Conversation Medley: Spock, Euchre and Cat Tails

Via msn:

Me: My friend met Spock about a month ago.

Brian: When he was in Vulcan?

Me: Yeah, and Calgary.

Brian: He must get very tired of still being Spock...

Me: If I were him, I think I would be having an identity crisis for the past 50 years.

Brian: I think I would be tempted to get up at the podium...stare out at all the people dressed in Trek clothes...and tell them to move on.
________________________

While playing euchre:

My euchre partner: Why is it that you only win when I’m not your partner?!

Me: …because you’re not my partner…?
________________________

While I draw a picture of my co-worker's cat on her white board, she tells me a story about meeting her ex for coffee:

“So yeah, he walked in and…he has a long black tail with a white tip.”

I stop drawing and turn to her…

“…what? Wow, what kind of kinky guys do you date!?”

Vacationers Beware...

...or you may come back to work and find your office decked out like one of these! Below are authentic pictures of offices from my work that have been decorated while their occupant was away on vacation.  Please note the careful attention to detail.

I wonder how many rolls of tin foil that took? It reminds me of that episode of Mr. Bean when he decides to paint and wraps his entire apartment in newspaper so he can light a stick of dynamite in a paint can. I wish I'd remembered that before I painted my living room.

 

Office camping!! Also handy if you work late and need to stay at work overnight.

The stuffed bear covered while the director was on vacation. According to the paw prints, he can defy gravity. Now that's a bear you want in charge.

Maxipads. Why? I have no idea. Also, I have no idea about the mouse or rat on the screen.

I've saved the best for last. There are a few impressive things here. Somehow (I have NO idea how) they got a real tub and toilet in the office, but not before first laying down the tile.

Michelle enjoys her newly decorated office, complete with toilet paper.  Hopefully she has hand sanitizer handy.

We're All The Stars Of Our Own TV Shows

I was accosted the other day on my way to work.

I had just stumbled off of my bus ride in my usual early morning zombie-like state and made my way to the street corner across from my work. I immediately noticed a few people standing around the corner with a tv camera aimed at them. Before I turned my head in an attempt to discretely walk by, I saw that it was two people collecting for the Salvation Army with a bell and a collection ball hanging thingy. I'm sure there is a more technical term somewhere.

Turns out it was someone from Citytv breakfast television trying to help the Salvation Army rep collect donations. I made the mistake of turning around and accidentally making eye contact which she used as her opportunity to ask me if I would like to donate anything to the Salvation Army. 50 cents, a dime, ANYTHING she says. Not wanting to be the jackass that turns down a charity, especially on tv, I dug out my wallet, faced the camera, and wished I had been a little bit more attentive with my make up that day.

When I put it in, the Citytv host asked me if there was anyone I wanted to say good morning to. Knowing that A) there would be nobody I knew who was watching that

station at that time and B) well...actually just point "A)" again, I stared terrified into the camera and said something resembling "uuuuuummmgggguhh...gooooood moooorning...uhhh....Edmonton???" to which she responded "Well said!"

I was actually able to retrieve a shot of me being on tv. Here is a screen shot of the incident:

After this, I swiftly walked into work extremely flustered and hoping nobody saw my tv debut.

Nikki wasn't in yet, so I went up and left a note on her desk saying "I was accosted this morning." but left it unsigned. She called me about 15 minutes later. Our conversation went like this:

Nikki: How were you accosted?

Lorraine: How did you know it was me?!

Nikki: Honestly Lorraine...you're the only person I know who would use the word "accosted."

She knows me too well.

Further Evidence That I Should Not Procreate

It's getting harder to laugh at the stupid things I do when they occur so often.

