I See-Saw What You Did There

| Working | August 24, 2012

(My boss is an incessant mumbler. I can’t understand him 90% of the time.)

Me: “The man who was calling to complain earlier this week is on the phone again.”

Boss: “Oh yeah, is it [customer]?”

Me: “Yes, he is calling again, even more upset.”

Boss: “Tell him he needs to call See-Saw Communication and then go ahead and hang up.”

(I’m puzzled, as I’ve never heard of ‘See-Saw Communication’.)

Me: “Okay…” *to the customer on the phone* “You have contacted the wrong office; you’ll need to contact See-Saw Communications. Thank you.” *hangs up*

Boss: *laughing hysterically* “You were serious about me mumbling weren’t you? I said he needs to CEASE ALL communications!”

Me: *turns bright red*

Boss: “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be plenty busy looking for See-Saw Communication!”

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Not Ever Working, Part 3

| Working | August 14, 2012

Coworker: “I don’t understand why I can’t get my phone on our company’s wireless network. I am using up all of my data plan every day.”

Me: “Are you trying to get company email or calendars on your phone?”

Coworker: “No, mostly Facebook and Pandora. I shouldn’t have to use up all my data plan when I am at work.”

Me: “Even if you got on the network, they would block any streaming or non-work websites.”

Coworker: “That’s dumb! I should be able to use whatever I want when I am at work.”

Me: “So, you should be able to stream music and be on Facebook all day while at work?”

Coworker: “Yes!”

Me: *sarcastically* “Sounds right to me. Put everything you just told me into an email, send it to the boss, and copy HR so he knows you mean business! That should get some things going!”

 

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Bigot Bait

| Working | August 13, 2012

(My ethnic heritage is a bit of a mish-mash. On one side, I am of recent European immigrants, while on the other I am native and English. This occurs on the first day of my first job as I am sitting with coworkers and my supervisor in the lunch room. My coworker is getting increasingly vocal about his disdain for native Americans due to recent news items including a blockade of key roads in the Montreal area. The conversation takes place in French.)

Coworker: “Natives are s***! They don’t pay taxes. They’re into smuggling and criminal gangs, and they all drink themselves into prison. I hate them!”

Me: “Um, I’m part Mohawk.”

Coworker: *embarrassed* “Uh, I have to go and compile that program…”

(My coworker leaves. My supervisor, who has overheard everything, approaches me.)

Supervisor: “Well, that ended wrong, didn’t it? I guess every generation has its problem with one group or another. In my day, it was the f***ing DPs. You know what a DP is? Displaced Person. God, they flooded the city after the war. Useless, and I bet most of them were Nazi sympathizers. They were filthy and they brought disease. They took jobs away from good Quebecers!”

Me: “Um, my mom was a DP. I’m part German.”

Supervisor: *laughs* “I put my foot in it that time didn’t I? Well, at least you’re not English.”

Me: “Um…”

(I quit very shortly thereafter.)

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Pigheaded Comments

| Working | August 8, 2012

(I am one of two white people joining an all-Spanish department. No one realizes I am bilingual.)

Coworker: “Hi, how are you today?”

Me: “Fine, and you?”

Coworker: “Okay.”

(She turns to one of the others and jerks her head towards me.)

Coworker: *in Spanish* “She’s a fat pig.”

(I whip around and jerk my head towards her.)

Me: *in Spanish* “…and she’s an ignorant moron.” *in English* “You have a nice day.”

(The ignorant moron hasn’t stopped sucking up to me since!)

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Asking For Trouble

| Working | July 27, 2012

(Due to an increase in my workload, I have delegated the task of filing documents to our receptionist at the suggestion of my boss. After many months of the receptionist repeatedly asking me the same questions over and over, this conversation ensues.)

Receptionist: “Hey, where do I file this document?”

Me: “In section 10.”

Receptionist: “How about this one?”

Me: “Also section 10.”

Receptionist: “Thanks!”

(Mildly annoyed with the receptionist’s repeated daily interruptions, I print out a written procedure on how to file documents.)

Me: “Hey [receptionist], I figured maybe you had lost the procedure for filing or maybe I never gave it to you in the first place. So, if you have any questions on where the documents go, this should answer any questions you do have.”

Receptionist: “Oh yeah, I have that already!”

Me: “…You do?”

Receptionist: “Yep.”

Me: “Then why do you keep asking me where everything needs to be filed?”

Receptionist: “It’s just easier for me to keep asking you!”

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