i'm drowning. i am a puddle of motivationless sludge. i can barely type these words and i can't even muster up the energy to go downstairs to the lobby for free treats from building management. free treats! who would've thunk it possible?
things clearly have not gotten better since the weekend, and today, an encounter that was just icing on the cake. ooh cake, wonder if they've got some downstairs. maybe i will have the energy... but first things first. i work with idiots. big idiots. idiots that make twice what i do yet are probably about as smart as a jar of marshmallow fluff. one of whom i had to work with today.
R-TARD NUMERO SEIS
geeFresh - quite possibly the lamest human being on the planet. brain is about as dim as a child's nightlight lightbulb on its last filament. not enough wattage produced to light up the space just a centimeter away from the surface of the bulb. excels at kissing ass and playing poker, so he's got himself a very cushy spot reporting directly to little b. has two staff reporting to him (what?!), which is helpful because he needs assistance spelling things like the company name. it's unfortunate he can't get them to speak for him, as he's unable to correctly pronounce client names ("Where's the Mar-tih-loona report?" "You mean the Martinello report?" "Yes, that's what I said." "No, no it's not. And I don't even know how you can get to that pronunciation.")
so i typically don't have too much interaction with geeFresh, but today the planets all aligned to cause mayhem and destruction and i found myself caught between bacon and geeFresh. talk about worst nightmare, ever.
bacon: hey! i have a quick question, you have a second?
me: no.
bacon: ok great, i was working on this process chart with geeFresh -
me: oh joy, this ought to be good.
bacon: huh?
me: i said, oh joy, joy to the world... just singing christmas carols to myself.
bacon: oh that's so cute. you're so festive. i LOVE that about you. always so happy and cheerful.
me: mmm. do you need new glasses? not sure you know who's office you're in right now.
bacon: oh you're so silly. so funny, too! anyway, so this process chart is supposed to outline what happens when we get mail.
me: client-related mail?
bacon: no, just any regular mail.
me: so... you and geeFresh are both spending time outlining what marie does with the mail?
bacon: yes, exactly! i knew you were the right one to ask, you always grasp the concepts so readily.
me: is this a difficult concept to grasp? the delivery of mail? i think marie knows what she's doing.
bacon: well it really can be quite complicated.
me: oh really. please do explain.
bacon: well you know, first there's the pickup of the mail, then there's the sorting process, where a lot of errors can occur. and then there's the delivery of the mail itself - so many things can go wrong!
me: omg shoot me.
bacon: pardon?
me: oh, loot me, santa, yah send me some christmas loot...
bacon: oh you'll have to teach me that one! i would love to teach my kids a new christmas carol.
me: absolutely. i can't wait to write the lyrics. i mean teach them to you. after i write them...
bacon: so anyway, geeFresh and i are disagreeing on part of the process and i wanted to get your feedback on it.
me: ohhhhkayyyyy.what um exactly is there to disagree on? there are three steps and they're all pretty self-explanatory.
bacon: well here, at this point in the process flow, between the pickup of the mail and the sorting, geeFresh wants to insert a step.
me: what step could he possibly want to and be able to insert? she picks up the mail from the mailbox and then sorts it.
bacon: yes, that's exactly what i said. but he wants to insert a step called "Mail Movement" to illustrate the fact that the mail will be traveling in the elevator up to our floor.
after about five seconds, i realize i'm staring at her with my mouth open. i look at the chart she has in her hand and blink several times to be sure i haven't fallen asleep at my desk and am now dreaming this interaction.
me: so. the process chart will have the following steps: Mail Retrieval, Mail Movement, Mail Allotment, and Mail Distribution? and marie has to sign off on a sheet for each step, every day?
bacon: yes. isn't that insane?
me: this place is insane.
bacon: will you please come with me to explain that Mail Movement is not essential to the chart? i'm practically done with it and then he throws me this loop and it'll take me at least another day to rejigger the chart and add in a step. it's just not necessary.
me: i'll tell you what's not necessary...
bacon: please?
me: ok fine, not sure why you need me but whatever.
we walk to geeFresh's office, which is unfortunately right by little b's. i duck in as quickly as possible, and am hit in the face with a waft of... stinky... person... smell? it's like a combination of old shoes, dirty gym socks, stale bread and cumin. my instincts kick in and i immediately hold my breath. i'm looking for somewhere to sit, or lean, so i have support if i start blacking out from lack of oxygen, but all i see is a sea of paper, folders, and general office mess. i wrap my arms around myself, plant my feet solidly and hope for the best.
geeFresh: oh HEYYYY, ladies, how're you? busy today? mmhmm?
bacon: of course! we are both working hard on this process chart you needed.
geeFresh: process chart?
bacon: yes, on the mail?
geeFresh: male? like males and females?
bacon: oh hahahah, you're SO funny!
hey, that's my compliment! thought bacon only used it on me...
geeFresh: huh? ok so not male and female. so mail then. regular mail. ok yes, what are you working on?
bacon: you remember, the process chart we were talking about making? the steps marie has to do when checking the regular mail?
geeFresh: mary... mary... is she the receptionist? i don't recognize the name.
bacon: no, it's marie. and yes, she sits up front?
