Wow. How do you avoid making “whuppa whuppa whuppa” sounds around that helicopter parent? Who, by the way, is about the most unprofessional person I’ve heard about in a LONG time.
If you believe the thread about using ATMs here, I think the ATM show might be entertaining.
For the record, the show was about Parking Wars, and it was surprisingly entertaining (mostly from a schadenfreude viewpoint, watching assholes get what they deserve).
The only thing that could make this rant better is Hal Briston-style diagrams.
What’s sad is that there are people who will staple one page or cannot manage to staple multiple pages in an intelligent fashion* prompting people like your boss to have to explain stapling to everyone in case they might be as moronic as these other people.
*I work with just such people. We often have multiple pages of medical records which we staple together. We have a set order to staple them in which rarely gets followed. People often staple in the middle of the client’s name and address section then realize they forgot to staple something or fax the record and so they rip it apart tearing the name and address section making it unreadable and then put it back together using several staples to piece together the mess they made. Sometimes the staple ends up half off the pages so they are barely held together or the staple doesn’t go through all the pages and they somehow fail to notice this. And yes, I have seen someone staple one piece of paper. :smack:
It really is amazing how some people can’t handle the simplest tasks. At an old job, we had a bunch of temps (like 8, IIRC) come in to help on this massive copying & filing project. Basically, take the file (each was paperclipped together), copy one page from it (same page from every one), then put it back together & file it. Boring as hell, but easy, no?
7 of them had no issue with this. The one, well, paperclips eluded him. He could get the paper out, and copy it, but somehow managed to never actually get the file clipped back together. And I don’t mean he didn’t use the paperclip and just put stuff back loose. He clipped some stuff half-backwards, some half upside down, others the paper clip was just barely hanging on. He just couldn’t figure out how paperclip.
If you ask me for help with something at 4:45 p.m. and I immediately respond “Sure!”… DON’T FUCKING SIT THERE AND NOT TELL ME WHAT IT IS YOU ACTUALLY NEED.
I worked at one job where files kept getting added to by people stapling on and stapling on and stapling on - I used to take the files apart, staple the appropriate documents together and put the whole thing back together with a bulldog clip. The files looked AWESOME when I was done with them. I used to get 20 or more staples out of one little pile of papers - it was just nuts.
My parents are both fucking neurotic. I love them, and think they did a more or less acceptable job of raising me - they weren’t abusive and they put me through college, so I really can’t complain - but they’re fucking crazy. I’m 23. They apparently haven’t yet figured out that if I send them a long email - which I spent several hours writing - saying, “I’m thinking of making major life change X. Here is where I want to get in life, here is why I want to get there, and here is how I reasonably believe X will get me there. Here are the major pros of X, and here are the cons. I’m not asking for your permission to do X, but you are my parents and so I would like your opinion.” Some of the key benefits of X include financial independence, getting out of the shitty town I’ve stalled out in, and generally getting me on some sort of career path (rather than a stream of dead-end jobs).
Mom’s response: “I got your email but I found it emotionally upsetting so I’m not going to think about it, but I Do Not Approve”, because my mother has the emotional maturity of a golden retriever puppy.
Dad’s response: “Your sister had done seventeen related things by the time she did Y, which is tangentially related to X. Also I think you should take more classes at community college, which cost money you don’t have [and also the community college is at least an hour’s bus ride away from where you live], and also you should do Z instead. Also you should do some research on the internet about X, because I obviously am completely incapable of reading what you fucking wrote, also I Don’t Approve” because my father burned his brain out completely when he was my age, because he decided the best use of his time was to drop out of college and smoke fucktons of pot.
it is July. That means I have to do my Q2 taxes. VAT, no problem: I found the form, filled it, paid for it.
Income tax, though. When you redid the webpage to add all those texts about how wonderful our taxes are, where the fuck did you hide the income tax quarterlies for self-employed people? We’re only over 40% of the people paying direct taxes in the region, why should we be able to find our forms so we can give you money, eh? EEEEH?
I do hope you left someone in town when y’all went on vacation and that someone can answer my “help request”, cos I’m going to be mighty pissed if I’m late with my taxes because you hid the form and then went on vacation.
Not my government, but related to silenus’ last mini. Dear utility companies:
If a field in the form is compulsory, mark it. You know, you put an asterisk (they look like this: *) behind the field’s name and then at the bottom of the whole form you put a line that says:
indica un campo obligatorio
Is that so difficult that you can’t do it? And why are you making compulsory fields such as “landline” and then reject any phone number listed there which doesn’t begin by “9” (hello, like almost half the people in Spain, I do not have a landline you can call me at, plus anyway I do not want you to call me)? Why do you require a fax number? Who the fuck still uses faxes? Oh, wait, I know the answer to this one: utility companies. But you’re the only ones! Why do your CSRs go into mode when they try to get me to fax some documents over and I ask for an email address instead?
