OK, so not all tall women are liars. And not all men are pigs. But there is one tall woman in particular who seems like a big fat liar.
On Monday I was invited to sit in on a meeting with Child Services by a friend who has been dealing with them steadily for the last few months over a nuisance complaint that someone with clear malicious intent made. Two is better than one, especially since there was going to be two workers in a room where she would be all by herself.
Having limited experience with this branch of government services, I agreed as I thought it could benefit both her and my quest for knowledge. Two birds, one stone. Sounds simple.
That was my first mistake.
The second mistake was thinking that I wouldn't be considered a terrible excuse for a human being simply because I was sitting on the wrong side of the desk.
Apparently, in the eyes of Child Services, you are guilty until proven less guilty - which rarely happens. The jury is made up of the worker you are assigned. Hopefully he or she doesn't have hemorrhoids the day you have your meeting.
The meeting had been arranged because intake needed to pass the case on to an actual worker. The woman who had been in charge of "intake" actually cracked a few smiles. The new worker seemed more interested in the mating habits of carpenter ants than in the conversation that was going on around her. She flipped through her planner, played with her cell phone, and when she wasn't asking for clarification regarding things that had been discussed in great detail for ten minutes, she basically stared off into space.
An hour and fifteen minutes later the file was transferred and the meeting adjourned. Apparently she did not want to be involved for years and years; she wanted to finish her investigation and be on her merry way. Hopefully before the ants gave birth.
We trudged back down the hallway from whence we came, the new worker leading the way, probably hoping we wouldn't get lost in the jungle of bureaucratic red tape and BS. Or the construction. I am not a short woman. I stand five feet, nine inches in the morning. This woman towered over me. I disliked having to look up at her when we spoke and walked, so I kept five feet between us to make sure our eyes could meet with only a slight tilt of my head.
That lasted all of two sentences. I don't make eye contact with people who look down on me - not just literally - and treat me poorly simply because I am not an employee in their office.
When we left, my friend asked me what I thought.
I like to believe that I have some ability to read people and that I have at least mediocre observation skills. It was my firm belief that the new worker was on a witch hunt, and with all her casually spewed out comments about "protection issues" that she refused to elaborate on, anyone with two brain cells to rub together could figure that out.
"Tall women are liars," I said, cheerfully.