Category: Office

Really? No, Really?

Sales are contingent upon the attitude of the salesman – not the attitude of the prospect.
– W. Clement Stone

Dear Salesperson Who Thinks You Are Clever,

You’re not.  You are approximately the four hundred twenty-seventh person this week to try to get access to an administrator by claiming to be a close personal friend.  I am not quite an idiot, thank you, and I have heard every single one of the techniques you will try to get around me.

“He’ll see me, he asked me to come in,” you say.
I doubt that, since he’s been on vacation most of this week and plans on being out of the office for a good chunk of the next as well.

“He’s a very old friend of mine, but I don’t know how to get in touch with him,” you try next.
That’s funny.  I’ve got phone numbers, email, blogs, Facebook, googling, and any number of ways to get in touch with my “very old friends.”

“Don’t you know who I am?!” you cry in desperation.
No.  And since it’s my job to most relevant people, that ought to tell you something.

See, Small Dog may be a minor secretary way down on the totem pole, but she’s good at her job.  And it would take a far cleverer salesman than you to get past the gates.  You may leave your card and contact information like everybody else.

Have a nice day.

– C.

Correction! Very, Very Dinted!

“Getting an inch of snow is like winning 10 cents in the lottery.”
– Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson

For the love of chocolate, kittens! Yesterday there was a lovely covering of white muffling everything. Today there is a sprawling death trap of white, hell bent on destroying your elders and devouring your young! J. had to dig out our car this morning and I was over half an hour late because we could only move at a crawl through unploughed streets. Wise was an hour late. Lots of people still haven’t showed up, several probably just won’t. Cars are getting stuck all over the place.

In spite of the weather we are throwing Wise’s baby shower today, but if it keeps coming down, I wouldn’t be surprised if the administration orders people home early.

The practical upshot in this mess is that trying to climb in the car from the wrong side, carrying Christmas presents and baby shower gifts, using my heels as ice picks for traction, and J. having to drop me off in the middle of a parking lot to wade through a foot of snow and slush…means that I finally got up the gumption to buy a decent pair of boots.

Dating Advice

Your girlfriend, huh? Funny. She said otherwise.

Our department has quite the accumulated dating history and insight.  Between the roller coaster romances of our student employees and the dozens of people we caution, cite, and arrest for stalking, we are connoisseurs of crazy love.  Here’s some wisdom gleaned in the last two weeks.

(Discussing when to make a move to hold a girl’s hand)
Bebe: You just have to feel her vibe.  If she wants you to hold her hand or kiss you, she’ll let you know.
Stuckford: Her vibe, huh?
Bebe: Yeah.  Feel her vibe.
C.: Just, ah, don’t feel anything else!

(Know the correct name for foreign foods you intend to order.  For example, when desiring polenta do not say…)
Random girl one of our officers went out with: I like Italian food.  I’ll have the placenta.

And finally, if you’re married, don’t ask out one of your co-workers!  Trust me, that news will travel
Michael: Yeah…the bishop’s going to have something to say about that.
C.: …And God. 
Daisy: Well, I hit him on the head with a book and said “Begone!”  It worked.

Best Dressed

“If you go to a costume party at your boss’s house, wouldn’t you think a good costume would be to dress up like the boss’s wife? Trust me, it’s not.”
– Jack Handy

Costume time!

One fifties girl, a teacher/maiden aunt, two babies, Spiderman, and Liz Lemmon.
An Identity Crisis (note: HAHAHAHA!)
A costume from Pakistan, Identity Crisis (again, because I think it's hilarious), and yours truly as Joan Holloway!

So far we have also seen, two Avatar people (the blue ones), one Lord Voldemort, and several Waldos (as “Where’s…”).  Also a green plastic army guy, a BP oil spill, and the entire Monty Python crew.

And, speaking of clothes, the winner of our giveaway is…

Amanda who said her favorite thing about herself was: “my skin tone. I’m extremely white, but I’ve got enough on my mom’s olive hues to pull off pretty much any hair color. And changing up the hair is fun stuff.”

Congratulations Amanda!  I’ll be contacting you to ship your prize to you!

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

“It occurred to me that my speech or my silence, indeed any action of mine, would be a mere futility.”
– Joseph Conrad

I was given a project today.  One that I’m still trying to make sense of.  It can best be summarized by my puzzled response to Lt. Figaro when he gave it to me.  At the time of assignment, Susie’s and my eyebrows were having a contest to see whose could climb higher.

“So you want me to run reports.”
“Yes.”
“From a database I don’t have access to, using a program that hasn’t worked form months, to organize information that no one can find, with query requests that don’t exist.”
“Yes.”

