My Jeans!

Recently Steal Your Soul broke bad and introduced “Jeans Friday” which is a really dorky white guy term for “Casual Friday”.  You guys!  It’s 1994! We’re so progressive over here!  Anyways, we were presented with the exciting news via an e-mail reminding us that yes; we can wear jeans but remember Steal Your Soul is a professional environment and keep that in mind when selecting your outfit.  Sad when I read that because that meant my ripped jeggings were “out”.  Anyways, when I first received this e-mail I thought there was not a chance in hell that A number 1-I wanted to see any of my coworkers in jeans or B number 2-have any of my coworkers peep me in my jeans.

I was off last Friday and luckily escaped “Jeans Friday” but was warned via text that I would need to wear jeans “or else”.  I inquired about this dire warning on Monday and was told that basically I would be totally and completely ‘effed’ if I didn’t participate.  Do I say “fuck you” and don my normal attire (bringing it back to basics) or do I ‘give in’ and putting on a pair of god damn jeans in August?  Because I am weak in mind, body and soul, I am currently wearing jeans.  However, my manager said I was totally ‘crushing’ my 1950’s look so I guess I’ll take that as a compliment whilst I pop my ‘ludes and make martinis.  But I digress.  What about everyone else’s jeans?

1-Cougar Jeans.  I had no idea so many Cougars worked here but I know several people (hey!) who wished they could check out these divorcees in their jeans, stiletto boots (in the summer? Sure! They are slaves to fashion!) and low cut sweaters.  I can practically envision these jeans draping themselves all over the fetuses at Kona Grill later. Looking good, y’all! Looks like your lunch time yoga is paying off. Downward dog for life!

2-Mom Jeans. Now this I was expecting.  I’m already envisioning these jeans cheering loudly for their kid’s soccer game tomorrow and then maybe swinging by Friendly’s for a sweet treat afterward.  Sure, you’re watching your “points” but go for it! Heck, it is Saturday after all!

3-IT Jeans.  You have a job in Information Technology.  You went to a “technical institute” and have no time for things like clothes, women and moving out of your parent’s basement.  Your jeans are light in color with a relatively loose fit.  These jeans are quite accustomed to having a cell phone attached to them.  Heart these bros who clearly do not give one half a fuck about what they look like.  Form over function? Nah, go fuck yourself, busy coding on the ones and zeroes.

So there you have it! An entire post about jeans!  I think I’m ‘back’ now so yay! Have a terrible weekend, you guys!

Fun in the Workplace!

Birthday flowers! 😦

Hi guys.  Do you miss hearing about TSaur?  I bet you do!  I miss telling you all about him, too!  Because it’s been a minute, this is going to be long, so bear with me. Just know I still hate him and he still smells.  Crucial.

Earlier this month my manager forced me to have a meeting with MP to discuss all the things he was doing wrong in hopes of “promoting his development” since he’s not “good with detail” and “takes offense when his mistakes are pointed out to him”. I.e. teach him how to dougie because he’s a mental midget.  However, considering I’m not his manager nor do I care; I took this opportunity to give him this simple advice: Everything you’re doing right now, do the opposite of that and I think you’ll go far. 

Since he is the biggest moron I’ve ever encountered he takes his “professional development program” to kiss the ass of everyone unfortunate enough to be in this department.  As such, he offers to pay for everyone’s “Birthday Club” admission.  (Just typing “Birthday Club” made me cry inside, BTW).  Anywhoos, Birthday Club is a terrible, awful event that takes place each month and I’ve been a birthday club dropout for years. Read more about it here.  Just know that my response to MP was that I’m a birthday club dropout by choice because I prefer to interact with most coworkers never.

A few weeks ago he creepily bought me flowers for my birthday and placed them on my desk with a card saying they were “from the team”.  I refused to acknowledge said flowers and three weeks later they’re still sitting on my desk rotting away.  See picture of said birthday flowers above.

Last Thursday he decided to bring in breakfast “for the team”. I debated calling in sick to avoid the awkward interaction, but decided that free is free so fuck it and why burn a sick day when I’m not hungover?  He went to a Panera about forty miles away (no, really) as opposed to the one right down the street (really) and spent what must have been upwards of fifty bones on various breakfast sweet treats. Halfway through I was about to have a total and complete panic attack and had to excuse myself and eat the rest of my bear claw in the solitude of the copy room. (No, really).

Because the sound of his voice makes me want to throw a million baby clots, I’ve been forced to listen to music at a volume loud enough to cause permanent hearing damage. As such, a fun side effect of this coping mechanism is that MP scares the shit out of me at least twice a day. He’s a sidler and the next thing I know there he is invading my personal space smelling my cube to shit.  Yesterday he wanted to show me his new cell phone.

