tatty bojangles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
apocalypsos) wrote2004-02-10 10:27 pm
apocalypsos) wrote2004-02-10 10:27 pm
(no subject)
Okay, so maybe firing Captain Asshat was a bad idea.
And I don't say that because he isn't one of the most annoying, obnoxious morons in existence, because good juggling Jesus in a tutu and tiara, is he ever. But the only place I can give him credit is in the work department. Stupid son of a bitch knew his shit. (Granted, only his shit, but still.)
Here's the thing ... the guy did three things in that office, one of which he wasn't supposed to be doing, really. He was just supposed to handle the front counter and scan out packages. What he wasn't supposed to do was double-check pick-ups ... drivers are supposed to do that. So you'd figure that with only two jobs to split up and the pick-up calls being done by the people who are supposed to do them, everything would be handled, right? Ehh, wrong answer, but you get this lifetime supply of turtle wax and a llama. Happy trails to you.
The drivers didn't do their goddamn job, so no pick-ups were called.
The woman who's supposed to be splitting the data entry with me after a certain time decided instead to do the front counter AND scanning in packages. This meant that I had to do the data entry stuff by myself. I might have carpal tunnel, but damned if I know because I can't feel my goddamn arms below the elbows.
Look, dumbasses, it's one thing to have the job go awry. It's another thing to sit around afterwards, blame everyone else, and then say, "If we'd done this, it would have worked like a charm."
And you can't place the blame on the chick who fired Captain Asshat because of "personal issues." You guys don't want to know what I nearly said when one of the supervisors told someone that. Jesus, you thought he was a schmuck, too! Don't play this innocent "No, he was really a nice guy!" act just you can't freaking delegate. Jesus. *seethes*
In happier news, there's a mouse in my office. He's very very little, so I named him Stuart. And I figure I can name him what I damn well please, since he is incredibly cute, stays in my part of the office, and ate one of my Cheetos. He's obviously my mouse.
And I don't say that because he isn't one of the most annoying, obnoxious morons in existence, because good juggling Jesus in a tutu and tiara, is he ever. But the only place I can give him credit is in the work department. Stupid son of a bitch knew his shit. (Granted, only his shit, but still.)
Here's the thing ... the guy did three things in that office, one of which he wasn't supposed to be doing, really. He was just supposed to handle the front counter and scan out packages. What he wasn't supposed to do was double-check pick-ups ... drivers are supposed to do that. So you'd figure that with only two jobs to split up and the pick-up calls being done by the people who are supposed to do them, everything would be handled, right? Ehh, wrong answer, but you get this lifetime supply of turtle wax and a llama. Happy trails to you.
The drivers didn't do their goddamn job, so no pick-ups were called.
The woman who's supposed to be splitting the data entry with me after a certain time decided instead to do the front counter AND scanning in packages. This meant that I had to do the data entry stuff by myself. I might have carpal tunnel, but damned if I know because I can't feel my goddamn arms below the elbows.
Look, dumbasses, it's one thing to have the job go awry. It's another thing to sit around afterwards, blame everyone else, and then say, "If we'd done this, it would have worked like a charm."
And you can't place the blame on the chick who fired Captain Asshat because of "personal issues." You guys don't want to know what I nearly said when one of the supervisors told someone that. Jesus, you thought he was a schmuck, too! Don't play this innocent "No, he was really a nice guy!" act just you can't freaking delegate. Jesus. *seethes*
In happier news, there's a mouse in my office. He's very very little, so I named him Stuart. And I figure I can name him what I damn well please, since he is incredibly cute, stays in my part of the office, and ate one of my Cheetos. He's obviously my mouse.