The Work Rant Thread - Post Your Own Toilin' Trouble

I figure everybody could use a place to bitch about their work once in a while. Here y’go. Feel free to respond to somebody else’s rant or post your own.

I work at: Staples, The Office Superstore
My job title is: Front End/Copy Center Associate
TO THE CUSTOMERS:
I am a cashier. I am not psychic. I do not know whether this pen is what you want unless you tell me what you want it for. I do not know whether these labels are the right size unless you tell me what you want to label with them. I do not know whether this software will work with your computer unless you tell me what OS you are running, at the very least.

I work at the customer service desk. The return policy is posted behind me on a gigantic sign, three feet tall and eight feet wide. The return policy is printed on the back of your receipt. The return policy is written on a sticker that is slapped on all large boxes and packages we send out of the store. The return policy is something I have no control over. You have thirty days to return a product, with the receipt. If it’s a computer-related item, you have fourteen days. With the receipt. If you paid with check, I can’t give you cash back until after ten days have passed. If you paid with credit card, I can only refund the money as a credit on the card you originally used to pay for it. If you don’t have a receipt, all I can give you is store credit. If you’re two or three days past the return date, I’ll cut you some slack. If it’s been a month, and you’re returning a computer keyboard, I’ll cut you some slack because hey, maybe you didn’t realize the keyboard was under the 14-day policy. If it’s been a year and a half, parts of the product are missing and/or broken in half, and you want cash back, I’m going to have to send you away unhappy. Too bad for you.

I work in the Copy Center. I am not a miracle worker. I can’t turn a black-and-white photograph from 1952 into a color picture just by running it on our color copier. I can’t take all the scratches off this picture with the copier. I can’t run off 3,000 copies in the next five minutes. I can’t give you color copies for the price of black and whites. I can’t help it if you’re too stupid to read the 5-foot-by-twelve-foot sign hanging over my head to get the prices, and too obstinate to ask me for a price check before you order 125 double-sided color copies with complete confidence that implies you know what you’re getting into. I can’t be held responsible for the store’s pricing policies, and I can’t cut you a break without losing my job. I don’t even know you. Sure, I’ll cut you a break, if you’re willing to give me $200 a week.

Your jokes are not funny, Customer. You are not original in making quips like “Gee, if there’s no price tag on it, it must be free!” and “It’s $4.99, here’s a five-dollar bill, keep the change!” or “Golly, that’s a lot of receipt! Har Har Har!”

The store closes at 8:00. Just because we are still here at 8:30 cleaning up does not mean you should be allowed in. The same applies before we open at 9:00 am. We show up at 6 to start getting set up for the day, unpacking freight and putting new signs on the shelves. You can’t come in at 7:15 just because you glimpsed a stockboy’s head, proving that the store is inhabited.

I am required by store policy to do certain things (which is reinforced by monthly Mystery Shops, after which I could be fired if the Mystery Shopper notices I fail to perform all my tasks). This includes asking if you’ve found everything you are looking for, inquiring as to whether or not you have one of our Business Rewards Cards, suggesting you protect your electronics/computer purchase with an extended warranty or a replacement plan, recommending our Monthly Hopefully We Will Make An Impulse Sale product, and thanking you at the end of the transaction. I am not asking about Business Rewards in an attempt to get your phone number and call you at your house to harrass you. I am not suggesting a warranty because the product you are purchasing is known to break. I am not thanking you because I think you are sexy. Everyone can now stop making these assumptions.

Also, if, at the end of a transaction, I say “Your total is $X” and you hand me a credit card, I assume you want me to charge this card for the amount of the purchase. Do not throw a fucking hissy fit and insist you had wanted to pay cash and attempt to get me fired after this happens. This has happened twice to me and five times, total, to the other three girls I am acquainted with who work the registers. We have now decided to implement our own policy of asking every customer TWICE to make sure they’re certain that this is how they want to pay. “Would you like me to put it on this card?” [Customer nods.] “So that’ll be Mastercard, then, for $X?” [Customer nods again.] [We charge.] I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before somebody STILL throws a hissy fit about it.

