One of the things I like best about my job, aside from the low pay, is the opportunity to work alongside shiftless wastes of space. It's a god damn human buffet of loserdom. And hey, I throw myself in that mix as well; I do work there, after all.
But at least I try to do my job, and at least I know my cock from a can of Spam. That can't be said of some people who work there. So, because some people can't perform tasks a trained seal would do in exchange for a fish, we had to have individual meetings with the store manager. Yipp-cunting-eee!
Please, reduce my pay; there's a seventeen-year-old on work-release from Juvee lockup who mans the mop at a peak show who makes less than I do, and I think there's a dignity in being the lowest-paid human in any developed country. Make me wear a neon Sombrero or a velvet gimp suit. Kick me in the groin, unannounced, once a day. JUST DON'T MAKE ME LISTEN TO CORPORATESPEAK FOR THIRTY MINUTES!! I can't stand rah-rah company bullshit and I can't stand arbitrary rules and regulations that lump me in with mouth-breathers who need to be issued industrial-strength drool cups.
For example, because some people do NOTHING all day, I have to put all of my daily "accomplishments" in writing. Because some people eat sloppy joes or meatballs and spaghetti in front of customers, I can no longer have a soft drink when I'm stocking. Well, fuck that shit; they can fire me if they want. If I'm thirsty I will be drinking something. I'm sure management keeps hydrated to facilitate their arduous schedule of sitting on their asses all day, so I'll be dipped in fuck-juice if they think I'm going to work while parched.
This seems to be the standard corporate manifesto: "We are going to pay you as low a wage as is humanly possible. We will tease you with hopes of a miniscule raise. You can't work overtime as a rule, but if someone calls in sick we'll be happy to let you work his shift, and then cut your hours later in the week. We'll post Sunday's schedule on Friday, but if you want a specific day off we'll need two weeks notice." Oh, it goes on, but if I continue my heart will implode from pure hatred.
And god forbid if you don't have a smile plastered on your face while eating their turd sandwich. Take this corporate cock up your bleeding ass and ask for more, peon!
There are bigger scum than the people who run my company, though. For example, Tower Records recently went bankrupt and was put up for auction. It was bought by a liquidating company who will sell all of Tower's stock and close their doors for good. Holy shit, you have to be a horrid soulless motherfucker to make your living as a cocksucking liquidator. Imagine profiteering as a scavenger of human failure; as a bone-picking vulture in a blue suit. Please God, let these people die penniless in the gutter, face down in a puddle of vagrant piss. And if you'd like to smite their family and friends, knock Yourself out.
Hey, everyone have a great day. And do yourself a favor: Take an extra long coffee break today. The people you work for most likely don't care if you live or die.
But at least I try to do my job, and at least I know my cock from a can of Spam. That can't be said of some people who work there. So, because some people can't perform tasks a trained seal would do in exchange for a fish, we had to have individual meetings with the store manager. Yipp-cunting-eee!
Please, reduce my pay; there's a seventeen-year-old on work-release from Juvee lockup who mans the mop at a peak show who makes less than I do, and I think there's a dignity in being the lowest-paid human in any developed country. Make me wear a neon Sombrero or a velvet gimp suit. Kick me in the groin, unannounced, once a day. JUST DON'T MAKE ME LISTEN TO CORPORATESPEAK FOR THIRTY MINUTES!! I can't stand rah-rah company bullshit and I can't stand arbitrary rules and regulations that lump me in with mouth-breathers who need to be issued industrial-strength drool cups.
For example, because some people do NOTHING all day, I have to put all of my daily "accomplishments" in writing. Because some people eat sloppy joes or meatballs and spaghetti in front of customers, I can no longer have a soft drink when I'm stocking. Well, fuck that shit; they can fire me if they want. If I'm thirsty I will be drinking something. I'm sure management keeps hydrated to facilitate their arduous schedule of sitting on their asses all day, so I'll be dipped in fuck-juice if they think I'm going to work while parched.
This seems to be the standard corporate manifesto: "We are going to pay you as low a wage as is humanly possible. We will tease you with hopes of a miniscule raise. You can't work overtime as a rule, but if someone calls in sick we'll be happy to let you work his shift, and then cut your hours later in the week. We'll post Sunday's schedule on Friday, but if you want a specific day off we'll need two weeks notice." Oh, it goes on, but if I continue my heart will implode from pure hatred.
