Being ...

... nice is hard, sometimes.

There was an angry person in this room just now, complaining, in dutch with a heavy german accent (she's from Germany, it wasn't an adopted accent to be angry in (that would have been weird) ), that her cart was taken from her, that we had it and that the deal was that she would get it back according to something, something, something of the shadow proclamation. Or something.

Now, because this was delivered in an incredibly angry german tone this annoyed me so completely to the bone and beyond.

If I was House ...

Well, if I was House I wouldn't work here, but ... if I was House I'd have placed someremarks concerning german efforts to acquire stuff that didn't belong to them and whether she would divulge the whereabouts of my grandfathers bicycle before going off on a mad tirade about weeled methods of transport.

It's probably a good thing that I'm not House. It would have been wrong and completely inappropriate. The woman wasn't even born until the ... late 50's early 60's, I guess. And even then ...

I wonder I got the urge to be so mean in this case.