SMARTJUICE

Model Employee

I came back from a week's worth of vacation to two disturbing things at work:

1. A voice mail box full of angry, angry customer messages, and
2. A new hair color on my septuagenarian boss.

This first one was disturbing because I was told not to leave an out-of-office message on my voice mail that directed people to call my boss. He said he would just check my voice mails regularly and return those calls. That? Never happened. So I spent the entire morning going through voice-mail after voice-mail, compiling them into a list that I entitled "People you MUST call back". The capital letters must have worked because I heard him actually calling the people back. Go figure.

The second one was disturbing because his normally grey (gray?) hair was dyed a dark brown. A not very subtle brown. A deeply disturbing brown. I think 'Just For Men' was designed to cover up a little grey, not change someones entire hair color. But maybe I'm wrong.

In the past, I've always tried to be a good employee. I take pride in doing a good job. I am very much a team player. I enjoy positive feedback, so I work hard to make sure that I get that. Somehow though, that quality has not carried over to this job. Don't get me wrong, I get my work done, but I'm starting to realize I'm a jerk about it all. I reached a point this summer when I decided I didn't care about this job. I think that point was when I was flooded with angry phone calls and my boss didn't really seem to care that the villagers were about to show up with torches and pitchforks. If the boss doesn't care, why should I?

Since then, I pretty much do the minimum amount of work possible. I argue with my boss frequently over things I do not agree with. I let out loud, audible sighs when asked to do something that I think is unnecessary. I make my own hours, coming and going as I please. I seriously contemplated taking an on line defensive driving course during work hours because it would be more convenient than taking it at night. The jury is still out on that one.   

All this to say, I'm not really proud of the worker I have become this summer. A lot of that has to do with it being just a summer job. However, I've been wondering lately what I would do if this was my full time job? Would I be treating it differently? Would I still be here if there was not an end date in sight? I used to always think that I could put up with any type of job. I figured I would always be able to find something redeeming that would make a bad job bearable, but now I'm not so sure. Usually that redeeming quality would be co-workers or atmosphere. Those two factors can make a horrible job seem not so horrible. But, as a former co-worker pointed out to me, I am pretty much my only co-worker this summer. And evidently I am not enough.

So with all that in mind, how do you guys think I should go about asking my boss for a bonus at the end of the summer? I think I rightly deserve one.

Working....on getting fired

Last week I stole two stamps from work.

Actually, if my criminal law class taught me anything, it was that I embezzled two stamps from work. I have control over the stamps and they are part of my scope of employment.

My Dad and Grandad needed Father's Day Cards. It was for the greater good.

I don't feel bad about it though. Would you like to know why? I will tell you.

• When I asked my boss what him and his wife were going to do in Puerto Vallarta, he replied with "none of your damn business." But he said it with this smile that made it quite evident that his septuagenarian self and his wife were going to be engaging in coitus. Which.....no.
• I was forced to compliment my boss on a very tight shirt that he was wearing one day. I say forced because he came to my office and said, "No one has complimented me on my new shirt today." There's a reason for that.
• Said shirt was basically an undershirt. A very tight undershirt. Complimenting the boss on said shirt led to a discussion of how a store was having a sale on a particular brand of underwear and how he went and bought them out of his size. Which...no.
• While the boss was in sunny Mexico, I was instructed to check his emails and respond accordingly. Every email was from some irate customer that is very unhappy with the business, as they should be.
• Most of these emails were responses to a mass email that we sent, asking clients to print out forms and fax them back to us. Most of these clients had already faxed the forms to us, but on our original letter the fax number was listed wrong. Instead, it was the number to a prayer line. One client accused me of being a part-time preacher, trying to trick innocent people into signing up for a prayer line. As if there is nothing worse than being prayed for.
• Another part of my job is to open all of these business reply mailers that we sent out to drum up business. Now, when I get junk mail with a business reply envelope, I tend to just throw it away. Junk mail is junk mail. It will always be around. Some people though, they have some time on their hands. Serious time. Since I was opening all of these envelopes, I pretended that all of the following were specifically targeted at me:
  • Many many empty envelopes
  • Many envelopes stuffed with other junk mail from other companies
  • Many envelopes filled with torn up/shredded paper
  • One envelope filled with something greasy. Which....no
  • Many letters saying "REMOVE ME FROM YOUR LIST"
  • Many letters saying things like, "THIS IS A SCAM", "WHY WOULD I PAY YOU ANYTHING?", "YOU'RE A FUCKING CROOK!"
  • One letter that said, "I DON'T LIKE TO GIVE MY MONEY TO WHORES!" (My favorite)
  • One letter that said, "EAT SHIT AND DIE"
  • One pamphlet that told me how Jesus loved me. (Or did I send that myself????)
  • One giant box with a telephone book inside it.   

