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The
"Bag Lady"
Effect

   
     Sad to say, but these days far too many bosses get off on trying to turn you into their own private verbal punching bag. You know the kind. For the lamest of reasons, they just love to call you on the carpet and blast away at you with a barrage of words that spit out of their mouths like hot rounds from an Uzi.

        And what joy they seem to get from it. Though their faces turn beet red, with veins that you never knew a human being were supposed to have bulging from their necks and foreheads, they seem to be having the time of their lives... at your expense.

Oooooh, how they want to get to you. Hoping to see you shrink to the size of DNA. They live for it. They feed on it, like blood to a vampire.

 So...if you really want to OFF THE BOSS, don’t let it ‘em get to you.

       “Yeah... but it hurts!”, you cry. And rightfully so. It can hurt. And it gets you mad. Damn mad! Especially if others are listening. There is a very primal human instinct to defend oneself when being attacked.

         But what if you could create your own private bullet proof vest to bounce their useless words away from you, like gunfire ricocheting off Superman’s big red “S”?

         Sounds good, right? But you know you’ll never be able to get one of those vests. Heck, you can hardly afford kneepads for weekend rollerblading.

         The good news is -- it doesn’t cost you a cent. It’s created in your mind. And very simply. All you have to do is ask yourself one simple question: “Am I really being attacked?”

         Good question. Glad you asked. Because now you’re about to create that vest of steel with, what we like to call:

 THE BAG LADY EFFECT  

From now on, whenever your boss begins to spew their verbal vomit, simply let your mind take you away from there. Not to some paradise, but to your friendly downtown...

    ...................Skid Row!

         Yup, that’s right. Bear with us for a moment here.   Come on, we've all seen it. Going to traffic court or taking the wrong turn to the stadium; or bringing in the VCR to a “convenient carry-in factory repair shop” (why do “convenient carry-in factory repair shops” always have to be located in what could pass for downtown Beirut?). But sometime in our life, we’ve found ourselves driving through skid row. And on every street corner, in every skid row in America, there is the proverbial Bag Lady.          

She’s usually dressed in preparation for some cataclysmic ice-age, even thought it’s 110 degrees outside, what teeth she has the color of dried egg yolk, as she moves slowly down the middle of the street, steadfastly navigating her beat-up shopping cart like Captain Ahab at the helm in search of the “big one.”    

That in mind, think about what she says. Those gaseous, high-voltage insults she throws at you as you pass by on foot or in your car.

Horrid words that damn your life, question your heritage, and defile your appearance. Even on a good hair day.

Now think for a moment, because we’ve all been there. When you hear these viscous insults, are you upset by them? Do they linger with you for the rest of the day, like the smell of something you stepped in on the way to work, but can’t seem to locate on your shoe?

         OF COURSE NOT!  
       

And why?  Because WHAT THE HELL DO WE CARE WHAT SOME NUTSO BAG LADY HAS TO SAY IN THE FIRST PLACE!?! We know her opinion doesn’t count. We know she hasn’t given serious consideration to your life, your career, or your appearance before calling you “an ugly, dung-eating pile of maggot snot!”

She’s a bag lady!
         

Ah-ha, now you’re catching on. Do you respect her? No? Do you really care what she has to say about you? No way! Do you really think that she has some great perceptive, perspicacious, intuitive understanding of how you fit into the great cosmic scheme of the universe? NO! You know the poor soul is the way she is because budget cuts have kept her out of the loony bin and off her much needed medication.       

Okay, then. See where we’re going? Replace your boss’ yammering blitzkrieg with that of some imaginary Bag Lady. What do you have?...

Do you really think that the boss has some great perceptive, perspicacious, intuitive understanding of how you fit into the great cosmic scheme of the universe! NO WAY!

You know that the poor soul is the way they are because budget cuts have kept them out of the loony bin and off their much needed medication...




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