This will be my fifth diary that I've published since last Tuesday the twenty ninth, and they haven't been short ones either. Nope! No cut and paste job here! Only Number One, Grade A, Fresh Bullshit do you get from me! This has been a process that's been going on since last Friday. It did take me a while to finish that first diary but I still contend that it was for reasons completely out of my sphere of control. Well, maybe I didn't hafta go into all "stupid freakout," last weekend but there was just sooo, so, very much stupid last week. Mountains of stupid. Big heaping, stinking, malodorous, piles of stupid. Now though, I really feel as if I've hit my stride. Fallen into the ol' grove, so to speak. One of the things that's surprised me so far about this hobby is the shear bulk of my personal experiences that seem to be weaving their way into my writing. I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised given the nature of my first diary of 4/29. When you start out being (that/too?) personal I guess you've sort of busted your proverbial cherry at the get go. That and I get this deep feeling of isolation when I sit here in front of this screen, and that's intimidating. I'm sure there's a way to find this out but, I have really no idea about how many eyeballs are actually seeing these essays. The weird thing about it is, it's almost like I can feel you guys out there. I cannot see yee wee buggers, but ney, I know yee be out there. Lurking. Waiting to pounce and be mean to me and discouraging me from ever trying to write from now until the day I die! Either that or it's this damn Lemon Haze. 50/50, either/or, you pick'em.
It's just that every time I think to myself, 'Nope, don't do it. You gotta hold something back. Don't tell 'em that. It's too personal.' I just end up spewing that very same story out all over these pages like vomit from a freshman on Spring Break. It's like a compulsion. I can't help myself! But... if you really are out there, I want you guys to promise me something. If I start publishing my credit card numbers or my bank account PINS, please see it as the desperate cry for help that it most surely would be. Try and get the administrator to shut down my access. Call this my Cyber Advanced Directives. It'll probably be too late by then but at least I'll know you're out there. That you care. The closest thing to genuine human contact and emotions that you can get in this cold uncaring word of silicone, brushed aluminum, and, Kali only knows, how many rare earth metals that we'll be indebted to the Chinese for until we can haul our lazy asses back out into space, where we belong, tie them space doggies that'r out there down and haul their Rare Earth Mineral Havin' Rock Butts Back Down To The Earth Here! Onto This Gosh Dang Ground! AND WE WILL SMELT THEIR RUBBLE PILE ASSES DOWN FOR THE SWEET SWEET RARE EARTH GOODNESS INSIDE, AND WE'LL BELCH THE GOD DAMN TOXIC SMOKE FROM THEM ROCKS OUT ANY OL' PLACE WE WANT TO BECAUSE ORDINARY EARTH POLLUTANTS JUST AREN'T GOOD ENOUGH ANYMORE AND IF FOR NO OTHER REASON, WE'RE THE MOTHER FUCKIN' U.S. OF A. GOD DAMN IT!!! AND THE REST OF THE PLANET CAN JUST DEAL WITH IT!!!!!
Which is only my little way of saying that I'm forecasting, in the weirdest way possible perhaps, the fact that I'm about to drivel out yet another story from my life. My own little Sacred Saga of the Crusty Crotch I suppose. I believe those lettered in the discipline of Literature call this particular phenomenon: Foreshadowing. Kind of a round about way of getting there I'll grant you, but hey! To quote one of my longtime personal heroes in all things except speed ballin', John Belushi, "It don't cost nuthin'."
Lo-r-dee, I guess it might actually be the weed.
Dateline Knob Noster
On the rare occasions that I had to hustle coworkers on out the door... permanently, for incompetence/stupidity/stealing narcotics/whatever, there were several maxims that I trusted in that never once let me down. What I figured out very early in the game was that stupid is as stupid does. Forest's mama sure did have one there. So I was laying around today thinking about this, thinking about that, and eventually thinks I; I should do you all a solid, all you good citizens out there. You princes of Maine, you kings of New England, you upstanding blokes who still work and toil for "da man" and all the time having to deal with office politics on top of everything else. (Oh how I use to love office politics. It made a tiring job more interesting says the spider to the other potential spiders out there.) Therefore I shall attempt to lay out my... philosophy shall we say, and give you all the benefit of my twenty seven years of dealing with assorted mouth breathers, numb nutz, and all around general fuck ups. The only thing that would be required of you would be to have the intestinal fortitude to see the job through to the end. This is something that if you do it half way you'll be worse off than if you'd never done nuthin' at all.
What I'm going to try and do here is to codify information that's taken me years to master. Well, maybe not that long. I'm usually a pretty quick study, but these were my ways of dealing with the petty bullshit that everyone has to deal with if they've ever worked a day in their life.
1. Stupid is as stupid does.
If you're having to deal with an absolutely ignorant, petty tyrant who somehow has
managed to be promoted way beyond their level of competence, and if said
ignoramus is in a position where they posses some modicum of sway over your life,
always remember bromide #1. Stupid people will always do stupid things. They can't
help it. They're just stupid. You'd think they'd see your attack coming from a mile
off, but if they could do that, they wouldn't be stupid in the first place, would they?
Don't you worry. I've come right out and told people that I was gunning for them
and it didn't matter. They still fell right into my machinations of doing nothing (he
says twisting his mustache in his best Simon Legree.)
It may take some time but, if you can show a little self-restraint and stoicism, then
just sit right back, relax, and let that rope out as far she'll go, your patience will be
rewarded with a good hangin'. I can't remember even once where, if I gave some
idiot I had targeted for termination, the time and opportunities to fuck up all on their
own, I'll be damned if they didn't have the courtesy to oblige me. I never had to
hector them. They didn't need any of my help! That's the beauty of it all. You just sit
back and let it all be.
