Tool Selection

Could be someone I know, someone I don't know, fictional characters, dead people. I don't care, I'm an equal opportunity complainer when it comes to complete dickwads.

Wherever there's a Complete Tool, I'll follow closely behind with my anonymous bitching. 'Cuz that'll show 'em.

About Me

My Photo
You will be blinded by my awesomeness.
View my complete profile

Anti-Tool Committee

Other Awesome Blogs

Blog Widget by LinkWithin
Monday, November 7, 2011

One Down, One To Go

This year has brought so many changes for me in my professional life.  I'm now working for a new company (same office, different company), under a different set of standards and the rules seem to change daily.  It's been stressful in a way that I never expected.

One change that I will not be whining about:

MisManager is leaving.

She's leaving!  She's leaving!  She's leaving, leaving, leaving!!

I have suffered this woman's insanity for 5 years now and, while I will miss her ability to... absent from the office most of the time, I will not miss:

  • Sudden outbursts of paranoia.  Like chalking up being the last person in the office to know about something to the fact that "everyone is intentionally excluding you" and "everyone's afraid to talk to you" and not to the fact that "you are always fucking gone."  Good call.
  • Getting in trouble for the stupidest shit ever. Even though I now have bragging rights as the only person on the planet who's been in trouble for calling a maintenance guy to ask him when he's going to install our office equipment.  (Completely overlooking the fact that managing the operation of the office is exclusively my job.) There's always that.
  • Being asked to document conversations that I was not a party to.  I don't.  Then I get in trouble for not providing the necessary documentation when the time comes.  I'd rather get in trouble for that than  phonying up documentation.
  • Having work delegated to me so that I can delegate it to my people.  Without any instruction whatsoever.  Or deadlines.  Then, as you probably guessed, I get in trouble for not making sure my employee had it done on time or correctly.  But, you're right, I should know to ask 40,000 questions. I'm that eager to take on her shit work.
  • Having important joint meetings bumped for, seriously, anything else she decides to do.  Our annual performance reviews, for instance, were 2 months overdue this year.  One of the things they were getting bumped for involved her 17-year old daughter's school schedule.  As in, MisManager had to go meet with the counselors to decide what classes her daughter needed to attend.  Let her be a grown up and figure that shit out on her own lady.
  • Having important joint meetings interrupted by personal phone calls.  Your college-aged son doesn't really need to check in with Mommy every day does he?   Oh yes, he does.  My bad.
  • Having important joint meetings interrupted by complete strangers.  No, she was really one of those assholes who can neither find their "Do Not Disturb" button nor ignore a ringing telephone.  One phrase that will haunt me to my grave, "I don't know who this is.  I'd better pick up."  Seriously?  It could be a wrong number for all you know.
  • Having my staff interrogated like accomplices to murder whenever I'm out of the office for the day.  I come back to half the staff talking like they did their best not to give away the secret location to my cubbyhole full of dead baby hearts.  I've never met a human being more afraid to just ask their own employee to explain the work they do.  She (in all seriousness and less gruesomeness) makes my employees feel like I've done something wrong and they've ignorantly helped me do it.  I have to work very hard to keep assuring them that I'm someone that they can trust.
  • "Irregardless."  The word is regardless.  Irregardless is, if you're counting it as a word even, a double negative.  You're actually negating what you say when you use your pet colloquialism.  For the love of God, please stop.
  • Having to find a way to make sure that everyone gets included in everything no matter how impossible that task actually is.  Sometimes, someone needs to stay behind or get left out.  Or they just don't give 2 shits about participating.
It's not to say that the new manager won't have their own set of infuriating quirks that I'll have to learn to live with.  I'm not that naive.  I'm just so glad that this is finally over.

Now if I can get lucky enough to be rid of my other problem...
Thursday, September 22, 2011

Interpreter Needed. Inquire Within.

This banner has been posted up on a local furniture store for the last 3 months.  I am now convinced that there is something I'm missing.  If anyone can explain this to me, I would be super appreciative:

Seriously?  Anyone have a clue?
Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Stop! Just Kidding...Go Right In

Yesterday, I introduced you all to the newest member of my team.  This guy:

If ever there was a person who belonged on display in this blog, it's him.

We don't demand much from our security personnel.  Hang out and wait for shit to happen, really.  It's a pretty sweet gig.  Walk around the building a bit.  Chase away panhandlers.  It's a breeze.

Even if they don't do any of that, our absolute core expectation: keep unauthorized persons from entering our secured area.  As basic as that might seem, and as hard as it is to believe, this was the source of today's confusion.

Before coming to work for us, Dory (I have settled on was the most demeaning, so naturally, the winner) used to work for a hospital.  I find it hard to believe that someone would have to tell him not to let junkies into the pharmacy.

Scratch that, I would have found it hard to believe before today.

We have one secured area.  90% of our clients never need to go in there.  When they do, we need to make sure that we've properly cleared a business purpose for their access and an employee needs to account for them the whole time they're in there.

Except today.  When 90% of our clients got into that area by simply pointing toward it and saying, "I need to go in there."  Literally verbatim.

Psssst! Dory....

There's a lock on that door for a reason, asshead!

If we wanted the entire city of Phoenix traipsing through this area, we would just prop the door open and put out a Welcome mat.  You are doing the exact opposite of what any person with an I.Q. above 'drooling and diaper change' level would assume.  In fact, if you were missing one more brain cell, you would be a Hilton sister.



I missed this.
Monday, September 19, 2011

Checking Back In

I have been checked out for too long.  I got tired of writing in circles about the frustrating times at work.  I thought that, if I stopped giving myself a passive outlet for diffusing the majority of my anger, that I would learn how to focus it fully on what really matters: setting things right around the office.

Not so much.

What's that old maxim?  You can lead a horse's ass to water....or something.  For all my trouble, I am now an expert with reasoning with brick walls.

For best results, create your own audience of Papaya Guys.
So, I'm back with some of your old favorite characters: MisManager, EmployeeVonMunchausen and Jailbait.  Over the last few months, there have been some new additions to the happy family.  Meet:

I seriously love this girl to death.  MisManager is hellbent on hating her to death.  She goes to school on days and during times when MisManager wants her there the most -- no matter when her classes are.

He's a good dude.  He probably deserves a better nickname, but I dubbed him this in his first post appearance.  He's studying to be a doctor right now.  Even after he gets his M.D., though, he will be Dr. CoffeeBitch.  That's how this works.

An unpolished girl with a heart of gold.  10k gold.  I think I like her best, because she's the only person I've ever met that can out-awkward me in a conversation.  That is extremely hard to do.

Goldfish (or 50-First-Days ... I haven't decided yet)
Our new security guy.  He has been on the job for over a week now.  I have explained his job to him every single day.  At least twice.  He still doesn't get it.  I wonder if he just likes the attention or if he's related to Dory.

Maybe his new nickname will just be Dory.  I'll choose by the next time I have to write about him.

Which should be tomorrow.
Monday, August 1, 2011

Note To Self

When a Cracked writer issues this warning...

Warning: Don't watch this video. Just fucking don't.

Read more: 6 Progressive Parenting Fads You Won't Believe Are Legal | attention.

I made it through 1:11 of this video before I couldn't look anymore.

Oh, and I highly recommend you don't watch this...unless you're a boxer and you need to psych yourself out to pound the shit out of someone.  Then it's okay.

