Category: Office

Top. Men.

“We have top men working on it right now.”
“Who?”
“Top men.”
– Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark

Pictured: a villain immediately preceeding his revalation of exactly how badly he has been behaving for the last hour and a half.

In almost every movie there is that incredibly silly moment when the villain is confronted with the fruits of his or her destruction and, looking over the rivers of lava/ looming black hole/ annihilation of an entire civilization/ etc., murmurs in despair, “My god, what have I done?!”

I had one of those moments today.  After getting all the archives into chronological order (which you’d think they’d already be in, right?  Hah!), tagging them by date, pulling original photos and making notes on when/where they originally occurred in print, and hauling it one massive armload at a time to the library, I asked for the archivist.  Student employees helped me carry the stacks of papers and binders and asked what I was doing.  I couldn’t very well shout, “Saving history!” in the library, so I quietly whispered the tale of the iniquitous order to dispose of fifty years of information.
“He told you to shred it!” one girl squeaked in horror.
“I know,” I squeaked back.

We were all awash with the enthusiasm of the young until the archivist appeared.  He looked like Eeyore the donkey in human form: droopy, awkward, exhausted, and less than thrilled to see me with my arms full of documents.
“Hi, I’m C. from the police department.  We talked on the phone and–”
“Oh, right,” he sighed, “Follow me.”

The whole cavalcade meandered down some halls and through secured doors…to a lonely room, lined with shelves and piled with papers.
“Here’s a project for you,” he mumbled to what appeared to be a heinously overworked student employee, and ordered us to drop the whole pile on her (already covered) desk.

My project is somewhere alongside the Ark, I'm sure.

Which is when I had my cinema-villain-is-confronted-by-what-she’s-done moment.  I’d committed the most rookie of cardinal sins: I’d just turned over fifty years of history to a bureaucracy!

I’ve gained all sorts of skills and experiences at this job, but law enforcement is not my calling, to say the least.  But history!  Oh, yes.  And this project is the first thing in over a year and a half that’s come close to the things I’ve studied and feel passionate about.   Certainly it’s the only thing that’s got me excited enough to annoy my co-workers with my near constant cries of, “Read this!”  And now, I’ve an awful premonition that my precious bundles are only going to slowly decompose in the bowels of the library.  There is no justice in the world.

It Was a Simpler Time

“All the ancient histories, as one of our wits say, are just fables that have been agreed upon.”
-Voltaire

Yesterday Lt. Citrus called me into his office and waved his hand at a pile of binders.  It was the media files archives of our department, newspaper clippings mostly, and it went back to 1960.
“We don’t need these anymore,” he said.  “Can you get rid of them and save the binders?”

?!?!?!?!

I stretched out my hands dumbly and let him plop a stack in my hands and then tottered back to my desk where I opened them up.

The Civil Rights movement, the Vietnam War, the first female officer to graduate from the state’s police academy…the earliest documented complaints about parking (an as yet unresolved problem!) when we had a fraction of the student number we do now…a completely unique perspective on the history of the campus was sitting on my desk and I was supposed to just shred it?!  Clearly they forgot I majored in history!

I begged off my other chores and began putting things in order.  I’ve spent the last day and a half scanning articles and photos that document the history of the department (beginning back when we had an ex-LA cop fish a bunch of wallets out of the campus pond and search for the owners, all the way to the 40+ full time, state-certified officers we have now along with nearly 200 student employees).  And come across some real gems!

Throw this stuff away.  Pfft!  I’m already in contact with the university archivist.

Showing off items abandoned in the Lost and Found. The one on the right kind of looks like Peggy Olson from Mad Men.
Contrary to popular belief, we neither live in Mayberry, nor whistle frequently.

Coming and Going

“Oh dear.  Hennessy and Vodka?  What sort of operation are we running here?”
“Clearly a P.A.R.T.Y.”
– C. and Sav

Vodka
From "The Capital L" - see Read Me for more details. She's cute, nyet?

The ever fabulous Savvy alerted me to the fact that I too have neglected to mention Daae’s replacement!  (Click link to meet our new friend)  Sav christened her Vodka, which is perfectly appropriate.  Although how so many liquor nicknames are sneaking into our lives is a bit beyond me…ahem…

In happier news, it would seem my Lord and Lady Stompington may have moved out!  Building gossip suggests it, and the unnatural quiet we’ve been enjoying seconds the idea, but it has not been positively confirmed yet.  Fingers crossed, all.  Good fortune and goodbye!

Also, Sav and her husband CK may be moving into our building.  Which would be lovely!  When Venice basely abandons me, it would be nice to have someone I know and like in easy cup-of-sugar borrowing distance.

Zapped

“Electricity is really just organized lightening.”
– George Carlin

Small Dog is positively charged.

We have card swipes on the doors to the secure areas of the department.  Today while sliding my card through the reader, I got a jolt of power through my arm. Much like the time I unscrewed the bulb from a night light when I was seven (old enough to know better) and stuck my finger in the gap to see what it felt like.  Don’t recommend it.

Later in the room where I take peoples’ fingerprints, the light wasn’t turning on.  I flipped it a couple of times with no result until suddenly the lights buzzed into life…while the switch was in the “Off” position.

I’ve also been on the receiving end of two static shocks today.

What on earth is going on?!

Prometheus. Bound.

“Hear now a sorry tale of mortal man…”
– Aeschylus

The story of Prometheus is well known, but to recap…  He was a titan who apparently sided with the Olympians when they wandered into Greece, looked around, and said, “We’ll take it.”  Even though Zeus declares himself supreme-overlord-of-all-and-if-you-challenge-me-you-will-get-struck-by-bloody-lightning-I-am-not-kidding!, Prometheus demonstrates over and over again that he is far more clever than the majority of the pantheon.  While Zeus is sneaking around behind his wife’s back, preening in a mirror, and trying (unsuccessfully) to keep his growing horde of illegitimate children quiet, Prometheus decides that he feels like creating humans and developing agriculture, writing, and the other civilizing arts.

