Baboon Pirates

Scribbles and Scrawls from an unrepentant swashbuckling primate.

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Location: Texas, United States

Friday, November 04, 2005

More Fun With The Man

At Least It Won't Be Televised...

This summer, all the assorted divisions in our department had these little one-day retreats with the Director. Wasn't much a retreat, really. More of a tactical withdrawal.

We were tucked into a tiny conference room in the subbasement of The Man's lair, got a fruit plate, granola bars and some lukewarm OJ in return for sitting down and listing all the things that are going wrong/right, and what we ought to do about it. This should have taken 2 hours, tops. Naturally, it went on all day.

Now, I've only been here a little over a year, and the Director doesn't appear to think all that highly of me as it is, so I kept mum on my chief complaint, which is there's just a plethora of ignunt-ass people populating cubicles around here. Oh, they're nice enough, but to quote 'Time Bandits', quite a few are mercifully free of the ravages of intelligence.

So, this week I get the cheery news that one of the other groups had a complaint that "people weren't aware of what the other divisions did all day", and that we must rectify this situation.

Jesus H. Tapdancing Christ. It's only been gone over in three staff meetings that I can recall. It's in our employee guide. It's on the farookin' website. Still, some people apparently still don't understand why some of us go places and do things, while they remain in their little square habitats and shuffle papers.

To combat this lack of comprehension, one of the Division Managers (thankfully NOT the one I report to) had the brilliant idea that each division, at successive staff meetings, should... (get ready for it...)

Act out a skit to visually demonstrate to all employees just what we do for a living.

Oh... Mah... Ghod... Welcome back to Summer Camp. Only I don't get to be drunk for the opening campfire this time.

So, next week yours truly will have to perform like a trained monkey while my boss grinds on the barrel organ. I have my script ready. My boss already approved it. I also have my backup script, which I have not mentioned to anyone. It's different in oh-so-many subtle ways. I can't wait to see how my co-workers react when I start the ad-libbing.

Things like this is why it's patently unfair that we get pee-tested. I now have a legitimate need for medical marijuana, just to keep the top of my head from blowing out like a jack in the box.

Sigh. At least there's a fresh bottle of Maker's Mark waiting for me at home.