Tales From the Cube Farm

"Dude, I really don't know"

2007-11-15T15:09:00.000-05:00

At BigHugeCo, I install software. A lot of it. But I don't use it. I'll go as far as to say Dreamweaver and Office are the only two apps I know well enough to troubleshoot. So when someone calls and asks me "What does it mean when I can't see my database in Microsoft ResourceHog 2007?"

"It means," I say, "you need to enter your settings, which I don't have because we don't support the app. The database admins do."

"So you'll help me?"

"I'm not a database admin. I'm a desktop technician."

"But you build web pages."

"Those are not databases, and I don't do that for BigHugeCo."

"So how do I fix this?"

"I don't know. Ask the database admins."

"Well, could you fix this for me?"

"Hold, please." Mute phone. Bang head against desk. Go to Starbucks on the lobby level. Return. He's still holding.

Just Say No To Crack... Berry

2007-09-28T14:03:00.000-04:00

I get maybe three calls a month on my corporate cell phone. In fact, I don't even take it home with me. As far as I'm concerned, the little electronic leash is an intrusion on my time.
Well, now BigHugeCo has decreed that all IT personnel will carry Blackberries.

Actually, all IT personnel will receive Blackberries. I suspect I'm going back to carrying only one cell phone, the little LG phone I got when I switched to ATT ('cuz Verizon was a bit pricey at the time.)

I'm not sure why BigHugeCo wants me to carry one of these pieces of shit. They don't pay me enough for 24/7 access. And there's nothing people can call me for on the weekend that I help with unless I'm in the office.

"But, Jim, don't y0u want to be fully connected?"

Not really. There's a reason I enjoy vacationing in West Virginia and Southeast Ohio. No cell phone or Internet access!

I'm sorry, but there really is nothing that important that anyone needs to get a hold of me that fast. Publishing? If Svetlana got an offer today for Road Rules, I most likely would not know about it until Monday. It would take me a few days to ponder whether I want to accept it or not. And that assumes Svetlana and her partner aren't holding back a few days to mull it over themselves. (15% of this hypothetical offer would be theirs. 15% of a turkey is still a turkey.) Then we'd have to negotiate, which would take weeks. All in all, nothing warranting an emergency call.

Family? My brother and in-laws know where to find me. Beyond that, you don't need to know.

"But, Jim, how can your employer reach you on vacation?"

Why would I want them to do that? I'm on vacation.

Someday soon, I will be completely freelance. Writing, web design, other nefarious misdeeds people will pay me for.

Then BigHugeCo can have back their overpriced, underused Crackberry.
Assuming I haven't sold it on eBay.

Cube farm hijinks from Seamonkey of SeamonkeyMusic.com

2007-07-21T21:41:00.000-04:00

This came to my e-mail recently and was just too appropriate to not post.

"Oh, here's some sh!t. I got fired today because, "I shouldn't have hired someone with the high level of experience you have for this job." WTF??

Ok, so this b!tch contacts ME and takes me OUT of the steady job I ALREADY HAD and puts me in a more remedial position for my line of work (residential title insurance) for less pay, but it was MUCH closer to home and right by my kid's schools. I was cutting 60 miles round-trip off per day. But at least I HAD a job and now... NOTHING. Fu*king b!tch."

2nd Annual "My Bad Boss" Contest

2007-07-17T12:19:00.000-04:00

WorkingAmerica.org is doing it again. If you think you've got a story, then get in on it!

Put The Coffee Cup Down And Step Away From The Pot

2007-07-16T11:30:00.000-04:00

I've been a corporate drone at the same corporate hive for about 8 years now. My last job was a stint at a retail big box hell I'll call "The Computer Stuporstore," where America used to get its computer equipment before Michael Dell and Steve Jobs mercifully cut out the middle man.

My job was as a PC technician, one of the guys in the back room working on whatever clusterfuck someone brought into the store. Well, that was my job description. My actual job was, from 5 to close, was to work the counter.

