Dear reporter (who I wish I could name but can't because I want to stay employed),
I used to think you were cool. Seriously- not a lot of people get the 'cool' label in my book because in my line of work, not a lot of them seem human.
Yeah, I thought you were cool.
That is until you stood me and my client up for a briefing.
I asked you what time you would be available for this briefing. I ASKED YOU and then, even when I realized that I would have to get my ass up out of bed at 5:30am to be in the office by 6:30am to gear up for the call at 7am, I was fine with it.
My client, who lives and works on the other side of the planet, put this call on her schedule. I told you that it was nearly midnight her time so you knew. You knew what a pain in the ass it was going to be for the both of us to make this call.
So when you tell me, after the call time, after my client and I hang around and wait for you to dial in to the conference line I cleared for use, that you were "running late to the office" and missed the call- don't expect me to be all sunshine and giggles, okay?
First of all, who the hell strolls into the office at 10:00 am? That's not just running late, buddy. That's "Oh my God, I'm going to have diarhhea, I'm so effing late to work that it's not even funny, not even The Office would make an effing parody of this" late.
Also, I scheduled this briefing on Monday. Today is Wednesday. I don't know if you can do math, but that means you had two days to casually look at your calendar and realize that you had a call at 10am.
Maybe you were having a bad night last night and simply hit the snooze button one too many times this morning. Maybe you accidentally poked your eye out with a spork and had to run to the emergency room with the spork still embedded in the now empty socket that used to be occupied by your eyeball?
I don't care. You still suck.
This post would be much more eloquent and witty if I wasn't so goddamn TIRED AND SLEEPY.
Sincerely,
I want my frikin product back, you inconsiderate jerk.
P.S. Oh yeah, I saw your MySpace page. It sucks.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
More stupid statements- from New York!
Another lovely PR executive in NYC had these gems to offer. Some people say the darndest (read: stupidest) things.
Two cases of "WTF did you just say?" :
Client: Ok, so what are the next steps here?
Supervisor: Well, we will do a 180 and loop back with you to aggregate the seperate compontents into their own categories.
Expert: Looks fine. I made one change in the release on page 2, see the attachment. We shouldn’t tell people that the toilet is one of the safest places in the home; this is overstating what the data says. We really would not want people spending more time then they need to there.
Supervisor: That's a good change. Thanks.
-Signing off from Seattle/New York (we are now bi-coastal)
Two cases of "WTF did you just say?" :
Client: Ok, so what are the next steps here?
Supervisor: Well, we will do a 180 and loop back with you to aggregate the seperate compontents into their own categories.
----
Expert: Looks fine. I made one change in the release on page 2, see the attachment. We shouldn’t tell people that the toilet is one of the safest places in the home; this is overstating what the data says. We really would not want people spending more time then they need to there.
Supervisor: That's a good change. Thanks.
-Signing off from Seattle/New York (we are now bi-coastal)
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Don't Believe What Your Mother Told You...
Because there are such things as stupid questions.
For example.
Me: "Hi, I'm done with the award. If you want to look it over it's saved in the drive."
Supervisor: "Ok. Which folder is it saved in?"
Pause.
Me: "The awards folder."
*****
Back-to-back stupid questions.
Me: "If you could pull together a media list of people that focus on virtualization that would be great."
Newly promoted AAE: "Yeah, do you think we can get an intern to do that?"
Me: "Actually, it would be much faster if you could do that since you're familiar with the technology."
Newly promoted AAE: "So...um, yeah. Well, how would you suggest I go about doing that?"
*****
Stand alone stupid question.
AAE: "How do I log-on to Business Wire to queue that?"
*****
Completely and totally innocent stupid question.
Me: "We have such a breadth of technology clients here at *bleep.* So one of the challenges is being able to understand each client's technology in order to effectively pitch them."
Intern: "Oh, ok. So what, exactly, does *bleep* do?"
Blink. Blink, blink.
Me: "Uh, well, *bleep* is a PR agency....public relations..."
*****
Non-work related stupid question.
Receptionist: "We have an appointment for eleven o'clock open."
Me: "Great, eleven would be perfect."
Receptionist: "Ok, you're confirmed for eleven on the 17th. Would you mind coming in 30 minutes early?"
-Signing off from San Francisco
For example.
