My Best Enemy

I'm getting pretty excited about the upcoming squash season. We got the team photo taken last week -- I think we all look pretty pumped.

As I was gearing up to start writing some of my beloved weekly motivational emails to the team, I realized that maybe I hadn't been bringing my A game to the blog so far. Sure, I've been dashing off some clever thoughts here and there, giving the world a much-desired window into my soul, but when I compare the quality of the stuff here to my deep, content-rich squash emails, I'm forced to admit I'm shortchanging my readership. For that reason, today I'll be treating you to a bit of my patented long form. Get yourself a cup of Starbucks premium Joya del Dia Blend coffee (wouldn't touch the stuff myself - my body is a temple and all that), settle in, and prepare to be enlightened by clicking the link below for the extended post.

Anyone who reads this blog has noticed that I seriously can't stand my colleague Bruce (and I use "colleague" loosely here, because it implies that we are at some comparable level in the office, which frankly is a bit insulting). The guy is so incompetent that he injures himself to the point of needing stitches just trying to get into the building in the morning. He rents a car to drive the two blocks from the office to our staff meetings at Ship Street. Plus he looks like Waldo. That seriously weirds me out. Not only do I have to see him at work, but I have to see his insufferably perky, bespectacled face on my kids' bookshelf, too. Or at least I did until I used those creepy books for kindling.

The weird thing is that no one realizes that I loathe him. Never mind that I'm completely obvious about it - I am constantly insulting him, publicly humiliating him, and viciously mocking him - but everyone seems to think it's a big joke. Last week I dozed off during this endless presentation that he was giving at a staff meeting, and at the end I loudly announced that I had done so, thinking it would make him realize how UNBEARABLY BORING HE IS, but everyone just laughed delightedly -- no one more than Bruce. At Heather's baby shower we were all guessing the name of the baby, and assuming that Bruce would suggest his own damn name, I wrote "Cory -- NOT BRUCE!!" (I mean, can you imagine a more cruel thing you could do to a baby?) Of course, it turns out that that bastard had also picked "Cory" as his suggested name, and -- surprise surprise -- everyone at the party thought it was just the funniest little rivalry. How can I make them see the depth of my hatred of this guy???

Sure, I know that I could just rise above it, knowing that I am more successful, more highly respected, and better looking, but as David Merrick, the prolific American theatrical producer, said, "It is not enough for me to win. My enemies must lose." I have adopted this as my own personal philosophy. Sure, it's nice that I got a promotion recently, and I have the office immediately adjacent to the vice president (well, except for Debra-Lee, but she hardly counts), and I am almost certainly the frontrunner for the 2007 Whelan Trophy -- clearly I am a "winner" by any definition. But I can't be happy while Bruce bounces his merry way through every day, oblivious to the fact that I taste my most recent meal every time I catch sight of him. (Ali ibn-Abi-Talib (whoever the heck that was) said, "He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare, and he who has one enemy will meet him everywhere." I'm not sure what that first part means or that it applies to me -- I'm pretty popular, but a thousand friends seems like a bit of a high estimate -- but I totally know what he means about seeing your one enemy everywhere.) Anyway, I will only be happy when I've beaten Bruce so soundly that he's high-tailing it out of here in his rental car, fearing for his life.

So I've formed a plan based on advice from three famous guys whose quotes I found on the internet. First, Saul Bellow once said, "There is only one way to defeat the enemy, and that is to write as well as one can." Clearly this is part of why I started this blog. I figure I can defeat Bruce best by wielding my magnificently persuasive command of the language (English). As my readership inevitably grows, so will the public's knowledge of the truth about Bruce, until like a rising tide it sweeps him from his seat of illusory yet ill-begotten power. Sort of like Thomas Paine, or whoever it was that wrote that pamphlet that started the American Revolution. This blog will start the Bruce Revolution.

Speaking of war, I will base the second part of my battle strategy on Ulysses S. Grant, who said, "The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on." I'm not sure what form this strategy will take for me in the long run, but so far I'm implementing it by passing gas in Bruce's office whenever he's not in there, and then booking it out of there. I'm going to his territory, striking hard, and moving on. And we all saw how things worked out for General Grant. He eventually became president, I'm pretty sure. Move over Ruth.

Finally, I look to Napolean Bonaparte, who advised, "Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake." Perhaps this is where I've been going wrong all these years. By trying to point out all of Bruce's stupid characteristics to people, I'm distracting from the characteristics themselves. Now when Bruce is entering his fourth hour pontificating on the finer points of the direct mail schedule, instead of calling him on it and having everyone else in the meeting mistake my vitriol for wit (thereby lightening the mood with laughter), I'll just let him make his own bed. The truth will dawn on those present soon enough.

With the wisdom of these great men behind me, I have no doubt that I will ultimately prevail in the Battle of Bruce.