The Computer Stuporstore had a few bizarre policies. Everyone was reviewed on income generated, but technicians were not allowed to make sales. Naturally, we were always evaluated as "Losers." My personal favorite was "Overtime is not permitted and not tolerated at The Computer Stuporstore." Yes, we were written up for clocking out one minute late. I finally took to telling the operations manager to learn how to make adjustments since I'm too busy doing, yanno, work to be arsed with worrying about the clock. (Or "Poor planning on your part does not constitute failure on my part.")

The absolute worst policy concerned coffee. Someone at corporate decided that, if one drank coffee in the late afternoon, they were not rested enough. If they were not rested enough, they were not giving The Computer Stuporstore their all. And if one is not giving the Computer Stuporstore their all, management should intervene and give counseling.

Never mind we all drank Coke after noon, which not only contains caffiene but sugar as well. And the professional geeks in the back room? Half of us were Mountain Dew addicts and future type II diabetics.

In December of 1999, I got an offer to join BigHugeCo in a job that 1.) was accessible by bus and 2.) wouldn't insult my intelligence. The offer increased my salary by 33%. "Let me think about that. Yes." So I turned in my three-week notice at The Computer Stuporstore and embarked on a month long campaign to get myself fired.

I cussed out the general manager in front of a customer for telling her that I would work overtime off the clock. I punched in early and went to breakfast. I let the phone ring evenings while I spent half an hour in the break room watching Jeopardy. Did this get anyone's attention?

No. What did?

One afternoon, the new Starbucks opened in the strip mall next door. I walked over on a break and got myself a cup. This got the general manager's attention, who brought it to the operations manager's attention. The OM, his name was Roger, hauled me into his office for "counseling."

"Were you aware of the rule about coffee during afternoon hours?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Are you aware I turned in my notice and that I will be leaving your fine establishment for one that, unlike this one, pays more than people on food stamps get?"

"Nonetheless, for the next sixteen days, you are an employee of The Computer Stuporstore, and therefore, I have to ask you about your coffee."

"Okay, it's called Sumatra blend. It will knock you on your ass. For the largest size, it's $1.50." (This was 1998.) "If you like, I'll buy you a cup."

"J, understand that when we see you drinking coffee, we have to wonder why you're not getting enough rest."

"I'm not getting enough rest because I work two jobs. And no, you have no say in that situation. Unless you want to pay me more."

"I understand. But I still have to write you up and take a statement."

"Okay, here's my statement. 'I'm sorry you losers don't understand that sometimes people drink coffee because they like it. I'm sorry some moron in corporate has nothing better to do with his time than make up silly rules to make this place an even bigger hell than it already is. I'm sorry I still have to work here until New Year's Day.' Did you get all that?"

"You could quit now."

"You could fire me now."

Roger smiled. Roger actually got it long ago. He was biding his time until he either replaced the GM or he moved on to someplace better. Like everyone else who quit this place in the seven months I'd worked there. "Get back to work."

"You're not going to fire me?"

"For drinking coffee? Where do you think I work? Corporate?"

They never did fire me. Though the GM did avoid me after I cussed him out in front of a customer.

The PHB Is Real

2007-07-13T00:03:00.000-04:00

About a year and a half ago, BigHugeCo got a new CIO (Chief Information Officer or Career Is Over. You make the call.) The new CIO was a straight-shooting guy from India with a sense of humor. His underling, the Vice President of Infrastructure (or "Infantile" as we liked to call him) wanted the job.

Infantile was a poster child for bad management. His conversations were designed to hunt for flaws in the other person so he could cut them down "like a good manager." His all-hands meetings rewarded all the ass-kissers who'd worked for him since he was just a team lead. He openly trashed managers at the business units for being more concerned with doing business than [*gasp!*] following his IT edicts (many of which were overridden as part of the previous CIO's Monday morning routine. Coffee, read Wall Street Journal, invalidate all or most of Infantile's new policies.) Infantile had managed to become one of the few managers at his level where people questioned his parentage within earshot. And why not? He wasn't allowed to fire people, only humiliate them. And humiliation doesn't hurt your mortgage payment the way termination does.

