Too Good For That

I don't like the maintenance guy at work. The man has the intellectual capacity of a naked mole rat. He stalks around the building, looking for ice machines to defrost, or something like that. I think he has too much time on his hands. Another part of his job is to arrive ON TIME so he can drive one of the early morning shuttles. He never does. One of the bellmen always has to drive his shuttle for him because he's the high and mighty MAINTENANCE MAN! He can't be bothered with such trivialities as DOING HIS JOB! He has Powerball tickets to buy and toothless children to raise and a redneck wife to go home to and the latest episode of "Deal or No Deal" to watch. Things like his job responsibilities are far too prosaic for this man. "What's that? You want me to climb into that lowly van and drive these wealthy CEO's from one place to another? Pishtah! I'll have none of that. I'm Maintenance Man-man-man-man-man-man (I do all my own echoes)!" Personally, I'd like to punch him in the ear. A couple days ago, I was holding the door open for a guest, which is, big surprise, PART OF MY JOB. That's when Maintenance Man decides he's in charge of the way we do things up here in the land of the Eloi. He'd just come up from his Morlock dungeon to tell us about how awesome he is at turning wrenches... or something like that... anyway, he slammed the front door shut right in front of an old woman. I don't think that's what we're supposed to do. He came about *this* close to getting kicked in the neck. I wasn't happy that day. Stupid maintenance man...