Canadian…Ron,eh?
Oh no. no no no! This rhymes with “metropolis” and made me think of a city populated entirely by Rons!
The horror.
Ghetto - Rroohynn
Today’s Ronulian Thread: The Tale of Wally
My intern was going back to college the last week in August, and my new assistant wasn’t starting until the 2nd week of September. So I had a one-week gap where I wouldn’t have extra help, and it was during the launch one of our bigger marketing campaigns. So I asked HR to provide me with a temp.
Wally had just finished up an assignment in another department. I had him for 3 weeks to overlap the intern /new assistant.
On Wally’s first day, I explained that we had a 3-piece mailer that had to get distributed internally to 500 employees. I was going to be in and out of meetings all day, but the intern understood the project and could answer any questions Wally had.
There were 3 parts to the mailer:
· An internal memo
· A copy of the newspaper ad
· The sample postcard
Each part was coming from different places and at different times, and it would be his job to make sure to make/grab 500 copies of each and put them in the pre-labeled interoffice envelopes.
I knew it was confusing, but as I explained, Michael the intern understood the entire project and could answer any questions.
The first piece of the 3-piece mailer was the memo. I needed it copied on to letterhead once, and then 500 copies of the letterhead memo made (trying to save the letterhead, but still get the logo)
I came out of the meeting to find 500 copies of the memo all made, but no logo.
“Oops, Wally. Looks like we forgot to copy it on to letterhead. That’s okay, I know it was a little confusing. Michael can show you how to copy the logo on them.”
Wally looked confused. “It is on letterhead.”
It was clearly not on letterhead.
“No, I mean, the letterhead with the company logo on it. See the space at the top? That’s where the logo is supposed to go.”
“The logo is on the memo,” he insisted.
I double-checked then looked curiously at Wally. Maybe it was like the emperor’s new clothes, because I didn’t see diddley or squat of a logo. Michael (my angelic intern) swept in and handled it while I rushed off to the next meeting.
As I left meeting #2, I saw that the newspaper ad had been faxed over.
“Here’s the second part to that 3-piece mailer, Wally,” I said as I handed it to him. “We still need the postcards, those will come from the printer later today. But in the meantime, just make 500 copies of this and put them in the interoffice mailer with the memos. We’ll add the third part to the envelopes this afternoon.”
Michael swooped in again to make sure the fax was copied correctly and I went off to my 3rd meeting.
Then it was lunchtime. My whole department liked to eat together – and we invited Wally along. He was finishing up a few things, but he’d been working at our location for a while, so I assumed he would just catch up with us in the downstairs cafeteria. We headed down the hall when I heard this panicked cry of my name.
I turned to see Wally running at us. Expecting to find out that we’d hit an iceberg or something, it became obvious that he just didn’t want us to leave him behind.
As we headed down the stairs, he asked me: “On the interoffice envelopes, do you prefer that the string be wrapped in a loop around the 2 red circles, criss-crossed in a figure eight pattern, or just all around the bottom loop?”
I looked up with a laugh, assuming he was making a joke to lighten up after his struggles this morning. But he was dead serious. I swallowed carefully and then answered, “Whatever works best for you, Wally, is fine with me.”
At lunch, we were all talking about the horrendous traffic that morning and other problems with the local highways. Wally joined in with, “Yeah, like last night? My girlfriend and I went out for dinner and when we got home the cat was sick all over the place.”
(pause)
(because we were waiting to figure out what that had to do with traffic.)
Wally went back to eating and so did we, trying to cautiously sneak glances at him for signs of alien matter when he wasn’t looking. On our way back to the department, I decided to check in the mailroom to see if the sample postcards had arrived from the printer yet.
I sent Wally up with Michael and walked past the reception desk. One of my co-workers stopped me. “I see you got our Wally.”
“Omg,” I said. “Is he always like this?”
“Oh yes,” she said. “We didn’t want to hurt his feelings though, so we just told HR that his assignment was finished so that we could get rid of him.”
(pause because I don’t want to talk about the tears I wept then.)