When he didn't get the CIO's job after his previous boss left, Infantile decided the best way to look managerial in front of his new boss was to take him around and introduce him to the peasants. Where I work, we sat with the Help Desk at the time. It was a quiet afternoon, and one of the techs had us riveted with a tale of Duke Energy using his payment to pay someone else's electric bill. How did the new boss react?

"That's good, can you pay mine?"

Well, Infantile was having none of that. We just got friendly with his boss before he had a chance to poison the well. What a horrible crime. Infantile looks around and notices no one's on the phone. Well, it's a Help Desk, isn't it? Aren't these people supposed to be on the phone?

"Why aren't these phones ringing," he said. "Come on. Let's get back to work."

Silence. Staring. Roomful of jaws hanging open.

Finally, Rafferty, the one who had his light bill payments funneled to the wrong account, spoke up. "Um... People have to break something before we can fix it, you know. And they're just not breaking stuff today."

CIO cringed. So did we.

Infantile was fired two weeks later, replaced by an unabashed Office Space fan who let me keep my stapler.

We had a party.

Jesus Saves. Because He Knows What The Fucking File Menu Is For.

2007-07-10T23:33:00.000-04:00

[Reposted from Northcoast Exile, October, 2006]

Another week, another clueless moron at BigHugeCo who should not be let near a computer. Let's call her Jane, shall we?

For two weeks straight, Jane has complained that she worked and slaved over a masterpiece in Microsoft Word for three whole hours only to lose her masterpiece when Word froze up.

Why, oh, why, she moans, must she suffer at the hands of us unsympathetic technicians?

Because, Jane, you are too stupid to live. Let me clue you in on the novelist's secret weapon.

See, Janey, I write books (and allegedly published one of them.) And they take a helluva lot longer than three hours to write. And Word has frozen up on me. Windows has crashed. Power outages have occured. Do I lose anything when this happens?

Why, no, Jane, I don't. You know why?

Because I know what the fuck the Save button is for!!!

Yes, Jane, I realize I never went to law school as you did. In fact, I never finished college. And yet I know how to click File>Save As. It's one of the first things we all learn when using a computer. It's the very first thing I do in any word processing program when I start a new project. After that, I hit the Save button after every paragraph, if not more often. Why? So I don't slave for three hours and lose shit to a computer glitch. Oooh! What a concept!

And yanno what? They have a similar handy function on Macs! That's right, Janey. You're supposed to do this on good ol' simple, only a brain-damaged-chimpanzee-can-break-it Macs.

So what's your excuse?

Please ship your laptop back to BigHugeCo corporate immediately. Your new Etch-A-Sketch will be configured and shipped to you as a replacement.

I swear to God some people need to audition to be Steve Irwin's replacement.

With live crocs.

The Evil J Winter

Best. Scamback. Ever.

2007-03-22T11:02:00.001-04:00

This isn't the usual type of post for this blog, but it's too funny to just let pass. I highly recommend reading and listening to the call. It's a new twist on scamming back the Nigerian 419 scammers. It may be even better than EbolaMonkeyMan.

read more | digg story

There are not words...

2007-01-15T14:04:00.001-05:00

My Bad Boss

2006-08-09T20:59:00.000-04:00

Voting is wrapping up over at WorkingAmerica.org where they're holding the My Bad Boss competition. As part of the wrap-up promo for that, they're showing off this bit Al Franken did for them. It's worth a look and a chuckle: http://www.workingamerica.org/badboss/franken.cfm

Actually, his satire sounds so much like my ex-boss, the accuracy is scary.

Seriously, time to grow up

2006-08-06T01:13:00.000-04:00

Okay. I know we're all in a mode to save as much money as we can because the powers that be are working so hard to hoard it all for their friends, but come on people, let's maintain or civility.

I work for a place that sells high-end men's fashion. Our leading demographic consists of males with a salary in the $200k range or better. Yet, somehow these guys manage to act with less common courtesy than the average Wal-Mart patron, and I know this because it's MY demographic.