*Thunk* *Thunk* *Thunk*

How Weird is My Job…

“Hi, this is [ahem] from the History department.  We’ve just received a package that appears to contain a human skull.  Could you send someone over, please?”
– [ahem] from History department

See above.

Truly, your timing with over commercialized holidays is uncanny!

We sent over an officer half expecting to uncover a Halloween decoration with “Made in China” stamped merrily across it.  Imagine our surprise then when he carted back a box containing two and half genuine human noggins!  Look to be Native American remains, they’re trying to trace them now.  Naturally the desecration of human bodies and disturbing of Indian remains is both illegal and (especially at this time of year) liable to open portals into the nether world, but sue me, I’m thrilled.  I dashed back to the patrol room, slapped on a pair of plastic gloves, and got to handle them under the officer’s watchful eye.  It’s the most interesting thing that’s happened in a couple of weeks!  And if I drop dead in the near future, you can snuff it up to an ancient curse.

In less bizarre but equally exciting news, poodles, come back tomorrow for an exciting new giveaway!

 

Curious?

 

Note: the prize will not include federally protected remains, items, artwork, etc.  Apologies in advance for any disappointment.

The Scottish Play

“It’s like saying ‘Macbeth’ in the theatre!”
– Grey’s Anatomy

Surviving in the corporate world, even on the rather planktonian level of a University police office, requires certain precautions of the supernatural variety.  Whether by occult design or unnatural happenstance, bad things often happen in threes.   Whenever one needs a large print job, an obligatory sacrifice of small animals/Freshmen is usually necessary to get its resident poltergeist to permit the entire project to come out unscathed.   When discussing hypothetical future events, it is absolutely necessary to pound, not simply knock, on wood to ensure that nothing will hex your efforts.

And you must never, under any circumstances, ever make the fatal mistake of saying that the office is “quiet.”  It matters not if it’s dull as tombs, to draw attention to any dearth of activity is to invoke the wrath of the Office Gods who delight in punishing mortals.  The moment you mention that you haven’t enough to do, that no one has come to the front desk in some weeks, or that the phone hasn’t even rung in approximately 400 years…le deluge.

Cars start colliding, thieves pour from the shadows and swipe everything in sight, power lines go down and tornadoes spin up.

Friday I made the classic error.  Hennessy and I were comparing late afternoon notes on our days when I confessed that the office was dead.

C. you IDIOT!

Immediately bellows erupted from Lt. Figaro’s office and echoed down the hall as he and a patron got into it a bit over the phone.  And mere moments after that a young lady appeared, asking one of the officers to do something to a report (I didn’t hear precisely what, but it seemed she wished to come off sounding better than she felt the report currently did).  She was instantly and brusquely informed that no such change would be made and was bid a stern good day and exited snarling.  Every phone in the office started ringing.  Lt. Figaro finally hung up on his frothing foe and stormed out to raise havoc in the patrol room.

Seeing that she was next in line for a lashing, I quietly suggested to Hennessy that she and I extricate ourselves from the situation my tongue had foolishly caused.  We escaped to do the laundry run.

Hand Me My Blankie and Teddy Bear

“There is more refreshment and stimulation in a nap, even of the briefest, than in all the alcohol ever distilled.”
– Ovid

Riddle me this!  It’s barely Wednesday  and Hennessy and I have already caught two separate people napping at their desks so far this week.

Now, pumpkins, what do you think would happen if either she or I tried that?

Say What?

“The cat likes overhearing children stories.”
– Amelie (2001)

Let's listen in, shall we?

Working at University Police Department, one overhears things.  And if one is like me, with the unnatural ability to tune into conversations at the oddest, most embarrassing, or just when it’s heading for the HR office reportable. one overhears too much.

Can you guess the context of what was overheard this week?

“I need to go put a shirt on.”
A) Lt. Colossus gets in from his shift at Chippendales
B) A load of pasta had spilled down Lt. Figaro’s best uniform
C) A student officer, forced to strip when he got soaked in a downpour, relates his frustration

“She was the least flexible woman I’ve ever done!”
A) Wise relates a tale from her pregnancy yoga class
B) Lt. Citrus accidentally lets slip an insight to his scandal ridden past
C) Officer Lampost fingerprints an octogenarian

“Wow, I’ve never seen you in clothes!”
A) Bebe reveals her scandalous affair, HR is called
B) Bebe reveals her propensity to visit Chippendales (see Number 1)
C) Bebe embarrasses an officer when we get a rare glimpse of him in street clothes

“Have you ever been jogging with fireflies.  Magical!
A) A student officer is on drugs
B) A student officer is severely concussed
C) Hell if we know…

“Yum…strawberry!”
A) A student officer is on drugs, again
B) A student officer ate a whole bag of Jolly Ranchers and is vibrating from a sugar high
C) …???

