Stompa
During lunchbreak and I’m at the basin in the ladies toilet. Rhonda Stompa at the next basin says, ‘The tap’s still running!’ She’s pointing to the tap I’m using.
Okay, the tap is on, drizzling not running. Stompa says, ‘Think of the environment!’
Huh..?
In a tone of disgust and of expecting obedience she says, ‘Go on. Turn it off!’ Her ‘unpleasant’ face is on, which on a scale of 1-10 for unpleasantness would definitely hit level 9.
Fuck off, Stompa. How dare you address anyone in such an insulting manner! Soon you will be dictating how much toilet paper I should use. Or how often to flush the toilet. Lunch breaks should be respite from officious shits like you but no, you just can’t stop.
One of these days, I’m sure I will suffer a serious bout of oesophagitis from the overload of jizz that I have to swallow in this job.
Filed under: ladies | 1 Comment
Tags: office bitches, water, work rant
Spit and Polish
One of the staff left their newspaper in reception for others to read. Along comes Lola Spitemore and places it out of sight behind my desk. That particular paper is considered not ‘high-brow’ enough for this company’s clients. Only a ’posh’ newspaper is allowed to grace this waiting room.
But the clients like reading the Low-brow newspaper.
If Lola Spitemore wants things in order, she can start by using the office kitchen sink for kitchen purposes only, not to swill out her mouth or brush her teeth there. Gross!
Damn you, Spitemore.
Filed under: ladies | Leave a Comment
Tags: angry, daily newspaper, work rant
Sharp Tongue
Delphinia McFish thinks some people are plain stupid. I had believed it was only me that she thought of as dim-witted because of her ’suggestions’, which basically meant her telling me how to do parts of my job; stuff which I’d been doing in the decade before her arrival.
Her latest comment casting doubt on someone’s intelligence occurred when she referred to a client by using the ‘not the sharpest knife…’ analogy. Well, the client is an international figure and would need to be sharp to be in that position.
When I spoke up in defence of the client, Delphinia McFish redeemed herself a little by saying that the person wouldn’t have time for trivia anyway because she was so arty. Okay McFishface, you’re ‘off the hook’, just this once.
Filed under: ladies | Leave a Comment
Tags: hell hound, office bitches, sharp knife
Flippant
Icarus Featherley was in such a rush to go home that he almost forgot to take some of the mail on his way out. Taking the mail to the post office is one of his agreed tasks. I called him back to pick it up.
’Oh, thanks. Where would I be without you?!’ he says cheerily. ‘Bye by-ee!’ he sings this at me over his shoulder then breezes out of the office. Do I detect a hint of defiance? Icarus is so cocky with it, briskly departing his unofficial 40 minutes early. Although I’d like to see him get found out, I just can’t snitch on the shithead. And he knows it.
Where are the argus-eyed sentinels of the office who are usually so grumblingly disapproving if someone should leave for home a mere five minutes early? Too busy applying their nosey expertise where it’s not needed. Bastards!
Filed under: teenagers | Leave a Comment
Tags: angry rant, co-workers, disrespect, self-serving, work rant
Slack Alley
Years ago, I worked in a large, busy office as a telephonist. One time, I picked up a call, which happened to be my friend phoning me.
’I knew I’d get you!’ she said, sounding mock-annoyed.
‘How’d you know it’d be me?’ I asked.
‘Because you always take so long to answer the phones,’ she said.
She had presumed me guilty of being inefficient. But the delay was due to only a few of us actually working, even though we had the full quota of staff. There were two telephonists wandering about the room, chatting. Another was with the pinch-faced supervisor, laughing and talking about something private. Another woman had surreptitiously plugged her switchboard out of use but remained in her seat, pretending to be ‘occupied’. Someone else was reading a magazine, while fiddling with the metal-piercing in her nose and answering the incoming calls at half-speed.