MP: I have a new cell phone.

Me: ……

MP: It gets the internet.

Me: (turning around) Neat.

This morning he sidled up next to me once again and asked if I wanted to “grab lunch” with him.

MP: Wanna grab lunch today?

Me: No, I’m going to the gym today.

MP: What about another day this week?

Me: I will be at the gym for lunch always.  (Side note: I am not, but that’s beside the point).

MP: How about breakfast then?

Me: (As I eat my breakfast) I do not eat breakfast ever.

MP: Ever?

Me: Yes.

So there you have it. A full and complete rundown of the past month with the worst coworker to ever exist on the planet.  Aren’t you happy you’re not me?  Samesies!

A Very Richmond Edition of Wednesday Randoms

Last night I sashayed shanted myself to the Style Weekly Very Richmond party. It was loads of fun but the highlight of the evening was seeing the infamous Meade Skelton perform not one, not two but three songs. He crooned his heart out and ended it with my fav “Hipsters Ruin Everything” because you know, when you think about it, they really do.  After his rousing performance I even got to shake his hand and give him a hug Café Darkness style! Squee! I think he gave my glass of wine the stink eye, though. Sorry, it’s not Cheerwine, Meade.

Did you know you’re very Richmond if you have a blog and think you’re way more clever than you really are?  It’s true! Take me for example. I think I’m funnier than I am in reality.  I also abhor nuts in my sweet treats, bed and breakfasts, and the word “sprout” but that’s another story all together!

My one-way ticket to hell was signed, sealed and delivered this morning when I could barely contain my laughter as a coworker described a party she went to last week. She said she ran into an old friend who was having a grand ole time dancing and laughing and taking pictures like bananas with his girlfriend. In between cutting a carpet, she said that he told her he had to be on dialysis three times a week and used to be homeless. I could barely get out the question between the tears to please explain and let me get this straight; I can’t pay a guy to take me out to get a god damn Wendy’s combo number 3 but a fucking ex-hobo with busted kidneys is getting laid on the regs? Nice. I’m still chuckling, by the way.

My manager is on a cruise this week. I’m glad she can afford to go on vacation, because I sure as shit can’t. (HIRE ME!) In typical TLW style I am taking full advantage of the lack of supervision by coming in an hour late, taking two hour lunches and bouncing early as a mofo.  This has been the best week ever.

Monday’s question of the day!

Today I ate the grossest thing I’ve ever eaten in my entire life:  Kashi hot breakfast cereal.  Have you, or someone you love,  been subjected to the gruel-like consistency of this “food” product?  I have an entire box to consume so I’ll be talking about this all week.  Fair warning.

And the Survey says Wednesday Edition

There is a fierce debate going on over at Facespace about which is most dangerous. Vote your values and let your voice be heard!

And the Survey Says…

Shake your tail feathers!

I just won a wheel barrow race when they took this!

 

Hey there, Barista!

 

Remember when you went to your fancy leadership class way back in August? Well guess what?  It’s my turn now!  You were silly and said you were a magical peagle. I’m not some stupid peagle-I’m a peacock! I shake my tail feathers to get people’s attention and try real hard to make people listen to me. I am also expressive and like to tell people my feelings. When I found that out I giggled a lot. I’m a lot like you too, though. I’m kinda bossy and don’t like people telling me what to do.

 

In between camp fires and s’mores I also learned I don’t like following rules and question authority. It’s all so weird!  I got too scared to play Bloody Mary before bed but afterwards I made out with a boy in the bathroom and I braided you a neat friendship bracelet. I hope you like it!  If you don’t then I’ll probably get real ornery like a peacock and try to bite your hand.  Just kidding, B. I wouldn’t do that that to ya! 

 

Gee whiz, I sure do hope I can come home from camp soon. I miss our smoke breaks and shit talking.  K, bud. See you soon!

 

xoxo,

 

TLW

2010 Professional Goals!

Pretending to care is hard work!

Even more pointless than the year end employee review where you are told how great of an employee you are and how they sure do wish they could give you a raise but gosh darn it we’re just too busy giving old white guys raises so you are shit out of luck is the meeting in the beginning of the year to discuss your “professional goals” for the year ahead.  Now if I weren’t paid less than the secretary (truth) then perhaps this would be a fruitful exercise.  As it stands now, that is not the case so any mention of “projects” or “new responsibilities” makes me giggle like a school girl.  I’m a firm believer in the mantra, “You get what you pay for” so if you want to pay me 20% below the pay grade for my job then you will get 20% less productivity from the year before. So, what are my goals then?  Easy. 