Code
The answers are all “C”
1-2 correct: you’ve a filthy mind
3-4 correct: you’ve a boring mind
5 correct: cheater!

The Annual Anti-Harassment Seminar, As Told by C.

“Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other.  Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.”
~ Katharine Hepburn

Yesterday, under orders from the University, the entire department attended an anti-harassment seminar.  It didn’t go as well as could have been desired.

The officers, muttering something about cooties, grudgingly trotted off and about an hour later office personnel followed.  When the secretaries entered, a collective groan went up as the men were forced to put away their Vargas posters and NSFW magazines.

The presenter stood up, closing her ears when an unnamed person muttered something about “having to listen to this broad for an hour,” and put on a cheerful face.
“I’m here to talk to you all today about unacceptable behaviors at work.  Luckily there are no [censored slur] here, so this should be easy.”

Things rapidly devolved from there.

“The protected categories of personal traits are sex, gender, religious affinity, color, genetic information, age, and -”
“What’s the difference between sex and gender?” yelled out someone.  “I mean, besides who you’re allowed to hit on?”

Musical Theatre, as seen by some seminar attendees.

“One is your actual sex, male or female.  The other refers to expectations or traits of your sex.  For example, ridiculing a woman for trying to tackle something obviously beyond her scope, like chemistry.  Or a man for studying something that we can use to determine his sexual orientation, like musical theatre.”

“I’m a musical theatre major,” injected one student from the back of the conference room.
“Oooh, look at him,” cooed some of his compatriots flapping their wrists at him and beginning to make obscene personal remarks.
“Then why don’t you put on a skirt and wash something,” yelled a sergeant, diminutive in size anxious to fit in the Boys Club.

You're a girl!

C., enraged at the slur on A) skirts and B) laundry duties, leaped to her feet, climbed up over the seats and delivered a long and inventoried tirade abusing the sergeant’s personal hygiene and evolutionary history.  Hennessy, attempting to restrain her friend, tried to mitigate matters until a student officer told her to “shut up, quit working, and stay at home like she was supposed to.”  Whereupon both Hennessy and C. launched themselves at the student and his companions and frightful blows were exchanged.

“Women can work,” Chief hurried to scream into the fray, trying to calm everyone down, “unless they become pregnant!”
Excuse me?” bellowed Wise planting her hands on her growing stomach to brace for impact before she barreled him over.  Rounding on the company she roared, “Who’s next, you bunch of communists?!”
Susie demanded, “Who’s the commie pig?” whipped off her heels and began stabbing anyone in her way with stilettos

I'll save you, helpless maiden! (or) I'll kill you, helpless maiden!

While this was going on, both a male and female officer had taken refuge under the stage.  “Good thing we’re staying out of it,” said the male officer to a female, nudging her arm conspiratorially.
“Molester!” she screamed and dragged her surprised, hapless victim out where he was quickly devoured by a herd of bloodthirsty traffic clerks.

From the podium, the presenter tried to beat off a student officer with a propensity to stalking with a chair, yelling “Fire!” to make someone pay attention to her plight.
“I thought,” shouted Chief from where he was wrestling with a young female worker who was trying to get him in a compromising position in order to sue the university, “you had to tell someone who – ow! – was annoying or offending you – let go of my leg! – to stop before you could take legal action.”
“Oh no!” responding the presenter, getting her assailant into a headlock, “A behavior doesn’t have to be acknowledged to be unwelcome.”
“Yeah!”  shouted Lt. Colossus, emerging from the brawl bloody but unbowed.  “Watch!”
He reached out to where Lauper was punching an officer and ridiculing him for impotence, slapped her on the bum and collapsed on the ground when she promptly kneed him in the groin.  She was then set upon by a small horde of police officers who beat her senseless, calling her (alternatively) Hindu, Sheik, Protestant, and a variation of African spiritualism  that the editors are not sure how to correctly spell.

Pictured: the seminar room, post seminar.

The brawl was not broken up until both dogs and firehoses were turned on the rampaging attendees.  At which time it was ascertained that four were dead, seven concussed, one was bleeding out, three had lost the ability to walk, and two the ability to reproduce.  Other casualties include a missing eye, several knocked out teeth and, to date, one marriage.  After mopping up the entrails, the mob was deposited at the university’s Equal Opportunity office where the presenter, ashamed that she let the meeting get so out of hand, apologized but was fired anyway because in the future, “keeping track of these [censored slur] would clearly be a man’s job.”

After a strict talking to, the rest of us were sent home with copies of “Men are from Neptune, Women are from Saturn’s Sixth Moon, Titan.”