Me: "Hi, I'm done with the award. If you want to look it over it's saved in the drive."
Supervisor: "Ok. Which folder is it saved in?"
Pause.
Me: "The awards folder."
*****
Back-to-back stupid questions.
Me: "If you could pull together a media list of people that focus on virtualization that would be great."
Newly promoted AAE: "Yeah, do you think we can get an intern to do that?"
Me: "Actually, it would be much faster if you could do that since you're familiar with the technology."
Newly promoted AAE: "So...um, yeah. Well, how would you suggest I go about doing that?"
*****
Stand alone stupid question.
AAE: "How do I log-on to Business Wire to queue that?"
*****
Completely and totally innocent stupid question.
Me: "We have such a breadth of technology clients here at *bleep.* So one of the challenges is being able to understand each client's technology in order to effectively pitch them."
Intern: "Oh, ok. So what, exactly, does *bleep* do?"
Blink. Blink, blink.
Me: "Uh, well, *bleep* is a PR agency....public relations..."
*****
Non-work related stupid question.
Receptionist: "We have an appointment for eleven o'clock open."
Me: "Great, eleven would be perfect."
Receptionist: "Ok, you're confirmed for eleven on the 17th. Would you mind coming in 30 minutes early?"
-Signing off from San Francisco
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Price of a fan: $50. Price of clean air: Priceless.
A word or two about smells to working professionals everywhere.
Lunch:
So it's really important you have lunch away from your desk and/or work area as much as you can. Seriously, you work hard- take a break. You should eat your lunch in the kitchen or, if your company does not have a kitchen, outside in the nice, bright sun. Yes, bask in its life giving rays and contemplate the meaning of life while you munch on your curry chicken.
Do not eat lunch at your desk.
Do not eat lunch at your desk especially if you work in a cube or newsroom-setting where there are no walls to protect the innocent from the stench-emanating piece of steaming crap on your plate that you think is food but is really a rotting piece of whale flesh. Or at least smells like it.
I used to eat tuna sandwiches at my desk but I cut that shit out after a few weeks because my coworkers complained. Fine. Great. I did it out of respect to my colleague's olfactory sensibilities. But let's face it, tuna is a mild offender compared to, oh, I don't know, a bowl of vinegar!
(As I sit here writing this post, I can't help but wish I could walk over to the vineger offender and dump said bowl of vinegar over his or her head. I'm sure it isn't actually a bowl of vinegar but with all the weird fad diets out there today, it's in the realm of possibility. In any case, it smells positively foul.)
Herein lies my first tip of the day: If dogs howl, flowers die and wavy green lines hover above your food when you bring it out of the microwave, don't bring it back to your desk lest you risk the sound of gagging, and the eventual smell of vomit that will result from your actions.
Perfume/Cologne/Lotion:
There is a woman, who shall remain nameless, that uses a very pungent floral lotion. Lotions usually have a very mild smell- whether they smell of baked goods (my personal favorite), vanilla, flowers or fruits, they're usually appealing and harmless.
However, there are some lotions- and I'm grouping perfumes and colognes in this as well- that just make me want to rip off my nose and shove it down people's throats while I scream out, "Take it! You've ruined it forever!"
Isn't it enough I have to put up with the same people day-in and day-out for 8+ hours, 5 consecutive days out of the week? Do they really have to destroy my sense of smell too?
This woman's lotion smells, not of a singular flower- sweet and innocent- but of an entire fucking glade of flowers. Imagine plumeria shoved down your nostrils. Imagine the entire world, covered in plumeria, and the fumes being so strong as to have killed 99.9% of the population and all the dead plants are now potpurri and the remaining humans have to eat the dead, smelly, husks of flowers to survive.
Yeah, imagine that and you have now entered my world.
Her lotion is so strong that it doesn't last for just a few minutes. Not even for half an hour. No, folks, it lasts for HOURS. I don't know who makes this lotion but MY GOD, if they could somehow extract the potency and endurance of the smell and put it into foodstuff, world hunger would no longer exist.
I'm sure her lotion has directly affected sales of Excedrine because I have had so many migraines caused by the stench that I literally go through a bottle at a time when she slathers it on.
