The Mail Never Stops... It Just Keeps Coming, and Coming, and Coming!!!

Over the years we’ve seen and heard about a wide variety of technological advancements that were meant to improve the way businesses operate. Voice mail, all in one copier, printer, faxes, and the little up and down lever on office chairs are some of the ones that come to mind. However, the innovation that has probably had the most impact in the office world is one we’re all familiar with. No, not the morning after pill. I’m talking about Email. Email has revolutionized the way businesses communicate with one another and in the process… become the bane of my existence. Allow me to explain.

Hold on just got an email telling me that there is a pot luck luncheon next Wednesday… RSVP? Yes!

For anyone that doesn’t work in an office the concept of email is very simple. Messages containing coupons, simple memos, newsletters, break up letters and various spam are undoubtedly what you’re accustom to. Working in an office changes your perception of what email really is… a tool of the devil meant to drive a person insane. Seriously, it never stops coming. Every 2 minutes that stupid little alert bell chimes and I rush to see what I’ve received like one of Pavlov’s dogs. It’s degrading in all honesty.

I mean really…*DING*…

…

……

………

Sorry 13 more emails came in. Some person in some office somewhere in the country just released a spreadsheet report about something I’ve never even heard of. Good to know.

Email controls every aspect of office life. Who are we meeting? When are we meeting? Where are we meeting? Can you do this, that, and the other? For the love of all that is holy just stop! Half of the time I receive emails that I’ve been copied on that don’t even pertain to me. As a result, I end up sitting there for 10 minutes wondering, “Why was I copied?” “Why didn’t I know about this?” “Should I have known about this?” It’s absolutely mind bottling.

Oh look, the company newsletter. I wonder if there’s anything useful in it that could help me perform my job or live my life. NOPE! Useful news of the week? Who is this “useful news” helping?

The worst part is all of the system generated alert messages I receive on a daily basis. This project is complete. This group has been sent to processing. Your group has been pended. I receive about 100 of these a day. With about 15 relating to something I’m actively working on. Heaven forbid I take a few days off. The resulting rape of my inbox is like something that should be on Law and Order Special Victims Unit. The best part of all of this is that these alerts are generated for the benefit of the people I work with. Last I checked we sit 2 feet away from one another. We could look at one another and say “Hey asshole your group is done.” Instead it takes 6 emails to relay that message.

Then there’s the Crack berry… I mean Black Berry. If email is an instrument of the devil, then the Black Berry is his own personal vibrator. You may be thinking, “I love my Black Berry!” Yeah, it’s great if you’re using it for the internet and YouTube. Sales reps like to use it as a weapon of mass destruction. I didn’t know I was listed in their address book as Hiroshima. They can’t be bothered to respond to one of my simple questions, but they sure as hell can hit the forward button 47 times in 12 seconds. The best is when they don’t realize I’m copied on an email and insist on forwarding it to me anyways. Thanks! Like I needed 2 copies of the 13 emails I just received. Ugh…

*DING!*

Sorry had to RSVP a meeting

*DING*

Sorry again, they had the wrong time. I Had to RSVP to the new time.

*DING*

And that would be me RSVPing again. Apparently they had the date wrong. I think we’re good now.

Email has reached the point where it’s no longer a useful tool. It’s an epidemic. It needs to be stopped. It’s become so easy to communicate that everyone now feels the need to communicate everything. I don’t need you to tell me you received my email. That’s what the return receipt is for. I don’t need to know that you’re out of the office for your Gyno appointment. Merry Christmas to you too person I don’t know.

Seriously, Can I just have a moment’s peace without having to read an email? Is that so much to ask? Can we just go back to office memos and snail mail? I’m begging you… for my sanity…please?

*DING!*

DONUTS IN THE BREAK ROOM!!!

Mmm… donuts

Damn It, Achmed!

So many of you may not know this by now, but I finally got a real full time job. Unfortunately this job has required me to move to the South. Yes, the South... the deep south. We're so fucking stupid we built our city below sea level South. That's right. I am now a not so proud resident of the not so great state of Louisiana, New Orleans to be exact. I'm not gonna lie, moving and getting adjusted to life outside of Cleveland has been a little rough. For the first time in my life I've finally realized what an amazing culture Cleveland has and how proud of it I am. But that's a topic for another day. The south is interesting to say the least. In the simplest of terms, it's about 40 years behind the rest of the country in terms of innovation and political correctness. But anyways, it's on to the good stuff.

