Pulling into the station
October 06, 2004
Tis the season for holiday help. I know of a few people who are in the market for some extra spending cash... That mixed with the promise of morning holiday help (thank you thank you thank you) has prompted me to tell the tale of the temps from hell...o...On the day after Thanksgiving, 2002, our system crashed. And by crashed, I mean took a flying leap off the Sears Tower and destroyed all the files. We were up shit creek, screwed, you name it. On the biggest shopping day of the year. We manage to get the customers taken care of, but the books were so screwed up big time. So after Christmas, Boss decided to bring in some help. He picked a temp agency and they sent over the first winner. We'll call him the Amazing Farting Man (AFM for short). AFM was about 12 feet tall, wore a black trench coat and an Indiana Jones style hat. Everyday. Inside and out. Not that I minded that, but man, when I start wondering if the fabric has fused to your body, it's time to swap jackets. But anyways, AFM sat in the cubicle across the office from me, over by Boss. One day, before AFM got in, Boss asked if we had heard AFM's err... song? The Ex and I shook our heads, but mentioned that we had sure smelled it. We turned down the radios a bit when AFM got in and sure enough, we heard him toot-toot-tootin' away. ALL DAY LONG. It was sooooooo nasty. AFM tried to "help" me enter invoices (you know, he's so much smarter than me because he's older - whatever). "You can enter the date *here* and then copy *like this* and then just control V. It'll save you time." I just looked him in the eye and told him that it was faster to use 10-key, thank you. "Oh you know how to 10-key?" Uh, yeah. He also had these weird gadgets all the time - I think he made some of them himself. And a TON of mints. God, I've never seen so many mints in one pocket! Altoids, Penguin, Certs, you name it.
Then the backlog of invoices arrived. I nearly shit myself when I opened that box. Boss called the temp agency and they sent over the Hippie Tea Lady (HTL). When she first came in, I thought "thank god, she appears normal." Then she sat down at her cubicle... She took off her shoes, tucked her legs up under her, pulled out this round tin canister filled with tea bags and inhaled. Do we smell that bad? She never actually drank the tea, just sniffed it. And there was a wide variety to choose from - from mint to earl gray to lemon to stuff I'd never even heard of. Then she started to talk. To herself. All. Day. Long. And not just the occational "duh, moron" kind of stuff, no no. These were full on conversations, sometimes she would instruct herself on how to operate the mouse (?!) or about getting some water, all kinds of things. And she sang, too. Very quietly, though, just loud enough that we knew that she was singing, but we didn't know the song. It was annoying as hell. When she wanted to clense my work space, I shooed her out and thankfully we finished the backlog the next day.
HTL and AFM were only with us for a couple of weeks, but they are remembered to this day. So when Boss said last November that he wanted to bring in some help, the Ex and I begged him not to use the temp agency.
Here's hoping that the person he hires this time will actually produce work... And maybe they won't fart or sniff tea bags, too.
Breaking Up - July 20, 2006
Chugga Chugga Woo Woo - June 14, 2006
Dammit.Janet. - May 31, 2006
Zee Tee-Vee - May 25, 2006
Tra-la tra-la - May 07, 2006
Some things are better left unsaid. Obviously, these are not those things.
change here for:
optimystic6pattianne
janitor-x
nibbleofcorn
supermom3604