geeFresh: OH well yes of course i remember THAT process chart! so is it all done?
bacon: well almost. if you remember we were discussing it and...
at this point i am nearly out of breath and starting to see stars. i'm forced to breathe in little gasps through my mouth so i can't smell the nastiness of his office. unfortunately, that means the smell is in my mouth. wrapping itself around my tongue. am i going to be able to taste it? omg, is my breath going to taste and smell like dirty man office? ugh, ugh, ugh. i am about to bolt when bacon grabs my arm.
bacon: can you tell geeFresh what you said to me earlier? about Mail Movement not being a necessary step?
me: Mail Movement is not a necessary step.
bacon: see? she agrees.
geeFresh: well i don't. of course it's necessary. how is mary going to get the mail from downstairs up into the office? it must move. Mail Movement. i really like that.
bacon: her name is marie.
geeFresh: right, that's what i said.
bacon: no, you said - never mind. i just think it's a redundant step because obviously she has to bring the mail upstairs in order to sort and distribute it.
geeFresh: exactly. without Mail Movement, she will have nothing to sort or distribute. henceforth, the step is necessary.
bacon: but it's really not.
geeFresh: yes, it is. put it in. people will be confused otherwise.
bacon: ok FINE. but just so you know, this will delay the roll-out. i won't be able to finish this until tomorrow, at the earliest.
geeFresh: oh, of course. there's no real rush. i know that making the charts is a labor intensive process. it usually takes me a few days just to get the shapes on the page.
me: did you really just admit that out loud?
geeFresh: ha ha ha, not all of are as great with the computer, like you are!
me: and not all of us are getting paid peanuts, like i am!
geeFresh: did someone say peanuts? i think i have some here in my office - you ladies want a snack?
me: omg no. nasty. i'm leaving. are we done?
bacon: ah yes, thanks for trying anyway. you can go if you want, i am actually a little hungry. peanuts sound good.
me: ew. you're gross.
bacon: what?
me: toast, ah raise your glass for a christmas toast...
bacon: oh another new carol! wonderful! you MUST teach me those tomorrow.
me: yup okgottagobye.
with that, i took off back to my office and sat down. i seemed to have lost track of the last few hours. must have been the wallowing and the continued puzzling over how someone with fluff for brains can possibly be assigning tasks and handing out peanuts. hmm. peanuts. now i might be hungry enough to wander downstairs for a snack.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
(non) motivational speaking
today will be a better day. today will be a better day. today MUST be a better day than yesterday. yesterday sucked so badly that today HAS to be a better day. i am going to will it to happen.
my tornado of crap started on saturday night with a supremely (non) motivational speech by little b at our holiday party and ended with my fantasy football team losing in the first round of playoffs by 1.8 points. one. point. eight. thank you, mr. roethlisberger, for being LAME (literally) and NOT successfully throwing the ball to mike wallace just one or two more times. that's all i needed. maybe one of those many interceptions in the end zone you threw in wallace's direction could have been just a tad more accurate. maybe. just maybe. but no, instead you must have heard a portion of little b's (de) motivational speech on saturday. it probably demoralized you as much as it did the rest of us.
i learned a valuable lesson on saturday. it seems that our annual holiday party is where i learn a good portion of my life lessons. what did i learn last year? to NOT drink while my bosses are still within viewing distance. done. what did i learn this year? how NOT to make a year-end speech at a holiday party. i actually got two practical applications of the lesson, one from little b and one from someone I'll call the...
DUKE OF THE R-TARDS
rainMan - incredibly intelligent yet socially inept owner. second-in-line to little b, prefers to relinquish all control to subordinates in stark contrast to little b's micromanaging style. speaks at such a high level not even little b can decode what he says. abstract thinking interspersed with awkward and inappropriate jokes delivered during staff meetings. quite possibly the luckiest gentleman alive, as the majority of his day is spent frowning at this computer screen (laptop may or may not be turned on) yet collects a paycheck equivalent to six staff employees' salaries combined. mild mannered 99% of the time, though has had an episode in the past where he exploded at a staff person for negative feedback (though he later recanted and admitted that what she said was true).
so the night i'd been dreading had arrived. spazfest had made it into town from chicago, the restaurant was set and ready for our shindig and all the sticks were up the appropriate people's asses. i pick emma up and we swing by spazfest's hotel to pick him up. he chats all the way to the restaurant while emma and i try to avoid making eye contact. we manage to make it all the way to the valet before bursting out laughing.
me and emma: BAHH HAH AHHAHAH HAHAH
spazfest: ... right? that's totally what i was thinking, too. can you believe he said that? i mean really, who does he think he is? all high and mighty. pennywise and pound foolish! that's what happens when you live in the burbs. what are you girls laughing at? i know, right? ha ha ha... so anyway then i said...
me (to the valet): here are my keys, thanks so much.
valet: ah you're welcome, miss.
the valet ducks into my car as fast as he can, eyes wide as he wonders what in the world is wrong with the three of us. two are laughing like hyenas and one is talking to himself nonstop. we walk into the restaurant and are immediately accosted by marie.
marie: good lord, thank goodness you two made it. i am DYING in here. i had to come early because little b wanted me to set things up.