On my first day with Company X I had to travel to Dallas for "Spirit of Company X" day (I'll be referring to my current employer by various names other than its real name to prevent myself from getting fired...yes I'm being dead serious. I can't risk it). So I had to travel to Dallas. I was a little worried about this because I wouldn't have my car and I hate relying on others, especially strangers to get around. Fortunately I landed in Dallas, and made my way to the hotel without incident. Later that night i scheduled myself a cab to get to the office that morning. Everything was set. I was ready for the next day... or so I thought. The Next morning I woke up and got ready to go. Once I got downstairs I saw a truly awesome sight. My cab was parked out front and on time. I breathed a sigh of relief and made my way out the door. Unfortunately I had no idea that my great Dallas adventure was only about to begin. Keep in mind that by adventure I mean a fucking half hour tour around the city on what should have been a 5 minute drive.

I walk outside and the guy, let's call him Achmed, asks me if I'm room 431. Sure enough that's me so i get in the cab. I tell Achmed where I need to be and he's like OK! we pull out of the parking lot and start driving down the road, 2 seconds later he turns and says "OK which way I go? Which direction? I need exit number!" Really...

Are you fucking serious???

I'm from the god damn O-H-I-O, ACHHHHHHHmed. What did your plane land in Dallas 2 days before mine? Seriously? Like really??? Really...

I then spent the next 25 minutes shitting my pants and trying to get ahold of someone...ANYONE... that could tell me how to get to where I needed to be. Of course I call the phone number for the people that set this shit up and they're in Kentucky and never been to the Dallas office. Let's hear it for corporate America in the 21st century.

Achmed's grand idea is to call his dispatch, scream at them in some way that I can only assume was some sort of foreign language...or a sneeze... I'm not really sure. After getting off of the phone we pull into an office complex. I'm thinking sweet we're here....then i see the address. I need 2100. We're at 6300. OK Achmed... not close at all. We pull out and now I'm thinking he knows where he's at and where he needs to be. 2 minutes later he pulls into a second office complex. Again not close to 2100. Really Achmed? This is how we're gonna do this? Pull into every complex till we get lucky? I felt like I was in some bass akwards game of where's Waldo. Eventually though, he figured it out and got me to where I needed to be and surprisingly just in time to be 5 minutes late. Thanks Achhhhhhmed.

Actually I enjoyed the drive so much that I actually called him to pick me up and take me to the airport. Fortunately he knew how to get to the airport.... wait... maybe that's not a coincidence. Oh stereotypes....

When Target and Arabica Collide

So as many of you know, I currently work at Target. Before working at Target I slaved my life away for Arabica Coffee House. Now as many of you can assume these are two very different entities with two very different styles of business. The most glaring of these differences are these things called rules and regulations as well as their enforcement. Target is all about their rules. Arabica... shit, I think the only rule we had was wash your hands... most of the time. You might think I'm kidding there. I'm not. However, despite these differences there seems to be one overwhelming similarity between the two. This would be the people and by people I mean customers, or in Target speak, the guests. Arabica customers and employees shop, and unfortunately work, at Target. This has led to some very awkward exchanges for me. Allow me to explain a little more.

There are a few kinds of encounters I have working at Target with former Arabica customers. Despite how it may begin it always ends the same fucking way, with them assuming we're best friends. Typically I'm met with either an "OH MY GOD HOW ARE YOU!?!?!" or the ever so depressing, "Why do you look so familiar?" "Arabica..." "OH MY GOD HOW ARE YOU!?!?!" How am I you ask? I work at Target for a whopping $7.55 per hour... HOW THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM!!! Seriously. Small talk is exchanged, I end up explaining the tale that is the demise of Arabica, I swear it's a local legend by now, and then a "well it was good seeing you." It's especially awkward when I hated the person to begin with and they believe us to be bosom buddies. I share bosoms with only a select few. If I relied on your "generosity" to support me financially... chances are we do not share bosoms.

