"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

I love this quote, but have to admit that I didn't re-unite with it until having seen the previews for that My Super Ex-Girlfriend bomb that's coming out soon. These previews couldn't have surfaced at a more perfect time considering what happened here in the last week (and by "in the last week," I could mean "yesterday." Then again, I could also mean "in the last year and I just now heard about it but I don't want to date myself or reveal my publication." Of course, it could have also just happened this morning).

In a previous post, I mentioned that I didn't intend to perpetuate the "Jews are Cheap" stereotype (although my anecdote somehow worked to do just that). In this post, I intend to explore the stereotype's exact inverse, for there is indeed a level at which this perhaps mythical desire to save/make money comes to a staggering halt. That level? Refer to the quote above. When a woman is scorned, there is no telling what she will do.

The publisher's wife, who I might add has no publishing experience or skills other than those which she has sexually transmitted from her husband*, likes to believe she has a starring role in this show. She comes into the office everyday to play boss; point some fingers, bark some orders and make some decisions (that are most often vetoed by her higher ups... me).

Of all of the decisions she has made, the one that struck hardest and resonated most amongst the employees, is the one that remained firm. I won't build it up anymore: The publisher's wife got in a heated argument about ??? with the highest grossing account executive ever and fired her. Let me rephrase. This girl pulled in $XXX,XXX ad dollars every other month. I can't think of a single thing that would ever piss me off enough to pull that stunt. I think all men, Jewish or not, would agree with me when I say I would have swallowed my pride and reconciled with the account executive before giving up an employee who brought in those numbers to the company. I'd probably even throw in a back and foot massage to seal the deal. In fact, if I were the publisher I'd go as far as to say that I'd leave my wife before I'd quit the account exec. It's true. Who wants a woman like that around anyhow? Hey, I'm just being real here...

The scariest part of it all is that the publisher/owner of the magazine did not retract his wife's demand. It must be hard walking around with that thing stuck between your legs.

*However, I guess if one can transmit a religion via copulation, it's safe to assume that one can also transmit a career via the same method. By this logic, maybe the publisher's wife is a trained mag publisher.