May 19th, 2003

From Friday: Co-irkers are such fun!

Except for the "fun" part. Obligatory back story: Have I mentioned Poop In A Group Guy? Appropriately nicknamed PIGG for short? PIGG might only be known to Dynagirl and myself, but I'm not sure. Seeing as how I can't get my own archives to work, I've got to rely on my own faulty memory. So, PIGG is a notoriously bad communicator in the work place. He uses phrases like "let's get our poop in a group" when he means, "I'd like to have a meeting with you and so-and-so."

Tuesday afternoon, the receptionist gets a frantic phone call from PIGG, who's out of the office, natch. BTW, this freak is never in the office for more than 10 hours a week. If he's not off on "comp time," he's "helping his mom." He also attends lots of "trade shows." Anyhoo, Monday at quitting time, he asked the receptionist to send something to New York. Said receptionist sent said something to New York via Fed Ex. But! She didn't send it overnight. *gasp* Tuesday's phone call was a request that new copies of the same documents be sent again, but this time overnight. The problem, however, is that there are no copies of those documents. PIGG and his cohort are such control freaks that they have the only two electronic copies of those files on their computers. Therefore, the receptionist was asked to go to PIGG's PC, print out the documents, and send those.

Anyone who works in an office understands that a receptionist can't exactly flit about the office. Well, anyone except PIGG. The receptionist was doing her best to take care of the problem, and meanwhile got in trouble with her boss for not being at the front desk. Because I'm friends with the receptionist, I happily volunteered to take care of the problem. I was at the office so late, I missed the first 5 minutes of Buffy, but I don't care.

Wednesday passed. Thursday passed. Finally, I broke down today and asked the receptionist if anyone even knows if the materials arrived on time. The boss of the receptionist overheard our conversation, I suppose, because then she ripped PIGG a new pie hole. PIGG then thanked the receptionist for her help, who then told him that I'm the one who actually took care of the problem. Eventually, he came in here and thanked me. I said that he was welcome and that I don't mind doing it. I also said that we could all certainly learn our lessons from this experience, blah blah blah avoid future pains in my ass blah blah mailing instructions in writing blah tell our guy in shipping that PIGG doesn't need approval to overnight packages. Then, PIGG shut my office door. I groaned inwardly. He starts The Blame Game, and I just couldn't handle hearing his whining again. I've worked with the guy for three years -- his sad songs are never changing.

So, I told him that he was a notoriously bad communicator. He yelled, "Bullshit!" And then proceeded to rant. He seriously almost made me cry, but that's only because my meds need some more tinkering, and I always cry these days. When I got my second wind, I cut him off and refused to let him get off that easily. He is a poor communicator. He needs to work on his communication skills so we can all get more done. I wasn't being mean to PIGG, and I honestly wasn't trying to be malicious. I would like to work more on his projects, but he's unable to communicate what, how, why or when.

The drama continues, because now he's whined to BossDaddy. Blech!