Some backlogged items:

3. A month or two ago I told Nikki that the drain in one of our double sinks was clogged. The water was murkey and I couldn't see the bottom. Turns out I just completely forgot that I put the plug in. I discovered this two days later. (Thankfully before I contacted our landlord)

2. A month ago I was working late and realized I had to move my car as my parking had expired. Got my car, moved it into the company parkade, then tried to use my keycard to get up to the lobby. Didn't work. Had to wait for someone to come out the door and then snuck in. Got to the lobby, couldn't scan in the elevator. Got security to scan me in. Got to my floor. Couldn't scan into my floor. Went back down to the lobby. Security calls our company rep. Gets permission to scan me onto my floor. I leave a message for Facilities to fix my dang card. I grab my stuff and leave. I go to scan into the elevator on the off chance it will work. I hold up my key card and realize...yes. I have been using my apartment keycard instead of my work keycard. Yes, they look identical. But are on separate keychains.

That brings us to today's incident.

1. I tried baking a carrot cake last night for our United Way bake sale today. I got as far as getting the batter ready in a bowl before taking a break and subsequently crashing. Tonight I attempted to finish, which I thought I had done successfully until I realized I had forgotten one vital item; the carrots.

I'm getting kinda scared. Hold me.

Note to self: don't...do...anything.

Nikki: You're a disaster today.
Lorraine: You tell me that every day.
Nikki: No, I usually say you are a mess. Today you're a disaster!

I'm not sure if this is the way I have always been and I just never really took note of it, or if this is something new. The last time I felt this clumsy was probably around puberty, when my body started growing rapidly but had apparently left my hand-eye coordination behind.

Lately I've been doing things like walking into walls, coffee tables, various other inanimate objects, and just getting hurt in very strange ways. (Moreso than usual, is my point.)


I guess they aren't only strange but also stupid. For example, I can't keep a drink from spilling to save my life. I also keep perpetually walking into the corner posts of my bed. On closer inspection, it looks like someone specifically designed the posts for this purpose. Despite the obvious lack of esthetics, I am still considering buying foam or some type of padding and using duct tape to securely fasten to each post. *brief moment of affection for duct tape*


Then there was the incident a few days ago where I seared my finger on a broken part of a mixer that belonged to a movie-theater style popcorn maker. How did this happen, you ask? Well, first of all, I'm an idiot and immediately grabbed it when it fell out of the popcorn pot without it even occurring to me that it would be ridiculously hot, and secondly, it was part of my volunteering duties for our United Way campaign at work. Since it did occur on work time, I briefly considered filing for workman's comp, but discarded this idea due to the consequence of having more people find out about my stupidity, and subsequently creating a safety incident report which would soon be circulated to the entire company.


Unfortunately, this was not the only incident with the popcorn maker...oh no. I also had a burning hot kernel fly out of the pot and target the gap between the collar of my shirt and my chest like a fat kid on a smartie. Fearing I would accidentally bare my breasts in front of my coworkers during my mad attempt to remove it, I ran away clutching my chest. (You can imagine how graceful and sophisticated this looked.) Two days later, I have three very red and very large blisters from where it first fell beneath my breast, stubbornly moved to a second spot under my breast, and firmly planted itself in the center of my bra, the part which provides the most pressure against the skin. If I could put up a tactful picture of this, I would.


I can't help but wonder how this particular kernel found it's way three feet away from where it was sitting and into the tiniest crevice of my shirt. Really...the angles must have been so precise and exact, along with the amount of velocity it took to shoot out of the pot. AND it knew to do it when somebody I had just met on the United Way committee was talking to me. Which makes me hope I haven't developed a reputation as "girl who burns herself by accident a lot." Yes, there is no doubt...this kernel was out to get me. This kernel HUNTED ME DOWN. (Kudos to anybody who got the Dane Cook reference.)


I've been trying to come up with a good reason that these things keep happening, and after ruling out brain tumor (mostly because that is clearly a child of my paranoia), I have yet to come up with a good explanation. So for now, let's go with a second puberty, and I will heartily await to grow another few inches taller.

Best Friend Conversations

Having a conversation with Nikki about work using extremely advanced technical IT jargon:

Nikki: You don't need to do a computer account request form, just an equipment move request form. All you need is your asset number on your...box...thingy.

Lorraine: ...you mean your hard drive?

Nikki: ....yes, that.

Lorraine: You DO realize you work in IT, right?

Nikki: Shutup!