At least twice a week we get an e-mail that goes something like this:

"A month ago, I made a purchase from you that was well over $200. Then, much to my dismay, I received an e-mail from you yesterday that's offering free shipping on any order over $100. I am completely appalled at your behavior! I demand that you refund my $12.50 immediately or I will never do business with you again and will tell all my colleagues how you rape your customers as common practice."

See, this is why I'm not in customer service. If I was, my answer would go something like this:

"Dear Sir: We sincerely apologize for the anguish we have caused you and the economic hardship we have placed on your family by charging shipping to someone who is only in the top 10% of the incomes of all Americans. Surely, only someone in the top 2% can afford such an extravagant shipping cost, and even though none of that $12.50 comes to us, we will swallow it and cast aside thoughts of earning a profit on this sale. Please know that we are working to correct this error. In the future, we will have no sales at all because we want to be fair to all of our customers all the time. Thank you for bringing this error to our attention. We thank you, and all of the rest of our customers would surely than you as well. We will send them all your e-mail address so they can do so."

I mean, come on! Your order was a month ago! And it's not even like I wouldn't give you the money back, I'm all about giving good customer service. But you had to go on and be an ass about it, which instead puts me in a mood to post your credit card info on some identity thieves' message board. OF COURSE, I WOULD NEVER DO SUCH A THING, NOR DO I HAVE ACCESS TO YOUR INFORMATION IN THE FIRST PLACE, but the point remains. Completely without thought, you send your rant out to be read by the lowest folks on the totem pole, who have no idea who you are and couldn't care less. They want to help you despite the fact that you wouldn't give them a dollar to buy bread if they were three minutes from death.

Don't threaten. Don't become the lowest common denominator. If you really think you're worth the money you make, then act like a civilized being. You'll be surprised how many more doors open for you. Save your idle threats and bravado for the president of the company if it really comes to that. He's the only one who has a chance at knowing who you are or why it should even vaguely matter.

Work parody song

2006-06-14T22:03:00.000-04:00

"My Cubicle" - a parody of "You're Beautiful" found and hosted by PrestonandSteve.com - the Web site for the best morning show on Philly rado.

And the exodus continues

2006-06-05T22:58:00.000-04:00

more news from Tyler Gifts...

I heard today that the girl they hired to cover most of the technical duties that I used to have put in her 2 weeks' notice today. 4 months she lasted. You have to chuckle somewhere on the inside...or if you're like me, you laughed openly.

Slip o' the tongue

2006-05-17T23:22:00.001-04:00

Two of the ladies I work with were interviewing a potential employee today. They returned from the interview and were whispering VERY quietly to each other. I figured that the conversation was not intended for me, and I was listening to my headphones as usual, so I didn't really pay attention. Some time went by, and they whispered a little more. Then they turned to me and asked, "Could you what we were whispering?"

I thought they were worried I might have heard something and I said, "No, I wasn't really paying attention, and you know how I zone out when I listen to these things."

"Good" they said, and went back to what they were doing.

A few seconds passed and I decided to be nosey. "I don't want to pry much," I said in my conversational voice, which tends to be a bit louder than most people's just because my low tone carries far. "But am I to take it that your whispering means that he didn't get the job?"

One of them smiled a little nervously and said, "Maybe, but the reason we were whispering is because he's still in the room next door with Scott."

Smooth move, Mat.

So easy to laugh from the outside...

2006-05-01T22:27:00.000-04:00

More news from Tyler Gifts...

I have it from an inside source that Tyler just picked up a new nose hair trimmer to add to their next catalog. Now, personal grooming devices are not a new thing for them, but I think you'll agree this one is special...and classy.

And if that doesn't speak enough for itself, you can get a couple more words about it HERE. Another quality piece from TG.

ITEM NUMBER 2: E, if you're reading this, watch your back. I'm told you might be ruffling a few too many feathers there. Although, I would have to laugh my ass off if they tried to can you. I'd love to watch them try to pick up the pieces after. So, ruffle away.

