I need something insignificant to rant about as I genuinely like my job and my co-workers, but my personal life’s been stressful.
So, I’ll take it out anonymously on my workplace .
If you tell me two weeks ago that you’ve decided not to do a certain program, so we won’t need to get items together for a mailing, that’s fine. But if you come to me THIS week and tell me you’ve changed your mind when I’m right in the middle of preparation for TWO large events, don’t get pissy when I tell you that I just don’t have TIME right now, but I will be able to help you in a day or two. I am not being rude, I am not being uncooperative, I am TRYING to get these things done without getting extremely behind. I will be glad to help you get the packets out as soon as I’ve finished these two projects.
Hey, boss - you’re probably my favorite boss that I’ve ever worked for, but please stop calling me every two minutes with another request, especially when you want this stuff out in the next two days. Go on vacation and enjoy yourself.
Dear people who call the office:
I know we’re incredibly technologically behind here, but if we had voice mail, I would have offered “Would you like to leave a voice mail?” instead of “Can I take a message?”. The two sentences mean something entirely different, and as much as I would LOVE to transfer you to their voice mail and not litter my desk with tons of pink message scraps, I have no capability to do so. We will be getting voice mail in another month or so, so please stop asking me if you can leave a voice mail until then. (And if you work for the company, I’ll excuse it, since some of our offices in the region are already set up for voice mail and some aren’t.)
Co-worker…if I leave early one day like I did on Friday (and not just a half hour or so, but 4 1/2 hours, like on Friday), would it kill you to put the UPS package together? If everyone’s time sheets are late, I’m not taking the blame for it.
Hey, co-worker, I’m sorry you’re on a diet but everyone else seems happy about the doughnuts I brought in on my own dime. So sorry to put the temptation in your path.
Mentally Handicapped lighting/signage contractors. Last friday I told them I would be taking a half day and to make sure they have everything they need because I would not be onsite. I had to get home to run errands and get ready for a weekend trip. Sure as shit, 30 mins after I get home they call. They can’t figure out how to lock the door to electric riser room. All you have to do is flip the dead bolt switch and pull the door closed until you hear it catch. I tell them I am 30 minutes away and was not going to come back out just for a lock. Dick around with for another 15 minutes and call me back. They call back, they still can’t get it. So I stop what I am doing and start driving back out there. Ten minutes into the drive they call me, they figured it out. Didn’t even say anything, I just hung up the phone and turned around. :mad:
LOL… I think I’ll do a collection from various jobs I’ve had over the years:
To bank customer: I’m sorry, I don’t know what your balance will be after all of your checks have cleared.
(Well why not?)
I apologize, but on account that I am not omniscient, have no psychic capabilities, and my X-ray vision is broken, I do not have the capability to KNOW what checks YOU have written in the past day or so. As you may have noticed I did not accompany you to the mall or grocery store recently. If you tell me what checks you have written I will be happy to subtract those amounts from your current balance… SINCE YOU ARE TOO DAMN LAZY AND/OR STUPID TO KNOW HOW TO DO IT ON YOUR OWN!!!
To diner customer, at 4am: I don’t know if the eggs are good, I haven’t tried them.
(The EGGS are bad?? How do you screw up EGGS??? I’m not eating here…)
Sir, I didn’t say that the eggs are bad, I just said I haven’t tried them. I personally don’t care for eggs.
(You don’t like EGGS?? What’s wrong with you? That’s un-American! Are they past the expiration date? Are they those awful POWDERED eggs?? BOB!!- we can’t eat here, their eggs are rotten!)
THE EGGS ARE FINE!!!
To fellow postal employee, also at 4am: No, I will not go out with you.
(Why?)
Don’t wanna.
(Aw come on. I know I’m 20 years older than you and can’t spell more than my own name but I’ll treat you gooood.)
Get away from me.
(Aw, what’s the matter, ain’t you ever gone out with a real man?)
I wasn’t aware that real men are ones who smell like hamburger grease and used gym socks.
(Well, I’m off tomorrow if you want to grab a bite…)
I think I won’t be hungry tomorrow. At all. The whole night. Or any night after that… I know why they call the crazy ones “postal” now…
To parent of fifteen year old child: Yes ma’am I know your child is smart. He shows it every day.
(Well why he have an F?)
Well ma’am as you might have noticed your child does no schoolwork. He should be working on homework everynight, but he never turns anything in.
(But he smart.)
I apologize ma’am but it would be unfair of me to grant him a better grade based on that fact alone. He must also be willing to work hard.
(Well what does he need to do to pass?)
Ma’am I am very sorry but the F he has maintained throughout the year, as noted on the numerous report cards and progress reports we have sent you, will only be raised to a 32.6 per cent if he were to earn a 100 per cent during the final month of school.