And before you go feeling too sorry for these people, keep in mind that these are the
men and women who take care of your mother, or your kids, or you, and they're
taking care of these people when they're at their most vulnerable. More to point,
there's a big deficit of Registered Nurses out there. Usually these people would just
leave long before human resources had to get involved. It's a sellers market for
Registered Nurses. You could say the same thing for physicians that I've had to take
action against. I don't want to give out the impression that I'm hatin' on nurses.
Idiots come in all shapes and sizes, advanced degrees not withstanding. Even
though I personally had to deal with nurses, more time than not, that's just a matter
of shear numbers. I've worked with way more nurses over the years than doctors by
a factor of eight. Pound for pound, ounce per ounce, bad doctors are a whole hell of
a lot more dangerous and infinity harder to deal with, and it's all because of that
medical doctorate, but, for me, that just made 'em more of a challenge.
As for those few sad sacks who did actually stick around for the finale, they had to
be verbally warned at least twice and written up three times before they were shown
the door. Usually more, remember the nursing shortage? These are definitely your
hardcore stupid cases. The clueless types of people who are obviously too dim to
grasp the subtlety of two verbal warnings and at least two formal write ups prior to
the administration of the coup de grâce. Things like that are completely lost on these
lugubrious bastards because, well, they aren't very smart.
I think, if there's one overarching theme to be taken away here, it might be that
we're talking specifically about folks without a lot of the gray thinky stuff inside
they's head. The one bad thing is that these people aren't equipped with the cranial
accoutrements to take a hint and find another line of work. One where peoples lives
aren't dependent on their meager skill set. Perhaps a challenging paper route or
something similar might be in order here. It's hard to kill someone with a lemonade
stand. Well, baring easy access to strychnine.
Oh well! And Donald Sterling's going to make a cool half billion dollar payday when
he finally gets a clue and sells.
Sometimes Karma's a cruel bitch!
2. Document! Document! Document!
If you can't prove an allegation, it didn't happen!
You may feel a little sneaky, at first, but you'll get over it. I realize that working for a
group of actuaries or an accounting firm, doesn't have the same daily life and death
consequences that heading up an emergency department does, but it's where you,
in all likelihood, spend more time than you do with your spouse/kids/significant
other, so why put up with some asshole who's constantly making more work for you
just in having to fix their fuck ups. Then taking credit for all of your
hard work? I don't think so!
The next time they do something that might not be exactly kosher, write it down,
and be specific. List the dates, times, and potential witnesses who could confirm
your view of things. Then write out, in excruciating detail, the said transgression.
And try not to leave this document lying around somewhere for this sycophant to
find it. Maybe one of those cheep diaries with a lock on them? Even if they did see
what was in it, more's the gooder for you. If they're stupid enough to call you on
what was in your diary then I think this begs the question: a) Why did they get into
your personal diary that's clearly marked as such, and 2) What were
they doing reading your "personal" diary. Don't forget rule #1. Be prepared, he may
do just that. All that'l do is make for some intriguing small talk between you and HR.
Don't be petty, but if this individual is doing their job in such a way that "peek
productivity" is harmed, usually those above this person on the food chain might be
interested in knowing what's going on below them. You might be surprised, they
may already be aware of the problem but assumed that since nobody was bitchin'
why fix what's working, as far as they know.
And this leads right into the next point:
3. Thou Shalt Always Follow the Chain of Command!
I cannot emphasize this point too much. The above should be seen as being
synonymous with, be professional!
If you bypass said idiot and go straight to their boss, don't be surprised if you get a
less than warm reception. I know it's scerrry the first time but you gotta do it.
Remember, even if you don't get this fucktard, reject fired, you've put he/she/it on
notice that you aren't to be fucked with. Or at least not without a cost. It's kind of
like a home security system. It may not be an absolute deterrent to having your
house burglarized, but if they see the stickers on your windows, they'll probably just
go pick on another house that might be a little less secure, and isn't that good
enough? But to be fair, you have to at least give this nimrod a chance to fix the
problem... amicably more or less. Don't worry, they won't. If they were actually
good at their job, you wouldn't be doing all this in the first place. And, believe you
me, if you have to kick your complaint upstairs you'll catch this dimwit completely
unawares. They'll be blindsided, believe me. They always are.
I say again, remember rule number one. If they're that special (bus
) kinda
person that is truly, truly stupid, they'll just get pissed off and be an even bigger
dick. Time to get a second diary. If they do that, you also will have the high ground
of being able to say that you tried to fix the problem before it got to the bosses
boss's desk. By Vishnu, you tried. Also, I can tell you from personal experience,
bosses don't want just another problem plopped on their desk. They actually have a
lot of work all by themselves. I've found that these folks usually are receptive if you
can give 'em "an out". As long as you don't end up overreaching or sounding
vindictive, or unprofessional, I've always found management generally receptive to
my potential solutions, at least to my face. It definitely takes a light touch to be
sure, but go in there loaded for bear. Even if you don't think they're taking your
word as gospel, you might very well be surprised. If nothing else, you've planted the
seed from which bright little pink slips might someday flower.
Remember, be bold! Be unafraid!
Dare to let your Machiavellian beast out to feast!
I'm going to cut this off here. I have a lot more but I fear I've written a bit too much. I'll continue if there's any interest. I'm guessing that this diary might be a bit too long and a bit too dull so I'd say the chances of me continuing this series are 50/50, either/or, you pick 'em.
XXXOOO
dc