Monday, May 30, 2011

You Dirty Bastard

This whole last week, I've been pissed off because Blogger wasn't working.  I kept getting an error message after logging in.  I was so sure Blogger had another meltdown.  Then, as time passed and there was no change, I thought, "I wonder what would happen if I tried to log in using a different browser..."

Fuck you Chrome.  If you don't like my blogs, you could at least have the decency to say something to my face.  We coulda talked this out like adults.  Hell, I'm stumped for material half the time anyway, so you and me, we coulda been partners.

But no.

You made your choice to fuck me over instead.  I don't even think I have anything to do with this.  I think you're just jealous because Blogger is getting more attention than you.  You know what?  You're both mediocre Google products.  That's a stronger common tie than Breakfast at Tiffany's.  You need to get over this and start talking to each other again.
Saturday, May 21, 2011


There are times when it's hard to remember why Mr. Awesomeness and I work well as a couple.  Then situations like today occur and I know, without a doubt, the tie that binds us together:

We're both immature assholes.

This works when times are good or bad.  If we get pissed at one another, there is no depth to which we won't sink in order to dig at one another (which is why we typically choose to ignore one another completely -- it's just better that way).  When we're happy with one another, we gang up on other people.  Kind of like a Mega Dickhead Power Ranger.

I ordered some pizza today and the dude dropping them off was way....awkward.  Our Asshole Super Powers hone right in on that and it turns into the makings of our inside joke of the week

Awkward Pizza Dude: Well, looks like I've got a real feast for you!
Awesomeness: Yep, it's a lot of pizza. (Did he just call me fat?)
Awkward Pizza Dude: Are you going to be okay or do you need some help with that?
Awesomeness: Uh....I'm fine, thanks.
Awkward Pizza Dude: Well then, have a great weekend!
Awesomeness: You too!
**door closes**
Awesomeness: Oh no!  Help me hunky pizza man!!  This pizza is sooo heavy and I need a man to help me carry it.
Mr. Awesomeness: Sounds like someone's seen too many bad pornos.  He might have some delivery guy fantasies.
Awesomeness: *bow-chicka-wow-wow* You know, the pizza's not the only thing that's hot around here.
Mr. Awesomeness: Why don't I help you over to the counter there, miss.
Awesomeness: I wish there was a way I could thank you pizza guy....

This will go on for an entire week.

Thank you pizza delivery dude.  I wish I could repay you.  Oh wait, I did.  I gave you the tip.
Monday, May 9, 2011

Of Course You Like Him....

Round two of the interviews occurred today.  There were two candidates for this round.  I was very optimistic about one of the applicants, because he seemed fantastic on paper.

Notice my careful wording.

We interviewed Mr. Amazing first.  He was very charming.  He smiled in all the right places and gave us great answers to all of our questions.  He absolutely lived up to my expectations.

So why won't I consider hiring him?

He made it clear in the interview that he would be completely dissatisfied if he's not promoted in 6 months to 1 year.  He even reinforced that sentiment by explaining that he left the last job he had in our field because they wouldn't promote him.

We had to wonder why.  He claimed that the department he wanted to work for was very exclusive, but that didn't quite ring true, in the way that we felt he was leaving something out.  The industry I work in is immensely diverse.  It's not unusual to have a few different career paths in mind.  Personally, I have 2 different roads I want to eventually go down.  I know that I'll get my opportunity to do that in the next 2-3 years.

There was no way that Mr. Amazing was going to be fast-tracked into a position he wasn't ready for.  I'm a tough manager to work for in that respect.  Heck, Jailbait worked for me for over 2 years before he got his first promotion.  This kid would be quitting before I could get his business cards ordered.

He was a peach compared to the second interview though.  I was lukewarm about interviewing this one, since he had an application that my 5-year old could have written.  You know, attention to detail is very important.  I tend to put my word snobbery aside when it comes to interviews, because not everyone is a writer.  Most of our communication is verbal; so long as you've got great verbal skills, you'll be fine.  Besides, they're working for someone who practically pees herself over the opportunity to proofread.

No, really.  Sometimes that's my proudest moment all day.

"Tell me about a time when you've had a positive influence on the actions of another person."
I guess in church.
"Did you join a youth group, or a counselling group....?"
Yeah, I work with kids.
"Well, that's terrific!  Is there one particular moment that you're proud of?"
There's one kid that we hang out with a couple times a week.  Ball games and movies and stuff.
Every question turned into at least 5 with this guy.  So verbal skills were a big time strike out.

MisManager and I both agreed on the first guy.  We couldn't give him what he was looking for.  I didn't mind passing on him, though, since he also explained he had his apps in at a couple of different companies.  He will be a good addition to their staff.

I expected that the "after talk" on the second candidate would be a short one.  The kid can't talk, he can't write.  Don't get me wrong, we were treated to a 30-minute air drum solo.  (Yeah, the guy's actually a drummer.  We asked.)  He kept an even rhythm the whole time.  I will give him that.

MisManager: Oh, I thought he was really sweet. I liked him a lot.  
Awesomeness: I have to disagree.  He could barely talk to us.  I think he would be out of his league in a job that required hours of face-to-face contact with clients.
MisManager: Well, he's a lot like Jailbait and you like him!
Awesomeness: I agree that he has the same "quiet" sensibilities, but Jailbait is very well-thought out and actually speaks very eloquently.  This candidate is just not skilled enough in communication to succeed in this position.  The difference between him and Jailbait is that Jailbait has the amazing ability to make the most of the few words he uses; and as for this guy, listening to him talk is painful.  I felt bad for asking him questions. (No really.  It sounds like every word is pulled from his throat with a pair of rusty pliers.)
MisManager: I disagree with you.  He reminds me so much of my son.  He's quiet too, but he's sweet and he has the best sense of humor...

So there it is.  You're getting pissy because I won't hire the kid that reminds you of your son.  Well, lady, if your son interviewed that poorly too, I wouldn't hire him either.  If the guy we had in front of us was a girl, you wouldn't even be considering it.

She's making me sleep on a decision I've already made.
Thursday, April 28, 2011

Well, Thanks For Showing Up....I Guess

I just wanted to mark yesterday as a special occasion: the day MisManager trusted me to do my job.

She's on vacation this week and we had a couple of interview candidates sent our way.  I had initially told the recruiter that we would wait on the interviews until MisManager got back into the office, because NO WAY should I be left alone my job.  Without hand holding.  No friggin' way.  I mean, I've only been interviewing since 1996, so what the fuck would I know?

End immature snarkfest.

When MisManager called, because she checks her email on vacation, she said, "You go right ahead and get these out of the way.  I'll call them back in if you like them."  What?  She must be having an awesome vacation.

The first interview I did yesterday was possibly one of the worst I've ever had.  This would include the girl I interviewed who mumbled under her breath and ended every sentence with, "Yeah...."  What was the deal with her?

This one:

1.  Snapped at me for calling her cell phone when I called for the interview.  Her point was that she was busy speaking with a client at work.  MY problem was that she answered her fucking cell phone while trying to handle a client.  Strike one.