me: uh, what might there be to set up?
marie: um well he uh you know, since the company's gotten larger, he wanted some um games and interactive ah things to um get people talking.
me: what.
emma: why.
me: no.
emma: double no.
marie: it's really not that bad. believe me, he had some stupid shit in lined up and i nixed them all. i got him down to two ice breaker type activities.
me: ok, the words ice, breaker, and activities should never be used at an office holiday party.
emma: actually, ice is...
me: yes ok fine i realized that as i said it. ice is ok. breaker and activities... ok just how about the phrase ice breaker activities is not to be used?
emma: agreed. new rule accepted.
marie: right, you guys are weird. anyway, one is a quiz on the upper management and the other is a table game.
me: ah shiz. that's right - we've got to go get some seats before everyone else gets here.
marie: ohhh about that.
me: what.
emma: why.
marie: little b wanted assigned seating so there are name cards on the tables. and he has a master chart in his pocket so if he suspects that you moved the cards around, he WILL catch you.
me: asshat!
emma: lame!
me: we're at least all together right?
marie: uhm.
me: mother father! i need a drink.
emma: ditto. let's make our way over there. too bad you ruined it for us last year. no open bar this year.
me: yah we apparently need it more this year than i did last year. apologies, ladies. i'll get the first round.
we manage to get down two drinks before the rest of the crowd arrives and we are asked to sit down. happily buzzed, i find i don't even mind that i have been slotted to sit at a table with spazfest and rainMan. with spazfest chatting away and rainMan occassionally trying to interject with a "funny", i don't have to try and carry on a conversation with any of the other duds at the table. i can focus all my energy on 1) getting some food down so i can stay upright, and 2) avoiding beaverFace, who is still managing to send leering smirks in my direction while sitting next to his ice princess wife. gross.
the games by far exceed my expectations for lameness and dinner goes by relatively well. the food's decent and there's wine at the tables. i'm just starting to contemplate the logistics of managing a slight buzz during a regular workday (because these people really aren't that bad when you've been drinking!) when little b stands up and clears his throat. oh boy. here we go. "thank you" speech time. i wonder which owner has drawn the short straw this year and has to thank our families and significant others for allowing us to work long hours for the devil in exchange for measly pay. everyone quiets and an uncomfortable silence falls over the room.
little b: hi, well i just wanted to say a few words before dessert is served. rainMan and i are going to tag-team it this year. he's going to start with some words about this past year and the things we've accomplished and i will wrap it up with some exciting news about the upcoming year. rainMan?
at this point, everyone in the room swivels around so they can see my table, and we all lay eyes on rainMan, who was in the middle of taking the final bite of his dinner. seriously? i think we all stopped eating once little b stood up, but the one person who is going to need to speak is still eating? rainMan coughs a little, clears his throat and stands up while wiping his mouth with a napkin. by this time, he's turned bright red and as i look back at little b, i see that little b is attempting to kill him with laser beam eyes. i can practically see the smoke coming out of little b's ears and his red spiked tail whipping the air behind him. honestly, though, what did little b expect? rainMan is the one who messed up staff members' names while trying to thank them during one of these speeches a few years ago. why would you ask him to speak again? and without scripted cue cards?
rainMan: ahem. ah yes. thanks, little b. so ah, this um, past year. yes it's you know, been a good one. well, not good but not as bad as we might have thought, given the economic climate. anyhoo, our client services blahblahblahblah....
i zone out as he starts actually saying words about work. i keep an alert face, though, since everyone is looking at our table. thankfully, marie and emma are both at tables behind me and i don't have to worry about seeing them make faces at me. rainMan starts recapping all the work we'd done during the year. he stumbles a bunch of times, as to be expected, but luckily does not get so flustered that he blurts out an inappropriate comment. he does manage to throw in a semi-racist joke in an attempt to wake people up. it definitely works and i watch as spouses and significant others glance at their partners thinking "did he just say that?" while my fellow employees sheepishly return the look like "yup, that's who i work for."
the more he talks about the projects, the more i feel the mood in the room shift. it's a reminder of all the long hours we'd put in, and instead of feeling proud of our accomplishments, we feel depressed. all of that time, all those hours we'd spent at work, slaving away... and all for what? miserly bonuses and meager raises, if at all this year. however, we all witness the owners' pockets grow fatter as they upgrade their houses and their cars.
rainMan: so ahhh in conclusion, ah those were all the things we got done this year! our clients paid us for those projects, so that's great! oh well most of our clients paid, anyway. there was that one...
little b: AHEM well THANKS rainMan, that was a great recap of the year and all of the firm's accomplishments. i'll take it from here, you can sit down now.
rainMan looks around, realizes that he's still standing and mumbling about a non-paying client, and promptly sits down. as soon as his eyes see his meal still unfinished on his plate, he eagerly picks up his fork and starts eating, completely unaware that the rest of us are still watching him. i think i hear him mutter an "mmmm." i look back at little b and see that he's mad-dogging rainMan again and have to stifle a giggle.