Next order of business... Lou, thanks for checking in. I hope to get more juicy crap from you in the future. This blog isn't as vital to my personal therapy as it might have been once, but it still makes me feel good to reflect on how f'in stupid tose guys really are.

Finally, since updates are coming to this site more sporadically than they might have once, you may want to stick your e-mail address in the FeedBlitz box in the right column. They'll automatically e-mail you the posts and save you the pain of checking back all the time.

"Um...hello Mr. Pot. My name is Mr. Kettle"

2006-04-19T20:20:00.000-04:00

More news from Tyler Gifts...

Apparently a memo went around recently announcing that the entire staff would soon be required to attend some kind of presentation about sexual harassment. Knowing that these guys would never do anything that costs money unless there was some sort of court order involved, I have to think somebody must have finally pressed some sort of charges.

But what would they ever have to claim?

Maybe the fact that Matt regularly makes comment about Carly's huge breasts without any concern about who might hear. Including Carly.

The fact that Franz threw a fit when IT dumped the trash file of his e-mail because that's where he keeps all is porn.

It's no secret that Matt takes regular business trips AND personal vacation time to go to Thailand to have sex with little boys.

So much to choose from. The question is, are they having the lecture to help clear their own guilty consciences or so that the rest of the staff can learn to harass like they do?

The foundation is crumbling

2006-04-12T21:41:00.000-04:00

More news from Tyler Gifts...

You may remember Vicki from a previous post. I received word today that she is no longer with the company because the powers that be continue to slow-pay their freelancers. Freelancers depend on the money they earn to come quickly so they can live, you morons! If you don't pay them, they can't stay - it just can't be done.

What amazes me is that Vicki was a freelancer who worked on making sure the catalogs got designed on time -- the catalog being the breead an butter of A CATALOG COMPANY. Maybe it's just me, but I always said that no matter how tight money got, I always paid two bills on time: my rent/mortgage, and my car. One is a basic necessity of life, the other takes you to work so you can make money so you can keep the house. Tyler has basically stopped making it's car payment.

Borrowed time, idiots. Borrowed time.

I love Karen, but I couldn't recommend her new freelancers in good conscience. I wish her luck, but at the same time, I hope they don't find anybody to fill Vicki's shoes. I can't think of anything better for the people there and the world in general than for that place to shut the hell down. Keep an eye on the deathclock. If they make it to zero, I'll be VERY surprised.

Despair

2006-03-25T19:40:00.000-05:00

If you haven't seen Despair.com, then you haven't visited the links I put in the right menu bar, and you should be ashamed. Not really, but it is worth checking out. If you can spare a couple minutes and need a good laugh, be sure to check out their podcasts (which are also available in Windows Media format if your Apple-phobic). It's so much like my former employer that it's almost not funny, except, from the outside all that stuff's a lot funnier.

You may have noticed that "Negative Format" has joined us as a contributor. He's from Tyler also, and may have some stories to add when he finds the time. I know I haven't updated too much lately, but I'll have somthing to add after you take a look at Despair.com.

Until then...

Atrophy

2006-03-05T21:40:00.000-05:00

More news from Tyler Gifts...

I don't think it was because of the fact that I reported his story here, but I do think the facts of the story probably had something to do with it. Lou was fired earlier this week. I haven't been given the full story, but judging by the fact that that the away message of his Instant Messenger account has said simply "Snowboarding!" ever since, I don't think he's taking it too hard. My personal feeling is that his talents were being wasted there and that it was really just something to do while he finished school, so it may be the best thing that could have happened.

The interesting facts that go along with this are that not only was Lou let go, but so was Rochelle (as I reported earlier), and a lady in customer service, and none of these positions are to be filled with new people. Instead, they are reshuffling people who are already too busy with all the work they do for the idiots, and piling these reponsibilities on them as well just so they can save a little money as the joint begins to implode.

It could be the beginning of the end, my friends. Perhaps I should readjust the Deathclock to compensate.

