There are times at work when someone from your sector doesn't make an appearance.
And sometimes a few people don't.
This is a case of the latter.
When people from you're sector don't come to work, they send people from other sectors.
Sometimes this is fine, a few people are trained on everything.
But on rare occasions (and by rare I mean almost all the time) the person they send knows nothing about the job, and can barely find their way to the boiler room to get to my sector.
This presents a problem for the other people.
Instead of working hard, I now have to work my ass off.
And when the new guy gets sent to my sector, and I have to train him on how to do the job, as well as actually get my job done too, it's a bit harder day.
Now it gets interesting.
The new guy hits my sector, ("E" Sector) I've already ask about him, the response isn't good.
A friend of a friend, the Good-Ol-Boy system hard at work again!
So not only do I have to get my job done, and train him, but I also have to see that this ass clown doesn't put the whoopee cushion in the wrong chair all night.
This trick only works with proper set-up and I've got to make sure he doesn't eat the fake dog turds.
Prime example of someone Rev talks about.
The guy you expect to make a poop army, play Risk with himself, and devour the losing team as punishment for their insolence and war crimes.
Lemme tell ya here folks (and folkettes) if you're dropping off your child at the babysitters house, and before you leave you hear your little darling tell the sitter "I told you you'd hurt yourself." are you really gonna have that night out?
E Sector is the most difficult one on the whole compound.
It's busy, it smells funny, and you have to keep a look out, making sure the machines don't revolt. (They're revolting enough already.)
I guess I'm just an old fuddy-duddy when it comes to people F-ing up my work station.
Hire the handicapped! They're fun to watch.
Don't let 'em getcha.
4 comments:
Congratulations! You have made the great leap from New Guy to Old Head. You have got a sector all your own and don't want anybody moving your cheese. Heck, you didn't even want me to touch it, remember? Hee hee hee.....
Part of our job, aside from doing our job, is to train the new cannon fodder and weed out the uncompetent. Remember young Mr. Nose Hair? He's been weeded.
We are compelled to give them a weapon and can only hope it's just their foot they shoot and not one of ours. Get out your hoe and set to weeding, but just make sure it's really a weed and not a prized petunia bulb before you yank it up by the roots. That rutabaga you just pulled up on might save your life, someday.
That rutabaga could have gotten smeone hurt yestrday.
It left 2 oportunities open in the first 30 minutes.
Some people didn't think I could work the machines, but I didn't leave them running unattended.
If that rutabaga saves my tail any day, I'll lick Auntie's friends boots.
Well, we did wonder about you, at first. But we wonder about everybody, at first. Is he going to be okay or is he going to get me off in a wreck? Will he be there when the stuff goes down or am I going to have to meet him in the parking lot later and thump his ears off? I didn't work with him so I can't judge yet. If nothing else, maybe he'll accidentally fall in front of a bullet for you.
And I'd shy away from those boots, if I were you. They looked like someone had already licked them.
Poke..... poke.... you still alive over there?
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