I decided to shake it off and head on to the mail room. I mean, really, how bad could it be? And hurray! The postcards had arrived for the 3-piece mailer! I grabbed a few samples and headed back to my department.
“Wally, the postcards are finally here for that 3-piece mailer. Michael will go down to the mailroom with you so you guys can grab the boxes and start putting them in the envelopes. I’ve got one more meeting and then I’m headed off-site for the rest of the day.”
Wally nodded his head slowly, and then waited for Michael to return from the bathroom so they could head down. I went in to my office to check emails and faxes for a few minutes. I heard a knock at my door and turned around to see Wally standing in the doorway.
“Umm, other than these 3 pieces, are there any other pieces for this 3-piece mailer?”
I looked Wally in the eye. “Nope. Other than those 3 pieces, those are the only 3 pieces for the 3 piece mailer.”
Wally sighed. “Okay then. Because I chose the figure-eight pattern to seal the envelopes and now I have to undo them all.”
That was Wally’s first and last day working for me.
This is spectacular.
These things are important.
Maybe the cat could help.
And, this has been so highly impressed on me that I now have to shiver every time I touch an inter-office envelope.
I had to stop reading a couple of times; everyone on my end of the office was giving me the fish eye for trying (hopelessly) to stifle my outbursts of laughter.
You certainly have a way with words, MelodyHarmonius, and the above quote shows that there is no sequitur like a non-sequitur
I did a spit take when I read that. 
:o
y’all are just too kind.
And I picture your fish eye, with the fish lips of one of the guys I once went on a first/last date with . . .and I shudder. :smack:
That sounds kinda like the old guy who was working for a company I contracted with in the early 90’s. When I started there, he was a programmer. I’d heard he’d been in accounting before that. Then he got moved to some office job. Then, in less than a year, he was demoted to the mail room. They tried so hard not to fire this guy, but within about 3 months of being in the mail room, they were facing so many sexual harassment lawsuits from the young women (and the one young man!) working in that department that they had to cut him loose regardless of his constant threats to sue the crap out of them for age discrimination.
Unless it’s Quebec which would make it Roné but pronounced the same.
Somehow, MelodyH, in my mind’s ear I can hear that high pitched whine of “…But, but, how was I to know that the inter-office envelope,… wasn’t the third part of the three part mailer unless someone told me?”
These stories are great! Not that I wish more Ron-type induhviduals (Ronduhviduals?) on you, but…you certainly do make the most of the ones you do get. 
“Into each life, a little Ron must fall.” You’ve certainly gotten more of your share. 
Scandinavian…Ron Ronson
So, he’d put two pieces in the three-piece mailer envelopes and closed them with a figure-eight, and now that he knew the three-piece mailers were one piece short he wanted to know if there would be a fourth piece before he undid all the eights to add the third piece to the first two?
At least he’s learning.
You said there wouldn’t be any math in this thread! :mad:
It’s okay - just close your eyes, it will all be over soon.
Please don’t say that.
More Ron! More Ron!
Or something that sounds exactly the same. 
A couple of years ago I had VinceRon assigned to me when my armored partner was on vacation.
On the first day, all went well and there were no signs of what was to come.
On the second day, when we’re supposed to be working together to load the truck, VinceRon decides to go to the restroom and then sit in the breakroom until we’re ready to leave. Since I could not leave the truck (and money) unattended, I was constantly asking, then finally yelling at other people to find my fucking driver and get his ass back to the truck to help me load the pallet(s) of coin. I reamed him out about the nature of the job and walking away from the truck while we’re supposed to be working.
At our very first stop, due to construction where we normally parked to service a parking ramp, we’re parked blocking the north exit, which is rarely used. When I come back to the truck, someone is parked there waiting for our truck to move and VinceRon is oblivious to their presence despite the liberal use of their horn. I put my stuff in the truck and tried to instruct him, by radio, voice and hand signals, to move forward. Dumb fucker just couldn’t grasp the concept of it all and sat there with the backup lights and alarm going off, trying to wave the car past our back end while I kept yelling at him that he needed to pull forward another foot and take the damned truck out of reverse. When the car finally did try to exit behind us, VacantVince threw it into reverse and damn near hit the guy. :rolleyes:
After our second stop, we had to go from the left side of the street, cross three lanes of traffic and take a right. VinceRon starts going and really floors it. In less than a block we’re up to 35 mph (those trucks can really haul ass!) Only problem was that the intervening light turned red when we were about 100 feet from it.
