Boss on my case today about finishing a project so I take time out to phone the mother who complained about my issuing Gatorade Gels to my team. Who better to vent my workplace frustration on?
‘Hi, it’s coach here, I understand you wanted to talk to me about last Saturday’s game,’ I say, using my serious business voice.
‘Yes,’ she replies, sounding slightly startled, ‘I just think, you know, it was wrong to give sugary drinks to the boys.’
‘Why exactly?’ I ask, still trying to remain reasonable.
‘Well, all dietary advice suggests these products ultimately do harm to the children,’ she says, sounding like a woman who watches too many of the morning shows on television.
‘Really? Did you see how the team played?’
‘Yes I did,’ she says, ‘but that had nothing to do with the drinks. Scientific evidence proves…’
I cut her off right there. ‘It didn’t, did it? The boys gave their most dynamic performance for weeks after they imbibed that stuff,’ I say, not sure where I pulled the word imbibed from.
‘I have a medical study I researched on the Internet,’ she practically shouts. ‘10 year old boys do not need Gatorade!’
I pause for a deep intake of breath, cast a quick glance around the office to check boss is nowhere within earshot then I let go.
‘Listen lady, it’s nutrition Nazis like you that are ruining this country for the rest of us. I don’t care what sort of free-range soy-bean organic granola you force-feed your poor son and make him pretend to like but on my team I will give the boys energy drinks if and when I see fit. If you don’t like it, I suggest you go and ask Whole Foods or some other hippie-dippie fake food emporium to set up a team for you and your kind!’
I hang up in perfect sync with the end of the sentence then I exhale. Relieved. Happy. No point in trying to reason with the unreasonable.
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