little b: SO, now that we've recalled the great things we did this past year, i'd like to update you all on some happenings that will help make next year even better! some of you may already know this, but others do not yet. through our vast network of contacts and due to the positive reputation we have out there, we have landed a new client! 2012 promises to bring even more work to us, which translates directly into money in my pocket! i'm thrilled at the prospect of becoming even richer off of your sweat, blood and tears!!!
ok so he doesn't actually say that last part, but that's what i hear and i can tell that's what everyone else is hearing, too. well with exception to slickRick, who definitely hears "slickRick is the best employee ever! he will never be fired, regardless of the little amount of work he does!" but that's all he ever hears anyway.
little b lectures and promotes for over half an hour, and the depression that had set in as rainMan had talked grows and grows. little b says "we're going to strive for additional efficiencies across all departments" and we hear "we're not hiring more people, we're just expecting you each to do more work! yay!". then he says "make sure you spend lots of time with your families this holiday season, as you may not see them much next year! ha! ha! ha!" and we hear "i've got your souls now, suckers. you're never leaving hell!"
little b: so as rainMan stated a little earlier, in these rough economic times, it's important to be thankful that we have a viable business and that we employ you. hope you enjoyed your dinner, the bar will stop serving in ten minutes. enjoy the rest of your evening!
what? seriously, that's it? no thank you to us, no thank you to the families? WE are supposed to be thankful that we have jobs??!?! believe me, i am, but still. how about thanking us for all the hard work we did? this is hell. where's at least our fake little thank you? something, anything? a small bit of recognition that without us minions, he wouldn't have a giant ass house up in the hills and a fancy car? but nothing.
i stand up, determined to make the most of the bar before my ten minutes are up. it seems the rest of the company, upper management and ass-kissers excluded, has the same idea. emma and i find a spot on the stools and turn to watch the schmoozers make the rounds with little b and rainMan as we sip our cocktails.
emma: oh god, look at beaverFace, kissing little b's ass over there. i think i just heard him congratulate him on a great motivational speech.
me: barf. that is so disgusting. oh my god. did you just -
emma: - see little b rake his eyes all up and down mrs. beaverFace, the ice princess? yuck, that was beyond gross.
ah little b. he's the king of the r-tards for a reason. only he could be so stupid that he thinks his speech was motivational and would bolster people's loyalty and happy feelings about their jobs. ah well, the only good thing to come out of those r-tarded speeches was a night of drinking amongst friends (after the big wigs went home, of course). monday was par for the course... with just a slight addition of doom and gloom, though i couldn't be sure if that wasn't just extended hangover. speaking of which... it's time to work on the logistics of that perma-buzz idea... :)
my tornado of crap started on saturday night with a supremely (non) motivational speech by little b at our holiday party and ended with my fantasy football team losing in the first round of playoffs by 1.8 points. one. point. eight. thank you, mr. roethlisberger, for being LAME (literally) and NOT successfully throwing the ball to mike wallace just one or two more times. that's all i needed. maybe one of those many interceptions in the end zone you threw in wallace's direction could have been just a tad more accurate. maybe. just maybe. but no, instead you must have heard a portion of little b's (de) motivational speech on saturday. it probably demoralized you as much as it did the rest of us.
i learned a valuable lesson on saturday. it seems that our annual holiday party is where i learn a good portion of my life lessons. what did i learn last year? to NOT drink while my bosses are still within viewing distance. done. what did i learn this year? how NOT to make a year-end speech at a holiday party. i actually got two practical applications of the lesson, one from little b and one from someone I'll call the...
DUKE OF THE R-TARDS
rainMan - incredibly intelligent yet socially inept owner. second-in-line to little b, prefers to relinquish all control to subordinates in stark contrast to little b's micromanaging style. speaks at such a high level not even little b can decode what he says. abstract thinking interspersed with awkward and inappropriate jokes delivered during staff meetings. quite possibly the luckiest gentleman alive, as the majority of his day is spent frowning at this computer screen (laptop may or may not be turned on) yet collects a paycheck equivalent to six staff employees' salaries combined. mild mannered 99% of the time, though has had an episode in the past where he exploded at a staff person for negative feedback (though he later recanted and admitted that what she said was true).
so the night i'd been dreading had arrived. spazfest had made it into town from chicago, the restaurant was set and ready for our shindig and all the sticks were up the appropriate people's asses. i pick emma up and we swing by spazfest's hotel to pick him up. he chats all the way to the restaurant while emma and i try to avoid making eye contact. we manage to make it all the way to the valet before bursting out laughing.
me and emma: BAHH HAH AHHAHAH HAHAH
spazfest: ... right? that's totally what i was thinking, too. can you believe he said that? i mean really, who does he think he is? all high and mighty. pennywise and pound foolish! that's what happens when you live in the burbs. what are you girls laughing at? i know, right? ha ha ha... so anyway then i said...
me (to the valet): here are my keys, thanks so much.
valet: ah you're welcome, miss.
the valet ducks into my car as fast as he can, eyes wide as he wonders what in the world is wrong with the three of us. two are laughing like hyenas and one is talking to himself nonstop. we walk into the restaurant and are immediately accosted by marie.
marie: good lord, thank goodness you two made it. i am DYING in here. i had to come early because little b wanted me to set things up.
