There. It’s said. Written. In black and white for the world, nee universe, to hear. See. Know.
An open letter to the subject. Name’s spelling tweaked. Not to protect the not-so-innocent. It’s me in my integrity.
You had two days to post an invitation to members of the Meetup group. YOUR members and YOUR group may I remind you.
Two days is plenty of time to post an event. It takes 2 or 3 minutes to post it.
Not only that, I make it simple as pie. I write the event description. Spell it out along with the location, time and date to a T. There is no confusion. I could not make this ANY EASIER FOR YOU. For any Meetup facilitator.
I kindly request that you post it.
You don’t. Perhaps you didn’t get the message?
So I send a kind reminder.
So I send it again.
I eventually get:
“I will get this posted as soon as possible.” One day before the deadline for posting!
No. You didn’t. And you won’t.
Karrie, it takes all of TWO MINUTES — if THAT — to post an event. An event that again MAY I REMIND YOU is for the enjoyment of the people in YOUR GROUP.
Or did you lose sight of that?
Are you so fucking busy 24 hours a day that you haven’t a minute to spare for posting an event. In YOUR group. For YOUR members?!
Thanks to YOUR attitude, your inaction, your bitchiness, time runs out. There’s not enough time to post the party event that I’ve created. For the community of women. That you allegedly serve.
Because of you, I have 4 people coming. When there should’ve and would’ve been twice that. HAD YOU DONE THE RIGHT THING.
Listen, Karrie. I know you’re young. I know you’re busy — or seem to be. Every moment is obviously occupied round the clock. 24/7. I know you’re not the embodiment of sage woman, wise old soul.
But can’t you fucking see that this isn’t about YOU. Or about me. It’s about YOUR group and YOUR members being invited to a fun party event.
And BECAUSE of you, they won’t be. They can’t be. Because you couldn’t spare two precious minutes in your round-the-clock busy schedule, apparently, to DO THE RIGHT THING.
I hate you right now. I hate you not as a whole person. But because interactions past and to the present strongly tell me: you are a bitch. A selfish young self-centered bitch. Who has NO clue about what hosting a party in the home means.
Who has no clue about what it means to do things for others. Selflessly. Altruistically. Out of kindness. Out of goodness. Out of the sheer joy of doing for others.
I’m sorry you have to be in my life at all. Unfortunately, because you do facilitate a large group of women, I’m stuck with you. I’m stuck with your being INCONSIDERATE and selfish and BITCHY.
There are sisters. And there are bitches. You are in the latter. I am not and never have been but boy oh boy can I spot ’em 20 miles away. Bitches have a distinctive smell. Did you know that? Of course not. You’re one of ’em. I bet in high school, you were hated by a lotta girls. Girls of the Sisterhood.
So Karrie, if I could, I’d write you out of my life. Unfortunately, as I said, because you “facilitate” a large group of women in the Meetup universe, I’m stuck with you and your Bitchhood.
Can’t escape it. Can’t avoid it. Can’t live with it. P.S. I pity your new husband. I’d like to buy him a night of drinks in 5 years to see just how happy he is being your husband.
Neither here nor there.
BECAUSE of you, I’m in a predicament. YOU put me in this predicament. Your INACTION. Your excuse that you’re sooooo busy that you can’t afford 2 minutes to go online to post a party event is BULLSHIT. BULLSHIT. BULLSHIT. BULLSHIT.
You’ve been exposed.
And you blew it. You failed the VERY gals that you’re allegedly there to serve.
You’re not special, Karrie. Bitches are a dime a dozen. You being one is not news. Problem is, I pay the price. I and every woman of the Sisterhood.
Ugh. I hate women like you. I’m truly sorry that there are so MANY of you.
Last but not least, I’m gonna play Donald Trump for a moment, Karrie. To you and your “role” in “bringing women together”: