Unfortunately for me, that meant that I was constantly being pulled back up to the front desk to train every new person that showed up, even though it was no longer a part of my job description.
Finally, I passed along the resume of a girl whom I had known in college. We weren't really friends--more acquaintances really and had simply lived in the same dorm at one point in time.
Needless to say, I trained her and determined that I would finally wash my hands of the whole reception situation. I was so happy that she would be the new go-to gal from here on out.
]]> Then one day, she called me up to the front desk to cover for her her. I walked up there--a little annoyed that I seemed to still be stuck at reception no matter what I did. She very quietly told me, "So, you're watching the phone lines for so-and-so," and I cheerfully said, "No problem!"As she was packing up her stuff, the executive who originally hired me for the position--the guy to whom I'd passed her resume and also someone I considered a friend--walked up to the desk and in a very business-like voice bid her adieu while handing her what essentially were her walking papers.
That's right, I was unwittingly forced to witness part of the process of her getting fired. It was so embarrassing having to awkwardly tell her goodbye and wish her well when all I wanted to do was scurry back to my desk.
]]>Loud and opinionated: speaks up about anything and is forceful with opinion.
Figure pointing: trying to discredit anyone at any opportunity.
Multi Focused: Meaning, seems to be focused every where they shouldn't be, and hardly where they should be.
Bossy: Has a way to verbalize in a manner that speaks down to people and over people.
Energy Obsorbing: What ever the issue, and there are many, this person has to speak about it intensely and command everyone's attention to it. Keeping others from focusing on there work and using the energy on what every the intense emergency is. example: a policy about toilet paper and while you are listening, a policy about policies for about two hours.
Mistaker/Cover upper: Because this person spends so much energy and time on just about everything, this person makes a lot of mistakes, then tries to cover it up by blaming others in office or where ever.
Credit taker: Takes credit for suggested way to do or handle something, right in front, or behind your back. Doesn't matter. Really doesn't think twice about it.
Tripper: Trips off at any thing that the brain cannot handle at the moment.
Trips off loudly, verbally and physically. A mere mention of anything to redirect this persons behavior, or to gently guide it in another direction is bound to trip this person off out of know where. Oh, who am I kidding, it could be just about anything...REALLY!
This is not the end of it, but...by the end of the day as this person smokes a joint at her desk and writes in more time then she has actually worked... I am left wondering if I could actually get away with sneaking something like ativan in her pepsi.
I left this job, could not in anyway see a possible way out. The owner is not unlike this as well. I wonder...?
Igoring never seems to help, but only makes it worse, and saying something to anyone else only seems like a loosing battle.
The deal is ....situations like this are really a "no win". When I first start to see behaviors in people like this... I see a really good case for medication and only wish I had the power to force it on them. LOL
(Posted by Anonymous)
]]>(Posted by Anonymous)
]]>One classic example is my department. One guy made an honest mistake. They made him live in fear that he would be fired for this very honest and easily fixed mistake. Luckily, they couldn't fire him for it, so he had nothing to worry about, but it's just the principle of the thing! Yet, we have this one fat piece of waste who misses work constantly (has not worked a full week since February of this year), dresses inappropriately, talks trash about the powers that be (who LOVE HER!), is damn near impossible to get in touch with when she is actually at work, spreads hateful rumors about other employees being gay, and is just an all around low life. But, you can't get the so called bosses to sniff in her direction.
The story continues ...
(Posted by Anonymous)
]]> They know good and damn well what she is up to and yet they refuse to even warn her! I have advised the good employees to document everything. If they make an honest mistake, if they're late a time or two, if their boss rides them unreasonably, etc. Then, if/when anything ever arises, they can point right back to that slob and her antics. It would never fly in court if they tried to fire somebody else for far less offenses while miss perfect is urinating all over the rules. I hope it ends up in court one day, because apparently the so called administration needs to learn that just because you "like somebody" does not mean you can put them on a platform above the rest of civilization. Why in the world do employers suck up to bad people? Why do they ride the good and kiss the bad? That is one thing I will never understand.]]>There is no limit to the odd characters who sit around me....I'm surrounded by the Office Schizo, a very paranoid, very agitated middle aged woman who believes that ABSOLUTELY every conversation & email is about destroying her. Symptoms include: sneaking glances at me across the aisle w/narrowed eyes, all the while popping blackheads.
