Two quick points of background, that will increase the irony in the following situation considerably:
- I work for a company that sells office furniture across the country.
- I have extremely limited handyman skills.
Okay, on to the frustrating part:
My office, in the sprawling megaplex worldwide HQ of our company (total employee count here: 30), is located just off the reception area. Our receptionist is getting a new reception station. Very nice station. Looks quite official.
The professional installers came to assemble the reception station today. They have been here all day. These are guys from the factory that actually made the reception station; the factory flew them down specifically for this job. (We sell a buttload of stuff for this manufacturer, so they suck up to us whenever they can.) If one were having office furniture assembled at one’s workplace, and one wanted the best possible team to do the assembly, one would naturally assume that the factory would be the best option to provide world-class assemblers.
One would be an idiot.
For reasons unfathomable to me, these guys have stripped out every single screw they have put into this reception station. And because my office is just around the corner from the reception station (in fact, shares a wall with the reception station), I get to hear them strip out each screw with their power screwdriver.
And my favorite:
[sub]veeeeee[/sub] … [sub]veeeeee[/sub] … [sub]vee[/sub]RRRRNNNNNKKKK!
As Dale Evans said to Roy Rogers when she caught him riding his horse bareback, “Easy on that Trigger, boy.”
As I said, I have very limited handyman skills, but even I can adjust my itchy little trigger finger on the button of a power screwdriver after a couple of stripped screws.
Did you know there are exactly 1,486 screws that hold together the reception station at the front of our office? I bet you didn’t. I do, though. Because I’ve heard every damn one of them being stripped out today!
We can only pray that this reception station won’t have to be adjusted once these guys leave. We’ll never get a single screw out of this thing.
I shudder to think that when one of our dealers sells a large corporate customer 500 complete offices, these are the “pros” that get sent out to do the installation.
I haven’t looked at their name tags. I’m guessing their names are Candi and Bambi, or something similar.
Have you ever tried to input marketing information into a database while screws are being stripped every ten seconds just eight feet away? It ain’t possible.
I may go hide in the bathroom for the rest of the workday, while Candi and Bambi finish their stripping.