One hot summer day, we (mostly me, not so much on my husband.) decided that we needed to clear out the garage. Like everyone else in our generation, we've begun to accumulate more than our share of "stuff". As we weeded through our piles, it was obvious that we had to get rid of some stuff.
One particular item was my husband's old surfboards. He's up to four boards now, which of course, I think is three too many. We compromise, and he gives up the two oldest ones.
I place an ad on Craigs List. (We were hoping to get at least $75 bucks for each board.) A concise precise ad listing all the specs and info on each board.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
I put a few more ads in different local surfing newsletters.
Not one inquiry. After a few weeks, I delete all the ads.
Just as Mr. hummingbird actually starts to believe that he will be keeping his surfboards after all, I hit upon an idea.
Divorce Sale- Must sell two used surfboards. Tired of seeing them in my garage and ex husband will not pick them up. Make me an offer.
Signed,
One Angry Wife.
I had 6 emails waiting for me that evening. One guy even wrote, "You know what would make him really really mad? If you gave them away instead of selling them." He made me laugh. (I'm also filing away that suggestion for the future.) I make arrangements to meet a guy at the local grocery store parking lot. I invite a (male) friend with me. (who, also had a board he wanted to sell.) The sale went pretty quick, since each time the buyer would ask me a question, I just answered with "I have no idea" adding a shrug and making my eyes look as big and innocent as possible. The buyer would just shake his head, muttering "women...."
I got $225 for both boards.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
#386 Corporate Step Ladder
In my early 20's, I decided to "take a break" from college. (besides being on academic probation, you know?) I took a full time job in an office. This was my first introduction to life in a cubicle.
It was a small company, so everyone worked handling the phone calls, but also had other assigned tasks. As everything else in life, the newbies gets the shaft. (Thank you sir, may I have another??)
One of my first assignments, dealt with shipping and receiving. Since this company sold "stuff", we also shipped and received this "stuff". (<---BTW, this is not code for drugs.) Every shipper had a different way of handling the paperwork. Every shipper had a different set of acronyms and forms numbers. When stuff came in, the warehouse guys would just rip some paperwork off the cartons, crumple it up, sweat on it, maybe drop it on the floor in the men's room and then hand it to me. It was a bloody nightmare. I would sit there for hours trying to figure out what each mysterious piece of paper represented. (Hours!) What made the job harder, was this was all basically learn as you go. The previous person(jackass) who had this job left no instructions. (as did the person before that, and before that, and so on, and so on. Just like that shampoo commercial.) So, it was me making the same mistakes they made, while trying to correct the mistakes that they left for me. Well, as you can imagine, it was hard work, but I managed to get it under control. AND because I'm smarter-than-the-average-bear, I started keeping a log of what I did, when I did it, and why. My log eventually grew into brief explanations of acronyms, shipping terms, contact names, and everything else. Pretty soon, I had an SOP book (standard operating procedure) on my hands. I carefully labeled everything, and put it in a nice (sensible) three ring binder. It became my bible. Pretty soon, this part of the job became a breeze.
Months later, this little worker bee starts to move up the corporate ladder. I get a (small) promotion and (really really small) raise. As part of this, I also get assigned new and exciting assignments. (yay!) I hand off my piles of papers to the next newbie in line. And since I no longer needed it, I gave her my binder. I will soon learn a very important lesson.
What should have been an easy job for her, (since I had everything already written down) turned out to be a lot of work for me. I guess that she found it easier to just ask me all her questions. All day long.
Over and over again.
I had my own work to do.
So my "promotion" was just me doing two jobs instead of one.
Nice.
Something interesting started to happen. Newbie suddenly had all this free time on her hands. She spent most of it, hanging around the office, flirting with everyone she could. Newbie also went around bragging about how "easy" her new duties were. Best of all, during her review, Newbie asked for a raise because she had "re-organized everything to a more streamlined system."
Uh, huh.
The last straw came when Newbie started to bad mouth my work. What started off as "oh, look at what I great job I'm doing," soon became, "Oh, I hope I can find a way to fix everyone else's incompetent mistakes and still do a bang up job." It got old quick.
Finally, I found a quick and quiet solution. One day, I found myself alone with my old friend, the binder. I knew that I couldn't walk out with it, let alone let it be seen in my hands. I quietly found a padded envelope, stuck the binder inside, and labeled the outside. Added stamps, and waved goodbye.
The binder found it's way to some random address.
In Egypt.
Newbie did have the gall to ask me if I knew where "her" binder was. I smiled, and said, "what binder?"
It was a small company, so everyone worked handling the phone calls, but also had other assigned tasks. As everything else in life, the newbies gets the shaft. (Thank you sir, may I have another??)
One of my first assignments, dealt with shipping and receiving. Since this company sold "stuff", we also shipped and received this "stuff". (<---BTW, this is not code for drugs.) Every shipper had a different way of handling the paperwork. Every shipper had a different set of acronyms and forms numbers. When stuff came in, the warehouse guys would just rip some paperwork off the cartons, crumple it up, sweat on it, maybe drop it on the floor in the men's room and then hand it to me. It was a bloody nightmare. I would sit there for hours trying to figure out what each mysterious piece of paper represented. (Hours!) What made the job harder, was this was all basically learn as you go. The previous person(jackass) who had this job left no instructions. (as did the person before that, and before that, and so on, and so on. Just like that shampoo commercial.) So, it was me making the same mistakes they made, while trying to correct the mistakes that they left for me. Well, as you can imagine, it was hard work, but I managed to get it under control. AND because I'm smarter-than-the-average-bear, I started keeping a log of what I did, when I did it, and why. My log eventually grew into brief explanations of acronyms, shipping terms, contact names, and everything else. Pretty soon, I had an SOP book (standard operating procedure) on my hands. I carefully labeled everything, and put it in a nice (sensible) three ring binder. It became my bible. Pretty soon, this part of the job became a breeze.