Key Calamity

First of all, I'd like to acknolwedge how crappy it was of me to send a note out to everyone saying "Hey, I'm blogging again, check back often!" and then proceed to not post anything new. I think I kinda scare myself every time I do that. You know. Because that means people might actually be reading this.

I seem to be having bad luck with keys today.

I was so proud of myself for getting up early (by early, I mean on time, which really is early for me). I went to leave the house when I realized, as usual, I had forgotten my car keys downstairs in my room. The weird thing is, they weren't in my room. Or in my purse, which I tore apart, or in my jacket pockets. Or in the tv room. Or on the kitchen counters. Or in the upstairs hallway. (You get the point.) I'm starting to snicker at the irony that the one day I am actually early/on time, I'm going to be late because I can't find my car keys. So I finally give in and grab the spare set, which I don't like because the lock remote doesn't work (I know, spoiled). Halfway to work, I remember; yesterday I had softball and was wearing my rain jacket. Guaranteed they are in that pocket.

I feel a bit better pulling in to work. Until I get up the elevators to the electronically locked door. I hold my purse up to activate my keycard (because I am too lazy to take it out at the time, and it still reads it) but the little red light doesn't turn green. You've gotta be kidding me.

In my search for my car keys, I took my keycard out of my purse because it has little keys attached to it that fool me into thinking it is my car keys. Evidentally, I forgot to put it back in.

Funny how losing one set of keys can cause you to lose another.

I also walked into the corner of the open metal drawer of my desk.

It's 9:00 a.m. Can't WAIT to see how the rest of the day will go.

*AFTER PUBLISHING NOTE: I asked for an extra keycard from our admin. It was when she brought it to me that I realized my keycard was already hooked on my beltloop, and not in my purse. I didn't forget it at home, I forgot I was wearing it!! That's the LAST TIME I'm going to get up early for work!!!!

Absent-Minded

*Staring blankly at screen*

Today I drove to work. I pulled into the dreaded Impark parking lot that I hate but have no choice to park in and parked beside the machine I have to buy a ticket from. I got out of the car, went to the other side of my car closer to the machine, and proceded to open my gas tank. After staring blankly at it for a few minutes I remembered that hey, there's no gas station here, and hey, I'm trying to pay for parking, not pump gas.

I did something else absent minded today but I can't remember what. HA.

Office Smack Talk

I recently got Laura, one of my best friends, a job at my work. Which means the days are a little less boring. And by a little, I mean a lot. We like to spice things up by emailing each other quotes from The Office throughout the day and making hap hazard paper airplanes to throw at each other when no one's looking.

So, in our comfy little accounting department, we have these two stamps, one to fill info out to enter an invoice and one to fill out info for paying an invoice. Today after some of Laura's usual smack talk, I menacingly held up the stamps to her and said:

"I will TOTALLY enter you and pay you."

"Lorraine...think about what you just said."

*pause*

"...OH MY GAWD!!!!!"

I'M GOING TO CALIFORNIA (gonna live the life...sippin' on tequila night after night...)

Sorry about the gay boy band lyric title. But I've had that song stuck in my head ever since I found out that...well...there's an excellent chance I am going to California. In just under two weeks! You see, there is this little music festival there...I'm not sure if you've heard of it...it's called...COACHELLA!!!!!

I couldn't possibly think of a better birthday present. *cough*This FRIDAY APRIL THE 13th*cough* Rage Against the Machine will be reunited...and I will be there to bask in said reunion. Not to mention the Chili Peppers! They're going to be Red Hot.

To add more randomness to this spontaneous trip, I'm flying down by myself and meeting my friend from England and his friend there. (In a little place called Palm Springs.) Johny English, as I lovingly refer to him, got me a ticket AND since he is related to the guitarist in the Arctic Monkeys, we also have backstage passes!! BACKSTAGE PASSES!!! I've never had backstage passes to anything in my life, besides like, talent shows I've been in. And even then we didn't have backstage passes...or talent for that matter.

Everybody seems to know somebody who is going to this festival. When I told my cousin Rob, he informs me that his friend gets to INTERVIEW Rage Against The Machine and have a photoshoot with them for The Toronto Sun. I told him to hook me up with her. I mean, not sexually. Although I would if it got me in to meet Rage.