In this sloppy, demoralising atmosphere, the supervisor sat derelict, wasting space behind a large desk. Her smile-starved face and small, belligerent eyes made her look as mean as a bad character from a Dickens novel.
But the ‘mugs’ are needed to get on with the work, otherwise the slackers can’t get on with their slacking. ”Justice is incidental to law and order” is a J Edgar Hoover quote. He ain’t telling me anything new.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Leave a Comment
Tags: angry rant, downtrodden, office mouse, presumed guilty
Misunderstood
Spartacus Boothroyd was about to go home. He entered the lift with his back towards me, at the same time rattling off information for me to give to someone else. I called out loudly from behind the reception desk that I didn’t catch what he said, and to come back and tell me PROPERLY.
But he didn’t. He was now mumbling as the lift doors closed, with me doing my best to lip-read from a distance.
So then it was up to me to try and work out what his message was from the few words I’d heard. Even more annoying is that I should have gone home 15 minutes earlier but was held up by answering one of those last-minute, phone-calling clients.
Now I’m half-expecting Spartacus to accuse me of inaccurate message transfer, when I next go in.
People issuing instructions should make themselves clearly heard and always ensure that the instructions have been fully understood by the recipient. Otherwise what’s the point?
Filed under: Uncategorized | Leave a Comment
Tags: office rant, receptionist rant, what's the point?
Big Bus
Today the bus to work is not crowded so, hooray, I get to sit down. I’m next to Mr Blobby whose physical overspill means I have to hang off my seat half-arsed, to accommodate him. It’s not his fault; these seats are too narrow for modern obesity. Our thighs are touching so I hang further off my seat into the aisle to avoid him.
Now his arm is resting on mine. Mr Blobby’s body inhales and exhales against me. Feeling squashed, I decide to stand for the remainder of the journey. There should be rules for fat people to observe if they want to stay on good terms with the general public. That sounds mean but I feel intimidated by them.
A young lady on the bus is putting on her make-up with a brush big enough to paint a wall. Next second another brush comes out to sweep colour onto her cheeks. She looks at me over her mirror with an affronted expression, as if like, ‘What are you looking at?!’ Aaah….lovely, friendly London…and it’s only 8.25am.
Filed under: public behaviour | 1 Comment
Tags: ettiquette, london bus, mr blobby, obesity, public manners, workrant
esprit de l’escalier
The scissor-tongued trio are congregating. Beryl Behemoth is daintily (dainty for a behemoth) eating her steaming, stenchy lunch from a polystryene lunchbox. Very nice for clients to walk into a reception area that smells like something akin to a cat-house after a major orgy.
Beryl is nibbling at her vittles. It would be more fitting if she just up-ended the lunch box into her chomp-hole and let it all slide down her gullet, then throw in the box too, for ‘afters’. When this group meets, it seems that the general ‘no eating at the desk’ rule is put on hold.
Bindi McQuack had a mini-skirt on, today. Are they her legs? Or endless, splintery broomsticks? She complained that my emails ‘block up’ the office system. What?! A few emails?! If that’s the case then the computer system needs upgrading. And why only my emails? Am I from The Twilight Zone? I so wish that I didn’t suffer from esprit de l’escalier and this lack of confidence.
Mrs Sneerbark, usually one of my strongest ‘critics’, is currently not as vociferous as she used to be. She is now a Shetland pony that has dropped into third place, out-paced by the other two big horse-mouths.
Filed under: ladies | Leave a Comment
Tags: behemoth, esprit de l'escalier, exemptions, herd mentality, workrant
Inflamed
The recent eruption of acne across the facial terrain of Icarus Featherley looks painful. Unfortunate that these fiery blemishes should mar an otherwise pleasing complexion.
Icarus has my sympathy but I wish he would keep his obsessed fingers away from his pustular areas, especially as he uses my computer keyboard and telephones.
Filed under: teenagers | 1 Comment
Tags: co-workers, office equipment, receptionist rant, teenage acne
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