And finally,

TO THE MANAGERS:
I am a part-time employee. If you want me to work full time, give me full-time status so I can get the benefits, too. If you want me to work part time, then LET ME WORK PART TIME. I appreciate the fact that you give me 39 hours a week. Don’t get me wrong. The problem is that you only put 30 of them on the schedule, and I make the rest of them by being asked to stay late 3 days a week. Dammit, when I see a schedule, I expect to FOLLOW that schedule. You wouldn’t appreciate me saying “Oh, I’m not going to come in for another 3 hours, ok?” I don’t really appreciate you saying “Oh, we need you not to leave for another 3 hours, ok?” I don’t mind staying, and I don’t mind getting overtime, but dammit I want to know in advance! Is that so much to ask?
There, I’m done. Your turn!

Ahem.

Anonymous Public High School, Unappealing little town, Midwest:

To my students:
Listen, I don’t expect you to know everything. That’s fine. You aren’t supposed to know everything. But please accept the fact. Believe me when I correct the grammar in your writing.
Also, try to make the place a little more pleasant. What you do has a huge effect on what this school is like. Don’t write rude words on the building. Don’t call each other ‘fag’ or use ‘gay’ as a synonym for ‘stupid.’ Don’t smack each other while passing in the hallway.
And if you don’t refrain from stopping in the middle of a crowded hallway to chat, I will one day move you with a desk! Not a student desk, either… I will move you with MY desk, which is big and heavy and will hurt a lot when it lands.

To my colleagues:
Could we just stop gossiping about one another and complaining about one another behind each other’s backs for a little while? It makes me tired and cranky.

To my leaders:
Bite me! You think you can do this job? The goal of a high school newspaper is not to avoid all controversy or comment, so stop yelling at me every time a parent doesn’t like an editorial.

To the head of the English department:
Yes, you ARE supposed to cite EVERY SINGLE TIME you use an idea that is someone else’s. I will continue to teach that to my students. I cannot believe that you complained to me that my students are ‘documenting too much,’ and are now FAILING them for doing this! You are a BAD, BAD MAN!
And don’t blame my teaching for your failed lesson plans. If they’re not learning from you, it isn’t because I didn’t teach them anything last year, it’s because you haven’t updated your teaching style in 30 years.
Also, there is nothing wrong with your computer that couldn’t be fixed by giving it to someone who knows how to use it. Or at least how to successfully turn it on.

Employer: A County School System
Job Title: Substitute Teacher

To the regular teachers:
Please inform me of the following things before I show up:

  1. The location of your sub plans.
  2. Your room number.
  3. Your lunch period (and where the cafeteria is if you have lunch duty.)
  4. Your planning period.

Also, referring to your Bastard Class as a “challenging group” does not fool me. I have a degree in BS. I can read between the lines.

To the students:
Do your work and shut up. I know I’m at a disadvantage here since I’m not your regular teacher. Backtalk me and your ass goes straight to ISS. Play games on your calculator when you’re supposed to be working on the 25 problems due at the end of the period will result in a mention in my note to the teacher. Thinking you can trip me up by sitting in a friend’s seat will result in your being marked absent for the day. I may not be the regular teacher, but I can still fuck you up. Also, I do leave notes for your teachers. Detailed notes. The kind that mention names. If your teacher is worth his/her salt you will be fucked up twice. Once by me and once by your teacher upon his/her return. Three times if your parents are worth your salt.

We have a meeting (meeting A) coming up at work that has yet to be scheduled. It is an important meeting, and several people are involved. I was invited to meeting (meeting B) to discuss scheduling for meeting A. Which is not the way I would have done it, having a whole meeting to discuss the scheduling of another meeting, but it is very important so I figured I would be a team player and go along with the melodrama.

When I arrived at meeting B, the first order of business was to schedule a meeting (meeting C) to discuss the scheduling of meeting A. It took a moment to sink in, but I realized I was at a meeting to schedule a meeting to schedule a meeting.

I wish I were kidding.

I work at L. L. Bean.

I’m a seasonal worker, which means I’m not entitled to all of the benefits that L. L. Bean offers employees. I’m entitled to some, but not all.

Health insurance?

Nope.

Hey, that’s cool, it’s not like I spend a week a month at the doctors.

Discounts on merchandise?

Oh my, yes.:smiley:

40% on “hard items” like canoes.

33% on “soft” items like shoes/clothes.

20% on food.

Access to the employee store?

Oh my, yes.

That’s a **dangerous ** place to go.

So, I was rehired back in June as a multi-packer.

Cool, a new skill to learn.

Unfortunately, I never made it up to the production levels that were expected of me, so I was transferred to singles pack.