And god forbid if you don't have a smile plastered on your face while eating their turd sandwich. Take this corporate cock up your bleeding ass and ask for more, peon!
There are bigger scum than the people who run my company, though. For example, Tower Records recently went bankrupt and was put up for auction. It was bought by a liquidating company who will sell all of Tower's stock and close their doors for good. Holy shit, you have to be a horrid soulless motherfucker to make your living as a cocksucking liquidator. Imagine profiteering as a scavenger of human failure; as a bone-picking vulture in a blue suit. Please God, let these people die penniless in the gutter, face down in a puddle of vagrant piss. And if you'd like to smite their family and friends, knock Yourself out.
Hey, everyone have a great day. And do yourself a favor: Take an extra long coffee break today. The people you work for most likely don't care if you live or die.
19 Comments:
Yeah, I was thinking about re-entering the workforce.
Now, not so much. Thanks for saving me from myself. I'm going to eat a doughnut, and no one can stop me!
I think I'll be going against the grain by saying I actually like my job. I get free stuff all the time. I just don't like the people I work with. Wait does that mean I don't like my job?
Thirty minutes of corporatespeak is deadly. There should be a HazMat warning issued at the beginning of every "team meeting".
i love the way you express yourself!! i think our marriage will survive ;-)
What a great message for National Bosses Day!
WOW!! You need a massage and a blow job. I heart you!
my good friend worked at tower, in the main office,. she had a job thursday, where she worked through the weekend helping to pack up, and then by monday she was unemployed.
no notice, no real severence. she got a fraction of her vacation pay.
(also your job sucks and i hate them.)
If you worked for me, I'd let you have 1 hour lunches, 2 hour siestas, 1 month of vacation per year, a beer hat to be worn while working, and free blowjobs. Provided, of course, that you adopt the company uniform: no shirt and boxers.
I've been in the corporate world and hopefully will not have to return.
Pissed off Toddy is kind of sexy (nudge nudge wink wink). Would you like to be my pool boy? Does it matter that I don't have a pool?
Just don't drink the purple Kool-Aid.
Not only should you drink a damn Coke if you're thirsty while stocking, you should do it from one of those awesome two-can beer hat thingies. You know, the ones with the bong tubes trailing down to your mouth. Ooh! And make really loud slurping noises every time a member of the Gestapo walks by on his/her way to the office.
You are slightly incorrect. The people we work for care that we not die on the job. That would be troublesome.
it sounds like Todds needs a BIG HUG...
big squidgy hugs and many millions of hot wet kisses!
I admire you for being so forthright and funny. I admire, most of all, your desire to stick it to the man by taking extra long coffee breaks.
The irony is not lost on me, dear Todd.
olga,
I can eat ANYTHING?
steph,
don't you live in Australia? I'll move there and work for you if you promise to sexually harrass me.
nick,
you get free blowjobs by reading this blog? UNFAIR! I write it and get NOTHING.
ubie,
it must be nice to be able to behave as an adult.
anathema,
it just means you hate part of your job.
monkey,
when I worked at Organized Living, the manager's meeting was held on my day off. I had to come in for an hour to listen to the Ya Ya Sisterhood blather on and on about nothing.
sonrisa,
I know our marriage will survive. I can't wait for the courtship to begin.
flounder,
I liked my boss in Las Vegas. I still speak to him by phone. No, I'm not sorry I left, because he just quit for a different job.
tumbleweed,
if you provide the blowjob I'll let you take a pass on the massage.
kendra,
the company that owns Sam Goody bid 500,000 less than the liquidators. They would have kept a lot of the Tower Stores open, but the bankruptcy judge decided all of those jobs were worth less than half a million. And thank you for hating them for me.
violet,
I haven't looked good shirtless since, well, age eight. How about a black t-shirt and boxers?
little ol',
I'll be your pool boy; your pissed off pool boy if that's what you want. Does your husband travel a lot?
nick,
if you are suggesting that I, as a man, give you blowjobs, that kind of makes you gay.
brooke,
I would for an extra buck an hour.
john,
that would be a great idea; only instead of coke I could fill the cans with bourbon.
monkey,
you're right. The paperwork and red tape would be a bitch. Once at OL a pallet of merchandise fell on one of our stock people. I spent the whole day filling out forms.
tlsd,
oh, I need a hug like nobody's business.
fritz,
you know who benefits from the long coffee breaks? Starbucks.
Bad day pop tart?
Whoa, Todd. I feel your pain.
"Kind of" ??
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