I have worked with one half of The Two-Headed Idiot (see Who’s Who) for a couple of years now. She still gets me confused with another colleague of ours, Patricia Fat-Arse (again, see Who’s Who). As you can gather by her less-than-flattering nickname, being compared to Patricia Fat-Arse is not a compliment. And it’s not just my ego that says it’s a complete farce to get us confused: for a start she is a good 3 dress sizes larger than me and has red hair. The only similarity – and I must stress the ONLY – between us is that we both wear glasses at work. The Two-Headed Idiot gets us muddled up so often that she once complimented me on how cute my son was. What son? Exactly.
Anyway. I’ve grown to expect this kind of dim-witted behaviour from her so I live with it, take it in my stride and restrict my snacking whenever she gets us confused.
However, the other day, I was accosted by a member of staff wanting to know why I was interfering in her work. When I pleaded innocent (not easy for a girl with Roman Catholic guilt), she said that I had been named by another one of the Gaggle (see Who’s Who) personally. The hen in question was a colleague I respect as having something other than cotton wool in between her ears. When I confronted her, she realised that she had actually meant Patricia Fat-Arse, not Yours Truly.
So. There we have it. It’s spreading. Maybe I should start wearing my contact lenses to work in future.