So nothing is set for sure yet...I still have to confirm time off work and make sure flights are ok. But I just keep thinking to myself...I am young once, and there is no good reason why I SHOULDN'T go to this. Life is too short to make excuses not to do something amazing. And I'm pretty much at the point where I would say "Uh...you can either give me the time off work or I'm taking the time off work...either way I am going." I'm sorry, I just cannot turn this down.

The only hard thing will be not eating between now and when I leave so that people won't shriek in shock and disgust when they see me in a bikini. Although I've lost a good chunk of weight in the last month or two, I'm still not bikini ready. I am, however, beach and palm trees and good music ready. Goodbye unexpected April snowstorms!

You can't lose something you never had...such as my mind

It's been seven years.

I started working there the summer before high school and worked every subsequent summer.

Six months out of high school I was hired full time and stayed for a year and a half.

Now I'm back working there for a few months.

During my first summer there, I was too terrified and shy to eat with the "adults" and would eat my lunch huddled away in a corner of my dad's office. But I quickly made friends with them and started eating in the kitchen.

The cupboard containing the glasses and mugs is right next to the cupboard containing the plates and bowls.

It's been seven years.

And when I need one of these items...

...I STILL go to the opposite cupboard to retrieve it.

Every time.

Personal Office Statistics

I'm 95% sure that the cup I am drinking my tea out of was mistakenly placed back in the cupboard as clean when it was, in fact, dirty.

I'm also 84% sure that I will ignore this fact, push any thoughts of germs out of my mind, and will drink the rest of it anyway rather than forward the phones, trudge back upstairs, go to the opposite side of the building where the kitchen is and pour myself a new cup.

I'm 68% sure that these statistics will gross at least one of you out.

I'm 52.73% sure that I don't really care if this grosses you out.

I'm 100% sure that I will blog about this.

Suggestion Box: Last Day At Work

My childish sense of mischief has been working overtime to conjure up ideas for pranks and funny things to do as my last working day approaches (Friday July 28, 2006)

I've taken a page from Jim in The Office and had a few suggestions/ideas already:

• Take an object from someone's desk and put it in a jello mold...then leave it for them to find
• Replacing someone's pens and pencils with crayons
• Have a garage sale for left over office supplies I won't need at my desk
• Buy my old telephone off the company so that I can ceremoniously take a sledge hammer to it in a deserted field...then melt it in a bon fire. "Try and ring NOW...b#%ch..."
• Chasing a solicitor out with a baseball bat
• Squirting a solicitor with a water gun (I just thought of that...oh MAN I would die laughing...)
• Make out with someone on my desk (whoops...that was supposed to go under "secret fantasies"...wrong list...)
• Moon the security camera
• Print off a page that says "I have felt for a long time that my needs as a printer have been neglected. People just come and go in and out of my life all the time and use me for my ink supply. I have feelings too! And I hope the rumours about replacing me haven't been true...I always try to do my best and I'm sorry about the paper jams. Some days I'm just not feeling up to par. Please try to understand and be a little more sensitive in future. Love, Herbert (your printer...yes, I do have a name. Didn't bother to find out did ya?" and just wait for someone to pick it up at the printer
• Convince people that I'm leaving to star in a movie and they should get my autograph while they can
• Try to mail my most annoying coworker to Japan
• Put a sign on my boss's back
• Put up a "donations to the Lorraine fund" box
• Build a monument to myself in reception.
• Plant a fake huge rubber spider in a common area of the office
• Page for Donald Duck or some other humorous cartoon character
• Switch the male and female symbols on the bathrooms
• Put a fake porn icon on my desktop, take a print screen of the desk top, set it as the background, delete the porn icon, but it will still appear as a picture...this should make the person who tries to delete it go nuts because they won't be able to

Clearly this list is not nearly long enough, so please leave me comments with more suggestions!

Thanks.

Love, Herbert.

One Month's Notice

I just gave my one month's notice at my job here.