me: uh, what might there be to set up?
marie: um well he uh you know, since the company's gotten larger, he wanted some um games and interactive ah things to um get people talking.
me: what.
emma: why.
me: no.
emma: double no.
marie: it's really not that bad. believe me, he had some stupid shit in lined up and i nixed them all. i got him down to two ice breaker type activities.
me: ok, the words ice, breaker, and activities should never be used at an office holiday party.
emma: actually, ice is...
me: yes ok fine i realized that as i said it. ice is ok. breaker and activities... ok just how about the phrase ice breaker activities is not to be used?
emma: agreed. new rule accepted.
marie: right, you guys are weird. anyway, one is a quiz on the upper management and the other is a table game.
me: ah shiz. that's right - we've got to go get some seats before everyone else gets here.
marie: ohhh about that.
me: what.
emma: why.
marie: little b wanted assigned seating so there are name cards on the tables. and he has a master chart in his pocket so if he suspects that you moved the cards around, he WILL catch you.
me: asshat!
emma: lame!
me: we're at least all together right?
marie: uhm.
me: mother father! i need a drink.
emma: ditto. let's make our way over there. too bad you ruined it for us last year. no open bar this year.
me: yah we apparently need it more this year than i did last year. apologies, ladies. i'll get the first round.
we manage to get down two drinks before the rest of the crowd arrives and we are asked to sit down. happily buzzed, i find i don't even mind that i have been slotted to sit at a table with spazfest and rainMan. with spazfest chatting away and rainMan occassionally trying to interject with a "funny", i don't have to try and carry on a conversation with any of the other duds at the table. i can focus all my energy on 1) getting some food down so i can stay upright, and 2) avoiding beaverFace, who is still managing to send leering smirks in my direction while sitting next to his ice princess wife. gross.
the games by far exceed my expectations for lameness and dinner goes by relatively well. the food's decent and there's wine at the tables. i'm just starting to contemplate the logistics of managing a slight buzz during a regular workday (because these people really aren't that bad when you've been drinking!) when little b stands up and clears his throat. oh boy. here we go. "thank you" speech time. i wonder which owner has drawn the short straw this year and has to thank our families and significant others for allowing us to work long hours for the devil in exchange for measly pay. everyone quiets and an uncomfortable silence falls over the room.
little b: hi, well i just wanted to say a few words before dessert is served. rainMan and i are going to tag-team it this year. he's going to start with some words about this past year and the things we've accomplished and i will wrap it up with some exciting news about the upcoming year. rainMan?
at this point, everyone in the room swivels around so they can see my table, and we all lay eyes on rainMan, who was in the middle of taking the final bite of his dinner. seriously? i think we all stopped eating once little b stood up, but the one person who is going to need to speak is still eating? rainMan coughs a little, clears his throat and stands up while wiping his mouth with a napkin. by this time, he's turned bright red and as i look back at little b, i see that little b is attempting to kill him with laser beam eyes. i can practically see the smoke coming out of little b's ears and his red spiked tail whipping the air behind him. honestly, though, what did little b expect? rainMan is the one who messed up staff members' names while trying to thank them during one of these speeches a few years ago. why would you ask him to speak again? and without scripted cue cards?
rainMan: ahem. ah yes. thanks, little b. so ah, this um, past year. yes it's you know, been a good one. well, not good but not as bad as we might have thought, given the economic climate. anyhoo, our client services blahblahblahblah....
i zone out as he starts actually saying words about work. i keep an alert face, though, since everyone is looking at our table. thankfully, marie and emma are both at tables behind me and i don't have to worry about seeing them make faces at me. rainMan starts recapping all the work we'd done during the year. he stumbles a bunch of times, as to be expected, but luckily does not get so flustered that he blurts out an inappropriate comment. he does manage to throw in a semi-racist joke in an attempt to wake people up. it definitely works and i watch as spouses and significant others glance at their partners thinking "did he just say that?" while my fellow employees sheepishly return the look like "yup, that's who i work for."
the more he talks about the projects, the more i feel the mood in the room shift. it's a reminder of all the long hours we'd put in, and instead of feeling proud of our accomplishments, we feel depressed. all of that time, all those hours we'd spent at work, slaving away... and all for what? miserly bonuses and meager raises, if at all this year. however, we all witness the owners' pockets grow fatter as they upgrade their houses and their cars.
rainMan: so ahhh in conclusion, ah those were all the things we got done this year! our clients paid us for those projects, so that's great! oh well most of our clients paid, anyway. there was that one...
little b: AHEM well THANKS rainMan, that was a great recap of the year and all of the firm's accomplishments. i'll take it from here, you can sit down now.
rainMan looks around, realizes that he's still standing and mumbling about a non-paying client, and promptly sits down. as soon as his eyes see his meal still unfinished on his plate, he eagerly picks up his fork and starts eating, completely unaware that the rest of us are still watching him. i think i hear him mutter an "mmmm." i look back at little b and see that he's mad-dogging rainMan again and have to stifle a giggle.
