Friday, October 13, 2006

"Screw You Guys...I'm Goin' Home."

Only Eric Cartman can properly capture the sentiment that I would like to express to my co-workers at my present temp assignment. Although, many of the people who work here would be APALLED at my use of the term "CO-Worker" to describe my relationship to them, because that might just suggest I am “on their level,” which I’m pretty sure would insult them.

For instance, the executive assistant to the president and management team is especially pernicious. We are the same height; there all similarities END. She is at approximately 40% of my weight (soaking wet), and she’s nervous and high-strung enough that I bet if I snuck up and startled her she’d pee a little in her black knitted tights. She has a short, severe haircut that is black and spikey, and she wears trendy expensive cat-eye-frame glasses. And she slouches. She does not smile. Whenever I pass her I greet her and give a little grin, but she just glances over at me without smiling, then eyes forward and continues on her little quick march.

And dear lord, is she defensive!! Last week the office manager took a vaca-day on Friday, so I shot her and email saying, “Who’s coming in at 8?” (to cover the early a.m. reception desk time), and this was her response, which I have cut-and-pasted directly to this posting: “I guess I am...but it would be nice to know a couple days out, because let's say I have other plans or whatnot. I sometimes go to the gym during that time.” I was like, whatever! Did I imply that I wouldn’t do it? So I wrote back, “I didn't mean for that to sound like a passive suggestion. Would you prefer to cover the front desk for the morning hour, or the evening hour? Also, how does your afternoon look for break coverage?” Heaven forbid I should ask a direct question.

Did I mention that she is NOT HELPFUL? Jeezis Criminey, she will squirm and fuss her twiggy ass off to get out of doing anything for someone else. How she managed to be anyone’s “assistant” is completely beyond me. It’s probably a status thing; me being the junior admin assistant temp, it’s probably beneath her to do anything for me. Case in point: yesterday a contract employee called in from home asking me to grab some things from his office so a courier could pick them up right away. The office manager was out of the office smoking or something, so, as my last resort, I had to call her. I asked if she would go in the guy’s office and grab a couple things, or watch the desk so I could do it.

Twiggy: “Well, where’s T****?”
Ms. Piggy: “She’s stepped out, will you help me?”
Twiggy: “[Sigh] Yeah, quick”
Ms. Piggy: “Do you want to watch the desk, or run to M***’s office?”
Twiggy: “Just tell me what you need from his office.”
Ms. Piggy: “There is a FedEx bag of lab coats, and a box of videotapes that someone is coming to pick up.”
One minute later…[phone rings]
Twiggy: “I can’t find the box, which one are you talking about, I don’t know where it is.”
Ms. Piggy: “I don’t know what it looks like. It’s a box of video tapes and a bag with lab coats in it. I think he said the box is under his desk.”
Twiggy: “oh, here are the lab coats.” [pause] “I found the box. It’s too heavy for me, I’m not going to hurt myself bringing it out.”
Ms. Piggy: “I think there is a cart somewhere—“
Twiggy: “No, I’m not going to carry it out and hurt myself.”
Ms. Piggy: “I’m not asking you to carry it. I’m pretty sure there is a cart here somewhere.”
Twiggy: “Well, get T**** to do it, I can’t help you.”
[Click.]

She didn’t even grab the godamm lab coats while she was already in there looking at them! WTF? I got T**** to help me when she came back, and what she brought up to the desk was a 12”x12”x15” box that weighed as much as a bowling ball. You have GOT to be kidding me. Crazy bitch.

Then again, maybe it has something to do with her short hair. She’s so skinny, she probably can’t hold up a hair dryer long enough to style some long hair. And anyway, all that extra weight added to her disproportionately large head might crush her dainty little pencil neck. Me, I got no neck, and I’m pretty much built like a Sherman tank, so I forget that some of these dinky peanut-sized people are just for looks and have no function, like 7” spike heels or silicone breasts.

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