I know I'm breaking the cardinal sin of blogging by writing so disparagingly about my employer, but oh well. Some things need to be written. But for the record, this is the best place to work EVER. I love my boss and his tight fitting shirts!! I love how everything is managed and I love it when customers call me incompetent on a daily basis. And I love septuagenarian sex!

Besides, if they are going to fire me, at least fire me because of the stamps. That will make for a better story.

Gainfully Employed

I had just started shaving when my cell phone began to ring. Luckily, I hadn't applied shaving cream to that side of my face yet.

"Hello..? Matt?"

Crap, it's my boss. It's already 9am and I am just now shaving. True, the job has flexible hours, but I should be able to make it in by 9am.

"I can't get a hold of co-worker and I need you to relay a message."

Great, he's not even in the office. This whole sleeping-in way too late thing is a non-issue.

"Alright," he says, "I'll be there in about 15 minutes."

Crap. Again.

"Umm, well sir, I got off to a late start this morning. I'm just now leaving my apartment. Walking out the door as we speak. So you might beat me there."

"Oh, I didn't realize you weren't in the office yet. That's no problem. Still call and get a hold of co-worker and relay that message though. See you later."

Mad dash to the bathroom to butcher my face with the razor, haphazardly throw on some jeans and a t-shirt and fly out the door. Never call co-worker. Never relay message. Why ask someone to relay a useless message when you can do so yourself in 5 minutes? One more question that will never be answered.

As you can tell, I have a job. Visions of lounging by the pool and going to the gym every day were quickly dashed about four days after exams ended. A summer job had come through, thanks to the help of co-worker, a girl who goes to school with me.

"Yes, Matt? I'd like for you to come in and meet with me tomorrow. You have a car, right? And a laptop? Come in at 10am please."

Those were all the instructions I received. Was this an interview? Was I supposed to bring my truck? My laptop? I brought neither. I took the light rail downtown and brought nothing with me, except for a binder and a pen.

I left after 6pm that day. My first day on the job. So much for the interview.

My mom calls. "Where were you today? I tried calling to see how the interview went, but your phone has been turned off most of the day."

"Well, I guess I've been working."

I find myself complaining about this job quite a bit. I really shouldn't do that. The money is good and I need the money. Not to mention that the money is paid in cash, which helps out more than I thought it would. Not to mention that I got a raise the second week into the job, which helped out even more. So I really shouldn't complain. And I try not to, especially since this is just a summer job.

It's just that....have you ever wondered what it would be like to work for your grandfather? Your grandfather who is a little senile, very forgetful, and doesn't know how to do stuff by himself? I now know what this is like.

I work for a very nice and generous man. He appreciates me enough to give me a raise after only two weeks of working. He could care less when I come and go, as long as I'm keeping his office, paperwork, and money in order. True, he is a little obsessive, but he only works three months out of the year. I would be obsessive about those three months too. But there are sometimes when I want to take off my flip-flop (very casual dress code; another bonus) and throw it at his head. And these are the reasons why:

- He has no clue how to run his business effectively. He could make twice as much money if he did. Not that he cares. This is all retirment money to him. I shouldn't care about this, but I can't help it.

- He has no clue how to operate the program that he uses for his business. He can run reports though. I know this because he will have me come in and watch him run various reports. The report never runs smoothly. The he uses the f-word. A lot. Actually, this makes me laugh.