little b: SO, now that we've recalled the great things we did this past year, i'd like to update you all on some happenings that will help make next year even better! some of you may already know this, but others do not yet. through our vast network of contacts and due to the positive reputation we have out there, we have landed a new client! 2012 promises to bring even more work to us, which translates directly into money in my pocket! i'm thrilled at the prospect of becoming even richer off of your sweat, blood and tears!!!
ok so he doesn't actually say that last part, but that's what i hear and i can tell that's what everyone else is hearing, too. well with exception to slickRick, who definitely hears "slickRick is the best employee ever! he will never be fired, regardless of the little amount of work he does!" but that's all he ever hears anyway.
little b lectures and promotes for over half an hour, and the depression that had set in as rainMan had talked grows and grows. little b says "we're going to strive for additional efficiencies across all departments" and we hear "we're not hiring more people, we're just expecting you each to do more work! yay!". then he says "make sure you spend lots of time with your families this holiday season, as you may not see them much next year! ha! ha! ha!" and we hear "i've got your souls now, suckers. you're never leaving hell!"
little b: so as rainMan stated a little earlier, in these rough economic times, it's important to be thankful that we have a viable business and that we employ you. hope you enjoyed your dinner, the bar will stop serving in ten minutes. enjoy the rest of your evening!
what? seriously, that's it? no thank you to us, no thank you to the families? WE are supposed to be thankful that we have jobs??!?! believe me, i am, but still. how about thanking us for all the hard work we did? this is hell. where's at least our fake little thank you? something, anything? a small bit of recognition that without us minions, he wouldn't have a giant ass house up in the hills and a fancy car? but nothing.
i stand up, determined to make the most of the bar before my ten minutes are up. it seems the rest of the company, upper management and ass-kissers excluded, has the same idea. emma and i find a spot on the stools and turn to watch the schmoozers make the rounds with little b and rainMan as we sip our cocktails.
emma: oh god, look at beaverFace, kissing little b's ass over there. i think i just heard him congratulate him on a great motivational speech.
me: barf. that is so disgusting. oh my god. did you just -
emma: - see little b rake his eyes all up and down mrs. beaverFace, the ice princess? yuck, that was beyond gross.
ah little b. he's the king of the r-tards for a reason. only he could be so stupid that he thinks his speech was motivational and would bolster people's loyalty and happy feelings about their jobs. ah well, the only good thing to come out of those r-tarded speeches was a night of drinking amongst friends (after the big wigs went home, of course). monday was par for the course... with just a slight addition of doom and gloom, though i couldn't be sure if that wasn't just extended hangover. speaking of which... it's time to work on the logistics of that perma-buzz idea... :)
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
time warp
i just lost what feels like a third of my life. why, you ask? well i spent the last two and a half hours stuck on the phone with...
R-TARD NUMERO CINCO
spazfest - accuses everyone else of making work out of nothing when he in fact does the EXACT SAME THING. spends all day on the phone with everyone talking shit about everyone else. it's a minor miracle he hasn't forgotten who he's talking to (yet) and started talking smack to someone about themselves. though in this office it's likely he could do that and hold a whole conversation, hang up and have the other person be like "wait a minute... was he talking about...? nah, he wouldn't say those things about me. though my name IS bacon... hmm..."
i was happily enjoying my afternoon latte and trying to find the right site to catch up on the day's entertainment news when i heard emma's phone ring.
[riiiing!]
emma: hello?
[five minutes of silence]
emma: oh really? that's -
[five more minutes of silence]
emma: you know, that's really funny and i'd love to hear more buti'vegottogowork on this project ASAP or else little b's gonna have my butt thanksbyeyup!
[click]
i heard emma sigh and then an instant message box popped up on my desktop.
ewashington: my GOD does spazfest EVER stop talking? wtf! i couldn't get him off the phone fast enough.
me: seriously! so glad i wasn't the one he called this time. oh shiza.
[riiing!]
ewashington: HAHAHAHA he's making the rounds again. i just heard ashley's phone ring but she's not there because she's across the street in her apartment napping. AGAIN. biatch.
me: i still cannot believe no one has caught on. it's those stupid boobs of hers. blind little b like nothing else. ew.
ewashington: right?!?!?
if i had known how long i would get trapped on the phone, i would have suppressed the sympathy i felt in that moment for spazfest. some people just need to feel important and need to know that they are THE source of news in the office. he just needed some validation that he was needed. sigh. stupid ashley and her napping boobs. i picked up the phone.
me: hello?
spazfest: heyyyyyyyyyyyyy there! oh it's SO good to hear your voice.
me: yah, you know, it's been like a day since we last talked.
spazfest: oh i KNOW right? i mean, like, practically forever.
me: right, not quite what i meant but ok.
spazfest: gurrrrrlllll are you so dreading the holiday party this weekend or what? i mean, it's so bad that you have to first of all, work with little b, but then to have to go to a party and rub elbows with him and his wife and pretend like you like them... i am totally dreading flying out there on friday and losing my ENTIRE weekend for this stupid party and having to go and pretend like i'm happy to be there. i mean, no offense or anything, but really, going to your office is like you know, flying to the country or something. there's absolutely nothing to do and like everyone's just SO small town, it's painful.
me: gee, thanks.