Then there's Allergy Guy whom I think has Tourettes'. He clears his throat 1000+ times per day, but if it's only throat clearing, we're lucky. Other times, it's snorting of mucus back into his little pea brain.
& most delightful of all, there's Creepy Pakistani Pervert Guy. He is in the cube next to me & takes to standing up & looking around (presumably to try & look down my shirt). Otherwise, he slurps his tea very loudly & apparently has a Doritos addiction as i hear him rummaging around in his file cabinet every 2 minutes to dig around for chips. After the chomping subsides, he gets back up again & hovers over his desk, playing w/papers. He's already been accused of trying to kiss a developmentally delayed girl that works as a file clerk in the elevator. He's balding & in his 50s & has hair like Animal from the Muppets. & he writes creepy poetry which he has gotten someone to publish into a book & tries to sell to all of the managers.
arggh, I work in a ZOO!
(Posted by Burnt Out Grad)
]]>This kind of behavior seems to be a trend among middle aged power hungry career secretaries. I don't know what her problem is. I wouldn't be shocked if it were revealed she's got an addiction issue. Her erratic behavior thoroughly defines that of an addict.
(Posted by Anonymous)
]]> Oh, and I am worn out on this whole "we" business. Did "we" do this, did "we" send this out? We meaning me. I told the boss to get her into some management classes, cuz she clearly doesn't have a clue.Until I find another job (man, have I been looking) I'll have to put up with Brunhilda the Savage. It's innane that someone would be permitted to run among like a tyrant around an office. Maybe they're "involved"? Ick.
]]>The story continues after the jump.
(Posted by Anonymous)
]]> The top boss then walked into the main door of the office, tripped on the doormat and fell flat on his face. Instead of helping him up, the lawyers burst out laughing and told him how clumsy he was. After he got up on his own, he asked me did I see how the retards all laughed at him like they don't know who pays them. He said he should fire them all.The boss bored me and I thought he may be a psychopath. But my salary was on the high side. So I basically tolerated his presence and half listened when he talked about all those things that don't interest me, especially about that haircut he hated. He complained endlessly about the barber for about four months. The other lawyers told him he should get another haircut, telling him he was starting to look like Cousin It.
Then, one day I was sitting at my desk composing and typing up a legal document and the boss came to my doorway and looked at me. I glanced at him and kept on typing. He then started banging his head on the doorway, continuously. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye because I was trying to ignore him. I was thinking that I hope he can still sign paychecks. I have two little kids and a cat to take care of. He then went to his office and was shouting at someone on the phone. Oh no, there he is again, at my office door. He asks me to call his uncle (the two brothers are his cousins) and ask him for a loan of twenty thousand dollars. His (expletive deleted) uncle turned him down, he complained. As usual, I just looked at him and calmly told him that I didn't want to talk to his uncle. His face totally scrunched and he whined that his uncle was such a (expletive deleted) etc. and he must have the twenty grand or else he can't pay his employees. Oh, well that makes a difference. You call him again and give me the phone I tell him. Uncle is just as looney as the rest of them. He whines that his nephew is supposed to be a professional, but he's always broke and maybe he shouldn't be a lawyer. But, just this one more time, he will loan him the twenty grand, and the offer is open only for the next forty five minutes. The drive there, by the way, is about an hour. The boss grabbed his jacket and ran out the front door, yelling expletives about his uncle's miserliness. When he returned to the office, the boss brought plastic champagne glasses for everyone and insisted that we make a toast with ginger ale to the new twenty grand his uncle had loaned him. He didn't really need it, but he wanted to go on a vacation with the money he said.