Where I again apparently wasn’t meeting production levels and had to sign a statement saying that I was “Slowing the team packing process down.” Which apparently goes into my file.

How nice for me.

Then I find out I was brought up to singles pack as a favor to my team leader.

As a FAVOR??!!?!

Thanks.

Make me feel about 1 1/2 feet tall.

So, for the past week and a half I’ve been in limbo, and for the last 3 days I’ve pretty much been doing nothing and I’ver been getting paid for it.

I actually can sit down and read!!!

But here’s the thing: I really don’t like having to go to my team leader and having to ask if I’m working the next day.

It’s humiliating for me, and I’m sure it’s embarassing for her.

I realize that it takes time for stuff like this to work it’s way through channels, but could we speed it up a bit.

Please?

:frowning: Sigh:frowning:

Employer: Defense Contractor
Job Title: Engineer

To coworker #1:
I know you’re a hip, swingin’ bachelor and all, but could you please tone it down a little? A staff meeting is not the place to talk about how you can “go all night”, or how you like to take girls home and make them Oodles o’ Noodles at 2 in the morning (WTF?). And when the boss announces during said staff meeting that so-and-so has a new office assistant, the proper response is (a) a polite nod, or (b) nothing, not ©"Oh yeah, she’s the one with the tight shirts and the nice butt!" Sheesh.

To coworker #2:
Could you please learn to make a relevant point? Christ, I’m afraid to talk to anyone in the office about cashflow sheets or work orders because I know you’ll pop your head out out of your cube like a damned prairie dog and give me a fifteen-minute tirade about Microsoft Office or SAP. I’m not Bill Gates, and I’m not German. I don’t have the answers you’re looking for.

To the vendor that randomly drops by the office to sell me stuff:
So you see me sitting in my plush cube, with the ringing phone and the project folders and the pile of drawings and the whiteboard with all the notes on it, and you think “Hey, he doesn’t look busy, why don’t I show him the latest Loop-Powered Transwarp Framinstam with Color LCD Display and Integrated mp3 Player?” If you come by without an appointment, there’s a pretty good chance that I’ll be doing something besides waiting breathlessly for your sales pitch. There’s a reason my business card has a phone number on it, you know.

To the network admin at the Vo-tech Center:

Yes… You have told me on many occasions that you don’t know what my job is all about and that you don’t want to know and don’t want to get involved in what I do as webmaster. Then you turn around and watch all my internet activity and impose extra strict restrictions on my Logon ID so I can’t access web-based e-mail during standard working hours. Hey, as a webmaster I do a lot of research on the web and use my hotmail account to catch all the spam I get. If I could check it a couple times a day would that be so wrong? It only keeps spam from coming in on my work e-mail account! Wake up! You can’t just impose your own twisted department policy on anyone you don’t like. What the f**k is wrong with you? Got job envy? Well, guess what… I’m moving out of your pathetic excuse for an office and won’t have to hardly deal with you any more. Enjoy your pathetic little life…jerk!

Employer : Visa/Mastercard Issuer
Title : Fraud Analyst

To the Customer Service Reps

I realize your handle time is a third of ours. That does not give you the right to drop calls into Security.

I’m sorry you don’t know how to handle the account. Try asking someone in your department what to do, instead of connecting to me and asking. We have enough calls of our own. I am not trained on your system.

To the customer :

Yes, I need the account number. I can’t determine what’s the issue without it.

No, I can’t take your account out of the security monitoring system. I can arrange that it’s monitored at a lower level, if you are nice. Calling me a cunt flips my switch from “How can I help you” to “shut up and die.”

Yes, I have to verify security information. Since we are audited and will fail the audit if I don’t, I have to verify I have the true cardholder on the line. Keep yelling if you like. No info, no answers.

If there’s fraud activity on the account, even if the system declined it, the account has to be closed. I realize you are a busy person and don’t “have time for this”. If I don’t close the account, you are saying the charges are valid and accepting liability.

Don’t try to claim you didn’t open the account when the balance gets too high. I am not a moron and will not only catch you in a lie, I will transfer you to collections with a smile.

The quickest I can get you a new card in a non emergency is forty eight hours. No, I can’t Federal Express to your PO Box since your PO Box can’t sign for the package. That is Fed Ex policy, not ours. You can call Fed Ex and bitch to them.