spazfest: oh SILLY, of course not you, but you know, everyone else but you. you like totally belong with us over here in chicago. you're so much cooler than everyone else. you know, that's why we get along so well. but anyway like i was saying to dottie the other day...
at that point i mentally exited the conversation because he mentioned dottie. dottie is... spazfest's... girlfriend? lady friend? or perhaps beard? it honestly doesn't matter much to me in any way, though if in case she is his beard, it makes me sad that he feels like he has to pretend he's something he's not. she's been around for a long time, knows his family well and even travels with them on vacations. he complains about her snooty behavior ("as she comes from ollllld money and has never really worked a day in her life") but never talks about going on a date with her. nor about any other facets of a normal relationship like progression towards marriage, kids, etc. not that i'm saying everyone has to move in that direction, but there's an odd staleness to their relationship. not to mention his insane need to gossip, and impeccable fashion sense. he's always well-groomed and highly critical of what everyone looks like when he comes out to visit our office. wonder what he would've thought of my stapled-crotch pants and missing heel. hmm...
spazfest:... right? i mean, i'm honestly just psyching myself up for the party and trying to find positive things to look forward to, to make it bearable. like seeing you. i'm so excited to see you. and can't wait to see who's going to get themselves in trouble this year by getting wayyyyyy too drunk and pissing off little b! it's going to be so great, though last year it was pretty epic.
me: right. thanks a lot for bringing that up. i'm still paying for it. little b makes snide comments everytime the holiday party comes up these days.
spazfest: OH no i um totally didn't mean YOU from last year. you were just being so cute and silly. nothing THAT bad you know? it was ummmm oh don't you remember ashley? she was like um all drunk and ah...
me: no. i don't remember ashley. i don't remember anything after say about 8:30pm. whatever. this place drives me to drink. aholes.
i rolled my eyes and took the last sip of my latte as spazfest tripped and stuttered himself into a different conversation in an attempt to recover from talking smack about me to, well, me. hahaha. it was actually pretty hilarious and i listened on and off for the next hour or so as he chatted on and on. at some point i think i fell asleep with my eyes open. the ping of an instant message woke me up.
ewashington: hey! you awake in there?
me: whoa, i am now. thanks.
ewashington: ha ha! had a feeling you needed a prod. how long has he been talking?
me: it's been... 34 minutes, 18 seconds since i last said something.
ewashington: omg! i can't believe he keeps going even if you aren't making any noises!
me: it really doesn't take much to keep him going.
ewashington: clearly! goodNESS! what's he talking about now?
me: not really sure, i stopped listening a while ago. i was amused as he tried to talk himself out of a hole for bringing up last year's holiday party.
ewashington: oh NO he di'int!
me: he absolutely did. it was pretty funny.
ewashington: was it funny because he talked about you knocking the trash can over or because he brought up all the shots you did with the boys?
me: ahem. it was neither of those incidents, thank you very much. i righted that trash can practically before it even hit the floor AND i out drank most of those boys, so really, i don't see what's so bad about either of those.
ewashington: HA HA HA!!!
i looked up just as emma popped into my office and reenacted my knocking over and resurrecting the trash can. i snorted and tried to turn my giggles into a throat clearing.
spazfest: oh geez, look at the time, i really should let you get back to work! sorry for chatting your ear off! i can't wait for the holiday party! you were so right about that...
me: huh? what did i say? i swear i didn't say more than "mmhmm".
spazfest: oh you're SO funny! so modest. you're the best! see you on saturday!
with that, he finally hung up and i carefully placed my handset back into the cradle. i couldn't quite straighten out my neck and my right ear throbbed as the blood rushed back to it and i thought about all the zits i was likely developing from having the phone pressed against my cheek all afternoon. eesh. i flexed my fingers and tried to bend them out of the claw-shaped mess they were in. as i did so, i noticed my computer clock said it was nearly time to go. YAY! thank you spazfest!!! just enough time to gather my stuff, shut down and sneak out the back. happy wednesday.
R-TARD NUMERO CINCO
spazfest - accuses everyone else of making work out of nothing when he in fact does the EXACT SAME THING. spends all day on the phone with everyone talking shit about everyone else. it's a minor miracle he hasn't forgotten who he's talking to (yet) and started talking smack to someone about themselves. though in this office it's likely he could do that and hold a whole conversation, hang up and have the other person be like "wait a minute... was he talking about...? nah, he wouldn't say those things about me. though my name IS bacon... hmm..."
i was happily enjoying my afternoon latte and trying to find the right site to catch up on the day's entertainment news when i heard emma's phone ring.
[riiiing!]
emma: hello?
[five minutes of silence]
emma: oh really? that's -
[five more minutes of silence]
emma: you know, that's really funny and i'd love to hear more buti'vegottogowork on this project ASAP or else little b's gonna have my butt thanksbyeyup!
[click]
i heard emma sigh and then an instant message box popped up on my desktop.
ewashington: my GOD does spazfest EVER stop talking? wtf! i couldn't get him off the phone fast enough.
me: seriously! so glad i wasn't the one he called this time. oh shiza.