At the job I had before that, I worked for a lawyer that was having an affair with the office manager, who was so unskilled, she was irritating. She also dressed as if she were a hooker, with everything hanging out. She didn't quite know what an office manager was and only did minor typing of envelope labels which were always crooked with lots of typos. We always had to fix her labels or retype them because she was too lazy to retype them herself and the work had to be mailed out. The lawyer's wife came to the office with bandaids on her face, telling me that she just had a facelift but had to come to the office to confront her husband's mistress. She gives me a meaningful look and snarls at me. The other office staff all tried to tell her that it wasn't me, it was the office manager that was her husband's mistress. She balked at that and said her husband wouldn't mess with a tramp like that. In her opinion, I was definitely her husband's type. ewwwww. She even followed me to the ladies room and claimed she was warning me. I couldn't decide whether I should just punch her or ignore her. So I told her that she was already told who it was. Go talk to the office manager. After her husband made her leave the office, the office manager came over to my desk and gushed that she couldn't thank me enough. The lawyer walked over to my desk and told me not to worry about it. I typed up my resignation letter, walked into his office, dropped it on his desk and told him not to worry about it, and told him that I was demanding a month's severance pay.
After the last two jobs and co-workers from hell, I decided to leave all employment and work for myself with my own business office.
]]>"There is the Salute to Bugs Bunny Concert with the Philharmonic." I then see that that concert was last week. "Oh, I'm sorry sir that concert has passed. It was last Saturday."
The man replied "So, it's not avaiable?"
"Not unless you have a time machine."
There was a long pause before finally- "What?"
"No, it's not available sir."
(Posted by Michael)
]]>(Posted by Anonymous)
]]> She got into some accidents on her many trips there, and a couple days later told me (didn't ask) that I would be driving her to the mechanic after work. My uncle had just passed away, and I had to leave right after work to go to the wake. I told her this, and her response was 'so leave work half an hour early'. I politley told her to get someone else to drive her. Needless to say I completely stopped talking to her after this. Now I only converse with over work matters, which is a complete nightmare because she has no idea what's she's doing and gets defensive every time someone asks a question. She used the excuse she didn't know what she doing because she was new for a year and a half. She arrives 30-45 minutes late every day and walks in talking on her cell phone, which usually goes on for another 30 minutes after she arrives. One of my favorite incidents was the day she arrived 3 hours later than everyone else (about 11am) and walked around and talked to people for an hour, then announced she was leaving at noon to take half a day. I have simply no idea why she hasn't been fired yet, the only thing I can think of is she's so stupid management feels sorry for her.]]>(Posted by Anonymous)
]]>The story continues after the jump.
]]> Once again, the rest of us would have been terminated. But, not her! Not miss perfect! Her leave balance is constantly void, while someone like me has tons and tons of time built up. Guess who they say something to about being off. Me! What do they say to her, who has zero time built up. Nothing! My grandmother just passed away, and the funeral was out of town, so I was gone for two, count em two days, and they made a remark about me "making the whole thing up". I have since informed my union rep and will probably feel the wrath of the so called powers that be for going to the union about the comment that was made, but they always seem to turn a blind eye to the crap she does. We supposedly have a dress code we are to always follow. For instance, we are to be there every day, clean shaven, teeth brushed, hair kept short and neat, shirts tucked in, clothes in near perfect condition, etc. But what does miss perfect wear? A football jersey, a visor, big gawky gold chains, jogging pants, and sometimes even a head band! When the so called powers that be are asked about it, they say " oh well, it's not hurting anything". Translation: She is a manic depressive and we are scared to death to try and discipline her for fear of a lawsuit! That's how she gets away with everything.Her depression. I have had the misfortune of losing not one but two grandparents in the last year, and she tells people, "oh he sure does lose a lot of family members". She has the nerve to say something about me taking time off (which I earned and have plenty of) for a funeral, but she lies and takes up to three months off at a time and goes on trips? Then, most recently, when I returned from being off for my grandmother's funeral, she saw me in the hall and started singing a rap song with this stupid smile on her face. I told her to get the you know what away from me and she laughed. Guess who the so called powers that be said something to? Me! Told me "oh, now, she was just messing with you!". You do not go up to someone who has been through what I have been through and quote lyrics to a rap song to them! How stupid and rude! But, that's her! The union is currently looking into her activities because of some other discrimination complaints that they have received. Like how this person or that person gets written up, but they do nothing to miss perfect. I'm hoping that this will force the manangement's hand to do something to her, but I'm not holding my breath.
