Monday, April 7, 2008

By the Power of Greyskull!

Smelly homeless guy,
an Escort backfires and dies
love the big city

So life at da Firm went on, with me hating Greyskull just a little more every day, for a multitude of reasons:

1. She seemed to get this disgusting frothy joy out of calling me into her office to lambaste me on stupid subjects such as my attitude, and constantly got on me for talking to the only other negro on the floor, I guess da Firm had a policy that 1 negro is affirmative action at work; 2 Negros is a conspiracy to rape white women in the making.

2. She hired on that damn skank with her pretty smells and fluffy pillows to sully up the manly vibe I had tried to give my work area, and it seemed to me that putting what we all assumed was a known spy (hence the secretive hiring and the not telling us about it to properly prepare) working for Greyskull and Skeletor, her manager, right next to me meant they were trying to find a way to fire me and that I would easily slip up in the presence of the fairer sex. Bah! Bah, I say!

3. Greyskull spent what were great Thursday meetings that we would spend fine tuning the Hemi that was our help desk to keep it in tip top shape into hourlong bitch fests complete with Skeletor as backup, and Shitface, the CIO, lurking outside the doors, yearning to eat more carpet. I mean, come on, I am black. The food was free. All we would need it a basketball goal and I would be in heaven, right? How shitty of a manager do you have to be when you ruin free food and a chance to not be working the phones!

Let me hash some of these out more. When Greyskull hired the new girl, I automatically transferred some of the residual hate from Greyskull to her, perhaps unfairly, but if you look at me closely you can see that I don't care. Greyskull's squashing of the entire goodwill and productivity simply for the sake of making the help desk a great place to work seemed complete. I now dreaded going to work, because the Coog had told me this new girl, let's call her Derka for absolutely no reason whatsoever, was a snitch and would complain if I did or said anything out of line, which I was at that point sure Max enjoyed because that meant he could come into work and not have to listen to Steely Dan all day anymore (in all honesty, toward the end it was getting old for me, too, but the fact that I could see him consciously or unconsciously cringe every time he heard "Deacon Blues" again made it all worth while)... and that pissed me off.

It seemed Greyskull had won, and I figured I might as well get it over with, as I am not naturally a PC person all the time. I might as well go out in a blaze of glory. My tongue loosened, and I became my old self again, saying such politically correct tidbits as "boy I can't wait until she turns 18" about the 14 year old intern we had working, because she had offered to crawl under the Briton's desk for me once, to "Man I sure would like to eat some mayonnaise out of Greyskull's crevasse", and not only did Derka not do as I expected, which was look on me disapprovingly and then run into Greyskull's office, but she seemed to have her own quips as well. Niiiiicccceeee...... but this could all be a front. I had to test her. More on that later.

On the Thursday meetings. When I started, in what I like to call the Happy Days (I am copyrighting that term, in case they make a movie and someone wants to make a show called Happy Days, it sounds silly but it could happen, trust me), Thursdays meant free food, all of us getting together to work on some tough issues, and our manager gently guiding us along the path to enlightenment, or at least on the path to first call resolution, something that to this day I still don't do so it must not exist. Damn needy users with their "I asked you to stop popups and you just took my monitor away waaaaaaahhhh!" Fuck you, Grandma!

Once Greyskull joined the Coven of Cunt, Thursdays quickly lost their allure, for many reasons:

1. When I started, I was told Thursdays were voluntary, and we got paid an hour of overtime if we felt like going. We were such a tight knit group (with the exception of Patrick, who was a complete douche I'm told) we all went to every Thursday meeting, gently tickle fighting in the elevator, wait no that was something else I did... disregard that last sentence.

Once Greyskull took over, Thursdays became mandatory, to the point that we would get in trouble for showing up late, no matter that we were on the phone with an attorney or a partner working on an issue, the Coven needed it's weekly sacrifice!

2. During the Happy Days, Thursdays was a day we would look at outstanding tickets, making fun of each other if the issue was a simple one, but for the most part an open forum to see if we could resolve eachother's issues while we ate delicious food and gazed out of the window at beautiful downtown Kansas City.

Once the Coven of Cunt took over, that all ended. We spent the first half of Thursdays with them taking turns ramming their collective fists up our unlubed assholes, twisting them in such a way as to make us cry out like tender raptors, left unprotected during a rain of success twisting and writhing in agony in our seats as it was made apparent that with the exception of Derka, we all sucked, and the reason we all sucked with the exception of Derka, who endearingly seemed as uncomfortable as the rest of us, was because we had penises. Is this sounding like the South Park 300 episode yet? It was with one exception: I would pound Mrs. Garrison unmercifully LONG before I would allow The Vaginator to enter Greyskull's mayonnaise and cold gravy infused nether regions, barely held in check with that Monster truck tire she called a leather skirt.

3. This last one will sound like whining, but it should never have been an issue, although it led to not 1 but 2 manager meetings: During the Happy Days, we could sit wherever we wanted, all that was really required was we participate and pay attention at least for the most part. Not so with Greyskull. Sitting in the back with the sun on your shoulders and room to stretch pissed her off and made Flanders cry, and she accused me of being antisocial and making everyone else feel uncomfortable. Now I might be able to understand if I sat back there and waited until people started eating and then walked up behind them and stuck my dick in their Coke, but I only did that once and Max didn't even mind so what was the big deal? And that, my friends, was the biggest issue I had with Greyskull: that she gave me shit over little things, while glossing over the fact that I was in charge of our document management system, and setting up printer scripts for the 50 printers we had in that damn building.

I.....oooooh, I have so much more I want to say, but I will let my anger be, like the monkey in a pinata, hiding amongst the candy, hoping the kids don't break through with the sticks!


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