[riiing!]
ewashington: HAHAHAHA he's making the rounds again. i just heard ashley's phone ring but she's not there because she's across the street in her apartment napping. AGAIN. biatch.
me: i still cannot believe no one has caught on. it's those stupid boobs of hers. blind little b like nothing else. ew.
ewashington: right?!?!?
if i had known how long i would get trapped on the phone, i would have suppressed the sympathy i felt in that moment for spazfest. some people just need to feel important and need to know that they are THE source of news in the office. he just needed some validation that he was needed. sigh. stupid ashley and her napping boobs. i picked up the phone.
me: hello?
spazfest: heyyyyyyyyyyyyy there! oh it's SO good to hear your voice.
me: yah, you know, it's been like a day since we last talked.
spazfest: oh i KNOW right? i mean, like, practically forever.
me: right, not quite what i meant but ok.
spazfest: gurrrrrlllll are you so dreading the holiday party this weekend or what? i mean, it's so bad that you have to first of all, work with little b, but then to have to go to a party and rub elbows with him and his wife and pretend like you like them... i am totally dreading flying out there on friday and losing my ENTIRE weekend for this stupid party and having to go and pretend like i'm happy to be there. i mean, no offense or anything, but really, going to your office is like you know, flying to the country or something. there's absolutely nothing to do and like everyone's just SO small town, it's painful.
me: gee, thanks.
spazfest: oh SILLY, of course not you, but you know, everyone else but you. you like totally belong with us over here in chicago. you're so much cooler than everyone else. you know, that's why we get along so well. but anyway like i was saying to dottie the other day...
at that point i mentally exited the conversation because he mentioned dottie. dottie is... spazfest's... girlfriend? lady friend? or perhaps beard? it honestly doesn't matter much to me in any way, though if in case she is his beard, it makes me sad that he feels like he has to pretend he's something he's not. she's been around for a long time, knows his family well and even travels with them on vacations. he complains about her snooty behavior ("as she comes from ollllld money and has never really worked a day in her life") but never talks about going on a date with her. nor about any other facets of a normal relationship like progression towards marriage, kids, etc. not that i'm saying everyone has to move in that direction, but there's an odd staleness to their relationship. not to mention his insane need to gossip, and impeccable fashion sense. he's always well-groomed and highly critical of what everyone looks like when he comes out to visit our office. wonder what he would've thought of my stapled-crotch pants and missing heel. hmm...
spazfest:... right? i mean, i'm honestly just psyching myself up for the party and trying to find positive things to look forward to, to make it bearable. like seeing you. i'm so excited to see you. and can't wait to see who's going to get themselves in trouble this year by getting wayyyyyy too drunk and pissing off little b! it's going to be so great, though last year it was pretty epic.
me: right. thanks a lot for bringing that up. i'm still paying for it. little b makes snide comments everytime the holiday party comes up these days.
spazfest: OH no i um totally didn't mean YOU from last year. you were just being so cute and silly. nothing THAT bad you know? it was ummmm oh don't you remember ashley? she was like um all drunk and ah...
me: no. i don't remember ashley. i don't remember anything after say about 8:30pm. whatever. this place drives me to drink. aholes.
i rolled my eyes and took the last sip of my latte as spazfest tripped and stuttered himself into a different conversation in an attempt to recover from talking smack about me to, well, me. hahaha. it was actually pretty hilarious and i listened on and off for the next hour or so as he chatted on and on. at some point i think i fell asleep with my eyes open. the ping of an instant message woke me up.
ewashington: hey! you awake in there?
me: whoa, i am now. thanks.
ewashington: ha ha! had a feeling you needed a prod. how long has he been talking?
me: it's been... 34 minutes, 18 seconds since i last said something.
ewashington: omg! i can't believe he keeps going even if you aren't making any noises!
me: it really doesn't take much to keep him going.
ewashington: clearly! goodNESS! what's he talking about now?
me: not really sure, i stopped listening a while ago. i was amused as he tried to talk himself out of a hole for bringing up last year's holiday party.
ewashington: oh NO he di'int!
me: he absolutely did. it was pretty funny.
ewashington: was it funny because he talked about you knocking the trash can over or because he brought up all the shots you did with the boys?
me: ahem. it was neither of those incidents, thank you very much. i righted that trash can practically before it even hit the floor AND i out drank most of those boys, so really, i don't see what's so bad about either of those.
ewashington: HA HA HA!!!
i looked up just as emma popped into my office and reenacted my knocking over and resurrecting the trash can. i snorted and tried to turn my giggles into a throat clearing.
spazfest: oh geez, look at the time, i really should let you get back to work! sorry for chatting your ear off! i can't wait for the holiday party! you were so right about that...
me: huh? what did i say? i swear i didn't say more than "mmhmm".
spazfest: oh you're SO funny! so modest. you're the best! see you on saturday!
with that, he finally hung up and i carefully placed my handset back into the cradle. i couldn't quite straighten out my neck and my right ear throbbed as the blood rushed back to it and i thought about all the zits i was likely developing from having the phone pressed against my cheek all afternoon. eesh. i flexed my fingers and tried to bend them out of the claw-shaped mess they were in. as i did so, i noticed my computer clock said it was nearly time to go. YAY! thank you spazfest!!! just enough time to gather my stuff, shut down and sneak out the back. happy wednesday.
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