The small company I worked for decided to hire this new CFO out of the blue - basically pissing all over my boss, the controller, who had been keeping them afloat for the past 10 years, and had been acting CFO.
So the new CFO comes up to me on the first day and asks for some staples. I show him where the supply closet is and give him a box of staples. He then explains to me that he needs staples that are sharp - chisel-point staples. Because he does a lot of stapling and he needs to make sure the staples go through on the first try.
He then takes out a strip of staples, breaks one off, and holds it up to the light. Then he lays it on my counter and bends down to eye it at level. Then he pokes his finger with the staple and decides it’s not chisel pointed enough . . . .
I get to the building door just after [co-worker], who has the unfortunate habit of marinating in her own perfume. So I get to walk in her scent trail the entire way up, three flights of stairs and a maze of hallways, watching her stupid little ankles wobbling like a newborn wet baby fawn at every step in her overdone stilettos. Girl, we do not have that fancy of a dress code here. I’m in heels, too, a good two inches thankyouverymuch, but you don’t see my ankles wobbling, do ya? NO, because I’m not wearing hooker stilletos to an office job!
She has something in her hands, a plastic food container of some sort, but I’m too polite to do the “watcha go there?” routine, since I don’t know if it’s for sharing or hers alone for lunch. I don’t like when people nose into my food; I try not to nose into other people’s food. We get to the office, she practically throws the container down on our break room table, and says (and I quote!): “Here. It’s some angle food cake. I don’t know if it’s any good or not.”
Not a rant, but just an amusing related story. Years back at a previous company, they hired a new CFO too. The assistant to the previous CFO was a very nice, but pretty flaky young woman. She was nervous about the new guy liking her and afraid he’d want to bring in his own person. On his very first day, I was in his office setting up his PC, and as he was walking in, the pocket of his pants got snagged on the strike plate of the door knob and tore. He was visibly PO’d (and probably embarrassed.) Well, the assistant, in an effort to help and ingratiate herself, ran in with her stapler at the ready (flipped open to staple on a flat surface…) The look he gave her was priceless. She didn’t last much longer.
I’m told that a lawyer once said, “Your honour, my colleague’s ignorance of the law surprises me.”
The affronted judge said, “Come, come, surely you can rephrase that.”
“Very well,” the lawyer said, “my colleague’s ignorance of the law doesn’t surprise me.”
Christ, not even back in the day could you just require someone’s fax number, as if they definitely have one.
I once had the inside hem of my skirt come loose right before an interview. Thinking quickly, I stapled it. What I didnt’ think about was which way the staples went - and sometime during the tour of the plant one of the staples caught the leg of my pantyhose. I spent the rest of the tour trying to detach it when he wasn’t looking, or trying to walk with a confident stride without revealing that my leg was attached to the front of my skirt . . . .
The dink who stands over my shoulder all the time is a different dink from the one who requested my assistance at quarter-to-time-to-leave.
So, stripping, huh?
P.S. That was only one rant. I want my money back.
Except that all too often, it’s, “They stayed with the company for years, being promoted repeatedly, while anyone competent who made them look bad by comparison was fired.”
Do you give discounts for referrals? I’m trying to figure out what to get my boyfriend for his birthday.
By my forum clock (CDT, which I would assume counts as Official Forum Time for a board for a column based out of Chicago), your post was made “Today, 12:24 AM.” So I was assuming it was a lead-in to two rants today, as opposed to the second of two rants yesterday. If that makes any sense.
I love working with you ladies - you’re the only voice of sanity in this otherwise whacked-out department. But, goddammit, DO NOT ask for my assistance in making our product marketing more interesting, only to revert to the same boring old shit we’ve been regurgitating for the last two years. Honestly, these pieces sound the damn government wrote them again.
No, we do NOT need to describe government entitlement programs like Medicare in detail every fucking time we write a piece, down to the various phases of drug coverage. Medicare and every damn plan that markets to our target audience does that. And why you feel it necessary to ask, “Well, we do help people with government programs, but do we really help ensure people understand government resources? I mean, not everyone who talks to us will get it.” No, we can’t 100% say, “Everyone who talks to us understand government programs as a result of talking to us.” But we can say that we make every effort to ensure that’s true. What, you want me to have our customers take a test on government entitlement programs before you get off the phone with them to make sure we can say that?? Jesus Christ on a cracker, this is way too much. It’s marketing, dammit. You can market if the people you’re marketing to are asleep. Fuck.
mode when they try to get me to fax some documents over and I ask for an email address instead?