Herein lies my second tip of the day: If you see a coworker cringing or burst into tears when you bring out your bottle of lotion, or if you pass by someone on the street and they turn green and start hacking out a lung, it's sign that you stink. So cut that stinky shit out.
-Signing off in Seattle
Lunch:
So it's really important you have lunch away from your desk and/or work area as much as you can. Seriously, you work hard- take a break. You should eat your lunch in the kitchen or, if your company does not have a kitchen, outside in the nice, bright sun. Yes, bask in its life giving rays and contemplate the meaning of life while you munch on your curry chicken.
Do not eat lunch at your desk.
Do not eat lunch at your desk especially if you work in a cube or newsroom-setting where there are no walls to protect the innocent from the stench-emanating piece of steaming crap on your plate that you think is food but is really a rotting piece of whale flesh. Or at least smells like it.
I used to eat tuna sandwiches at my desk but I cut that shit out after a few weeks because my coworkers complained. Fine. Great. I did it out of respect to my colleague's olfactory sensibilities. But let's face it, tuna is a mild offender compared to, oh, I don't know, a bowl of vinegar!
(As I sit here writing this post, I can't help but wish I could walk over to the vineger offender and dump said bowl of vinegar over his or her head. I'm sure it isn't actually a bowl of vinegar but with all the weird fad diets out there today, it's in the realm of possibility. In any case, it smells positively foul.)
Herein lies my first tip of the day: If dogs howl, flowers die and wavy green lines hover above your food when you bring it out of the microwave, don't bring it back to your desk lest you risk the sound of gagging, and the eventual smell of vomit that will result from your actions.
Perfume/Cologne/Lotion:
There is a woman, who shall remain nameless, that uses a very pungent floral lotion. Lotions usually have a very mild smell- whether they smell of baked goods (my personal favorite), vanilla, flowers or fruits, they're usually appealing and harmless.
However, there are some lotions- and I'm grouping perfumes and colognes in this as well- that just make me want to rip off my nose and shove it down people's throats while I scream out, "Take it! You've ruined it forever!"
Isn't it enough I have to put up with the same people day-in and day-out for 8+ hours, 5 consecutive days out of the week? Do they really have to destroy my sense of smell too?
This woman's lotion smells, not of a singular flower- sweet and innocent- but of an entire fucking glade of flowers. Imagine plumeria shoved down your nostrils. Imagine the entire world, covered in plumeria, and the fumes being so strong as to have killed 99.9% of the population and all the dead plants are now potpurri and the remaining humans have to eat the dead, smelly, husks of flowers to survive.
Yeah, imagine that and you have now entered my world.
Her lotion is so strong that it doesn't last for just a few minutes. Not even for half an hour. No, folks, it lasts for HOURS. I don't know who makes this lotion but MY GOD, if they could somehow extract the potency and endurance of the smell and put it into foodstuff, world hunger would no longer exist.
I'm sure her lotion has directly affected sales of Excedrine because I have had so many migraines caused by the stench that I literally go through a bottle at a time when she slathers it on.
Herein lies my second tip of the day: If you see a coworker cringing or burst into tears when you bring out your bottle of lotion, or if you pass by someone on the street and they turn green and start hacking out a lung, it's sign that you stink. So cut that stinky shit out.
-Signing off in Seattle
Monday, April 2, 2007
'STEP DOWN!' Gettin' Off the MUNI
Things of relative interest I noted on my MUNI ride to work.
Salient avoidance of eye and body contact. Sunglasses on a non-sunny bus, iPods and the impressive ability to keep arms and legs tightly bound to the body - quite similar to that of a mummy.
Salient avoidance of eye and body contact. Sunglasses on a non-sunny bus, iPods and the impressive ability to keep arms and legs tightly bound to the body - quite similar to that of a mummy.
*****
On a similar note, men with sunglasses, blazers and jeans. For no apparent reason, this combination bothers me. I see them on the bus all the time, and call me persnickety, but I can't help but raise my eyebrow every time I see one.
*****
I saw a fully grown woman going to work toting a snoopy backpack. This made me smile. Very nice.
(And I'm not being sarcastic, for once.)
-Signing off from San Francisco
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Pass a Tissue, Please?
Wednesday, March 21. Lunch Time.
I figured I should mark this date so that this time next year I can be extra extra careful, because bad karma does strike in the same place twice.