2.  When I asked her to tell me about herself and to describe her experience a bit, she launched right into a story about how she used to work for my company about 15 years ago (not on her resume, by the way; I know resume experts may recommend only recent experience, but if you're a former employee, you may want to mention that).  Then she went into an awkward bout of the "Hey, Do You Know So-And-So? Game."  I didn't.  She wasted about 5 minutes of my time doing this.  Even after I tried to move the conversation along by telling her the 2 people I did know from her old department.  Strike two.

3.  She has listed on her resume one job for the last 7 years, but also 8 other jobs with timelines that coincide with this job.  Each of the subsequent jobs were appeared to last approximately 4-9 months.  When I asked if the dates were correct, she said yes.  So is this first job your primary job and the others have been second jobs?  Yes.  Are you planning on making this job a secondary priority?  "Well, if you can't offer me full time job after about a month or so, then I'm going to have to look for something else."  Wow.  Lady, I'm not even going to offer you this part time job, so no worries there.  Strike three.

4.  I know that a lot of people get frustrated by interview questions, but I ask about 10 of them anyway.  I need to see you think on your feet.  I also want to know that you're open enough to talk about yourself.  My interview style is really easy, so I try to make it seem more like a conversation than an interrogation, but this lady was just not giving up the goods no matter what I did.
Describe a time when you were able to be a positive influence on the life of another person.  Her response: "Well it's very important to be positive at work.  Always.  I mean, when you come in to work and you're negative, it rubs off on everyone else."  Well, okay, do you remember a time when your positive attitude helped someone in your life?  *Blank stare.*  Obviously the answer is no.
I'd like to hear about what frustrates you about your current position or a recent job you've had. What is it and what have you done to alleviate your frustration?  Her response: "Oh, I don't know how to answer that.  Nothing about my current job frustrates me and I don't remember being frustrated in any of my more recent positions."  You ma'am, are a fucking liar.  Capital L.  Little i, little a, little r, period.  
 What is the worst communication problem you've ever experienced?  "Not communicating."  Uh hunh....can you tell me about that time?  What happened and what did you do in that situation?  "Well, there isn't a specific time, but when your team isn't communicating, then things just don't work out.  You know what I mean?"
I just wanted to hit my head against the table by this point.

Interview tip:  Get your shit straight before the interview so you can answer the fucking questions.  I understand that there are some people who are not great at thinking on their feet.  I'm one of those people.  I want to give good answers, so I like time to think, but that's not completely reasonable in an interview.   I actually have to practice what my answers to these types of questions would be.  That way, I am already in the right frame of mind going in, so it's less likely I'll get tripped up.

I'm not exactly sure if that was her problem.  She did tell me at one point that she really couldn't think of a way to answer the question, "What was the best decision you've made in the last 6 months and why?"  I understood, because I couldn't tell you on the spot either, so I gave her a pass on the question and went back to it later.  Her response, "I reorganized my files."  That was just the answer I needed to put my entire head on fire.  Thanks.

Today I called the recruiter to give her feedback and couldn't immediately find the right words.  I started out, "Well, she comes across as kind of...."  The word I was looking for was unresponsive, but I couldn't quite spit it out.  Recruiter guesses, "Unpolished, unprofessional, unfriendly, not ready at all to work with people?"

OH MY FUCKING GOD!!  If she felt that way, then why the hell did she send this woman over to waste my time?  She is supposed to be the "quality control."  That's why she does a pre-screening interview, so we only (theoretically) get candidates that fit what we're looking for.

Then, as if I wasn't already set to throttle her, she says, "Well, keep in mind that, if you don't make your selection and get a new hire processed by May 13th, you're not going to get a chance again until after June 1st.

Then stop sending me bullshit applicants, asshole.
    Tuesday, April 26, 2011

    Please Help Us All

    Yesterday, about a block away from my children's preschool, I saw a police officer had pulled over a woman who had to be about 90 years old.  I felt bad for the officer, I'm sure it sucks to pull over sweet-looking grannies that look like your Nana.  I was also sure that the lady was probably safer in the parking lot than behind the wheel of a car, so I was glad that she was off the road as we passed by with our small children.

    I know, stereotyping old drivers will earn me an express ticket to Hell.  Whatever.

    In case anyone feels bad for the old lady in the story, just check this out, because this is the same old lady stopped at a red light after we dropped the kids off:

    I'm sure that the police officer could have made a day of following her around town.
    Thursday, April 21, 2011

    The Week From Hell

    As adults, we make an array of choices every day.  One of these is whether or not we'll show up to work.  As a manager, I have a strong opinion about this: if you choose not to show up for a day, I'm not going to give you crap; however, if you miss too many days, I'll eventually work toward firing your ass.  I think that's fair.

    MisManager's philosophy on calling in sick: if you choose to not show up, you will be hounded by phone call or text with whiny guilt trips.  When it comes down to actually doling out disciplinary action for missing too many days, she prefers to excuse their behavior.  It makes my life a living hell, because we set a precedence for everyone else when we do that.

    For example, EVM, rightfully, should have been fired 3 years ago.  When it really gets down to it, though, MisManager has been dodging the necessary steps to take this action by postponing write ups and giving multiple "final" written warnings.

    On Monday and Tuesday, Jailbait (I know, not EVM this time) has called into work with some sort of stomach virus.  I know this thing is working its way around because my daughter and grandma had it.  It's pretty vicious and it's easy to mistake for food poisoning.

    The current issue with Jailbait is that a) MisManager doesn't believe he's actually sick and b) he's out of sick time for the year already, because of a stomach flu in January.  Why she doesn't believe he's sick is beyond me, but she believes a lot of crazy things that have no basis in reality (as I'm about to illustrate for your entertainment).

    The last few days, I have been caught in a nightmare role as a middle man in a lunatic conspiracy plot.  It's making me want to crawl under a rock.  Or grab an icepick.  Or cry for my mommy.  I don't know at this point, but this has been the longest week ever.


    Stuck in traffic for 3 hours with two fighting preschoolers because some jackass pretended to pull a gun on cops on a freeway overpass.

    Oh, and I had a half pot of coffee before I left the house.

    So did I want to hear MisManager's crackhead theories about how Jailbait should be handling his illness like a man and coming to work regardless.  Or "irregardless" as she likes to say?  (Trust me, that can be it's own post right there.)  Did I want to stop myself from choking her when she was spewing this garbage in front of everyone else?

    Do I have to tell you that the answer to both those questions are, "no?"

    The finale of the impromptu free performance was MisManager asking me if I wanted her to call Jailbait to tell him that he needed to come in the next day "irregardless" of how he felt.  I know that the alternative to her calling is me calling, so my answer is "Uh, yeah.  You can take care of that one."

    He didn't answer her call, so MisManager was seething for the rest of the day that he was "dodging her."  While I was on my way home, he sent me a text asking what she wanted.  Oh, brother.   Which part of the shit sandwich am I on this one?

    Anyway, so just said something vague, like, "She wants to talk to you about tomorrow."  That was all.

    MisManager calls me twice while I'm working out and then again when I'm trying to choke down a 15 minute dinner before I have to put my kids to bed.

    What did he saaaaaaay?  Is that all he said?  What else did he say?

    I guess when I'm stuffing my face with food, while a screaming 2-year old is strapped to my leg, I sound a lot like I'm holding back a conniving conversation with a backstabber.  I'll have to work on that.


