Effing the Ineffable #5: On having some effing restraint
An occasional poetry newsletter
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A few weeks ago I almost sent a completely mortifying email. It was a busy day. I was hot and dehydrated in the car with my partner, Kartik.
I opened an email chain and was hit smack-dab in the face with a snide, sarcastic message. In this particular situation, I had been working hard to get this person what they needed quickly. I thought: after all that, they send me this? The gall!
I furiously drafted my response. Kartik didn’t try to intervene; he knew there was no point.
The email was perfect. I cleverly employed my brand of sarcasm to give them some of their own medicine; I pointed out my valiant efforts amidst their B.S.; and—best of all—I was going to CC the two other people working on this project. Because when you’re right, you’re right, you know?
Reader, when I tell you my index finger was mere centimeters from the return key…
And then I had a thought: What if the tone was incidental instead of pointed? That would be annoying, sure — but maybe not worth having…
