yeah, its me. living the American dream.
I thought I would start off by telling you a little about me.
But not too much, because I would like to remain semi anonymous, kinda. But anyone with more than three brain cells can figure it out.
I live at a place I call the redneck Riviera, a little hamlet on the edge of a body of water in North Eastern Pennsylvania, or NEPA as it is sometimes called.
I have a best friend for a wife, a Sauce for a son, two dogs (sometimes three), two turtles, and a truck which I sometimes call Frank.
I am college edjumicated, enjoy my work (sometimes), and like pretty much every body I work with, Except one asshole, whom I will tell more about later.
I work for a large corporation based in Philadelphia, which allows me to travel a bit. one of the more rewarding aspects, I must say. I do enjoy seeing and doing new things.
These are the highlights of my day yesterday:
Got to the Occupation about 8 am, began to execute my "Pattern of Management". This is a series of events which give me some structure, and allows me to complete some pretty mundane tasks, like reading emails, collecting data from different stations around my work place on the nights before's production, correcting timecards, etc. Pretty lame and douchey, I know.
Once I finish some of those, I get a cup of coffee (another perk of my job, a Starbucks in the same building), and get to some real interaction with people, I like this best. I get to work with some talented people, and some not so talented, but hey, we all got our place, Right? Right.
We have some busy periods where I have to manage production, solve issues, put out fires, and generally keep things moving. not so bad, Right? Right.
Then the meetings start.
Sometimes they are productive, sometimes they are semi productive, and sometimes they turn into one person doing all the talking, not wanting any interaction, and overall pretty much like having your fingernails pulled out with a needle nose pliers and then soaked in lemon juice while getting repeatedly punched in the kidney, making you want to scream and pass out from the pain of boredom and frustration.
I had two of those yesterday. done and done.
Now on to the Asshole.
I work with a pretty diverse dynamic. Everyone from high school kids to octogenarians. all doing different jobs from different walks of life. I get it, we all gotta work. I was in a remote part of the building doing some organizing of a storage area, not wanting to damage it, I placed my portable cellular telephone on a shelf in said storage area. I then proceeded to leave the storeroom with out picking it back up, I know stupid Right? Right. but the storeroomwas locked, so I thought it safe, the worlds not gonna end if I dont have my phone/internet/address book/ camera/ twitter machine/facebook portal/ distraction machine.
about half an hour later I went down there, passed another employee in the hallway, gave him the obligatory 'sup chin lift, and went to get my phone. no phone. vanished, gone, WTF!
did I leave it some where else? was it on my desk? did I shove it up my arse to keep it safe from my enemies? nope, I checked all of these places.
I proceeded to go to another floor that was open for business in my building to ask if any one had found it, passed the aforementioned ' sup recipient, and asked him if he had seen or picked up a phone while he was down starirs, his answer was a confused look, and a "nope". yeah, and monkeys might just fly out of my butt, right now.
So, I went to my friend who works on that floor and told her to repeatedly call my phone and perhaps I will here it ring on my way back up to my office. sure she said. two seconds later, she says is that Katy Perry I hear? why yes it is, because that's my ringtone.
BABY, YOU'RE A FIREWORK!
Now, anybody that knows me, doesn't think this is strange, because I am a straight heterosexual male. who just likes Katy Parry, Its got a good beat, and you can dance to it.
So we go into the hallway where everybody hangs their coats and personal belongings, and someones backpack, or fanny pack, or whatever you want to call it is bursting across the sky-I-I. I pick it up and bring it into the office, and ask to see the person whose it is. guess who? 'Sup chin up boy, otherwise known as The Asshole.
I ask for my phone, he gives to me while it is still ringing and says "sorry man, I didnt know it was yours" a heartless criminal, indeed.
bottom line is, I got my phone back, he no longer has a job,
and Katy Perry dropped the dime on his ass.
Pistolgrip Out.