    Jailbait called in again.  The whole conversation:

    Jailbait: Hey, Awesomeness, I'm not coming in today.  I should be fine by tomorrow though.
    Awesomeness: Well, I hope you feel better, I'll see you tomorrow.
    Jailbait: I'll call you if that changes.
    Awesomeness: Thanks.

    I get into work and relay this to MisManager who is now giving me the whole, "Was that really all he said?" routine again.  I did what any grown up professional would do: I told her I had to pee and ran away.  I had a long day ahead of me and I didn't want to start this way.  I just had to dodge her for an hour.  I can do this.

    She was waiting for me outside the bathroom.  "Can I speak with you in private for a moment?"

    I would love to, but I have a client showing up to stab me repeatedly in the face any minute now, and I just can't miss that.

    Damn no-show.

    I feel like you're holding back on me.  What aren't you telling me about what he said?

    Oh, there's just no escaping this is there?

    I'm not holding back anything.  I get the impression like you expect me to have said or done more during the conversation I had with him.  I didn't say anything else, because it's not like I'm in a position to do anything about his absence.  That's his choice.  What you saw was my scrambling to not say that in front of the rest of the staff.

    I expected her to tear my head off, but she must have had a rare moment of clarity.  She just assured me that she doesn't expect me to demand his presence LIAR! and that she just wanted to make sure that I wasn't covering for him.


    Jailbait makes it back into the office.  Hooray!  We now have to serve him with a verbal warning for his attendance.  Boo!

    I wish that would have gone smoothly, but MisManager decided to throw the book at him and berate him for his call-in excuses.  From 2 years ago.

    The only reason I stayed in the room was because the exit was blocked.  Seriously.

    Jailbait, naturally got a little defensive and proceeded to let her know that he hadn't recently called in for anything other than his own illness.

    I ended this as quickly as possible.

    Later that day, she called me.

    Did you hear the way he was talking to me?  I can't believe he copped an attitude in there.  This seals it.  I need to get to the bottom of why he was really gone.  He wasn't sick. Did he look sick to you?  You know where this attitude is coming from?  EVM.  She did this!  You know what?  I'm done feeling sorry for her.  She's fucking GONE!  She's poisoning everyone.  I don't care what she does now, her ass is done.

    Honestly, if I thought she had the stones to make good on that threat, I would have celebrated.  Never gonna happen.


    I am now sitting in my room, where I've been for the last 3 hours, because I'm now laid up with the same stomach virus that Jailbait and my kid had.

    You missed, karma!  You missed.
    Monday, April 11, 2011

    Does He Know He Already Works For You?

    Well, we're at it again.  My Lead employee is leaving for a promotion opportunity at another office and we're hiring to fill her position.  Except, instead of filling her 40-hour position, MisManager has decided that we need two 20-hour employees.  Since I dodged the ulcer bullet trying to get New Girl hired on, (I'm going to have to find a new nickname for her soon...) I'm in for twice the fun this time, I'm sure.

    The first of the two candidates was easy for us.  We interviewed a man for the New Girl's position 3 months ago and we've heard that he was still interested in working for our company.  He interviewed very well, (and he has massive amounts of coffee-making experience) he seemed like he would be a good fit for our team, (as our new coffee boy) so I was disappointed then that he wasn't going to work for us (I mean, don't get me wrong, I make awesome coffee, but it's more awesome if someone else makes it).

    I was expecting to have to fight MisManager a little bit to give him a call back, but was pleasantly surprised when she whole-heartedly agreed that we should get him in for a follow up interview right away.  The caveat: she wanted to see him that afternoon.  Ugh.  Here we go again.

    Who knows, though, there may have been an off chance that the guy didn't have anything at all happening on a Friday afternoon....

    No.  He was occupied as I was sure he would be, but don't ask, don't get right?  I made an appointment with him first thing Monday morning and thought I did well.  I did until I reported my "success" to MisManager.

    MisManager: Why couldn't he come in today?
    Awesomeness: He has to work.
    MisManager: Well, we're trying to offer him a job, he can't change his schedule for one day?
    Awesomeness: Uh, no.  (Would our employees be able to change their schedule on an hour or two notice to go interview for a new job?  Oh, hell no they wouldn't.)
    MisManager: I'm starting to rethink calling him back.

    Well that's convenient.  Seeing as how I've already had a conversation with the dude.  I'll just call him right back and tell him that we've changed our minds again.

    See, this is the problem.  She acts like these applicants already work for her.  I have to remind her that they have prior commitments.  Especially the ones that we passed on three months ago.  This call came completely out of the blue.  I thought that he showed a real interest in agreeing to show up first thing in the morning on Monday.

    All is ending well (for all know how this circus goes).  We interviewed him this morning and I talked MisManager into calling the recruiter to get started on his onboarding before she changed her mind.

    In a few short weeks, I'm gonna have my very own Coffee Bitch!  Life is good.
    Tuesday, April 5, 2011

    Other Things Left Unsaid

    Last week, I wrote a post for my forum about things that I leave unsaid, forget to mention, assume is assumed, you get the picture.  I was feeling pretty down on myself at the time because I didn't feel like I participate enough with the people who reach out to me for friendship.

    And then I remembered....

    Sometimes, I think you need to whine less and think more.
    Sometimes, I want to tell you that you unfairly judge people based on rumors from unreliable sources.
    Sometimes, I think your baby is ugly.
    Sometimes, I want to nominate you for What Not To Wear.
    Sometimes, I think that your holier-than-thou attitude about crap that doesn't even matter makes me want to shake you.
    Sometimes, I'm really thinking about absolutely nothing.
    Sometimes, I am too insecure to share my own problems.
    Sometimes, I need a break because life just won't quit for 10 minutes so I can collect my thoughts.

    Not always, just sometimes.

    The lesson here is that it's actually better that I don't try to reach out on some occasions.

    *Note that in the above post, the term "you" is a generic amalgam of many, many people that I encounter during my day.  It in no way refers to you personally.

    **Or does it?
    Monday, March 28, 2011

    Your Timing Is Off...And Other Fun Memories From Today

    "We just wanted to bring a few things over for you and your tiny daughter."

    I knew today was going to be difficult after yesterday's phone call.  I was not expecting the infuriating blunderfest that MisManager made of the day.

    1. We have a meeting every Monday.  For today's meeting, we had invited a guest speaker.  It was one of our business partners who comes into the office frequently enough that he is well-acquainted with everyone, but not so often that he's "one of the family."  Instead of waiting until our guest had said his piece and giving everyone a chance to think about his advice, MisManager decided to make the announcement right away.

    This went something like:
    I have some news this morning.  Last night I got an unexpected call from (widowed employee).  Her husband died.  I guess it was a heart attack.  Right now, we need to do everything we can to help her out.  Mostly just keep her in your prayers.  So, Steve, you're here this morning to talk to us about....
    I could have slapped her.  Of course, our business partner was stunned and didn't recover from having to follow a death announcement. We'll probably have to invite him back to try it again.

    2. The advice she gave during her careless speech was that we should "do everything we can to help her out."  Widow Employee is a very private person under normal circumstances.  These are extremely trying circumstances.  The last thing we want to do is "everything we can."  What she really needs from us is to respect her privacy and leave her the fuck alone.

    I decided around the middle of the day to express my concerns to MisManager, because I was very afraid that some members of our staff (like EVM, who naturally preys on anyone in need) would take the comment as an open invitation to hound the poor woman.  I did not expect her to admit that she'd been trying to talk everyone else on the staff into delivering food to the grieving family.