(Well, that’s enough to pass…)
NO!! IT ISN’T!! GET YOUR DARLING LITTLE LAZY-ASS ANGEL OUT FROM IN FRONT OF THE X-BOX AND MAKE HIM DO HIS HOMEWORK BEFORE IT GETS TO BE 3 WEEKS UNTIL SCHOOL ENDS AND MAYBE HE’LL HAVE A CHANCE NEXT YEAR!!
It is not that difficult to change the water bottle on the water cooler.
Really, it’s not.
Even I can do it, and I’m a girl too. Plus I’m wearing 3" heels.
Of course, I’m not a manager, so maybe that’s why I can do it and you can’t.
Have you even TRIED to change the bottle on the water cooler? I don’t think you have. If you have, you would realize that it’s really not that difficult. There’s a big handle on the side, I bet you could lift it up with one arm. In fact I think someone spent a lot of time and money to figure out how they could design it so that it would be easy for weak and helpless women like us, clad in office gear, to be able to replace it.
'Course, it won’t work at all if you’ve decided it’s impossible without even trying.
I bet you also didn’t know that if you completely drain the bottle, then when I come and change it (with my super-human powers that a mortal like yourself could not possibly summon), I have to stand there and wait for the reservoir to refill before I can get MY drink of water, and it will be warm once I do. If you had changed it before you had gotten your drink of water, I wouldn’t have been inconvenienced at all. But since you are an idiot, I was.
Minor rant indeed, but I have started counting: I’ve changed the last four out of six water bottles. There are 40 people in this office.
Dear Supervisor: We have a deal here: Either I go to lunch at 1:00 and you have someone cover for me, or you bring me food on your dime. You do not call me at 1:10, ask me if I’ve gone to lunch, then ask me to take care of your customer who is on her way here. Yes, I stayed and took care of her, but then you don’t complain when I tell you I didn’t get lunch.
And I know your life is very very busy, but you could bring my food in instead of making me walk to your car to get it.
Gee, ladies, I am SURE you were in the Homebuilder’s Association office when I came straight from the Home Show with your cash box that you absolutely had to have me return immediately after the show closed on Sunday – but why, then, did you lock the office front door, and not appear to be ANYWHERE when I banged and pulled and pounded for someone’s attention?? And THEN why, once I got to my house with the cash box that I did not want to have to babysit overnight but had resigned myself to doing, did you wait 2 HOURS to notice that you didn’t have it yet and call me, when I was already in my jama-pants and t-shirt, insisting that the world would end if you didn’t get the cash box tonight and I had to get dressed and run my butt back down to the HBA office with your box? And further, why, after I complied, albeit reluctantly, with your commands, did you insist that I was LYING about having stopped by right after 5 PM, saying that “our office has been opened since 4, you must have gone to the wrong building, or possibly not really have come at all?”
You deserved to hear me muttering “absolute fucking morons” under my breath as I slammed your door shut, and to have to chase me down in the parking lot to apologize, cuz maybe there HAD been a mistake and maybe you DID have to “temporarily” lock the building up to reset the alarm system at about 5:15 PM, so I just MIGHT have been right after all, you suddenly remembered…and you deserved to hear me then tell you to get the fuck off my back about the whole thing!
I’m just the bookkeeper at this here construction company…why do I have to “doll up” and be a Walmart Greeter at these home shows, and have to answer to the incompetant Homebuilder’s Association for two weekends in a row every April/May? And ladies of HBA, that was only my 7th day of straight work—imagine how I will be after the show closes this upcoming Sunday, Day #14, two full working days after that nasty 12-hour shift I have to pull for you gals on Friday. Better let someone else be responsible for the cash. I would, if I were you.
Your taxes pay my salary? No kidding? Mine too. So do my boss’s. What was your point again?
To certain parents of certain juvenile delinquents who run away every single freaking weekend: Chain that kid to a tree or something. Please. It’s pretty bad when we have a blank missing juvenile form in our file that’s already filled out on your kid, and all we have to do is change the “date missing” field.
To my co-workers: Come to work. Radical concept, I know, but other workplaces tend to fire people that can only show up 3 days out of every 6.
To the prissy little judgemental ignorant bitches in my office:
The prisoners that come in early on Thursday mornings to the endodontist’s office down the hall are NOT scary. You are not putting your life in danger by walking past the window where they can see you. You are not so fucking irresistible that they are going to break out of their shackles and escape their guards just to get to you. Get over yourself. No, they are NOT animals, they are human beings who have made mistakes, just like yourself. I don’t care what they have done in their lives, they do deserve medical treatment and to not be in extreme pain. We do not condone the torture of prisoners in this country, whether you agree with that or not. Write your congressman if you’d like to change that. Yes, they wear orange jumpsuits. That is not a good reason to get that “Oh I’m so scared!” look on your face and hug the wall as you walk past the office that they are sitting in, with the door closed.