In honor of the Oscars, I give an award

2006-03-04T14:52:00.000-05:00

In case there was any doubt about how closely my former job resembled Office Space, I'm offering this Swingline Award to Tyler Gifts for outstanding achievement in screwing people over.

This is going to require a short trip into the past. First, let me say that the catalog department at Tyler consists of five people: Rochelle Fitsimmons, the buyer; Rachel Rutger, her assistant; Karen Samuels, the graphic designer; Marcus Paul, the photographer; and Rod Tyler, the putz. From what I understand, about two weeks ago a fifth member was pulled from customer service and added to this group to supposedly be trained by Rachel to help her. People on the inside, who are not ignorant to the ways of the morons at the top, saw this move as a possible threat to one of the people already in the group - most likely Rochelle for not much reason other than she makes the most money.

They pretended things were okay for a while, but apparently the tension got to be too much for Rochelle and she went to Rod to see what the deal was.

Based on what I've been told, and what I know of the players, this is a loose paraphrasing of the conversation.

"Rod, are you planning on firing someone in our department and replacing her with this girl from customer service?"

"Uuuuhhhh. Ummmmm."

"Are you going to fire Rachel?"

"Ur, aaaahhh..."

"Are you going to fire me?"

"Well, since you've figured it out, you might as well pack up your things and go this morning."

I've obviously picked up enough of the story to offer this recreation of events, but when I originally just heard that Rochelle had been let go on Friday, the image of "the Bobs" from Office Space (you can hear the quote by clicking on the title of this post). So the above Swinline goes to you, Tyler Gifts, for consistently meeting the low expectations everyone has of you.

One other note. Once before, I aluded to how much Rod hates confrontation. Knowing this, he probably left for the day before Rochelle did, and probably thanked God that it was winter so he could walk out with his coat in his hand to camouflage the urine stain on his pants from his no-doubt chiuaua-esque reaction to having to admit his shadyness. That's just a guess, but the image makes me smile.

The English devil walks amongst us

2006-03-01T12:31:00.000-05:00

Anybody know the rules of Menonite women? Maybe there's a Menonite guide online somewhere I can download? I'm mostly concerned with the rules for how men and women can mingle, or maybe how Menonite women and guys "from the outside" can mingle. I may have mentioned before that at my job we have a number of Menonite women working in the warehouse. It's not like I'm out there a lot, but I pass one several times a week on my way to get coffee or have lunch or whatever.

It seems like every time we pass, they give me a quick scowl, eye contact breaks, we pass, and nary a word is spoken. The first time it happened, I was about to politely say "hi," but "the look" kinda caught me off guard for that time and scared me away from trying again. Plus it made me all self-conscious so that every time I pass one now I start taking inventory to figure out if I'm doing anything that might piss them off. "Is she going to be mad that I'm wearing colors?" "Are they even allowed to talk to men?" "What if men talk to them?" "Can I say 'hi' without getting her into trouble? Even if she can't talk back, I can still be polite then...unless it means the man-menonites will make her confess to the sin and stone her or something." "Do I just smell funny?" By the time I finish talking in my head, we've passed and it's pointless anyway.

I'm not trying to make a love connection or anything, I just want to be friendly and socially appropriate. Oh well. Unless I can find the "Menonite Guide to Social Interaction" in the library or online, I guess I'll just have to stick with averting my eyes any time I see a skirt and bonnet.

Kicking the keystone

2006-02-25T23:53:00.000-05:00

More news from Tyler Gifts...

Poor Lou. Lou's official position is something like "Administrative Assistant" to Bill, but he really ends up being more of a go-fer. Bill needs Satellite radio installed in his car, Lou does it. Bill needs someone to pick up his dry-cleaning, he sends Lou. Funny thing is, because Lou basically does everything for Bill and all the VPs, he has access to a lot of important information. He has all of their e-mail logins and passwords, he has all of their corporate credit card numbers, he's been to all of their houses. If/when he leaves, they're going to have to go through a lot of trouble to clean things up in the wake.