Initial thoughts:

• I'm hungry
• What the crap am I going to do now
• I hope that by being off of work I don't get my days and nights backward again
• As much as I have a love/hate relationship with my job and place of work, I think I might actually miss it, in a really anal-retentive way. I've gotten used to the routine and redundancy of it...it's familiar and I know what I'm doing and know how to do it well.
• My boss was really really nice about me leaving and said although she doesn't want to see me go that she thinks I'm doing the right thing and that I'll always have a place here
• I don't think it will really sink in for another month; I don't feel that different
• I'm going to have to get all my personal crap off this computer; especially those nudey pics!
• I've left a BIG pile of "mail to cancel" for whoever replaces me
• OOOOOOO THERE ARE CUTE LANDSCAPING BOYS OUTSIDE!!! God bless these huge windows in reception!
• Can't think...still watching cute boys...
• I hope I'm doing the right thing
• What will I do with all this useless knowledge in my head?

One thought this whole quitting thing keeps bringing to mind is what in the world do people DO? It's brought out this whole philosophical debate in me! And I can't help but wonder...what is the point in anything at all? We work and work to keep the world turning and running, but why? Just to stay alive? Why do we want to stay alive aside from a biological instinct to? I just don't see the big point in everything...does that make sense at all? We procreate so that our children can do the same thing...we toil around and work jobs to sustain us to do...what? To watch tv in our spare time and then retire when we have enough money? Is happiness really the point of life like so many people claim? Sucking up every enjoyable thing out of life because nothing else matters? I can't accept that. There has to be something more. I just have no idea what it is. And therefore no idea what I'm going to do when I'm done my job. One thing I do know; I'll probably have the money to do whatever it is. Which makes me temporarily happy.

If anybody knows what life is all about, please let me know...cause I'm drawing a blank. Thanks. Word.

Back to pointless work.

A Quick Update

It's been awhile. Let's get caught up:

• My parents have been away for three weeks on a meditteranean cruise. The only time I talked to them was when my dad called into work to talk to someone besides me and I answered the phone. I was excited at the prospect of having to do my own cooking, cleaning and laundry, but the novelty of independence wore off within the first week.
• I bought The Office (American version) Season 1 on DVD. My life is now complete.
• I'm still miserable at my job but some added attention from my supervisor and having some major problems get solved and transfering some of my workload to the people who are actually supposed to be doing it has helped a lot.
• I'm going to see the Arctic Monkeys again tomorrow night (sold out show, woot!) AND possibly stopping by the national tattoo exhibition.
• Yesterday at work I found a file called "Duck Face" in the accounts payable folder on the accounting drive. I found this...well...very humourous.
• Yesterday I thought up two lines that I find amusing: "You're not an idiot you retard" (directed at my lovely friend Kali) and "I don't have to insult your intelligence; you do a good enough job at that yourself." I'm s-m-r-t.
• I still like stuff
• My brother got married to the lovely Larissa. They are happy, we are all happy and no she is not pregnant. Pictures to come.

That's all for now...as you were.

The Work Christmas Party

I felt bad for the dj...I think people danced to maybe five songs he played. Evidently people at my work would much rather sit around at their tables looking bored than make an effort to have an enjoyable time.

Highlights include:

• Getting drunk in front of my parents
• Keeping my friend in check who had a bit too much...
• Winning a bottle of Jack Daniels, playing cards and dice
• Trying to dance in a tight long skirt and three inch heels while everyone else who was too lazy to dance takes pictures of the idiots trying to dance
• Accusing the bar tender of cunningly placing the mistletoe above the bar so he could get some action
• The DJ and I kept looking at each other (we were doing the flirting without talking thing. I'm so forward I am! I eventually went to talk to him...)
• My mom coming up and trying to talk with me and the guy I was flirting with. She really thought there was nothing wrong with this. "Mom...I love you...go away."
• Watching my parents FAST dance...a sight I have never seen, and don't wish to see ever again
• Being the most dressed up person there (IDA YOU PROMISED TO WEAR A SKIRT YOU LIAR!) but really not minding it...
• Having five minutes to do my hair and actually being able to make it look fancy and good for once...I SUCK at doing hair...
• Eating the salads of both the people who sat to my left and my right. And my own.
• Almost getting into an argument with my boss about capitalism
• Finding a wine I can actually drink without making a face
• I just remembered I forgot to tip the bar tender...but we had drink tickets AND drinks were $5.00!! Come ON!!
• Dripping ketchup on my breast by accident, and then trying to look nonchalent as I wiped it off
• Myles: "I'm Irish!" Me: "That's your answer for everything!"
• Selling the pointsetta I won to Myles for $10. Feeling bad that I kept it even though he wouldn't take it back.
• Hearing my boss tell a story how he and the cleaning guy got drunk after hours once
• Accidentally overhearing my dad bragging about me. Then accidentally hearing how he thought I wouldn't be able to win Canadian Idol but that I would do well in it. (Thanks daddy)
• Michelle taking someone else's wine from their table cause we ran out
• Michelle loading me up with drink tickets (How did she get so many extra??)

