Sam the Apple Polisher

Every workplace has a cast of characters. At mine, there is the woman who talks incessantly about her cats. The guy who’s confused about his sexuality. Another guy who rants and raves about politics and religion, even when we’re talking about something else. Every now and then one of the temps will be a closet racist, or a truther, or a bible thumper. Most of the people are cool, though.

But there is one guy we all avoid. The hall monitor. The teacher’s pet. The goddamn apple polisher.

Sam has been with the company seemingly forever, long before I came on board. He used to work in HR, but now he’s just a drone like the rest of us. Some of my co-workers used to hang out with Sam after hours, have a few drinks, whatever. By all accounts he’s a nice, easy-going guy outside of work. It’s sort of hard to believe, because at work he drives us up the fucking wall.

It’s like he has anointed himself HR’s eyes and ears all across the cube farm. Take too long on break? There’s Sam giving you the hairy eyeball. Complain aloud about all the petty rules were subjected to? There’s Sam with the rule book in his hand, quoting exact regulations and reminding us that we all signed an employee agreement. Sometimes you even find yourself getting hauled into an HR interview because Sam has reported you for some minor infraction.

But the worst part? He gets away with it. Even if he pulls the same shit as anyone else. Mostly because of Mr. Grant, one of the big muckety mucks in HR. Last week, we were all so fed up with it that we confronted Mr. Grant. All we asked was that he treat Sam like the rest of the employees. We thought it was perfectly reasonable request, but what we got was basically,a big fuck you. Maybe it’s because they used to work together, I don’t know, but Mr. Grant shot down all our complaints about Sam. He pretty much tied himself in knots, twisting logic to give Sam a pass. Really fucking aggravating.

After that, the place was practically in mutiny. We really didn’t have any recourse but people were still finding ways to complain. Finally, one of the big brass, Ms. Bell, came down and shut the whole thing down. Told us to shut the fuck up and get back to work. We’re all still pretty pissed. I dont’ know why she intervened…Sam probably called her.

It’s fucked up. It’s a pretty good place to work but sometimes it seems like it’s run by incompetent fucktards.

By chance does Sam and or Mr Grant happen to moderate any longstanding internet message boards?

I suspect most people feel the same way about their places of work.

What’s the corporate equivalent of a blanket party?

Mr Grant? Lou Grant?

Reading the first paragraph I was wondering if it would turn out to be an allegory for the SDMB.

Well done, OP.

This will not end well.

Fucking brilliant.

Please cite “that he gets away with it” if that’s you wish to discuss. For example, it has been said by who that we have "hairy eyeballs? My eyeballs aren’t hairy. Can you provide 23 cites showing people have hair on their eyeballs?

At least some of us realize that “knots” aren’t “twisted”, they’re tied. :rolleyes:

I’m a frayed knot!

Again, said by who?


Apple polisher.

§ 39-1-1(a), Ala. Code 1975, White-Spunner subsequently obtained two payment bonds from Hartford, one of which would compensate Auburn in the event White-Spunner failed to perform under the contract, the other of which would be used to compensate subcontractors and suppliers in the event White-Spunner failed to do so in a timely fashion. Apples were subsequently polished.

“I LIKE IT!” - John Bigbooty

That’s not an apple.


He might be a knob gobbler instead.

I’m sure the employees would go somewhere off management’s property to commiserate, like a local snack bar.