To my Department Head

No, I can’t do the project without time off the phone. It’s hard to do account analysis when I have five seconds between calls.

If you explain a stupid policy by starting “As a stockholder in this company”, I will beat you with a pointed stick. You are not on the executive board, you have a 401K.

To the new hire I’m mentoring

When I am on a call, don’t start calling my name, getting louder with every repeat. If you let me finish with the call, I will help you. No, I can’t put them on hold. I am not the only person who can help you.

JUST SHUT UP. If I am working on a project, I don’t have time to chitchat. Here’s some tinsel to play with, don’t eat it.

delphica: Ah, a preliminary pre-meeting to plan the agenda for the pre-meeting? Sounds like standard business practice to me. Oh, and if you see Dogbert, tell him I said hi. :smiley:

Employer: University

delphica: Ah, a preliminary pre-meeting to plan the agenda for the pre-meeting? Sounds like standard business practice to me. Oh, and if you see Dogbert, tell him I said hi. :smiley:

Employer: University
Title: Lecturer

Give us a contract already! It’s been 2 1/2 years since the last one–that’s too damn long.

Our recent strike was not all that fun, and I don’t enjoy skipping out on my students.

I don’t want more money, I just want to know if I’m going to still have a job next quarter. Getting called the day before classes begin and being told what my new classes will be is getting old.

Employer: McDonalds
Position: Assistant Manager

To The Owner: You really should come in at Some point. No, 30 minutes, once per week Does Not Count. If you want to know what goes on here, you need to be here.
Do not run off to the mall store because someone has a hangnail.
We do five times the business they.
Do not get all worked up because we cut our porple some slack. Yes she has her cell phone, and is using it on my time. I told her it was OK, besides they beat our ass like a gong earlier. I thought it was a good trade off, hard work, for phone use.

To The Customer:
Do not try to steal beverages. We fill your water glass for a reason. Yes, I can tell the difference between the sound of water being dispensed, and the sound of soda. Do not try to act innocent, or indignant. You were caught, just get out.

Do not try to scam me for food. I don’t care if you called yesterday. If your name is not in the book, you get nothing. I might let you have something small, but a super sized double quarter pounder meal, I don’t think so.
If you got the wrong food, or there was a problem with your food,you Need to bring it back. I will not give you food, or a refund based on your “Word of Honor”.
Do not tell me how much money you have. I am not swayed by the fact that you could afford to Buy the food you want for free.
To The Unwanted Visitors:
My garbage area is not a place to Eat, Have Sex, Sleep, and Especially, No Defecateing. Yes, they really do this.

We have locks on the dumpsters for a reason. We don’t want you in there. It is disgusting and unsanitary. There is a place where you can get a Free, Hot meal, right down the street. Oh, I forgot,
they won’t let you in if you’re stoned out of your mind.

Do not wipe your snot on the walls of the bathroom. Do Not defecate in the urinal. Do Not shave in my bathroom.
I Hate cleaning up after you !!!

Do not panhandle, or try to turn tricks in the drive-thru lane.
I will call the police, I will sign a complaint. I love to see people arrested.

I know I have more, but I’ve got to go to bed.

Employer: A big ole honkin’ company which I really do like. Really.
Position: Administrative Assistant

Co-workers: Please note the above title: Administrative Assistant. Loosely translated, this means that if you ask even somewhat nicely, I will go out of my way to help you. I will HELP YOU. I will not breastfeed nor wean nor pamper your moronic ass - you want a mommy, call yours.

This does NOT mean that when I am on the phone you can interrupt my call and expect me to drop everything when you decide to stroll on by and perform your “I’m as helpless as a babe in the woods can you show me where the file folders are kept, take them out of the box, make sure I have an equal number of each of the 1/3 cut tab ones, I’ve only worked here for 25 years and they may have moved since yesterday when I asked you for the exact same thing” routine.

This does not mean that I will get up from my desk where I am performing a task that my boss has asked me to do just because you don’t want to walk down the hall to use YOUR phone and instead wish to use mine to call your girlfriend/golf buddy/drinking buddy to set something up for after work because gosh darn it, that 20 second attention span of yours requires that you perform this task NOW NOW NOW because you might “forget later”.

