Attention fair citizens of Northport:
It seems that my last plea for you to cease being mind-numbingly stupid has fallen on deaf ears. Deaf. Ears. And I do not mean “hearing impaired” — a phrase which seems to imply that there might be some semblance of hearing left… no, the ears on which that plea fell were totally deaf.
The problem, of course, is that despite my best efforts to inform you otherwise, you come to me the picosecond you walk through the door. Many of you do not even attempt to find what you’re looking for… you simply assume that I will not mind telling you where to go (and don’t worry, I would really like to). This would not be a problem if there were fewer of you… or if you were hot… but clearly there are a lot of you, and furthermore you (most of you, anyway) were not even hot when you were young enough to be… let alone now that not even your children are young enough. As a result, I’m asked where something is located (by people I’d rather not talk to) roughly three times a second.
Now, I would understand your confusion if I did not have five computers in this office, all in varying states of operation and assembly… some of them flashing arcane and bewildering (even to me) messages. These things are what we in the business (the business of not being a complete dumbass, that is) call “context clues”. What these “context clues” should tell you is that, among other things, I am not a fucking secretary. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a secretary (fucking or otherwise), but I am not one. It is not my job to take messages for you, give you directions to 2100 Main St. in East Bumblefuck, or tell you where to get your tag renewed. If I had my way, you would not need your tag renewed because, last I checked, you did not need a tag for your car when you’re burning in the firey pits of hell.
So I’m closing my door for the rest of the week, and I swear to Paris that if you knock on it, or peer through my window like I’m some sort of new attraction in the reptile house at the city zoo, I will strangle you with your own intestines.
Toodles,
Your friendly city IT Manager
Your friendly city IT Manager
You certainly don’t sound very friendly….
Is it possible to be suffocated by sarcasm? Just checking.
I AM FRIENDLY, DAMNIT!!
Yea Pete, we are becoming more and more convinced by the minute.
Incidentially, have you considered a sign no your door w/ an arrow pointing people to reception or the sec’y or whoever they are supposed to be asking about such things? A directory in the lobby maybe?
Excuse me, do you know where the dog licensing office is?
If I had an office with a door I would have shut it a long time ago. Recent convo I had with my manager:
ME So are we moving the helpdesk?
HIM: Yes but probably not until October?
ME: Will our office have a door?
Him: Yes and you can keep it shut and put a piece of paper over the window if you want.
ME: Does it lock and do we get keys?
See…I am already planning on barricading myself in.
Wow…that’s um…yeah, can you tell me how to get to East Bumblefuck?