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our little company warehouses a lot of nutz

2004-05-03 - time is precious I know

All I'm saying is this and a little of that I'm in a really bad mood, I don't know why. I am a very short fuse. Had it up to here. I'm amazed at the things people do. I have no time for b.s. and it's not p.m.s.

My friend Big Jim back home sent me a New York Lotto scratch and win card and a note today, I didn't alter his note at all:

Dear Ness.

This may sound nutz but try to say a prayer to St. Anthony - he helps people to find things that get lost. Like credit or chances. I know it sounds doumb (actual spelling) - what's it going to hurt - give it a shot. Say (pray) "St. Anthony please help me find the chance I lost." It will be ok, Ness, you'll see.

Love,

Jim

P.S. It really works - try it.

I told St. Anthony that I would love to find that I won the scratch and win, but I found that he said no.

At work recently I may or may not have mentioned that there was a bust, or a crackdown on the employees. Not at all to be confused with the bust or crackdown that happened a couple of years ago that involved the SWAT team surrounding our beloved company and busting in the doors with brute force and ninja like skill. I knew we had a buzz-you-in door for a reason.

The current regime states that no employee should or will (unless they want to be an oustee) :

1)misuse the phones. Under the old regime, hour long conversations were commonly overheard, and not unheard of. Under the new order, the three minute rule is key. Phone logs are currently in operation.

2) fall asleep at the desk, even if they are on meds and everyone is used to "working around them".

3)kick it with their feet up while saying "hey, what's up" to the owner when he arrives.

4) Abuse internet availability. We will be checking all visited websites, so use discretion, as our webtracking company down the block know who you are and where you may travel on the information superhighway. Off limits is porn, any ecommerce, stock anything, sexy emails. Especially subject to closer scrutiny (because of recent porn activity) are buzzwords and search phrases like "hardcore, sex, hardcore sex, wet, spank, shower, Carmen Electra, girls. "Golden girls" is ok, "golden showers" is not.

I am having a fuck of a time staying with the three minute rule, as is everyone else that has two ears and a mouth, but on the internet thing, I don't screw around. I'm not an avid porn surfer, but I thought it would be a nice gesture to visit some very appropriate sites so when next months printout comes out, I can smile broadly and say, yes that was me on that site.

dontfireme.com

kissass.net

lovemyjob.com

staremployee.com

whome.org

Ididntdoit.com

hardestworkerhere.com

lovemyboss.org

whatraise.biz

stillherethankgod.com

lastonestanding.net

workwithasmile.biz

Illdiehere.com

Nasir, the head of warehousing, walked up behind me today and said, "Hey. Hey. Look at me."

I turned around to look at him, and he looked like the same Nasir I've always seen. He was carrying a neatly folded Minutemaid O.J. cardboard box under his arm. He smiled. So I smiled.

"Well, you did a great job folding that. Good for you."

Then he let me in on the surprise.

"No, look!"

And he turned around and showed me the back of his t-shirt. It said, "It only takes a minute. Minutemaid orange juice."

"I didn't plan this! I didn't!"

"Nasir, are you putting me on? Something's funny with your story."

"No, really. I swear!!"

And he laughed like someone just comped him 40 cc's of liquid valium.

"You're a synchronistic joker, Nasir."

Dedra, the girl at work I mention occasionally who a few posts ago was making fun of Angie's new retainer, was telling Angie that she has a new VIP card. I asked her where she got it.

"Girl? You are NOT allowed."

"I just want to know where it's from Dedra."

"You want to know where it's from. Mmmt? Nope. Mmnnt."

"Maybe I'll get one."

"It's a VIP card, only for exclusive folk. You guys are not exclusive."

"I can see that. Where did you get it?"

"It-is-from-the-Super-8-OK?"

"The Super 8 motel?"

(laughing)"Mmmmnt? OK? I said. Super 8."

"Did you have to actually apply? Can we see the form letter?"

"OK. I am not even talking to you about it anymore ok?"

"Is there a form letter?"

"Yes there's a form letter."

Then she begged us for a dollar for lunch like always, and we said no like always. Then she told us we were bootleg and ghetto, and she's not dealing with our department anymore. Then I told her to put it on her VIP card, and she promised to never deliver a sermon in our department again, and that God would deal with us. Then someone suggested that for one of God's messengers, she was really not doing God's work. Then she left us, and at least one of us wondered out loud if what she said was true.

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