I did some quick math today at work, and the results are quite depressing. Using my space-age slide rule, I estimated that I spent approximately three-quarters of my day correcting other people's mistakes. I have a low tolerance for this sort of crap, especially since a law had been passed that made it a felony to rest one's head up one's ass. I would make citizen's arrests, but I'm too nice.
You may think I imagine myself sitting on a throne of perfection. That is not true. I am well aware of my shortcomings. But when I make mistakes, it's enjoyable for all. "Why is there a photocopy of testicles in this funding report?" Oops. Sorry boss. "Why is the phrase ' hot MILF' used in place of the customer's name on this application?" Whoa-oh. Me again. But other people's mistakes are far more serious. It's time consuming to correct, I end up staying later to catch up and then, the next thing you know, I'm missing The Simpsons. When you find little Cuban tears on your documents, you know someone, somewhere made a heinous error.
I was watching The Wonder Years the other day. It was the episode where Kevin goes to work with his father where he witnesses him getting verbally bitch-slapped by his superior. At first I felt sympathy for Kevin's father. After today, however, I can kind of see why the boss was screaming. Incompetence is annoying.
In my short brush with power as a Lead Associate for the Revco (now defunct) sales team, I was a nice leader - always patient and understanding. Put me in the position of authority now, and I'll probably be a walking active volcano, waiting to spew lava all over the smug faces of my underlings. Mess up on my watch and I'll verbally rip your nuts off and stand there while you juggle them for my amusement. I'll be all like "AARGH!" (not to be confused with pirate sounds). I wasn't simplifying there. I would literally say nothing but "ARRGH!" Allow me to demonstrate:
DROOLING 'TARD: Good morning boss.
ME: AARRGH
COPY ROOM TROLL: I'll have those reports ready in five minutes.
ME: AARGH AARGH AARGH!
SYCOPHANT: Brilliant perception boss.
Oh, and new company policy (implemented by me) will dictate that if you conduct small talk about the weather with me and/or make comments about what I'm eating for lunch, I get to tell your children that Santa Claus doesn't exist.
I'm sure some smart-ass is going to e-mail me pointing out some minuscule error in this entry in an attempt to diffuse my entire rant. The internet can be so cruel.
2 comments:
Blargh? I think you ahve been spending too much time at www.fatchicksinpartyhats.com. Also that thing about Santa won't work on all people. I am not going to lie to my kids about the existance of Santa. They will know full well that i spent my hard earned money on their spoiled asses.
Fine, you're right. I changed it to "Aargh".
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