That's all I can remember, although that's probably cause I killed a few brain cells that night.

All in all, it was some good times. I requested that we have one every week. Then again, I also requested open bar and ketchup at my table and that didn't happen...

Road Rage; This Commute Is Going To Kill Me

Everytime my dad goes away on business (which is quite often) I am left to drive in to work by myself. (For those of you who don't know, we work at the same company). He's in Puerto Rico right now, so instead of sleeping on the way in and only having to contend with traffic driving home, I have to drug myself up on caffeine and try to stay awake for the commute both ways.

On the way in to work today I passed asshole after asshole after asshole, excuse my english. Honestly. If you have seen my website you will be familiar with what I refer to as a left lane clinger and a left lane ignoramous. They dominated the highway today to the point where I wished my car was a bumper car and I could just slam them off the road...in a loving Christian way of course. OR I thought of a huge giant mechanical arm attached to my car picking up the cars in front of me and placing them conveniently to the side. I should look into that.

Anyway, these are the cars that go in the passing lane at 110 km. Sure, it's speeding, but compared to highway traffic this speed is incredibly slow!!! You can drive JUST AS SLOW in the right lane which is PASSING you! But nooooo people INSIST on not being courteous drivers, subsequently holding up traffic and causing mini traffic jams. One guy I had to pass in the right lane had the nerve to flash his highbeams at me. Hey, I'm not the one being an asshole here! I innocently motioned that he should move into the right lane. Ok it wasn't quite innocently and was filled with some vulgar language on my part...and perhaps on his, I couldn't quite read his lips.

Why do people do this?? Honestly...all the way to work...one after the other...I'm not exagerating...is there some sense of shame in moving over to let people pass? Some stubborn arrogance that keeps them in the passing lane? Are we not taught in driving school to stay in the right lane unless we're passing? You may be thinking I am hypocritical in this thinking...I beg to differ. If I am going 140 and someone obviously wants to pass me, and there are no cars in front of me which would therefore make me impeding traffic, I move over and let the car pass. Should he be driving that fast? Probably not. But who am I to enforce what I think the appropriate speed should be by not letting him pass? I say let the idiots pass...let them get in accidents with other cars and not with you. I don't know why more people do not have this mentality.

I was honestly getting visions of bribing driving schools and the police to start teaching/enforcing letting people pass. If cops could ticket people that do this...well...that would make me that hap-diddly-apiest commuter in the world. Haha, I read that over as happiest computer...dear gawd...it's early.

My original point was supposed to be the effect this has on me. ie, I have chest pains right now. It's too stressful. Self induced? Maybe. Some days are fine. I suppose it depends the amount of assholes on the road or not. I won't even bother telling yesterday's story of the asshole who was flashing his highbeams at me and motioning WITH BOTH HANDS (steering wheel?) to move over. This guy was insane. I was three meters away from the next car in front of me, if I moved over he would have nowhere to go anyway. He tailed me like there was no tomorrow till finally steering around the traffic to the right and ending up two cars in front of me before getting stuck again. Way to go asshole...you get a grand gold asshole star. Ok I lied apparently I am telling the story of yesterday.

Ok time to get stressed more and start work. To all you bad drivers out there; I hate you.

