(some) People drive me crazy

I had to attend a course this morning. It was just a little refresher thing that only lasted two hours and it made a nice break from the usual morning routine at work, but not everyone in attendance seemed to enjoy themselves as much as I did. It took place at a nice countryside location in purpose-built training rooms that are run by an external company, but even so… one woman in particular didn’t seem to be in the mood for it.
We had to register at a nice desk on the way in, and she launched straight into an onslaught about the lack of parking spaces and the fact that she was supposed to park her Mini on a grass verge. “They shouldn’t book me on a course if they can’t provide me a parking space,” she stated firmly to the kindly old lady behind the desk. Talk about a sense of entitlement. “I’ve already had to drive for 90 minutes just to get here,” she went on. What was she expecting them to have done? Schedule a course with county-wide participation close to her house just so it was convenient to her? I wanted to say “It’s a free course and it’s taking place in work time so you’re getting paid to be here, what the **** is your problem?“ but thankfully I’m too lazy to say stuff like that. The receptionist lady dealt with her very calmly and professionally, and in the end she had to admit defeat and go and move her car away from the space outside the front door that she’d dumped it in.
Then we got into the training room itself and she started moaning about the fact that she was expected to sit beside someone at a table instead of having her own dedicated desk, and that the FREE teas and coffees were in another room (which, by the way, was down a short corridor.) I guess she’d rather have a china cup and a solid silver teaspoon delivered into her hand by a bowing virgin, who would then stop to fan her while she got on with the coursework. I’m so glad I wasn’t sitting next to her as I think I would have lasted less than ten minutes before getting the urge to disconnect her vocal cords with a paperclip.
It was a two-hour course and she was still moaning about parking on the way out. 
I wouldn’t say she got to me, but I’m now going into the garage to bash the hell out of my drums, and I’ll be imagining her face on the skins every time I bring down a drumstick. 

RC 20-10-17