    I don't know how I found big girl words to mask my rage as I delicately explained to her that she may want to rethink bombarding a person in mourning with more food than she and her daughter could eat.  Knowing the aggrieved, the statement we would make would be, "I'm sorry your husband died and whatever. Mind if we just barge in here and make you store some food that you're going to throw away later?"

    3. In this same conversation, I asked her if she had called one of our former employees who is pretty close to Widow Employee.  She tells me that she is "not proactively calling anyone."  Like this is a sales call.  She then advised me not to tell our former coworker unless I "just happened to be talking to her."  She also made a few other comments that insinuated that I'd just asked her if we called everyone who ever knew Widow.  I just wanted to call someone that I know she considers a friend.  Way to exaggerate my intentions.

    So, naturally, I called anyway.  Fuck that noise.  I can only imagine if she found out from someone else.  She would be very upset.

    4. On the way home from work today, I told Mr. A that he's not allowed to die while I still work for MisManager.

    Apparently her lack of tact is rubbing off on me.
    Sunday, March 27, 2011

    I Guess She's Sad Or Something

    I got a call tonight from MisManager.  She wanted me to know before we made it into the office tomorrow that a coworker's husband had just had a heart attack and passed away.  It wasn't a complete shock, as he had been unhealthy for a while, but nonetheless, it was still a sad announcement.  My heart immediately went out to his wife and daughter.

    I was a little distracted in my sympathy, though, by the turn the conversation took:

    We will have to look at the schedule when we get in, because she won't be back to work for a week.  I guess she's pretty sad about this...
    All I could say was, "Wow."  She thought I was talking about the news.

    We have to make this announcement to the staff tomorrow.  I sincerely hope she works on that line a little before the morning meeting.

    Rest in peace, Brett.
    Monday, March 21, 2011

    How Do You Know You're Bored?

    When you have an unexpected day off because your older child has an out-of-nowhere fever, and the most productive thing you've done all day is watch this:

    Wednesday, March 16, 2011

    Professional Dress Code

    As much as I'd like to say that man/woman workplace equality has progressed to a state where both sides get fair and equal treatment, there is one area that needs considerable improvement:

    Dress Code

    Men at my work are expected to wear long sleeved dress shirts, a tie, and dress slacks (in 100+ degree desert heat, no less), while women get to come in dressed in short sleeved, light cotton shirts, capri pants and dress sandals.

    Being a woman, I hate to complain about something that would seem to be an advantage, but is it really?  Most of the time, I ignore the normal female dress wear in favor of a suit.  Why?  Because if I don't, then clients ask my brand new male employees to come override my judgement when they don't agree with me.  

    It's happened.  I don't really blame the person either.  The men are dressed like serious professionals.  I'm dressed like their daughter who just borrowed $50.00.  After a couple of those misunderstandings, I decided that coming to work dressed like I mean business is a lot more important to me (and my staff) than looking frilly.  

    I don't feel like I'm "butching out" or losing my femininity in any way in a suit.  I can still wear my cutesy shirts under my suit jacket and accessorize well.  I can also occasionally find a pair of dressy sandals.  It's really not bad at all.

    Ever since I've become aware of this discrepancy, I get irritated when I see it elsewhere.  Nowhere more infuriating than on the morning news, though.  It's probably because I'm watching before my coffee's kicked in, but I get annoyed as all hell when I see this:

    I'm not sure what men's alternative styles would look like, but this is the official beginning of my plea to end fashion oppression.*

    *This is the official end.  I'm really not a fighter.
    Wednesday, March 9, 2011

    Way To Take Things Personally (Very Long...So Sorry!)

    No, seriously, if I knew this was going to turn into such a thing, I would have written about it as it went.  Stick with the story for tons of craziness.

    After a long hiatus from this blog, MisManager is making a big comeback.

    The back story:

    Almost 2 months ago, we started interviewing to replace one of my employees (no matter the position in my company, there are always 2 managers involved in the interviewing process).  We ended up with 3 very good applicants and 1 very crazy, stalkerish one.

    The very first candidate we interviewed, I loved.  MisManager hated.  Hated with a passion I could not even begin to describe with words.  What bought the applicant her own car on MisManager's Hate Train?  During the interview, Applicant admitted that she gets frustrated when her current manager doesn't communicate properly.  I can totally relate to her frustration.  It's something that I go through with MisManager daily.  It's no wonder MisManager took the comments personally.  In our post interview meeting:

    MisManager: So...what'd you think?
    Awesomeness: I really liked her.  I thought she answered our questions thoroughly and already has a strong work ethic and sales background.  She has a very open personality that will fit in well with the current staff.
    MisManager: I did not like her at all.  I have some serious concerns about her maturity and did you hear her response about her manager?  You don't bash your manager in an interview.  She'll poison the staff with her negativity.  Also, I disagree that she'll get along with the staff.  She and EmployeeVonMunchausen will clash.  Big time.

    Okaaaaay.  First of all, guess what the number one response has been in an interview to the question, "What is your biggest frustration in your current position?"  Communication.  I would give it, off the top of my head, about an 80% answer rate.  It leads to some rough times and it's a very valid frustration.

    Applicant's answer was very oriented toward the lacking behavior and spoke very intelligently about the effects it has on her and the rest of the staff.  In no way did she "bash her manager."

    Second of all, I think that rubbing EVM the wrong way is a good thing.  She needs to get shaken out of her little tree every now and again.  The rest of my current staff allows her to sulk and whine.  They just enable her to be a mopey asshole and I need troops to support my efforts to draw her out.

    MisManager disagreed with that assessment (even though she always talks about how outstanding I am at managing interpersonal conflict...this is my thing, lady, leave me to it).  Applicant was off the table.  This was unfortunate, because she was very good.

    Flash forward 2 weeks, we now have a couple of other interviews out of the way and settled on the 3rd candidate.  He was everything we were looking for and he managed not to "bash his manager" during the interview.

    Except, he decided to turn into a dick about pay.  He currently makes $10.00/hour + bonus.  We were offering him $11.00/hour + bonus with no previous experience in our line of work.  He wanted $12.50/hour + bonus and he wasn't budging.  I have employees that have been with me for 3 years that barely make $12.50/hour.  There's no way.  Douchey move, dude.

    So, this left MisManager and I discussing our Plan  B prospect.  I thought it was a no-brainer, since she seemed to have such a serious problem with Applicant #1.  Nope.

    MisManager: (speaking of Applicant #1) I think that she'll really be the best fit for us overall.
    Awesomeness: What happened to your concerns about her answers regarding communication?  You felt very strongly about that.
    MisManager: I don't think that we have communication issues here, so that wouldn't really concern me.

    She does this to me.  Oh my fucking god, it drives me batshit crazy.

    So we offer the position to Applicant #1, and she accepts.  She gladly accepts the same offer of pay that the last guy turned down and is excited to come aboard.  Then the real fun begins.

    MisManager: When can she start?
    Awesomeness: She's got to give her 2 week notice, then she'll need to start the following Monday.  That puts her start date on Feb. 28.
    MisManager: Why didn't she already give her notice?
    Awesomeness: .... Because she hadn't gotten the job before today.
    MisManager: We need someone in here sooner than this.  She's not really leaving me with a good feeling.