20,000 pound truck moving 40mph straight at traffic crossing in front of us. Driver not paying attention. :eek: I braced myself for impact and started screaming bloody murder. SCREEEEEEEEECCHHHHH! We come to a stop about 2’ past the crosswalk, cars passing right in front of us.
I thought that would have woken him up, as he apologized profusely, but he later turned onto the light rail tracks facing an oncoming train, made a u-turn directly in front of someone, and seemed to have serious problems paying attention and following directions. I went into the office after work and said I didn’t want this guy in my truck EVER again. After some discussion, and agreement that maybe it was just a really bad day and we hadn’t had any problems the previous day, I reluctantly agreed to take him one more day, with the understanding that if it didn’t work out, they’d pull him from my route.
The next day, we have some of the same issues, but not nearly as bad. He turned onto the light rail tracks again, which was damned stupid. He couldn’t follow parking directions for shit.
Then we’re driving down a major inner city street and I’m looking at my paperwork in the back when my peripheral vision starts screaming. I look up just in time to think “oh shit, we’re way too close…” There’s a delivery truck parked on the side of the road. The driver is in it and his arm is hanging out the window. Just as I have that thought, the driver sees us coming and yanks his arm back - just in time to avoid our front wide-angle mirror passing through that space and completely taking out his side mirror. I do this :eek::eek::eek: for several seconds in shock.
Snapping out of it, I tell Vince that we hit a parked vehicle. Vince says, in complete surprise, “where?” and starts looking in every direction EXCEPT back at the truck he clipped. I pause again in shock. We’re still moving. I say “Vince, you clipped a parked truck back there. Stop the truck.” Vince pulls the ‘look in every possible direction including up and to the left’ (:rolleyes:) bullshit and keeps going. Absolutely stunned, it takes me another half block to react, by which time we’re over 2 blocks away, to repeat it a third time and angrily instruct him that we hit the fucking truck on the right side of the road, so stop looking everywhere else, you jackass! BUT WE KEEP GOING!!!
Our next stop was now only a block away, so I figured we’d just get there. Then I’d call it in to our company and wait to see if either the police showed up (for the hit and run) or the driver of the truck. No one showed, so we went about our day.
That night, I immediately met with the ops manager to discuss, then he went to talk to VinceRon. He simply asked VinceRon how his day went, and VinceRon said “ok”, nothing more. VinceRon was fired a couple of days later for both having an accident during his probationary period, and failing to report it.
Oh, but that’s not all!
A couple of months later, I was called in early to participate in a teleconference with the Unemployment Appeals Judge. VinceRon had filed for unemployment. The company had denied it. VinceRon had appealed and gotten it. The company was appealing because he’d been fired for just cause.
VinceRon had no attorney. His entire defense consisted of repeated statements that he didn’t report the accident because no one was hurt and he didn’t think it was such a big deal. He tried to turn it around by claiming that I was being unfair to him and had been yelling at him all the time.
The judge asked him point blank “Did you ever think that maybe you were just unsuited to this kind of work?” Classic.
She also had no sympathy for him over me yelling at him, because I explained exactly what I had yelled at him about and why, and he could not deny those reasons. Lessee…I yelled at him because he basically walked off the job to take a break. I yelled at him (very briefly) because he almost plowed into cross traffic at 40mph. I yelled at him (briefly) for turning onto the light rail tracks. TWICE. I yelled at him because he hit a parked vehicle. I yelled at him because I had to give him some road directions five times in three blocks and he still messed them up. (Turn left at the light up ahead, turn right at the next light.) Boo fucking hoo.
This was at 4:30pm. The judge had three days or more to consider her decision. We got the judgement in our favor in the mail the next day, meaning that she sent it out before 5pm.