Months later, this little worker bee starts to move up the corporate ladder. I get a (small) promotion and (really really small) raise. As part of this, I also get assigned new and exciting assignments. (yay!) I hand off my piles of papers to the next newbie in line. And since I no longer needed it, I gave her my binder. I will soon learn a very important lesson.
What should have been an easy job for her, (since I had everything already written down) turned out to be a lot of work for me. I guess that she found it easier to just ask me all her questions. All day long.
Over and over again.
I had my own work to do.
So my "promotion" was just me doing two jobs instead of one.
Nice.
Something interesting started to happen. Newbie suddenly had all this free time on her hands. She spent most of it, hanging around the office, flirting with everyone she could. Newbie also went around bragging about how "easy" her new duties were. Best of all, during her review, Newbie asked for a raise because she had "re-organized everything to a more streamlined system."
Uh, huh.
The last straw came when Newbie started to bad mouth my work. What started off as "oh, look at what I great job I'm doing," soon became, "Oh, I hope I can find a way to fix everyone else's incompetent mistakes and still do a bang up job." It got old quick.
Finally, I found a quick and quiet solution. One day, I found myself alone with my old friend, the binder. I knew that I couldn't walk out with it, let alone let it be seen in my hands. I quietly found a padded envelope, stuck the binder inside, and labeled the outside. Added stamps, and waved goodbye.
The binder found it's way to some random address.
In Egypt.
Newbie did have the gall to ask me if I knew where "her" binder was. I smiled, and said, "what binder?"
Friday, January 8, 2010
Let Them Eat Cake #759
Years ago, I used to work in a bank. It was so long ago, that it was before the Internet. So, your two banking choices were to either go into a bank for your transactions or call your bank. I worked in a call center. (Before they all moved overseas.) As I've mentioned several times before, I am a bitch in real life. (I'm okay with that. :) ) So, working in the call center was utter hell for someone like me.
From 8 am to 5 pm, I was stuck in my little cubicle answering phone calls. As you can imagine, I probably needed to work on my "people skills". There were 14 women, and one lone man stuff into a too small room with a overbearing manager. You can just see the drama in this situation. (actually, this is really were I honed my skills. I guess I should probably send them a thank-you card.) It lead to many, many interesting situations, that I'm sure that I will share later.
After two years of suffering, I accidentally fell into another job.
A GREAT job.
A secure job.
Quite possibly a dream job.
And best of all, it paid at least double of what I was currently making at the time. I quickly cemented myself into my new job, and soon after gave notice at the call center. As the custom, I worked for two more weeks before I started my new job. Since I was fairly young and dumb, I probably shared my good news just a little bit too much. I answered every one's questions. I invited people to come visit me in my new office. I even told some people, that once I got settled, I would try to get them a similar job at the new place. I shared, shared, and shared.
My last day at the bank, I was practically walking on air. I don't think that I completed one task, all day long. (my last day. Why should I?) After lunch, I was told that I needed to go to the employee's lunch room, to "fill out some paperwork." (<----Does anyone actually fall for that??) So, I arrive in the room, and most of the office is there. (probably not to see me off, but more than likely for the cake.) I say goodbye to most of them, and promise to come back and tell everyone every single detail of my new, fabulous, and well paying job. Pretty soon, it's cake time. I head over for a piece. I glance at the white cake, and read the frosting:
So long.....Bitch.
REALLY!
Now, I know what you're thinking.
I should have been mad.
I should have been hurt.
I should have been embarrassed.
I was none of those.
I reached over, cut out the word "Bitch" and proceeded to stuff my face with it.
It was delicious.
I really, really wish I had a picture of it, but it was way before camera phones.
But I will settle for a fond memory instead.
From 8 am to 5 pm, I was stuck in my little cubicle answering phone calls. As you can imagine, I probably needed to work on my "people skills". There were 14 women, and one lone man stuff into a too small room with a overbearing manager. You can just see the drama in this situation. (actually, this is really were I honed my skills. I guess I should probably send them a thank-you card.) It lead to many, many interesting situations, that I'm sure that I will share later.
After two years of suffering, I accidentally fell into another job.
A GREAT job.
A secure job.
Quite possibly a dream job.
And best of all, it paid at least double of what I was currently making at the time. I quickly cemented myself into my new job, and soon after gave notice at the call center. As the custom, I worked for two more weeks before I started my new job. Since I was fairly young and dumb, I probably shared my good news just a little bit too much. I answered every one's questions. I invited people to come visit me in my new office. I even told some people, that once I got settled, I would try to get them a similar job at the new place. I shared, shared, and shared.
My last day at the bank, I was practically walking on air. I don't think that I completed one task, all day long. (my last day. Why should I?) After lunch, I was told that I needed to go to the employee's lunch room, to "fill out some paperwork." (<----Does anyone actually fall for that??) So, I arrive in the room, and most of the office is there. (probably not to see me off, but more than likely for the cake.) I say goodbye to most of them, and promise to come back and tell everyone every single detail of my new, fabulous, and well paying job. Pretty soon, it's cake time. I head over for a piece. I glance at the white cake, and read the frosting:
So long.....Bitch.
REALLY!
Now, I know what you're thinking.
I should have been mad.
I should have been hurt.
I should have been embarrassed.
I was none of those.
I reached over, cut out the word "Bitch" and proceeded to stuff my face with it.
It was delicious.
I really, really wish I had a picture of it, but it was way before camera phones.
But I will settle for a fond memory instead.
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