Stupid fucking bitches- I hope that you are never in a place in your life where you are deserving of compassion and kind treatment, because I won’t be giving you any.
Dear Spineless:
The next time you feel that our discussing our work in the only available workspace is “too loud” do not say that we’re not too loud when we ask you if we are in fact disturbing you, then go to our supervisor to complain. This gets us scolded like we’re naughty eight-year-olds, and does not endear you to us. Your brilliant plan to not say anything directly to us like an adult does didn’t work well because the only other two people in the room were entertained by what we were working on, so yeah, we know who said something.
Dear Senior Engineer:
No, I won’t stay late to push a release through. Especially not on Friday with 5 minutes of clock time left. No, not even if you buy me a Pepsi for my troubles :rolleyes: You may work 80 hours a week, but I sure as hell do not.
You don’t have a clue what is going on in the office. Do not try to “manage” anything remotely. In the 9 months you’ve “owned” this company, you have probably spent, total time, 4 hours in the office, and most of that time was spent talking to the sales staff. You have no clue that I answer the phones 60 -80 percent of the time, write and edit all the content, lay out pages, take classifieds on the phone and change the cartridges in the fax machines, printers, copy machines, and every other freakin’ machine in the joint. Telling the office manager I can do all this in 40 hours a week is nuts. You do not communicate, nor do you listen.
Manager,
I like you. I really like you. But you spend more time bitching about all the work you have to do than actually doing any of it. All that is asked of you is to create ads and get proof copies back to the client, and lay out pages. (See my work load above in comparison.) I can’t figure out why you are here until midnight working on the paper. Oh, except for the two hour lunch/shopping excursion, every day. The personal phone calls that you discretely take in the bathroom. And stop talking. You’re driving me nuts.
Everyone else,
Stop staring daggers at me when I forget to put your precious client’s stupid “press release” in the paper. They didn’t find a cure for cancer. They hosted a “senior brunch” to sell old people spaces in their homes. And accompanied the “release” with bad, blurry photos. Oops, I forgot – or didn’t have space. You know, NEWSpaper?
I also hope my co-worker gets better. She has scarlet fever and came to work. I pray to all that is sacred it isn’t wildly contagious or this place is GOIN’ DOWN!
I’m ranting here for Mr. SCL, because the nursing agency he works for it staffed by a bunch of idiots.
If you buy a lift van for this quadripligic patient, you will have to have two staff members on duty whenever it is in use. One nurse cannot drive and provide nursing services to the patient at the same time. On a recent trip to the hospital (about two hours from here) the patient needed suction every fifteen minutes. Get the picture?
Certain supplies will be needed every month. The nurses go through about the same number of gloves every month. Just order them. Don’t make a huge production number out of it. And when the nurse on duty the day the order was supposed to be called in to you doesn’t do it because she can’t stand dealing with your stupid asses, don’t yell at my husband about it. He calls it in when he is there and it is time to do it. He is not responsible for someone else not doing their job.
Speaking of supplies, when is my husband going to be reimbursed for the Ensure and gloves he bought with his own money because no one had called in an order? He’d only been working there for two days at that point, so it couldn’t have been his fault the order hadn’t been called in. Just fork over the cash.
Please cop up to the fact that we are woefully understaffed to handle queue volumes on the weekends. At nine am on Sunday, we should not only have four people in the queue when there’s fifteen customers waiting. Either pony up more employees, or stop allowing every fucker to go on leave on the same day.
Dear overseas reps:
Yes, we understand customers get shouty sometimes. They can be mean, and it’s often hard to placate them when your accent’s so thick you can barely get a legible sentence out. But if one of the reps in Australia has done something on a customer’s account, for a very good reason (for example, declining to reconnect the account of a customer who’s defaulted on nine of the last twelve monthly payments until they provide an alternate payment method) DO NOT THEN APOLOGISE AND GIVE THE CUSTOMER NEARLY $100 CREDIT TO GET THEIR ACCOUNT RECONNECTED FIVE MINUTES AFTER THEY SPOKE TO US!! You are not in the retention department. We left notes explaining why we made the decision that we did, and what the customer needs to do to rectify it. If the customer is unhappy with the decision we made, then forward them to the cancellations department, who will try to retain the customer WITHIN OUR BUSINESS GUIDELINES. All you’re doing is teaching the customers to keep calling back until they get someone who doesn’t speak english, and then to yell until they get what they want.
Thanks a lot, fuckos.