    Oh crap.  Here we go again.  I put in an effort to try to reason with her.  It's illogical that someone would quit their current job before their new one is a done deal.  She wasn't listening.  Her point of view was that Applicant should have put in her notice on the first day that our Human Resources called her to extend the position.  This is not a one-day process though.

    • H.R. calls applicant.  Applicant may not get their voicemail right away because they're working or in school
    • Next day, applicant calls back.  They discuss hours and pay.  Applicant accepts.
    • Applicant goes through a thorough background check.  This takes 2 days.
    • Applicant gets drug tested. Results take up to 3 days.
    From the time we offer the job, to the time we send an official welcome letter, it's usually a week to a week and a half.

    Today's issue:

    Applicant has finally started.  This is her second week with us.  She is fitting in so well with my staff that it's almost like she's been there for years.  She's catching on to her job very quickly.  I love the way this is working out.

    Then Applicant, referred to hereafter as New Girl, lets slip that, while she was waiting for over a week for us to go through our long new hire selection process, her counterpart at her current job hurt herself and is now on medical leave.  So New Girl has quit, but her official end date was extended a bit because she's staying on, very part-time, to help them out until the other employee comes back.  I appreciate that kind of loyalty.

    New Girl hasn't said anything about needing any special consideration, so I'm left to ask if she feels that her responsibilities to her old job are going to cause a scheduling issue with our position.  The answer is a very quick and decisive, "NO!"  Our job is her primary focus.  I'm completely satisfied with this.

    MisManager, however, has decided to take this as a personal affront and unleashed a barely coherent mass of fury on me the other day:

    MisManager: I didn't even want her in the first place! (We knew this was coming.)  We gave her 2 weeks to quit that job (how magnanimous of us), so what the hell is she still doing there?  She lied to me.  She lied and I feel so betrayed right now.  She's not going to be here for long, you just wait and see.  How is she going to manage our job and this other job at the same time (people do it all the time; she's young, it's temporary, she'll survive)?  I'm going to have to sit her down some time today.  She needs to decide to either be here or be there.

    Aw, shitballs.  Now I can't leave her with a free minute to corner New Girl.  This is not going to happen.  New Girl's old job does not interfere with this job.  I don't really care what she does in her free time.  I really don't.  She's not out whoring or drugging.  She's not flashing her tits on a webcam.  I'm good.  She's good.  We're all good.  If MisManager backs her into a weird spot right now, I'm not sure that she'll think this job is worth her time if she has to work for a fucking nutbar.

    It's Wednesday morning and I'm already ready for the weekend.  And a stiff drink.
    Saturday, March 5, 2011

    The Waterbed (A Follow Up To "Waterbed City")

    It's finally here!  The waterbed.  I hadn't though about owning one since I was a teenager, but now I finally do and I must admit that I should have gotten one sooner.  The thing is totally cool.

    I especially love that it can be heated.  I've already told Mr. A that any time I feel like the old lady I am achy that I was going to remove the pillow top and just lay on the water...mattress...thingy.  (Whatever you call it.)  It's like a gigantic hot water bottle.

    Here's what it looks like without the cover:

    With the cover:

    Now to talk Mr. A into some bedding I like.....
    Wednesday, March 2, 2011

    Shitty Service Pediatrics

    I love my kids' pediatrician.  That woman is outstanding.  As a matter of fact, all of the doctors in that office are good people. The office staff, however, makes me want to tear shit up with a bat.

    Awesomeness: I need to make an appointment for my kids to follow up with a doctor.  They've had ear infections and one seems to be okay, but the other doesn't seem to be doing better.  I can't make it in today, but I'd like to get them in tomorrow.

    Awesomeness: Thanks.

    Awesomeness: Is that the only appointment you have?  It doesn't really work well for me.  I have to work.

    Awesomeness: Well, I don't have a choice, do I?  Book it.

    So, now I have to:

    • Drive an hour into work for an hour and 1/2 of work.
    • Drive an hour back to pick up the kids.
    • Drive 1/2 an hour to the doctor's office.
    • Drive 1/2 an hour back to the house, drop off the kids.
    • Drive an hour back into work for 3 hours of work.
    • Drive an hour back home.
    I'm not looking forward to this.  Mr. A is hiding the bats.
    Saturday, February 26, 2011

    Why We're Horrible Parents: Reason #163

    The other night, my daughter woke up crying.  She said that her stomach hurt, so Mr. A naturally assumed she was going to die.  I didn't think that 2 people needed to tend to a kid with a bellyache, so I fell asleep.

    At 2:30 in the morning, Mr. A wakes me up.  "She started throwing up."  Yup.  Sometimes kids with bellyaches do that.  "She's also got a fever."  Uh huh.  "She's at 99.8."  Jackass.  That's not a fever.  "She seems to be in so much pain.  She can barely walk."  Um, the kid who has been awake for about 20 hours and just finished puking her guts out can't walk right?  "I think we should take her in."  GRRRRRRR!

    I go downstairs and she's asleep on the couch.  "So, you want to start getting ready?"  No, I don't want to start getting ready, asshole!  I want to let our tired kid, who just threw up, get some sleep. 

    A while later, he won.  I don't know how, but at the time it just seemed easier to agree with him.

    We take her to Urgent Care, where Dr. Dipshit the nice doctor looks her over and starts jamming his hand into her belly.  "Do you see that?  Do you see the way she's flexing her stomach muscles?  We call that 'guarding'."  Oh, no you fucking didn't. This has got to be some joke you play on dumb parents who bring their kids to Urgent Care for no reason.  Anyone with half a sense of logic can tell that she's just reacting to you jamming your hands repeatedly into her tender belly.  He urged us to take her to the children's hospital for an ultrasound because he thinks she might have appendicitis.

    What do we look like, fucking moro....

    Where's Mr. A going?

    To the emergency room at the children's hospital.

    Oh, please.  I just want to get myself and my kid home for some much needed sleep.

    Nope.  To the emergency room we go.  A doctor there takes a look at her, asks us questions about what brought us in, takes some notes...

    Doctor Judgypants:  When was the last time she had a bowel movement?

    I look at Mr. A; he looks at me; we shrug.  "Uh, we have no idea."

    Doctor Judgypants: Neither of you can tell me about the last time she pooped?

    Oh, crap.  The part about keeping track of her crap wasn't in our kid's instruction manual. 

    Turns out she was blocked up.  Our co-pay is $250 for emergency room visits.  My daughter got a $250 enema that night.

    The whole time, though, the doctor kept pushing the issue, "You seriously have no idea when the last time she went was?  Do you know if she's gone at all this week?"

    My daughter has been fully potty trained for about 2 years now.  She wipes her own ass (most of the time) and everything.  How in the hell are we supposed to know when she's shitting?  We can ask her, I guess, but she doesn't have the best handle on the whole "time" thing.  Besides, she was answering, "Uh, huh," to every question.  "Kiddo, did you poop yesterday?"  "Uh, huh,"  "Did you poop out a goat on the moon?"  "Uh, huh,"

    If there's any parent out there that knows about when the last time their fully potty trained kid took a dump, please set me straight.
    Friday, February 18, 2011

    Waterbed City

    We are in the market for a new mattress.  Mr. A has a twitchy back and the little princess he cannot tolerate our cushy pillow top mattress any longer.