The story begins when a colleague and I decide to go to CPK for lunch and a gab session. We cross the street and walk down an alley, ho humming along, when a woman that's passing us by literally (and I do mean literally) projectile vomits.
All over my face. In my hair. Down my back.
Now, I'm not sure what a normal reaction to something like this would be, but mine went something like, "FUCK. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, fucking, fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fucking, fuck fuck fuck, fuck, fucker. FUCKING, fuck."
My friend, who is more than several months pregnant, also got a decent amount of green matter sprayed across her as well, and I'm sure her upchuck reflexes were kicking in high gear. Fortunately, neither of us contributed to the heinous mess and were able to hold our own. Interestingly enough, my first millisecond thought, just as the vomit splattered across my face, was that this woman just threw a shake at me. I was about to be incensed to the tenth degree when I turn and see her vomit the rest of her bile infested lunch on the sidewalk. This was the same moment I realized what was all over my face and the freaking out ensued.
OK, again I realize this is an extremely unusual situation to come across and a little difficult to swallow, but if I saw two women, one pregnant, being barfed on I would set aside my disgust, hold in my chuckle, and fucking do something to offer some sort of help. Realizing no one was going to offer me a tissue, I saw I would have to fend for myself and used my jacket to wipe the nasty off my face. I then proceeded to stumble into a nail salon where I see a multitude of onlookers just sittin' pretty getting their nails done. Not a single person got up to help or offered a tissue, napkin or towel. Dumbfounded, I was.
What the fuck is wrong with people? If I could I would cue a lame Nickleback song.
-Signing off from San Francisco
I figured I should mark this date so that this time next year I can be extra extra careful, because bad karma does strike in the same place twice.
The story begins when a colleague and I decide to go to CPK for lunch and a gab session. We cross the street and walk down an alley, ho humming along, when a woman that's passing us by literally (and I do mean literally) projectile vomits.
All over my face. In my hair. Down my back.
Now, I'm not sure what a normal reaction to something like this would be, but mine went something like, "FUCK. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, fucking, fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fucking, fuck fuck fuck, fuck, fucker. FUCKING, fuck."
My friend, who is more than several months pregnant, also got a decent amount of green matter sprayed across her as well, and I'm sure her upchuck reflexes were kicking in high gear. Fortunately, neither of us contributed to the heinous mess and were able to hold our own. Interestingly enough, my first millisecond thought, just as the vomit splattered across my face, was that this woman just threw a shake at me. I was about to be incensed to the tenth degree when I turn and see her vomit the rest of her bile infested lunch on the sidewalk. This was the same moment I realized what was all over my face and the freaking out ensued.
OK, again I realize this is an extremely unusual situation to come across and a little difficult to swallow, but if I saw two women, one pregnant, being barfed on I would set aside my disgust, hold in my chuckle, and fucking do something to offer some sort of help. Realizing no one was going to offer me a tissue, I saw I would have to fend for myself and used my jacket to wipe the nasty off my face. I then proceeded to stumble into a nail salon where I see a multitude of onlookers just sittin' pretty getting their nails done. Not a single person got up to help or offered a tissue, napkin or towel. Dumbfounded, I was.
What the fuck is wrong with people? If I could I would cue a lame Nickleback song.
-Signing off from San Francisco
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
What the Fucker?
I think I'm fairly innocent. Meaning, I don't excessively drink, do drugs, smoke, steal, gamble, etc.
My one vice, however, is swearing. It's just a bad habit that I can't seem to break and only gets worse as my time here passes. A little slip of a "what the fuck" and "motherfucker" just can't be contained sometimes.
Unfortunately, as lax as my office is, it's apparently not lax enough for my mouth. A complaint had been submitted to HR and I was officially scolded regarding my "language."
Well, jeez. Do I feel sheepish.
-Signing off from San Francisco
My one vice, however, is swearing. It's just a bad habit that I can't seem to break and only gets worse as my time here passes. A little slip of a "what the fuck" and "motherfucker" just can't be contained sometimes.
Unfortunately, as lax as my office is, it's apparently not lax enough for my mouth. A complaint had been submitted to HR and I was officially scolded regarding my "language."
Well, jeez. Do I feel sheepish.
-Signing off from San Francisco
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