Pompous people chap my ass.
Other than me, of course, but then I've had more than half a century learning to put up with myself.
Yesterday I had the annoyance of being at a big meeting. It was a meeting that had a lot of kids at it, a bunch of teachers, and a smattering of parents.
It wasn't the meeting that was so annoying, it was that there obviously had been very little planning done; and also obvious was that the teachers didn't have any idea of what their preparation for the meeting should have been, or what their task was at the meeting. The kids, rather than appreciate the presentation, were just excited not to be in classrooms and were quite ill-behaved. No one had explained to them what was expected of them, either.
I happen to know some of the people involved in the "planning" process ... and they haven't got a bloody clue what they're doing beyond showing up and hoping for the best. They pounce upon shiny ideas they hear at a district meeting and say, "Let's do that! It's so wholesome!" But they don't worry about learning how to do that.
Why not? Because, of course, they already KNOW that if it's wholesome and sounds like a good idea, of course they possess the skill set to pull it off. The woman in charge is a volunteer for the organization of this stuff. She's done that probably for the past 15 - 18 years. She gets by; no great shakes but she makes it from one year to the next.
After so many years, she's the Emperor, and she's buck nekkid -- and in the nature of long-term volunteers in positions of power, she's grown such barnacles that you'd need a jack hammer or an act of God to get her out of that position. Let's add to that the fact that in an organization that utilizes volunteers, there is no one in a position to tell The Grand and Mighty Volunteer Leader to get her shit together or move aside.
As I watched the meeting unfold, I saw the Volunteer Emperor waddle around, her lips pressed tightly together in displeasure. She was being Seen Doing Good Stuff -- that's all that mattered to her. Several times she said to the kids in a smarmy voice "Now we all know how we're supposed to be behaving!"
Hell, no, they didn't. The little ones didn't understand the need for quiet and the older ones know she's a dork.
Oh well. All I can do is avoid such meetings in the future, or live with the chapped ass. No one is ever going to question the Volunteer Emperor's competence: after all, she's a real school teacher in her day job.
I'll bet she'd tell you that, too, if you said, "Lady, what the hell were you thinking?"