Dear reps in the Sydney Office:
Guess what dumbasses. When there’s only two of you on the roster with the name of “Chris”, and a customer says they’ve spoken to someone called “Chris” who gave them information, but didn’t leave a note in the network saying what they did or why they did it, you are going to get busted, even though you were so very careful not to go into any systems that footprint your IP. I know where your roster is kept, I know how to look you up and I certainly know how to report your lazy fucking ass to the managers, both second level and centre level.
Also - if you’re on the graveyard shift, we in Adelaide can tell when you all log out of the phones and piss off for a smoke or a wank or whatever. You know why? Because at two in the morning, when there’s no faults on the network, we should not have six DSL customers queuing up behind the two dial customers who we’re dealing with at the time. Your buddies upstairs from the cable internet dept were only too happy to go downstairs for us and see where you were - which wasn’t at your desks. I hope you got reamed for that, assholes.
Is it too much to ask that you actually write down a schedule for your employees? And then actually follow it? A couple of the reasons I work part-time is because I finally Got A Life, and have family here that need me. Don’t tell me on Friday at quitting time that I am on 9am to 1pm the next week, and then change the only fucking day that I made plans for to 1pm to 5pm. It’s not like I’m spending the day at the Spa getting a massage. I am taking my 80-year-old mother to the grocery store while my husband stays with my 86-year-old dad. Just to give my sister a break, because she is the one who normally does this. And my husband only gets Thursdays off during the week. He has a Dr. appointment that morning, and can’t babysit Pawpaw then. I am not on call for every hour the store is open, you useless fuckwad.
Please don’t blame me when you lock your keys in the medroom. By law I can’t even touch those keys.
Don’t get mad because you go sleep in an empty bed and get mad at me when I don’t wake you up before you were caught by another nurse. I was taking care of a resident, remember those?
Don’t lie to a family member after I have already talked to them to cover your own ass. That makes me look stupid. Don’t lie to a family member at all for that matter, do your job bitch.
Don’t eat my food without asking me, all my food.
Don’t ask me for another smoke, you make more money than me!
Please go check on a resident when I tell about something, and don’t ask me what to do. You are the nurse not me.
Stop complaing becuase your husband hates you, I hate you too.
To the parents of my students:
I sent home a field trip permission slip two weeks ago. It had all the information on it. Read it and then staple it to your hand, moron. Stop asking me what time your Precious Snuggums needs to be at school for the trip. And where Precious Snuggums needs to be dropped off and picked up. And if they need their tote bags. It was on the permission slip!
“Oh, I didn’t read that.”
You signed it, but didn’t read it. Oh, goody.
Stop complaining to me about there being no seat belts on the school bus. I have no control over that.
“Well, this runs counter to all we’ve taught Junior about safety. He’s never been in the car without being in his car seat.” Not my problem, lady.
The school buses are relatively safe. Thye have high padded seats. Can you imagine one bus driver having to buckle in 60 little kids? Or trying to unbuckle those same 60 kids in an emergency? A long strap with a metal buckle on the end is a weapon in the hands of an older kid.
“What if a car hits us? Poor Junior would be thrown to the floor!”
It’s called physics, moron. This is a big bus. If a Honda hits us, we probably wouldn’t even notice. Again, the busses are not my problem. Write to your congressperson.
To the person who keeps stealing my chair: STOP IT! I know my workstation is the first one on the row, thus making it the most convenient, and the ratio of chairs to workstations is slightly less than 1:1, but take a look around and you will see that at some workstations nobody is assigned to them, and they have chairs in them that nobody sits in. Every damn time I come in to work I have to go hunt down a chair since I don’t want to stand for the next eight hours (I did enough of that in retail and fast food, thank you). Since I like my chair adjusted a certain way, I have to set the height and the arm rests to my liking each time your chair theft forces me to go out and hijack one of my own. Since I have to be logged on at precisely the right time each day, I have to come in early just so I have extra time to locate a chair first. I’ve seriously thought about bringing in a chain and padlock to secure my damn chair.
I understand you are frustrated about not being able to level-up in a timely manner. Might this humble teacher suggest the simple step of DOING YOUR HOMEWORK before you ask your lovely mothers to call and complain about how their darling prodigies are being “kept back” by our supposed incompetence. Thank you.
Our hallways are currently filled with half built cubes and parts of cubes and boxes and chairs and desks and lamps for all the people that are currently being relocated to this area.
You are standing in the middle of said hall, blocking not only the entrance to my room, but the entrance to the bathrooms, and the stairwell to go downstairs.
You and the idiots you’re talking to aren’t even talking business - you’re talking about bullshit. The kid of stuff you talk about in the cafeteria or in your office or in the courtyard while you smoke. Not important stuff that would warrant stopping moving forward spontaneously so you all can have a real important discussion RIGHT NOW!
MOVE THE HELL OUT OF THE HALL AND HAVE YOUR “MEETING” SOMEWHERE ELSE!
.