1-Increase my resentment and bitterness toward Steal Your Soul, Inc.  Continue to fantasize about quitting in a blaze of glory. 

2-Look for other places of employment while, at the same time, resisting the urge to accept another equally mind numbing job. 

3-Complacency, complacency, complacency! If ain’t broke certainly don’t expend any additional energy trying to fix it. 

4-Push the limits of “business casual” attire.  It’s all about comfort, y’all and wearing fancy work clothes is just too much effort. 

5-See how often I can bring up my salary to middle and upper management at any opportunity.  Make others uncomfortable due to discrepancy in pay.  For example:

Manager: Have you tried that new place that opened up last week around the corner?

Me: No. I only have $12.52 to last me until we get paid again in 11 days.

Manager: ……..

Me: Right. 

I’m excited about 2010’s professional goals. I only hope I can live up to my own high standards. I’ve always been my hardest critic!

How we met!

I mean!

It’s no secret Barista and I met at Steal Your Soul, Inc., but what you may not know is that we were not friends straight away. Nay! Even though her desk was just several feet away from mine, I sat in a cube of solitude for upwards of six months before anyone would even talk to me.  (People here are real friendly).  Most workers at Steal Your Soul, Inc. are old as dirt.  You could ask the average worker where they were when Lincoln was assassinated youknowwhatI’msayin so when there is someone else that is not old, male, rich and white you take notice.  Enter in Crazy Coworker #3.  Crazy was a nice enough girl but certifiably insane.  At the time we were not aware of her crazy so when she randomly asked the two of us to happy hour one evening we both hopped on it post haste. 

Immediately I was impressed with both Crazy and Barista’s abilities to hold their liquor, smoke cigs with abandon and shit talk about coworkers until last call.  The friendship was signed, sealed and delivered. However, it soon became apparent that Crazy was a bit much. Case in point: telling us about her crystal meth addiction and how she overcame it the first time we hung out, cutting lines like whoa the second time we hung out, her boyfriend’s Box O’ Drugs the third time we hung out and finally her tendency for shooting guns inside her home.  On the work front she had a penchant for taking multiple bereavement leaves for the death of her grandmother to whom she was not related and calling in sick for three days straight because of a “hand rash”.   Major props to when she refused to take her sunglasses off at work because of “light sensitivity”. 

Now I applaud her blatant disregard for this hell hole, but back in the day when I actually gave a rip I didn’t want her shenanigans reflecting poorly on me since it was obvious were all friends.  Unfortunately Barista and I had to pre breakup with Crazy and let her go live her life.  She quit not long after and we continue to awkwardly run into places like the Cleveland International Airport (!), City Limit whilst talking shit about her (!) and when taking classes at VCU (!).  This girl is harder to shake than a bad case of Crabs!  Please note it is my fervent belief this would only happen in the RVA.  I miss Crazy sometimes and wish she would pop in more often. It’s also nice to compare my life to hers and realize it’s not so bananas after all.

A Moment with Cafe Darkness

An email exchange from the ladies of CD.  Always ladylike, we keep our disagreements civil and find resolutions that are mutually satisfying.  Except for when TLW is sweet on her cab driver and the Barista starts bitching about the meter.  Or whenever Walmart or the Black Eyed Peas are mentioned.  In those instances,  truth bombs are thrown with no mercy.

B: Are you here? 

T: I’m back from lunch now! What’s up? 

B: I wanted to go smoke at Penny Lane.  You know, for old times sake.

 T: Dang.  There’s always after work….

 B: Was going to fitness @ 5:30 and would need a shower…

 T: Well just let me know! I lunch timed fitnessed so I’m free and clear.

 B: Did you really just let my dilemma between fitness and smoking go unchecked? 

 T: Jesus Christ-what was I thinking?  Mea culpa!

 B: You should be ASHAMED of yourself.

 B: All caps usage intentional.

 T: I read that with EMPHASIS so good job. I am ashamed of myself. Promise to never speak of this again nor tell anyone? 

 B: I’m going to go blog it on the mountain.  O’re the hills and every where.  Unless…

 T: Oh dear. I am frightened. What do you require? IN MY DEFENSE I was in the middle of working on the budget-which is tedious and mathy. I know it’s not an excuse but it’s an explanation

B:  Unless you walk with me to the market and smoke one in Penny Lane.   Let’s schedule an uber urgent meeting in Outlook.  How do I access the high importance font?

PS – Nice work on the bolded caps.  I am supremely irritated.

 T: Counter offer: I will give you a donation and we smoke outside.  The reason for my counter offer is that I have a meeting at three that I just realized and need to get ready for. I can come down post haste!

 B: Deal