get my what?

I'm in a job where I have to make decisions on whether a complaint fails or succeeds, and if it's successful, what compensation is due. Sometimes the complainants are arrogant bullies who think if they shout long and loud enough, they'll get their own way. Ah ... that feeling of omnipotence in dismissing a complaint because of 'foul and abusive conduct'.

And if I'm signing off on a file where the complainant lives in Leeds, Liverpool or Newcastle, I always use my Manchester United pen. I know they won't know, but it makes my day.

At the poker table.

I'm the art judge for the County Fair every fall. Yes, I really am. And since I've been the art judge these past four years, let me tell you, paint by numbers nicely framed oil landscapes are RIGHT OUT and ballpoint pen on napkin renderings of Ozzy Osbourne get ribbons. Hee hee hee. I have the power and I abuse it completely.

I'm high on life.

I usually keep the ears as trophies.

Deciding the fate of my GI Joe dolls action figures.

I have a very small power. It's pathetic.

My power highs come from being on stage and just rocking the shit out of a scene. Or just gettng attention - I feel enormous when there's tons of energy in a room and everyone's just going nuts and having a good time, and I get to be a part of that.

I must admit I get something of a high when I give advice to a victim subject client and they hang on every word and write it all down as if it was from the mouth of some minor, yet all-knowing god. I like this expecially because, in general, people completely ignore me.