mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Tales Of Others This is not my story. It's his but he's been too busy to write so I'm stealing it. The department Pete works in is looking to hire a new analyst. Their policy is to have all current employees review the resumes of the candidates and give their opinions on that candidate. So a resume was being passed about and by the time it reached my husband, everyone else had given their approval. Pete took one glance at the resume and recoiled in horror. "Did anyone notice this guys e-mail address," he asked incredulously. "It's [email protected]. Does this pose a problem for anyone besides me?" All of sudden, Jay, an eccentrically gay coworker of Pete's, who has made a big paper hat out of his desk calendar that he likes to put on and prance around chanting "I am the Pope and you can't fuck with the Pope" had an issue. Jay tends to really know how to make a scene and so it was that Mr. Down-For-Jesus-in-2003 (what is going to happen in 2004, I wonder) chances at employment were dashed. I have to say, unless you're applying to a church, you should probably get a less throw it in your face type of addy, something along the lines of [email protected]. Another work story that didn't happen to me. Last week, I called my dad at his office. My dad works for a madman, the kind only NYC (and some parts of Jersey) can create. He finds it perfectly appropriate to curse at staff, scream at potential clients, and throw fits in public places. He's also like 5'2" and about as round as tall. He could very easily be a character on the Sopranos. So as I'm speaking with my father there are numerous interruptions. My dad puts his phone down and yells a few times at various people. This is unlike my father. Finally, I ask what the deal is. Apparently, the idiot my father works for has banned one of his employees from coming into the office for the next three weeks. Why, you ask? Well the guy was in Toronto attending his daughters college graduation and the Big Bossman is convinced he must now be carrying SARS. He wants the guy to stay at home for three weeks with no pay and what's worse, he wants my dad to hire an armed guard to stand watch at the office building just in case this employee tries to get in. The employee in question has no symptoms of SARS. Ridiculous, eh? So my father, whose job actually has nothing to do with personnel (although as he likes to say "we have no Human Resources department because no humans work here") is busy screaming about how stupid the whole scenario is to anyone who will listen. Did I mention that when they were talking about the whole possibility of chemical warfare attacks a few months back, the Big Bossman made all the administrators get on the phone and find him space suits for himself and his family to wear so that they would be safe. He spent over $5000.00 per suit. My father has said that if there was a chemical attack and he was with the Bossman he'd simply inhale deeply because he'd rather be dead than left alone on this planet with only that asshole for company. 7:46 a.m. - 2003-04-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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