How You Can Haunt Me After I Quit

Here are some things that, upon leaving my company, I never want to hear again:

• timecard
• spreadsheet
• extension
• purchase order
• invoice number/date
• ”May I speak to the person in charge of…”
• WIP Report
• Can you page Paul?
• Can you tell him that _____ called? (That’s why we have VOICEMAIL jerk! I’m a receptionist, not a secretary!)
• Accounting Code
• syacc
• reception/accounting/management drive
• commute
• "tucka tucka tucka tucka tucka" Purchasing guy always comes into reception saying that...

Here are some things that I never want to see again:

• fedex waybills
• a telephone switchboard
• a NG on a fax transmission page
• a metered mail machine
• a commercial invoice

I could go on, but I’ll post for now and just keeping adding on and on until it consumes my entire blog……

Goin' Postal

So I had to go to the post office today for work. As I’m standing in line with my arm load of heavy parcels, I glance around and take in my surroundings, as one usually does when they are waiting for something. I notice there is a cart in the aisle between the two mail outlets. The cart has a bin full of boxes in it. One box is smaller than the rest and is sitting upon a bigger box. The guy infront of me, who is next in line, all of a sudden walks up to said box, and tries putting it in elsewhere in the bin to fit it in.
Now my first impression here is, ok, this guy must work for the post office and I only thought he was standing in line. No, sure enough, when it is his turn, he goes up and mails his parcel like everybody else. Now, this wasn’t just helpfully placing a fallen box back where it belongs…this was full out out trying to jam the damn thing in the bin whether it wanted to fit or not.
Does this strike anybody else as odd?? Could he not be charged with tampering with mail?? Who takes it upon themselves to do something like that?? I thought I was the only one obsessive compulsive enough to have to move something so that it fits nicely in place!

"This is my fake phone voice. How may I direct your call?"

I work right now as a receptionist. As such, certain perks and quirks come with the job. For example, when my daily FedEx courier showed up 45 minutes after we closed, I wrote a strongly worded email and received a free gift basket with lots of chocolate. When Staples messed up my order, they sent me a luggage set. When telemarketers call, I get to mess with their heads. “No I’m sorry…she killed herself…it was because she couldn’t find a good office supplies company…if only you had called sooner…”

I also notice quirky things that many other people wouldn’t notice unless you were in my job. Most of these things drive me nuts. For example, when solicitors walk past not one, but TWO “No Soliciting” signs to my desk and ask to speak to the person in charge of…blah blah blah. As soon as you hear “the person in charge of” you know they have no right to be there. One I’ve been noticing lately is how oddly people speak when they phone somebody.

"Good afternoon, Labcoat Technologies?"

• “May I please speak to the employee Bob Freeman?”
  I'm just curious really…did you REALLY need to specify “the employee”? Who did you think I was going to transfer you to? The elephant Bob Freeman?? The non-employee Bob Freeman??
  
• "Yes, hi, how are you *no pause*, yes, may I please speak to…*shuffling of papers* ummm let’s see here….uhhh…..”
  Good idea to know who you are calling BEFORE you pick up the phone.
  
• "Hi yes, I was wondering if I may have the extension of Mr. Kerry Anderson, I believe his extension is…235?”
  Ok…first of all…I can’t GIVE you the extension, that would require you physically being here. Second of all, I work in a small company and know every extension off by heart…you really don’t have to give me a name AND the extension…but thanks for trying to help me out with my job.
  
• "Hi, how are you today??”
  9 times out of 10, it is a telemarketer. Revert to “I don’t speak english” mode.

HOLY CRAP MY STAPLER JUST MOVED BY ITSELF…I SWEAR IT DID…maybe I should finish my work.

In conclusion, if you are calling a business, A) always know the name of the person you are calling BEFORE you call them and B) say please and thank you. I usually wait a half second before transferring to see if there is a thank you after I say “Yes, one moment please”. C) If you can’t pronounce a hard to pronounce last name, don’t try to sound it out and butcher it…D) Ok I lied, there isn’t a D.

If you are a telemarketer reading this, die in hell.

That is all.