This does not mean that I will go get your visitors from the other side of the building (a block long walk) because you were too stupid to tell your visitor which door to come to and you’re “busy” which tends to loosely translate as “I would hate to lose out on the only chocolate donut in the pile before the meeting starts and darn it, I want grape juice to go with it and there’s only one on the tray so I better guard it with my life”. Naw - you’d have to go get your guest and then go past the big room with the tables and the food service people - they spell it c-a-f-e-t-e-r-i-a - they have chocolate donuts and grape juice too! And hey - you have to walk RIGHT THROUGH IT WHEN YOU GO GET YOUR OWN DAMN GUEST.

Note where I am sitting. It has a computer. It has cabinets. It has drawers. I call it a “desk”. I work at my “desk”. This is not the place for you and Joe Shmukatelli from down the hall to lean on my counter and rehash your weekend adventures. GO AWAY.

Lastly - see this wide open place with doors on either side of it that lead to what I like to call “rooms”? IT’S A FREAKIN HALLWAY ASSMONKEY - DON’T HOLD YOUR DEPARTMENT MEETINGS IN IT - I HAVE PLACES TO GO, THINGS TO DO AND I WOULD APPRECIATE BEING ABLE TO GET TO MY DESTINATION - NOT HAVE TO WORM MY WAY PAST YOU AND YOUR IDIOT COWORKERS WHO CAN’T SEEM TO FATHOM THE CONCEPT OF “CONFERENCE ROOM - HMMM - IT HAS A TABLE, IT HAS CHAIRS, PERHAPS WE COULD UTILIZE THAT LARGE EMPTY ROOM TO HOLD OUR MEETINGS IN!!”

I feel much better now. sigh

Thanks, racinchikki - I needed this!

Employer: Online research database
Title: subscriptions administrator

I’m feeling astonishingly patient today. Let’s see how long this lasts.

To customers: This is not a psychic hotline. Please do not send me an email saying simply, “This isn’t working. Signed, [first name].” Not only do I have no idea who you are, what library you work for, what account you are referring to, or what product you are having problems with, but you haven’t even described the problem. Seriously, what do you expect from me? I hope nothing, because that’s what you get.

And would it kill you to try to figure things out on your own before sending off an angry email? If you don’t possess any common sense yourself, we have a lovely, rich, descriptive FAQ that can help you with most of your problems. If you read it, you’d learn that most things can be fixed just by refreshing your browser page. Amazing. Who would have thought, huh?

And really (no, really), I will not give you something for free just because you don’t want to pay for it. Really.

To my superiors: Why are you bothering to set deadlines/fees for services/policies for procedures, if you are not enforcing them? This is not simply a royal pain in my ass, but it’s costing us money. (We have had subscribers get years of free service because no one before my time bothered to cancel their subscription.) I hate playing the bad cop, especially when I get no backup.

Please don’t bail on me. Please don’t bail on me. Customers are waiting on me for something, and I hate disappointing them when you don’t do your job on time. If you can’t do it, please, please tell me no right away. I would really rather not have to rely on you, but seeing as you’re the only one who can do this job and you have promised me you would do it, I have no choice but to trust that you’ll come through. This constant disappoinment is getting me down, sir. Really.

To coworkers: Please, please, please do not ask me to do your work. You put me in an awkward position when you email me saying, “please email [coworker X] and tell him the cost is $100.” This boggles my mind. Are you and X not speaking, or something? Does he have your emails tagged as junk? Surely emailing me takes as much time and effort as emailing X would. WTF is going on?
No more. I’m posting this from work and I’m paranoid.

Employer: Canada Safeway
Position: Cashier/ CS Drone

To the customer: I just work here. I don’t set the prices, I don’t program the computers, it’s not my fault that we’re out of bananas today. Screaming at me won’t help, it will just get you kicked out of the store.

Whatever happened to the word “please”? customer whistles to get my attention like they are calling a dog “You. Get me a pound of butter. NOW. Make it snappy, I am in a hurry.”

Just because I’m friendly doesn’t mean I’m flirting with you. Deal with it. And if I have street clothes and a coat on, and I’m pushing a half-loaded shopping cart, it usually means I’m not working, and no, I will not open another register to get you through faster.

To the management:
Stop being obsessed with the secret shopper bullshit. Customers don’t care if you thank them by name, offer them carrout for their two bags of bread, or the other assorted crap you require us to say. I know what customers want. They want their order to be rung up correctly and quickly by a clean and friendly person, at the lowest prices possible.