    (Seriously, we've only had the mattress for a couple of years.  There's no reason he should be this uncomfortable.)

    Taxes filed + return expected = mattress shopping has commenced.  He knows that he will no longer be able to rest his dainty head on a regular spring mattress any longer, as they've been banned by the Geneva Convention as instruments of torture. *cough* So he's put in some time to do research on his alternatives.

    Air beds: no.  Apparently they're nothing but problems.  Most of the reviews he read have mentioned something about the air leaking out.  It really sounds like a pain-in-the-ass.

    Tempurpedic: no.  Something about the foam taking the shape of your body in no time flat.

    The last viable option he looked into was a waterbed.  For anyone who hasn't shopped for a new bed in a while, waterbeds are now made with foam sides so they can be placed on a regular bed frame.  They also no longer make you sea sick.

    This suited his majesty and he proceeded to locate places in town that sell these new wonder beds.

    The top Google search pick: Waterbed City.

    Sounds promising.  I mean, surely you can find one bed you like in an entire city of them.

    He pulls into the parking lot of a tiny storefront.  One other car graces the parking lot.  That would be the car of Waterbed City's one employee.

    He chanced walking in anyway, only to find 4 waterbeds.  He also swears that one of the mattresses had a blood stain.

    This place has some nerve calling itself Waterbed City.

    Waterbed City, you have officially been downgraded to Waterbed Village of the Damned.

    **this post has been brought to you today by 2 Margaritas**
    Thursday, February 3, 2011


    Citizens of Phoenix:

    You all are the whiniest motherfuckers EVER.  It got cold yesterday.  Get over it.  You have to put up with 37F, beautiful, sunny weather while the rest of the country is buried in ice.

    It's not raining.  It's not snowing.  It's barely windy.  The only reason you notice the wind is because the low temps make it kinda chilly.

    I left the house without jacket or gloves yesterday.  Me.  The girl who resides in a house kept at 75F and feels the need to dress in sweats and socks and is currently covered in a heavy comforter.  Brrrrr.

    You, at large, left your house in motherfucking parkas.  Dramatic?  A thick sweater really would do, you dicks.

    The accidents on the road: unbelievable.  You would think that there really was ice everywhere with as much as you people were crashing into one another.  There were 3 accidents within a half-mile of my work as I was leaving.  Mr. A went around these and found himself trudging by another accident a mile down the road.

    You are not in the arctic.  You are not even in the Midwest.  You need to collectively man up and deal with the fact that it was chilly for 2 fucking days in your desert paradise.

    Sunday's projected temp: 71F.  The rest of the country will still be buried in snow and your spoiled ass will be golfing.

    Shut the fuck up.
    Wednesday, February 2, 2011

    First, Start With Your Eyeballs...

    Hello there, People Who Clean The Office.

    I am very grateful for the work you do.  I wouldn't do it if you paid me a million dollars, so the fact that you do it for slightly more than minimum wage makes you saints in my eyes.

    Speaking of eyes, I'd like to point out that using them every so often would greatly improve, not only the quality of your work, but our relationship as well.

    The issue starts with the fact that you only come in to clean at night, long after I've left and long before I return.  Our sole method of communication is through a notebook that we keep in the closet with your cleaning supplies.

    Last Monday, when you came in, you left me a note that said, "Need peper towls."  Spelling errors aside, this was an effective communication that we were running low on a much needed supply.  Peper towls were ordered and the box was placed just inside the closet door underneath the shelf that holds the notebook.

    Wednesday rolls around and you write in the book, "".  This tells me that you still need peper towls.  Um, I hate to embarrass you, but you had to climb over a case of peper towls to get to the notebook where you're making your ditto marks.  Surely, you will see this the next time.

    Friday, more "".  Wow.  The box has a big, blue picture of peper towls right on it.  I turned the box so that you might notice this finally.

    Monday, I get "" and arrows.  My bad for not opening the peper towl box for you.  I also placed some peper towls next to the notebook.  Now that I've done that, let's see if you can find them tonight.
    Monday, January 24, 2011

    My Crazy Week, Part 3: The Stabbing

    On Thursday, I was about 2 minutes away from ending my lunch when the yelling started.  I had no idea what was happening, but I have one of those weird instincts that directs me toward potential danger.  Much like the dumb people in horror movies.  If I were watching myself, I'd yell, "No, Awesomeness!  Stop!!  The killer is out there!" Then I'd watch myself get harpooned and flung off of a balcony.

    Anyway, I hauled my ass out of the breakroom to find two men running around the lobby.  One of them was throwing our signs, stands and other marketing tools we keep laying around, at the other.  We also had a client in the lobby, so my priority became getting her behind a door and out of the way.

    Especially after the knife came out.  Now I know that this isn't some game of Ring Around The Rosies gone wrong.  My staff was on top of it, as no less than 3 of the 4 were on the phone with 911 by the time I was pulling the client through the door that leads to our breakroom.  The 4th was rushing to help me get the client to safety.

    We didn't actually see the stabbing, and thank goodness, because no one wants to witness that.  We just knew that the guy being chased suddenly had blood coming from 2 places on his head and the chaser was running out the door.

    The cops showed up within a minute.  That's the one nice thing about the neighborhood I work in; there's always a ton of crime, but it means the police are always near.

    After the dust settled on the actual activity, the back story came out: Stabber's girlfriend was raped, Stabber thought Stabbee did it.  He showed up at Stabbee's doorstep and started attacking him.  Stabbee ran.  Why he ran to our office is so far beyond me, I don't even have a guess, but that's what he did.

    Stabber came back with the girlfriend at some point before the cops left and turned himself in.  At least we don't have to worry about him coming back to silence us.

    Of course, then the real excitement starts.  When the grapevine effect kicks in and the story starts circulating around, it takes some really interesting turns:

    • Stabber's girlfriend also ended up getting stabbed.
    • Client was thrown to the ground and kicked.  (Today, the story was she was taken away in an ambulance.)
    • Stabber's girlfriend also got arrested.
    • Blood was everywhere and they shut down the office. (The blood only got on his shirt.)
    It was also interesting to see the differences in reactions to the events across the members of the staff:

    • EVM kept swearing she thought Stabber was going to pull a gun and start shooting everyone.
    • Lead Employee (again, she really needs a nickname...) just cared that client was fine, otherwise, it was Thursday.
    • The two employees from sales just cared that the clients that were sitting in front of them would come back in (I'm not sure one of them will).
    • I got mad.  
    At first, I was mad at Stabber.  He was the apparent bad guy in this.  Then I looked at the video.  Stabbee ran into the office, yelled at the staff  that someone was after him and to call the cops (the yelling I heard), ran back out of the building and started yelling and pointing at Stabber, only to be chased back in by Stabber.  Now, I think Stabbee brought this on himself a little.

    This coming from the girl that ran right into the fray.

    Stabbee is fine.  He's got some stitches and staples, but he lives to lure potential murderers into the office another day.
    Sunday, January 23, 2011

    My Crazy Week, Part 2: Pimp Daddy

    As an establishment that deals in finances, validating a person's signature is something we do from open to close and in a multitude of ways.  From merely checking an I.D. to providing a Signature Guarantee or affixing a Medallion Stamp, if you've got a signature, we can make it official.  One of our most popular demands is for the service of a Notary Public.