So the other day, Bill flies to the Carolinas to visit his parents. Before going, he tells Lou that he wants him to come into the office on Sunday and print out his boarding pass and fax it to him so he doesn't have to wait in line. Now, this is asinine for so many reasons that I won't even bother to list them. Lou complains to John and John replies, "24-7. Your job is to kiss Bill's ass 24-7."

So Lou, having all the company resources at his fingertips, decides that's fine, but he's going to do it his way. He proceeds to buy a $200 printer/scanner/fax for his home computer with the company's money.

Hope your boarding pass was worth $200, because that's what you paid Bill! Loser.

Oh, and Lou applied for 15 other jobs in the half hour after his conversation with John. I am SO amused.

The snake eats it's own tail

2006-02-25T21:41:00.000-05:00

More news from Tyler Gifts...

Franz and John are both VPs and have been competing against each other for a long time. Franz strikes the most blows because John is too busy working to acknowledge him most times. John also has the ear of the president, Bill, so he doesn't have to really worry about this "climber."

I mentioned in a recent post how Franz had sent Rananah for training on the Tyler database before she was really ready, before she had been there long enough to know enough about the company to even really understand what it was she was learning. You see, originally the idea was for her to go with Fred the IT guy since he was the one that really would benefit from the training and she would get a general idea of what was going on. That was, until Franz saw his opportunity to become the Wormtongue to Bill's Theoden.

Franz suggested to Bill that Rananah should go to the training alone and that she could come back and train Fred with all the knowledge she gained. It would save money to send only one person, it would keep one more employee in the corral for those three work days, and Franz would score favor in Bill's eyes. He did all this behind John's back, and scheduled the trip a week before Fred could go to seal the deal. Of course, Rananah went and by no fault of her own, understood almost nothing of what she was there to learn. So she came back a little more knowledgeable but in no condition to teach Fred anything.

Fred, John and Bill have a weekly meeting, and in that meeting the subject of training Fred came up. John turned to him and asked, "has Rananah started training you about how the database works with the Amazon feed?"

Fred replied flatly, "You know she can't do it."

And John fired back, "But Franz said she was going to train you..."

Point: John.

Later that week, Franz instructed Carly to begin deleting old products from the database, despite the fact that everyone had been told by the database expert that this should never be done. Fred found out about it and went to let John know the deal. They ran into each other in the hall as John was walking with Bill to lunch. Fred explained the situation, and John gave a deep sigh and said -- to Fred, but plenty loud for Bill to hear, "Don't you love it when non-technical people empower themselves to make decisions abut things they don't understand?"

Point: John.

Mind you, I have little love left for John. All reports I am getting say that he is molding himself into what Bill would have him be -- something he managed to resist most of the time I was there. But the fact is, Franz can't be trusted any further than Rupaul can pitch a Volkswagen, and I'll be quite satisfied to see that climber lose his grip on the rungs and take the long fall. The image of him having to interview at another company damn near puts me into a laughter-coma every time.

Multilingual Mat

2006-02-21T22:54:00.001-05:00

NOTE TO SELF: It might be good to avoid using 'hood lingo - even in jest - at the office.

The president of the company came into our area today to ask one of my coworkers a question. As he was heading out the door, another coworker came in looking for one of the other people in our area. He asked where she was and I replied, "Ah don' know, she muss be hidin' from yo' ass." As I turned to smile at him, I glanced by the door and saw the president still standing there.

Can I make good new-guy impressions or what?

Ancient History

2006-02-21T22:46:00.000-05:00

For those who don't know me as well, Tyler wasn't my first interesting job. In face, I had two post-college office jobs before that pushed me to nearly leaving the office world altogether. I took a year off to become a framing carpenter which was a sweet gig in every respect except for bill-paying.

Anyway, one of the previous jobs was at a subsify publishing company called Dorrance Publishing. I'm not going to say too much about them, because that is the real name of the company, and I intend to post links to their site. However, it doesn't take too much thought to form your own opinion of that place from what you see.

My main colleague at Dorrance forwarded me this gem today that I just had to share with you for a chuckle. I give you, The Ninjew.