The second encounter which is limited to one, thank God are former Arabica customers who I work with. Robb is cool...he is the lone exception. The other R-tard to fall into this category I'm pretty sure is an actual R-tard. Deaf Jimmy, aka Terry FUCKING Bradshaw. He was a deaf guy that used to come into the store and try and place orders. This was a problem because he was deaf, sucked at reading lips, and screamed what he wanted. Communicating with Helen Keller would be easier. Yes a Helen Keller joke. I don;t have the energy to be more creative. Anyways, Terry Bradshaw saw me in the break room and proceed to give me two thumbs down and scream COFFEE SHOP BAD! BAD! BAD COFFEE SHOP! This wasn't awkward at all considering it happened during my first week, in the middle of the break room, in front of like 8 people. Fucking Terry Bradshaw.

Last are the encounters when I run into my fellow co-workers. These are few and far between because when I'm at work I hide. Apparently they all suck at finding me. It's a like this glorified game of hide and seek. But I have to say these encounters are enjoyable. It's good to catch up with them. Let it be known that I know you laugh about my stupid khakis and red shirt as you walk away. It's like I'm Carrie in the final scene of "Carrie" being laughed at up on stage covered in fake blood. Oh if only I had telepathy. REVENGE SHALL BE MINE!!! errr I completely understand, I look like a douche. But I gotta make a living. I can;t wait until the day comes when they all have shitty jobs and I can stop in and "say hello to them" err make fun of them. Fuckers.

So there you have it. Just a simple little glimpse further into my life at Target. You Know you're all jealous.

Target: Screwing the Elderly Since... Wait What?

So today I'm going to share a story that actually happened at Target. I've been working a lot of hours lately so the odds of something funny happening have increased. Today, being Sunday and all, was prime for some priceless exchange. Around 1:30 it happened. There was a call on hold for lawn or patio chairs. It's August so a lot of that stuff has been gone for a while now. However that doesn't stop the masses from harassing me about what they do and don't have. The other factor that makes this just one huge clusterfuck is that every store at this point has different amount of inventory left and at different prices. It's really just a crap shoot. And so our tale begins.

I answer the phone call and it's an elderly man. I know this because, well... he sounds old as dirt. Plus he did that fun thing that old folks love to do on the phone where they say what after everything you say. He proceeds to ask me if we have a specific chair in a specific color. It's at this point I know this is going to end badly. Not only is he asking for something we more than likely don't have, but he wantss wants a specific color. I do what I can and make an honest effort to look. I find what he's looking for, at least I think its what he wanted, I'm still not really sure but I rolled with it. He asks me to put 4 of them on hold and I say yes that I could do that. He then asked me what the price of the chairs was. This is when it got fun.

I tell him that the chairs are priced as is at $30 apiece. He wasn't happy about this...AT ALL. He proceeded to tell me this story about how he was in New York and bought 2 of them there for $15 apiece and that he was looking for 4 more, and how come the price is different. In all honesty who buys lawn chairs or patio furniture when they're on vacation in another state? If you know, please enlighten me. I explained to him Target's policy when it comes to pricing seasonal items after the season has ended and that's when he drops this little nugget on me. "I just don't understand why you're sticking it to the elderly. We don't have money like that. Why would you do that? Charging a different price for the same thing." He then tried to haggle with me. At least I think he was trying to haggle with me. I'm not really sure because there was no actual offer. In retrospect I'm surprised he didn't off me a goat or one of his daughter's hands in marriage. Or better yet, one of his goats in marriage or one of his daughters for milk... think about it.

Anyways, I ask him one more time if he wanted the chairs put on hold. He says sure but in that way that kind of tells me "sure put those on hold for me. Go to all that trouble and then I'm not going to come in and get them thus wasting all of your time." I love it when I get that tone from people. the whole conversation becomes a pissing contest, only I'm rendered "pissless" because well... I need my job. So i ask him for the name and he gives it to me. Then...THEN he asks me what my name is. Ultimately I'm sure it's so he can throw me under the bus if in fact he does come in. What an asshole. The long and short of this all tells me that these Target stories suck ass. Seriously if you read this and actually laughed at all... Thank you. I miss my old job. The stories were sooooo much better.

Karma's a Bitch, Ain't it Kids? (Uncensored)

Warning: The following post includes crude language

and jokes... more so than normal. I did not censor myself.

And we have come full circle. What do I mean you ask? Well, with Wickliffe being the hotbed for gossip that it is, it was only a matter of time until we learned something about the fate of Arabica Wickliffe and those mother fuckers who screwed all of us over. For those of you just now tuning in, or for those that need a recap of the events that took place, allow me to tell you a tale. To paint a picture if I may. To spin a web of sarcastic irony.