I like my job, and I’m paid well. I’m punctual, and I never call in sick. Customers seek out MY line because everything is rung up right , packed well, and I’m by nature a cheerful and helpful person. People have phoned the manger personally to tell him what an asset I am to the company. But all you care about is what the mystery shop had to say.

To my coworkers: Please stop bitching about each other. I don’t take part in the back-stabbing. And if you really hate the job that much, feel free to go find a different one.

Workplace: An institute of learning. :wink:
Job: Keep students out of everyone else’s hair.

To the students: Yes, you must take these classes. That’s why they’re called REQUIREMENTS!!! Yes, you can try to convince the department to waive that requirement for you… don’t blame me if they laugh in your face though. Yes, you must take Calculus. We’re a SCIENCE major, fer cryin’ out loud! If you’re allergic to Calc, trundle your whiny self over to the Business school where you can whine about having to take accounting and economics instead. No, we won’t accept “How to use SuperMicroAppleExpressWordy5000” for this degree. Again, we’re a SCIENCE degree. No, I don’t set up appointments for you to see advisors, that is your responsibility. Don’t blame me if you can’t see them the day before classes start! Lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine.

To the faculty: Advising students won’t kill you, really. You can even do it by e-mail, or have them fill out a form and go through the pile every week. And again, lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine.

To the powers that be: Explain just how, again, I’m supposed to do my job without direct access to student records? Request a paper copy to be sent to me? Just how feasable is this, when it can take a couple of DAYS to get the ‘official unofficial’ copy? Have the secretaries access the records and print them out for me? Hello! I have evening hours after the division office has closed, they aren’t here then! (And this assumes that the secretaries have nothing better to do than to print out stuff for me.) Have the student log into their on-line version of their record? Helps a whole freakin’ lot if they aren’t a declared major or otherwise aren’t in the computer system ‘just so’ for the on-line system to work!

Gaaaaah. Can’t complain too much though, since most of the year they end up paying me to surf the 'net and do homework. :smiley:


<< What!? Me worry? – Alfred E. Newman >>

DOH! Its just a little fruit punch to go with the water!! Thats all!!

Employer: A University’s Culinary Services
Posn: Student Manager

To some employees: Do not walk right into my office eating stuff you obviously did not buy. I might not have cared when I was in your shoes, but do you honestly want to take your chances? Especially when you suck as an employee in the first place and we’d love to find a good excuse to fire you. For pete sake, you get free food with every shift anyway at another dining hall. Dont be stupid about it. I simply dont want to see it, and if I see you Im going to ask to see a receipt.

Employer: SpamSucker County Emergency Operations Center
Title: Dispatcher

To the general public: Do not call 911 and ask me what the non-emergency number is. Try 411 instead. They’ll be able to give you the number you need and you won’t be tying up an emergency line and preventing some old guy having a stroke from getting through.

Neither we nor the police have crystal balls. (We broke them all playing lacrosse with them.) Do not call and scream angrily, “Why the fuck isn’t anyone doing anything about all this crap going on down here?” Define the crap. Where is “here”? In a similar vein, we cannot make the police cars go any faster. (Our magic wands got broken in the same lacrosse game). They’re coming as fast as they can. I understand in a high stress situation a minute can seem like ten, but really, what do you think calling me back every 30 seconds and screaming at me is going to accomplish?

No, I’m not paging out our volunteer fire department and waking up 30 people because you have a cat stuck in a tree. Leave it alone. The damn thing got up there, it can get down.

I am not a law enforcement officer. I don’t know anything about restraining orders, landlord-tenant laws, criminal law, or zoning ordinances. My job is to know who can answer these questions, and to put you through to them. When I tell you I’m putting you on hold, don’t get pissy and ask me what the hell I’m good for. The answer will take a while, shitwit.

Please try to know where you are when you call us. Telling me there’s a wreck on X road doesn’t help me much. X is a big-ass road. And saying, “It’s out by where the old Simpson place was until it burned down a few years ago” doesn’t count.

To the police officers, paramedics, and firefighters: Pull the radio mike out of your ass and spit out that big honkin’ wad of chew before you key up and start talking. And don’t talk like a squirrel on speed. We keep handwritten logs, you know, and I can’t write that fast.

I could probably write more, but I’m on vacation this week and my irritation has cooled. I like my job, truly I do, but the things mentioned above happen over and over and over…

Marlitharn, I’ve just found a new snappy retort! Thanks.