    Nowadays, everything needs to be notarized.  I notarize field trip forms for parents (sorry, kids of today, no one trusts you anymore), I notarize vehicle titles, adoption papers, affidavits, wills and trust papers.  One time I was asked to notarize a ... we'll just call it a contract for physical favors.  As a professional, I declined.  As an unprofessional, I thought it was the funniest thing ever and so wanted to do it.

    There are a couple of different ways you can notarize a signature.  The first way is by acknowledgement.  This means that you are merely acknowledging that the person who appeared before you is the person who was entitled to sign the document and that you verified their signature.  It's the most common notarization.  The other way to notarize is by jurat.  For a jurat, the document you're notarizing must be completed in its entirety and the signer must swear that the contents are true and correct.  This type of notarization is used for documents where the integrity of the information is paramount.  This would be used for affidavits and such.

    On Wednesday, we watched a car pull in.  Out of this car comes 3 ladies, all looking a little rough.  Like they've, um, been around the block a few times.  *wink, wink*  At this point, we couldn't see the driver of the vehicle because of glare, but we had enough entertainment just watching the Ladies climb out of the car and hold a mini-conference before coming into the office.

    Lady #1 approached my Lead employee and asked to get a notarization on a form she presented.  It contained the certificate for a jurat, so Lead (I really, really need to come up with a nickname for her...) looked over the document to make sure it was completed in its entirety.  Of course it wasn't and it was 3 pages long.  Lady #1 had a lot of writing to do.

    In the meantime, Ladies #2 and #3 kept looking anxiously out the window.  It was distracting to watch them whisper to one another and then, almost in unison, turn their heads to look back at their car.  I thought, "What in the what is going on here?"

    My question was answered when, after about 5 minutes, a guy came in and started growling angrily at the girls.  "What's taking so long?  This was supposed to be done a long time ago....mumble, mumble, growl....yo' ass out to the car..."

    He walked around like that in our lobby until the whole menagerie left.  Now, I'm not going to make a character judgement, but I will merely point out some facts:

    • Fact # 1: he was very sharply dressed.
    • Fact # 2: he carried a big, solid-looking walking stick.
    • Fact # 3: those ladies were very nervous around him.
    • Fact # 4: he was, very clearly, the boss of them.
    ...and from that, I will let you draw your own conclusions.
    Friday, January 21, 2011

    My Crazy Week, Part 1: The Applicant

    My first clue that something was wrong was when I called this girl and she couldn't figure out how to work her phone.  The second was when I asked if she'd like to come in to interview and she said, "Sure."  Just a flat, blah, "Sure."  I didn't expect her to be "piss-my-pants" excited, but I knew with that non-committal reply that she was not a good fit.  We called our Recruiter and asked if it was necessary to even do an interview.  It wasn't.  Her application sucked, and neither MisManager nor I wanted to do it, but we decided to be nice and give her a courtesy interview.

    I found out just how unexcited she really was when she called up about an hour before her interview and canceled.  No explanation, she just couldn't make it.  She wanted to reschedule for 15 minutes after we normally leave the office.  We said, uh no.  Then she offered to call us to let us know when she was going to be available later that day.  Wow...

    Listen here, sister, we're interviewing because we're missing a member of our team.  This means we're doing extra work.  We. Are. Busy. You're off yer frickin' rocker if you think we're going to rearrange our whole damn day for you.

    We called Recruiter and said we would like to pass on her all together.  Recruiter said, "No sweat!  I will call and let her know that you went with another applicant."  This was not a lie, since we'd already had 2 good interviews and another outstanding applicant on the way (this would be the one we selected).

    What was a lie, was that Recruiter was going to call her.  Which, may not be fair, since I don't know if Flaky Applicant figured out how to work her phone.  So, Recruiter may have actually called her all day long.  She obviously never reached her, though, because the next day Flaky calls up again wanting to know why she didn't hear back from us about that interview.  She assertively pointed out that she was going to be available after 4:00.  Flaky left this message with one of my employees.

    We called Recruiter to find out why she hadn't talked to Flaky.  She was out of the office.  And will continue to be until Monday.  Aw gawdammit.  Well, we'll just continue to ignore her calls I guess.

    Until she calls again the next day and leaves a message with EVM.  Then calls later that day to insistently demand to hold for either me or MisManager.  I have no idea how long she was on hold, but I'm sure it was a record.

    I guess we could have spoken with her, but we were occupied by other, more urgent matters, as I will discuss in later posts.  The rest of my crazy week will be broken down into a few parts, but will include:

    • Someone almost getting pimp slapped in our lobby.  Like, by a really real pimp.
    • Someone getting stabbed in the head in our lobby.  
    • The Amish.  (Okay, this will not get it's own post, but whatever in the hell are the Amish doing in Phoenix?)
    • Wackjob Wednesday.

    I hope I have the brain cells to carry this forward.
    Wednesday, January 19, 2011

    How To Piss Off Your Boss

    I knew yesterday was going to be an off day when EmployeeVonMunchausen showed up 5 minutes late with breakfast from Sonic.  Because nothing says, "I totally could've made it to work on time, but fuck you," like strolling in late with breakfast.

    She follows that up with an indignant remark about us opening the office doors before she'd gotten a chance to get her desk ready.

    Then comes the barrage of asinine questions: 
    "Awesomeness, the software that runs our daily reports isn't working.  We got a message saying it's down at every office.  What do you want me to do?"  
    Um, wait until it's working again and then pull the reports.

    "Awesomeness, my sales tracking software is still not working!  What do you want me to do?"
    The same thing I wanted you to do on Friday, when you first reported the problem.  Call tech support and have them figure it out.  That's, like, their job and stuff.

    "Awesomeness, I have a phone call for MisManager, but she's got a client.  What do you want me to do?"
    (No, really.) I want you to take a message or send the client to her voicemail.

    Anything after that, I battled the urge to say, "I want you to banish yourself to an alternate dimension."

    We were short-handed because "Carlos's" last day was the previous Thursday and Jailbait is on vacation.  I'm trying to juggle in some interviews to replace "Carlos" and this is really my #1 priority.  I needed her to be on top of her game today.  Instead, I got this bungler that thought it was appropriate to procrastinate her lunch by half an hour, thereby screwing me out of half an hour of my lunch.  This was time I desperately needed so I could readjust my mental focus before continuing on with interviews.

    Then the final straw: she couldn't figure out how to resolve her work at the end of the day.  There are some things that can't wait until the next day to get sorted out.  She managed to find every single one of those things and fuck it up.

    Does she really have to ax murder someone to get fired?  (Sadly, I'm convinced the answer is yes.)

    Interestingly, my horoscope agrees that a come-to-Jesus is in order.  This really was written just for me.  The only thing missing is my name.

    January 19, 2011

    1. TaurusTaurus (4/20-5/20)
      Uh oh. You've been trying and trying and trying some more to Just Say No to being mad -- still -- but you just can't seem to get rid of that urge to let go and let you-know-who have it. The problem is that just about everyone around you -- even those not ordinarily prone to 'yessing' you for brownie points -- seems to agree. Oh, this one calls for drastic measures. How about a sit-down talk? A 'state of the relationship' kind of thing? Neutral turf and chaperones/advisors are a must.