"That'll learn you, thinking you're smarter than me..." "Wow. You're a huge jerk. Ow ow OW!"

But when he decided to steal fire (usually symbolizing technology in general) for mankind and smuggled it off Mount Olympus, Zeus finally lost it.  Fed up with his tricks, overwhelming cleverness, and making him (Zeus) look bad, he chained Prometheus to a mountain and sent an eagle to eat his liver everyday, which miraculously regrew each night so he could be tortured in the same way daily, ad infinitum.  One of the pesky downsides to being immortal.

The modern retelling of this myth is currently taking place on our front counter.

In an effort to help transition patrons to the new parking system, an unnamed officer bought two tiny laptops that our employees could use to walk individuals through the online process of registering their cars.  Trouble was that for months the system was hovering in a state of semi-productivity limbo, even on a good day the internet connection on the laptops is shoddy at best, and the computers are almost never used.  Not money well spent, in my opinion.

Not aesthetically pleasing, I feel.

However, one of the more obvious problems with this idea has been the method devised for keeping them in place (as it would be embarrassing for computers to get stolen from a police department); to wit, a tangled mass of wires, power strips, and chains wrapped around one another, the computers themselves, and drawer handles.  Looking both ghetto and ridiculous.

Moral of the story: trying to bring enlightenment and ease to the populace will probably make you an object of aggravation, fit only to be tied up and left to rot.

When the Tres Leches Rose Up Against The People

“‘Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures; And all are to be sold, if you consider Their passions, and are dext’rous; some by features Are brought up, others by a warlike leader; Some by a place–as tend their years or natures; The most by ready cash–but all have prices, From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.”
– Lord Byron,
Don Juan canto V, st. 27

Holidays are fun, regardless of nationality.  Take today: Cindo de Mayo.  Some people celebrate with chips and salsa, some with a fiesta, some with mariachi bands.  And some with bribery.

A certain student is banned from driving on campus.  This is due in large part to him accumulating up to four tickets in one day, parking in service/handicapped stalls, trying to fight our student officers, and claiming that he never received information that three people all told him (at the same time, in the same room together).  He was informed he had the ability to appeal the ban but would not be able to bring his car onto campus until a final decision had been made.  He said he understood and left.

Pictured: the filthy tool of corruption!

Today he came into our office, and asked for Red.
“You know about Cinco de Mayo, right?” he asked.  “It’s today.  So I brought you this.”
He held out a small packaged piece of tres leches cake with a meaningful expression.
“K, bye” he said quickly and hurried out.

Five minutes later we found his car in a non-student parking lot.

The real mystery here is, if he were trying to circumvent parking rules, why did he draw attention to himself by 1) attempted bribery and, 2) (and this is more perplexing) leaving his emergency lights flashing merrily away for over an hour?

How do you celebrate Cinco de Mayo?  Or any holiday for that matter?

Feature Presentation

“The worst part about this sort of guy is that they marry girls exactly like themselves.”
“Yeah.  Then, they breed.  And there’s more of them.”
– Hennessy and C.

I’m thinking of starting a semi-regular piece: things she and I see around campus.  I think I’ll call it, Double Takes With Hennessy and C. 

Here’s our first offering, found on the doors of Humanities building (photo by H., by the way):

People who refer to themselves as "THE" anything should be shunned by polite society, and possibly forbidden to breed.

Very Important Panic

“Fellows who know all about that sort of thing – dectives and so on – will tell you that the most difficult thing in the world is to get rid of the body…”
– P.G. Wodehouse

So, on Friday we had a majorly important visitor.  One of international consequence, influence, and meddling.  His security detail/entourage/People were on campus days in advance and had to be herded around the whole university.  I had to put together information packets for them detailing our VIP’s time down to minute increments.  It was a well-knit, flawless operation.

Until the grounds crew, digging around the Law School, unearthed a large plastic bag of large bones: partial leg bones, ribs, and coccyx. 

Cue flashes of  Ted Bundy, Jack the Ripper, Dexter, and Hannibal Lecter.  As you can imagine, it was a thrilling, suspenseful hour or so until we got an Anthropologist to inspect them (Sidenote: I really think all police departments should be located on university campuses.  Think of the treasure trove of experts at your fingertips!). 

They turned out to belong to a deer.  What a let down.

Nevertheless, the weekend was a welcome event after the excitement.  Monday has come way too early.

Horror!

 “Work is the curse of the drinking classes.”
– Oscar Wilde.
 

It's definitely a rage stroke.

I haven’t complained about work in a while, and there is a very simple reason for that.  I had a rage stroke.  Seriously.  I got so angry that the rage literally had nowhere to go so it just retreated to a corner of my brain and fizzled.  Between what I consider to be bad management with our pet project (which is still giving us a ridiculous amount of grief), and ego running our office in terms of funding, personnel relations, and department communication and day-to-day running, I was just FED UP.

Then, suddenly and blissfully, I just didn’t care anymore.  Of course I’m not so foolish as to think the apathy is permanent.  Just a few days later our copy machine threw up its metaphoric hands and said, “To hell with it,” Hennessy and I got so stressed that she had a minor meltdown and I spent a cathartic ten minutes kicking a brick wall before I went home, and self-entitled people began pouring out the woodwork (think they’ve been hibernating?).  

To top it off, Dilbert for the past couple of days has been frighteningly like our department.  Either Scott Adams secretly works here, or my worst fears have been confirmed and every job in the world is exactly the same. 

And still they don't get it...
And still they don't get it...
I promise this isn't an exaggeration. Really.
No. REALLY.