Back in February of this past year, The No Name Cafe, aka Fut(fuck)bol Cafe, aka Arabica, aka piece of crap was bought by a family. This wasn't just any family however. In fact Ryko told us that we were bought by a man, who would be dubbed "The Owner," who was very family oriented. In fact, he was so family oriented in fact that he decided to procreate with his succubus, demon woman wife. seriously... there's bitch... and then there was this woman. How "The Owner" was physically able to become sexually aroused enough by the sight of this apron over dress wearing 24/7 "woman" to be able to stick his penis inside of her. MORE THAN ONCE! (I use the term woman loosely, which is also ironic because after popping out twelve kids I'm sure you could park a semi truck in her vag) But honestly, my dick ran and hid from this woman like a fucking ninja turtle fighting The Shredder when she was around. I would rather had sex with a young Vietnamese girl during the Vietnam war. Sure they hid razor blades in there to fuck over the soldiers but those wounds heal. The psychological wounds of being with that hell beast would never wash away. OK, I've really, REALLY gotten off track here...back to where I was going.

Anyways, "The Owner" bought us out, switched us back to Arabica, and then after subjecting us to zero communication, an operations manager that would make Ben Stein look like Robin Williams, and then his pig whore wife coming in and turning everything upside down.... they let us go. Every single one of us. Well technically Matt and Lorrie were spared, but it was only temporary. Our Family was broken. Over the course of the year leading into these events we had been through some devastating events. Davor sold the business and essentially broke up with Tony. It was like our parents got divorced and we were the kids left taking the blame. Was it our fault? Could we have done more? Who knows. All I know is that instead of making sure the kids were OK we were left in the care of the world's worst foster parent...Ryko. Hindsight being 20/20... we would have been better off being left in the care of a child molester. But it was OK, because Ryko sold the business and we were getting a new owner, a new start, someone wanted us god damn it! and then the events played out and we were cast aside like the trash that over flowed from the back dumpster after 3 weeks.

In the aftermath of it all some of us were left unemployed, others found there way to places such as Marc's, Target, Red Lobster and Panini's, understanding what it meant to actually have to work for a living. It was a strange new concept and we hated it. I think I worked more in one week at Target than I had worked in 1 year at Arabica. Things haven't really been or felt the same since. Sure we keep in contact, but not how we used to. But one thing has kept us united throughout it all... our loathsome hatred for "The Owner," Twatosaurus Rex, and their Jesus freak family. Well, as fate would have it we would have our redemption of sorts.

This past weekend through the grapevine that is Wickliffe it was discovered that "The Owner" and She-Beast were getting a divorce. It's so tragic. Really, we're all crying on the inside for them (jerking off motion). So what does this mean exactly? Well I'm sure there were a number of factors at play. The buying of two stores probably without Medusa's approval by "The Owner." The fact that "The Owner" was married to the queen bitch of all bitches. And they have twelve kids, some of them still very young. That's a lot of fucking child support. *WARNING: JON AND KATE PLUS 8 JOKE AHEAD* I think at this point all that's left is for the owner to sit down with Jon Gosselin and have him spill his secrets for picking up drunken party sluts all while raising a fucking litter. Meanwhile Kate and Ursula can get together and hold the first meeting of the Queen Bitches Society. Topics on the ledger for that meeting are rumored to be "How to Better Control a Man" and "How to Steal Ariel's Voice...Again."

So there you have it. Karma has come back to officially bite these people in the ass. Does it make me feel like a terrible person to be laughing at their misfortune and how their family has been broken? It did... for a millisecond. Then I thought about what they put us through for 3 months and how they ended it. The unprofessional, discourteous, down right despicable way in which they treated us. It only makes sense. If they are willing to treat other people like that, how must that have treated each other? Helps explain A LOT, at least I think so. All I can hope for is that "The Owner" keeps his fucking empire in his pants and that Jabba the Hut doesn't score some kind of lucrative book deal. I wonder if Kate is looking for a business partner...Oops, that was another of those jokes.

