Busy Does a Bossy Good

The boss is a very, very busy man. We know this because he takes hours out of his day to tell us all about it.

Tom,

WIDGET-424242 Premium has the wrong color listed.

It should be “Brown”

Please correct both color attributes and the name.

thanks,

Marquis

Note the subtle capitalization and punctuation errors. Like a boss!

I should be used to this by now. But still I sat there, stunned, staring at his email on my screen. He could have sent a shorter email. “Widget 424242 wrong color. Thanks.” But he didn’t.

I thought about hitting “reply” and asking a simple question: “Will there ever come a day when you don’t feel the need to include that extraneous sentence at the end?” I heard it can be beneficial to dream. Well, I have my dreams, too.

He went ahead and listed the correct color, even though I could have figured that out on my own. Maybe we can give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just trying to be helpful. He saved me the bother of having to look it up in the catalog.

But WTF is up with that next sentence? He just told me the color was “wrong.” I know what that means. It has to be fixed. If I really strained my brain cells enough I might even be able to extrapolate, like an Eistein smartypants, what should happen next. We have to correct the wrong information on the website! Am I right, am I right, Alex Trebec? What do I win?

Luckily, though, the boss is ever vigilant and at the ready to provide more than enough information. Apparently he thinks we’re so damn stupid we won’t know to wipe our own asses unless he’s there to point out the obvious. “And use toilet paper next time!” That might also explain why he walks into occupied bathrooms without the courtesy of knocking first. It’s because he’s so damn smarter than us idiots. No doubt that’s why he hired us.

“You going to send that letter in the mail? You’ll have to put on a postage stamp. The post office won’t deliver it without one.” Are you fucking shitting me? (And, for the record, I’m not making this up. This is an actual verbatim from the boss to me.)

I can’t help but wonder. What if the boss was in charge of other stuff? What would that look like?

Resignates Man

“Are you not intertwined?” shouted the gladiator. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “What we do at our job resignates in eternity.”

Yeah, it does feel that way sometimes. Luckily my craft doesn’t rely too heavily on proper grammar and fancy so-called “dictionary” words. Hey, just like my blog.

Yes, I’ve called this mandatory staff meeting to discuss resignation origami. (See inset picture.) In the spirit of multitasking this is also my ode to the Pope. To ensure professionalism at all times I hired Phil Mickelson as a consultant.

My research indicates that when it comes to quitting a job there are a few factors that are (allegedly) paramount:

• Give two weeks notice, more if possible
• Don’t burn your bridges
• Write a letter of resignation
• Be respectful
• Be diplomatic
• Be tactful
• Stay professional
• Offer to help

In other words, try to hold yourself to a standard higher than your employer ever showed you. Shit always flows downhill. Apparently, when quitting, the reverse is also true. Gold nuggets are supposed to defy gravity.

Ugh.

But, even so, behold the awesome power of a properly wielded Letter of Resignation (LoR) which automatically confers +7 intelligence and enhanced saving rolls.

More of my observations on this bit of arcane power will magically appear after the jump.

How Will You Quit?

Hello, 80-20, my old friend. You still remember me.

Unless you’re a freak, you’ve spent a good portion of time at your current job daydreaming about how you’ll quit.

Not if or when. But how.

It is inevitable. It is unavoidable. It is your destiny.

Quitting is the winning.
–Tom B. Taker

I’m not sure about the point of this exercise, though. It’s not like I’ve ever actually done any of the things I’ve imagined. And, trust me on this, I’ve imagined quite a bit.

Worse, when quittin’ time invariably does roll around, I get all squeamish and nervous and icky and mealymouthed. I don’t enjoy confrontation. Hey! I just had an idea. Is it possible to call in sick for quitting? Now that’s some truly officer thinking.

My wife has been thinking about quitting. (News flash.) This morning she floated the idea about bringing her drumming group in with her to provide accompaniment for the experience. I had to admit that was a fine idea. Beat those drums of war, baby.

Now the wheels in my head are turning. And I want to know:

What exciting plans have you made for how you’ll quit? Even if you’re like me and a big, big chicken, at least you can share here, in the safety of pure negativity, what you would do if you had the guts.

How would you do it? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.

Nom-Nom Nom-de-Plume Nomenclature

Last night I thought about the boss and clutched my chest in pain. Other people, I guess, refer to this phenomenon as “the drive home.” To each their own!

Easy come, easy go. Another day another feeling like needles are stabbing your ventricles. It’s all in a day’s work. And required per the Employee Handbook.

Recently someone in a comment here on this very blog revealed that they refer to a coworker as The Manwich. (I’m too lazy to go back and look for the author of this absolutely brilliant comment. Speak up and take a bow.)

Giving pet names to coworkers behind their backs is a time-honored technique for workers dealing with the mind-numbing bullshit of their dreary existence in the pursuit of the almighty dollar.

It’s a practice we honor here now on this Feckless Friday.

Today’s challenge is twofold: Tell us about pet names for cretins in your office and/or tell stories about times when someone stepped in it by using the term within earshot of the victim.

Good times!

The Company You Keep

“Company.”

The dictionary defines the word as “a commercial business.”

Wikipedia, as usual, is a bit more verbose:

“A company is an association or collection of individuals, people or “warm-bodies” or else contrived “legal persons” (or a mixture of both). Company members share a common purpose and unite in order to focus their various talents and organize their collectively available skills or resources to achieve specific, declared goals. Companies take various forms such as [a] … [b]usiness entity with an aim of gaining a profit.”

Source: Wikipedia – Company

“Warm bodies?” Holy shit. Wikipedia nails it. Again!

The business manager stormed into the meeting and saw a lot of empty chairs. “God damn it,” he bellowed. “Get me more warm bodies in here!”

Most of us born and bred in the United States wholly swallow – hook, line and sinker – the premise that a company is an organization comprised of human beings with the shared goal of making money, i.e., acquiring profit.

My purpose here today is debate the other point of view, that this concept we’ve so fully accepted is complete and utter horseshit.

Guru Comic: Labels

Candy Banned: Cow Orker Edition

I enjoy playing a good game. Especially stratergy games. Throw in the concept of work and you’ve got yourself a surefire hit.

You see a coworker take a piece of office candy. You grab an Uzi and gun them down. Sorry, that’s a note to file. That sort of infraction goes on your permanent record. Go back three spaces.
–Candy Banned playing card

Last week I came in to work one morning and cow orker was abuzz with excitement. She even said “good morning” in violation of office protocol forcing me to grunt in response on the way to my desk.

I know!

What could possibly have her so worked up I asked myself out of boredom in sheer desperation. I could care less and forgot the whole thing. But then, unbidden, she explained it to me anyway.

“We got another one!” she exuberated breathlessly. “Another one!”