Yanno...

From: "St. Marc the Perpetually Amused" <disciple@templeoferis.org>
Newsgroups: alt.slack
Date: Mon, Jun 25, 2001 5:20 PM

... the End of the World can't come SOON E-FUCKING-NOUGH!

Here's what the "office manager" has asked me to do so far this afternoon.
Keep in mind that though she's going deaf and I'm surrounded by noisy
equipment, that she yells at me over two cubicle walls and expects me to
know what's on her screen or the piece of paper she's holding by magic:

1. Decipher two timebooks rendered totally unreadable by designers'
scribbling in their items. These, by the way, are people who went to art
school. They write like doctors on ether. What am I, a cryptoanthropologist?

2. Reach back through time and space, or use forcible telepathy, your
choice, to find out if the person whose job it is to give item numbers had
given an item I never heard of a number. I'd have to use force because I'm
sure HE wouldn't remember whether he did or not.

Like I'm going to use my precious psychic powers to help HER sorry ass. I
don't fucking think so.

3. Show her, for at least the twentieth time, how to give an item a number
without entering it twice. Well, she just asked me to show her how. When I
do, she always does it twice. The concept of "live updating" is as foreign
to her as the concept of Slack is to, well, her.

4) Help her pick a water filter for the office water cooler. Now I'm a
plumber? Put in a fucking keg beer dispenser and then we'll all be happy.

5) Restore a deleted UPS package that SHE deleted from the pickup log, after
she printed the end of day, while the UPS man was standing there with a
"zero packages" report that she was too dumb to read. Guess what? You CAN'T
restore a deleted package. YOU HAVE TO REENTER IT. (Of course, you can
repeat it, but you STILL have to print a new label.)

6) Get money out of the vending machine so our Fred-Sanford clone janitor
can put gas in his car and run an errand for her. NO, I am not making this
up.

And that's just THIS AFTERNOON. This morning was WORSE. She's been paging
people all day DESPITE the fact that I programmed her phone to direct-dial
each and EVERY extension in the building with the touch of ONE BUTTON. And
despite her willingness to disrupt the entire office (we did a study and we
figure it costs about a hundred dollars in lost time every time somebody
does an all-building page) she WON'T call designers to get information, she
asks ME, despite the fact that until an item's been shown I know NOTHING
about them.

I WANT AN ESCAPE SAUCER AND I WANT IT NOW!

Why? Not so I can get off this dirtball - appealing as that is - but so I
can LAND IT ON HER FUCKING SKULL! The ONLY reason she's still alive is that
she's my job security. My boss would rather comb his hair with a strip of
CARPET TACKS than have to deal with her: I'm the only thing preventing that.
If I leave, he'll have to get rid of her, too, and he can't do that (for
various reasons.) NORMALLY, she's not this bad, and I can sit and Slack Off
in relative peace, secure in the knowledge that even IF I were to get caught
browsing newsgroups, they wouldn't dare fire me. Not to mention the havoc I
could wreak... the other admin knows my root password, but he DOESN'T know
that there's ANOTHER root password that has remote access. I wouldn't do
anything REALLY bad: I'd just format HER hard drive EVERY OTHER GODDAMN
MORNING from home until I was thrown out in the STREET.

But TODAY she's really chafing my hide. She's the essence of stupid, lazy,
impatient PINKNESS rolled up into a little petulant body. I would be willing
to stay on Earth and FRY so long as I could watch her go FIRST. Fortunately,
I have got right with "Bob" and I will get to watch her go first and then
replay the moment FOREVER AND EVER in Wide-Screen, Tru-Color, Sensurround
BRAIN REPLAY WHENVER I WANT. And, with a little luck, whenever I replay it,
HER SORRY PINK SOUL WILL FEEL ITSELF BURNING AGAIN!

Okay, I feel better having said that. I'm really not a sadist (well, depends
on your definition - when I cause suffering, it's usually on request.) I
wouldn't really burn her over and over for all eternity. A few years, tops.
The HR administrator, she's a different story.

St. Marc
--
-><-

Quantum Mechanics: The Dream that Stuffs are made of.

http://www.templeoferis.org
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Subject: Re: Yanno...
From: "St. Marc the Perpetually Amused" <disciple@templeoferis.org>

"whyaskwhyaskwhy" <blackout@404infomagic.com> wrote in message
news:%hOZ6.2387$Ln6.296797@news.uswest.net...
>
> >
> > St. Marc
>
> <points finger and laughs> .
>
> HAHAHAHAHA!
>
> that's what happens when you have a JOB, remember?

I'd quit RIGHT NOW but for one thing:

insurance.

If I quit I lose my insurance and two members of my family who have
prexisting conditions will suffer. A lot. I might not be able to get
insurance for them again. I certainly wouldn't be able to afford it without
a job at least as bad, if not worse, than this. That's how they get you.
That's the little Slack Siphon they attach right to your foot glands (it's
under the desk) and gradually pull the life force out of you with. But
they're MY RESPONSIBILITY and I can't abandon them. That would be False
Slack.

I'm not asking for sympathy. I'm ranting, pure and simple.

St. Marc

Back to document index

Original file name: Yanno... - converted on Friday, 29 June 2001, 22:32