- On more than one occassion, I have searched for a customer in our system for over an hour. Finally I break down and go ask him if this person is, in fact, in the system. Of course he or she is in the system. Under a completely different name, with no notation as to this other un-related name. Makes perfect sense.

- On more than one occassion, I have been called and told to meet my boss on the street in 10-20  minutes so that he can hand me mail through his car window. This ensures that he won't have to deal with coming back into the office to drop off mail.

- Carry a printer/fax combo, a chair, and countless other boxes of office supplies up to the office on the 19th floor. Then carry them all back down a few days later when he realized he probably over-bought in the first place. Then, as I am carrying the last box of supplies to his car, watch as he begins to drive away. Run after his car with a box of office supplies in your hands and flag him down.

- I was asked if I had Access on my laptop. I replied in the affirmative. Now I am supposed to be some type of Access guru. Not to mention a network/printer/website guru. I am not these things.

- Working on Memorial Day sucks, even if you are getting paid by the hour.

"Matt, are you going to work for me again next summer? I'd really like to have you back. I trust your work."

"I'm probaby going to have to find a more law-related job, sir."

"Well, I'll give you stationary that says you are a legal intern. I'll tell people you did legal stuff."

So can my grandfather, sir. And I've now learned that I working with him will not be an option next summer as well.

A Change Will Do You Good?

Here it is, 12:30am and I am still at work. I took a dinner break of course, but am still up here, toiling away. Was up here late the past two nights, and even came in on Saturday. But I don't mind. You see, I am a procrastinator by nature, escpecially when it comes to small things. I have been putting off many small things, and I could continue to keep putting them off if it weren't for this deadline looming over my head. For Friday is my last day with my current company, and truthfully, I'm pretty sad about my decision.

At the end of this month, I will be attending law school full time. This has been something that's been going on for awhile now. It was a full year of planning a preparation. I had fully intended on going to school part time, but I began to question if I could hack a full time job in addition to a professional school. Some people can, but I don't think I am one of those people. I decided to capitilize on a good situation in life (no family, good savings) and go full time. So I quit. I gave a 2 month notice, which at the time seemed like an eternity, but it's crazy how fast it went. Some people thought I was crazy to give such a long notice, but how could I not? I've seen first hand how a 2 week notice (heck, I've felt the reprecussions of a 2 day notice) can affect everyone. If I knew I was leaving, I figured that they should as well.

What it boils down to is that I lucked out big time when I started working here after college. It's been 2.5 years, and I can honestly say I've enjoyed most of it. The biggest reasons for this are the people I work with. My co-workers. My team members. Somewhere along the line though, they ceased being those nouns. Instead, they became my friends.

I've seen these people more than I've seen my family, my girlfriend, my "other" friends, etc. I've seen them get married. I've seen them have babies. I've seen them early in the morning for charity runs. I've seen them late at night at happy hours. I've learned about their families. I've been to their houses. I know about their vacation plans. They've given me nicknames. They've made me laugh countless times. Gut wrenching, open mouth laughing. They let me make them laugh.

It's always a weird feeling to leave a job that you like. In a way, enjoying your job and co-workers can be a Catch 22. When it is time to leave, you never really want to, even if it is the best decision. It seems that when people hate their jobs, they have no problem leaving. But I have a problem with leaving. I've done it before; it's awkward. You stand around, looking at these people. Lingering. Telling them bye. Making plans to meet up soon, but never knowing if it will happen. And if it does happen, trying to get over that "work friend" hump. The hump where you only talk about work related things, which don't mean that much to you anymore. It becomes an effort, whereas before, it was effortless.

But I suppose there is no turning back now. My resignation letter was approved ages ago. My replacement is being hired. My PTO is being cashed out (and is being directly applied to a laptop, so better updating!). Even my going away happy hour is planned (tomorrow night). But I'd be lying if I didn't say a part of me wants to come in next Monday and say, "Just kidding...take me back?" That can't be done though.