(Posted by Annonymous)
]]>That was five years ago. In the time since I have learned a valuable lesson and I have realized my own foolishness. We are in this together, and we must remember that.
One day, I received the news that millions of Americans receive. My job had been moved to another country, and I was now unemployed. I was fifty-two years old. There had been rumors for several months, but it did not occur to me that I would be one of those on the receiving end.
I did not expect to have trouble finding another job. I was wrong. For months I followed every lead and made every contact. Several times I was among the finalists, but at the end I was not the choice. The stress and frustration put a terrible pressure on my marriage, and after four months my wife divorced me; I don't have any bitterness about that. We were both at fault. The list of debts was already large when I was fired; they continued to grow.
(Posted by Anonymous)
]]> Finally, after one more unsuccessful interview at an investment bank, I stopped on the way home to have the oil changed in my car. At that time, I still drove a Porsche; I suppose old habits die hard.I had gone to that mechanic's garage every week for twelve years, and they knew me as a corporate executive. That day as I was waiting for the car, I saw a sign on the wall saying "Wanted: Assistant Mechanic. Will Train." Within a few seconds I decided to apply for the job, and asked the head mechanic for an application.
He assumed I was joking and didn't even respond. It took a full hour of explaining everything that had happened to convince him that I not only wanted the job, but that I was desperate for work. He finally believed me, and told me the job was mine if I was willing to start immediately as he had other applicants.
He looked over my $1500 pinstriped suit, the silk tie, the starched white shirt, the cufflinks, the hundred dollar haircut, the mirror-shined Ferragamo wingtips and all the trappings of the successful executive I had been. He shook his head and found a pair of overalls, sneakers and sweat socks. His assistant, Tony, joined him. Tony whistled when he was told I was hired. Like the manager, he couldn't believe that I was now one of them, after so many years as the well-dressed executive who visited their shop.
This gave me a glimpse, in a much deeper and personal way, of the divide between the upper and the lower classes within the American economy.
Tony welcomed me into the blue-collar world with some humor.
"Fired, huh?" he snapped. "I bet you never thought it would happen to you! Still got the Porsche and the pinstripes! All dressed up and no place to go!"
He slapped me on the back, grabbed my carefully tied necktie, pulled the matching pocket square out of my suit and gave me a sarcastic bow. "Well, SIR, I will do my best to turn Mister Pinstriped SUIT and TIE into a grease monkey!" With that he "accidentally" ran his dirty work boot over my gleaming shoes. "Sorry, SIR! Looks like you just had 'em shined! But you won't be wearin' those classy kicks for much longer so you don't have to worry!"
Within a few minutes I had taken off my business clothes for the last time and stepped into overalls and work boots. That was the beginning of my life as a mechanic, or "grease monkey" as Tony called me.
I understood what was happening with Tony. To him, I was a member of the elite who had fallen far from the top of the ladder, and he wanted to take out his frustration and anger at someone who he now could tell what to do. For me, it was the end of my life as an executive. I was now one of them, and had to dress and look like the workman I was becoming, and Tony knew that. Clothes were no longer just clothes. They were symbols, and powerful symbols, of my own transformation from a world of status and privilege to a smaller world of labor.
I was that day as I stood in the changing room of the garage that I realized how powerful those symbols are. I pulled off my Brooks Brothers black dress socks, correct for the office, but not for the garage, and stuffed them in my now discarded (and superfluous) Italian shoes. What use were polished leather shoes for a mechanic? I unfastened my monogrammed cufflinks, stripped off my hand-tailored business suit and hung it up with my starched shirt and my necktie, and then pulled on overalls. No mechanic wears cufflinks. No "grease monkey" wears a pinstriped suit. They were symbols of a world that globalization took away.
Did I ever think it would happen to me? Never. I was immune and invincible. But I wasn't. If it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone. Five years later I am now a blue collar man and no one would ever think I had been anything else. My hands are calloused and covered with oil. I sold the Porsche and traded my yuppie haircut for a ponytail. I even grew a beard. Tony is my boss, and those fancy, high-class Italian shoes are just a memory.
]]>(Posted by Jag)
]]>