I used to work with a lady that always complained of having one ailment to the next. She was either sick or depressed most of the time. In fact, I cannot remember a time where she actually felt good. Now I did take in consideration that she was in her sixties, but to me it sounded as is she was a hypochondriac.

The definition of a hypochondriac is someone who thinks they always have problems with their health. In one form or another, this lady I knew was a hypochondriac. In my best efforts to help her realize this without being direct about the matter, I decided to set plans in action to get her to realize this. Her not showing up to work on a daily basis was increasing my work load.

After a thorough brainstorming session with my best imaginary friends and myself, I initiated the following plan of action: for each every time she complained about her health, then I would ridicule her in front of others with various gestures and comments.

In my first attempt to the old hag look like fool, the setting was perfect. It was a Friday and the morning meeting was just about to begin. Each Friday the department would get together with other departments to discuss open issues. The ragged old bat came to my desk complaining that her arthritis was making her porky legs ache. Then she began another rant of complaints starting with, "My feet are sore....The ears on my head are cold... When you get my age, your breasts will hurt too...My tongue is coated with some goo.." On and on it went before everyone showed up. I could hardly stand it. I wanted to confront her on a most sensitive subject that was her button for me to push. The geezer was pushing 3 bills, or in regular terms, she was over 300 pounds.

As everyone finally gathered, the meeting started as usual with the same problems for the same people who never do anything to fix them. The subject turned to working hard for the customer and doing what is necessary. The giant old pig said something about how she had been successful in her previous experiences. People all turned to her and this was my opportunity tp strike. I said, "Hey toad, you could work harder on losing those 250 extra L B's off that gigantic caboose you call a rear.? The I chuckled as everyone just stared. My boss' smile turned from a smile to expression of anger. Some people laughed and some people called me names as I walked to the boss's office. The old bat cried for about an hour until she saw as I was escorted by security from the building, then she cried again.

Needless to say, I didn't have to worry about the old lady complaining any more.

Learn more about this author, Tony Johnson.
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