June 7, 2007
Here's a Dark Secret
I am a redundant cog. Of course, the ex has been telling me that for years, but it's true! At least where I grasp my filthy, soiled, ACH'd paycheck.
I put up a good front, like everyone does, but I tell you: I put Spanky the Monkey in my office chair for two days, and monitored the phone calls, and Spanky actually did a better job. By his silence. By not caving on pricing.
I've written a treatise, to be delivered to my organization upon my departure, on how useless I am, thanks to them. But it was inevitable anyway. The old slap on the back relationship with customers has been replaced by software driven decision making. And that's fine. As it should be.
But I'm out here in the cold. My org is convinced I'm vital, I guess, by the same specious logic that convinces them they're vital.
Bullshit. My monkey did a better job. Why? Productivity is better handled by machines. Take the human element out of the equation, because it's biased. I hate it, but it's true. Hell, I have a hundred Indians screwed to laptops on the 24th floor, calling me to tell me my decisions don't fit their algorithms. Can't I see? Well, no, boys. It was a judgment call. Won't be more of those, apparently. And they're good guys. Subcontinental quants, is all. They'll be let go too, next month. Time to bring in fresh ragheaded folk.
I should be outsourced. In fact, I need the severance pay. But I show up, and huff and puff, and it's a fucking travesty.
I need a long walk on the beach, and a candlelight dinner, and sweet consensual sex. Paid for by a lonely administrative assistant, who doesn't realize she's next. Because we all work for meat processors. I just figured that out.
P.S. She's at the end of the bar. Don't say anything.
Excuse me. Is this the Ehornyme Dating Service for drunks, hos and other miscreants? I understand you're running a special this week. I'd like more information....
Posted by: Libby at June 7, 2007 10:58 PMSeven inches long, seven inches around, and apparently unemployable. Will work for sex.
Posted by: Velociman at June 7, 2007 11:03 PM7 inches around? Dang... that made me come out of lurk mode ;)
Posted by: Chickie at June 8, 2007 9:03 AMNow don't go underestimatin' us assistant-types TOO much. I know what you look like. Bet a LOT of us do.
Posted by: Freddie at June 8, 2007 11:23 AMOh shit. Well, if it gets "that bad" you're welcome at my place. I'll give you a couple chores, easy ones, don't worry man, I'm not gonna crimp your style. You can drive me anywhere I need to go for starters. And yes, you may fish with me should you decide to do so. I'll still do the dishes. Is that deal ok with you VelOscarman?
You buy the milk.
Love Felix
PS: If I lose my livelihood, we're goin' to Tennessee to live with Eric... We'll just show up at a meet, and then, uh, never leave. Maybe we can heard his mexicans for a livin'.
They're flummoxed in this small town, because I actually measure the performance of all of our many advertisements and coupons, and ask them to adjust their prices accordingly.
I don't mind paying for good performance, but hell if I'm gonna pay premium for some limp figures just because, "you've always been in our publication!" The umbrage is palpable. My resolve is pitiless.
But I got my work cut out for me cuz the Spanky Monkey before me sat there and signed every contract that crossed the desk. Don't teach 'em how to hold a pen, V-man! They get monkey-drunk with power.
Posted by: Joan of Argghh! at June 8, 2007 6:29 PMYou eeeediots! He was describing his homunculus.
Posted by: rankin' rob at June 8, 2007 7:55 PMYour references leave me speechless V-man. I can't believe you're having trouble finding employment with those qualifications.
Posted by: Libby at June 8, 2007 9:38 PM... you can stay a week, Redneck... after that, you leave or get shot... Velociman can only stay three days....
Posted by: Eric at June 9, 2007 8:40 AMDinner's on me...
Posted by: Jean at June 9, 2007 11:28 AMHang in there homeboy.
Posted by: Michael Vick at June 10, 2007 12:21 PMWTF Rankin'... it ain't hard enought on a 'neck when V-man drops five dollar words on me, now his homie's gotta start that shit. WTF is homunculus, hell I can't even read that word while my lips are moviin'? Can't you pronounce Nuclur? Say what you mean man. V-man's gone Nuclur, I get.
Eric, No V-man, no 'Neck. Shoot us both at the end of day 3 while we're sleepin(not sleepin' together, I needed to clarify that point, 'cause we don't, even though he's a horny fucker, I'm saving myself) preferably. I don't want to witness the fear of the shovel.
Scares me just hearin' about it... I still think I'd have just grinned at it... and asked, you need help diggin' that hole?