All I can do now is finish up a project, go home and go to bed. And I can hope. I can hope that these people, these people that I just happened to come in contact with, these people I call my co-workers and peers, will truly cease to be my co-workers, but will continue to be my friends.

Refrigerator? I Hardly Know Her!

At work we have a kitchen on my floor. We call it The Caf. I'm not sure why we call it that. It is nothing like a cafeteria in that no food is served there and there are no lunch ladies present. But it is where everybody convenes to eat their homemade or fast food bought lunches, so in a way, it is a little similar to a cafeteria. One good thing about cafeterias is that you generally do not have to deal with cleaning them. That job is usually left to a trained and paid professional. This is where our caf differs from normal cafeterias and begins to seem more like a kitchen. We have janitors that clean the floors, tables, etc., but for smaller things, the burden lies on us.

To make it fair, we have a cleaning schedule that pairs you up with someone, and for one week, you and that person are supposed to empty/load the dishwasher, clean the microwaves, and periodically clean out the fridge. I'll be honest and say that I am not the best kitchen cleaning partner. I always forget to start the dishwasher before I leave or to empty it in the morning. I'm just inconsiderate like that. Most of the time, it is never a big deal because I am normally paired with some nice and generous person that realizes I am much to busy and important to remember small things like starting a dishwasher, or so I like to believe. However, this past time I got paired with someone who was not going to put up with my lax kitchen cleaning ways. This lady was serious about cleaning the kitchen. I didn't catch onto this at first though. I still went about my oblivious ways, leaving without loading the dishwasher, not unloading it until lunch, etc. Then one day my co-worker comes to me and tells me that she heard Crazy Kitchen Cleaning Lady talking smack about me. About how I was no help to her at all, which maybe, might have been, okay it probably was true, but no need to talk smack about me.

Needless to say, I felt a bit guilty. And I felt a little mad that my good name was getting tarnished over something so stupid. I mean, I would much rather get a bad reputation for doing illegal drugs in the bathroom, not for failing to unload a dishwasher. I decided to make nice with the lady and I offered to clean both refrigerators out on that Friday.

Now, when most people clean out the refrigerators, they send out an email letting everyone know that stuff is about to get thrown away. Come get your crap, or it's going in the garbage. Most people refer to this as a 'refrigerator purge'. So I go to send out the warning email and I think to myself, "Why not at least make it funny and relevant to the times?" Well, it was summer, and most people go to a pool in the summer. With this is mind, I crafted the following email:

"The refrigerators want to lose a little weight in time for pool season. Therefore, REFRIGERATOR PURGE on Friday."

I got a few responses saying things along the lines of "Haha! Clever, clever". No harm done. Until I get an email that simply said the following:

"You are sick."

Now, that is a little ambiguous, but considering the source, someone had taken offense to my email. I couldn't figure it out. I was dumbfounded. How could anyone take offense to that? I went back and read the email over and over and I could still find nothing. So I read it once more, and that's when it hit me.

The refrigerators want to lose weight, so they are going to purge. And that would make them bulimic. I had just insulted all the bulimic refrigerators.

I didn't really think anything of it, so I told my manager about it in a joking way. However, the look of concern that flashed on his face told me that it might not be the best joke. The entire company had just been going through all this PC and sensitivity training, and my little insult to bulimic refrigerators might have bothered other people. So you know what I had to do? I had to send out an APOLOGY EMAIL that said the following:

"I'm sorry if anyone took offense to my previous email. All I meant to say was that I am going to be cleaning out the refrigerators. Thank you."

And let me tell you, as soon as that email hit everyone's in boxes, I had about 20 responses and 20 calls from people wondering who got offended, and did I get in trouble, and how they didn't understand how that email could have been offensive, etc. All of a sudden, this stupid email I sent had blown way out of proportion.

For an entire week, I waited for a call from HR. I waited for them to call me down so that they could talk to me about my offensive behavior. I thought I might have to present some special report to my co-workers about the dangers of bulimic refrigerators. But nothing ever happened. I guess HR doesn't mind if their refrigerators are bulimic, but God help you if you ever wear flip flops.