New Feature: The Scoreboard

Nicknames Used For Owner's Wife:

Demon Woman

Bitch

apron over dress wearing 24/7 "woman"

The Shredder (comparison purposes)

Hell Beast

Pig Whore Wife

Twatasaurus Rex

She-Beast

Medusa

Queen Bitch

Ursula *bonus points for a Disney reference*

Jabba the Hut

Jon and Kate Plus 8 Jokes: 2... I'm sorry... so very, very sorry....

Long over due...

So I now I haven't posted anything on here in a long, long while. It seems to be a problem with motivation and partly because writing about the exploits of my life at Target and my previous job makes me realize how much I miss that wonderful place I called a workplace for close to 7 years. Target just isn't the same. Anyways, enough of that nostalgia crap. On to the good stuff.

I've come to realization lately that in order to retain a lot of the funny crap that happens at work I have to actually care about the job. I don't really care much about Target and because of it, nothing sticks! I've sat here for probably 20 minutes trying to think of something funny that's happened which would be worth mentioning because people might find it funny, but I can't. I can go on and on about Arabica stories for hours on end because I'm convinced I cared about that job. Also a story about a broken can of hairspray doesn't really compare to a story about someone shitting in a urinal or creating a soccer themed cafe in America. So here we go. Arabica story time.

Our second boss Carlo had a little bit more going on upstairs than Ryko, but not much. Under the Carlo regime we were a sunglasses rounder, cigarette vending machine, and gas pump away from being a gas station. Seriously the guy brought in the Ohio Lottery to sell scratch off lotto tickets. I'm also pretty sure the way were were doing it was illegal because he didn't know how to account for the tickets or pay out the money properly. He also served home made wine to minors. smart guy.

However the best part about Carlo was his "extra curricular activities." He would lock himself in his office for hours on end. We had all joked that Carlo was looking at porn again. Did we actually think he was looking at porn? ya... kinda sorta. there was evidence but not anything really of substance other than the door was always locked and he would take 15 minutes to come out if you needed him. After Carlo's reign came to an end a shocking discovery was made. John, the owner of the building and our first boss was helping Tony figure out the computer and finding all the files for the store. They soon discovered that yes, Carlo in fact was looking at porn. However, it wasn't your typical guy on girl type of stuff. Carlo had been spending all of this time looking at gay porn and surfing gay internet chat rooms. This quickly helped us realize why our staff went from female dominated to a fucking sausage fest and also why a video camera which broadcast to a TV in said office was installed. I feel so violated. The most ironic part of this whole situation is that at one point Carlo attempted to fire our gay, weekend piano player because he "didn't want that kind of stuff in there." I'm thinking that maybe he asked him out and Carlo got shot down. it's kind of sad really.

Hey There... How's It Goin'?

Sooooo... I successfully went the entire month of May without posting a single update. Give it up for me! It's not that I didn't have things to write about. It was more a matter of motivation and free time. I didn't really have much of either during May. However, I've found my hours at Target dwindling and now on a boring ass Tuesday afternoon I really don't have much else to do. So what's going on in my world?

First, as you can all guess I work at Target still, aka the retard mecca of the world. Seriously, last night a woman kept asking the same stupid question over and over because she didn't understand the difference between a chair and a table. The job is slowly killing my will to live. I need to get out of their or find another primary job and pronto. I mean as much as I love cashing paychecks for a whopping $70 every two weeks. Ugh...

Anyways, funny story time. The only question is what do I want to tell? Ok let's go with this. Target generally has a policy where if there is a discrepancy about a price then cashiers should give it to the guest for the price they thought it was going to be as long as it's within about $20 of the actual price. Last week a very hormonal and pregnant woman tried to buy a pair of swim goggle she thought cost $6.00. They got rung up for $8. Now the rational decision here is to change the price to $6 and everyone is happy, but no. the GSTL for that night decided she was going to have a war of words with this woman. This led to a price inquiry which i had to deal with. The woman decided to come back to sporting goods where I was working and see for herself. I was then stuck because the peg she got them from said $6...only it was the wrong peg. When I walkied the front end I got the response, "then they're $8." Great. The woman hears the response and then proceeded to go on a profanity laced tirade towards me about prices and customer satisfaction, and how to be a competent human being and how the GSTL was a bitch, and ya it lasted a good 5 minutes. And i just had to sit their and listen to it. Granted i could have said something, but then I'd be unemployed... again. what a bitch!