Originally Posted: 2005-05-27 2:20am
Office Nightmare - The Nerve Of That Man
So I’m sitting in my cube minding my own business scrolling thru the posts on CL when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turned my head to see who was bothering me, and there stood the owner of the company. I knew this ancient 50 something year old man was the “Big Boss” because I saw his picture hanging on the wall in the lobby. He asked my name and what my position with the company was. After I told him, he pointed to my monitor and said “what’s that.” I said it was Craigslist and it’s very popular with people who work in office environments. He launched into this long blah-blah story about when he got out of high school he had to go and fight a war in a some jungle and when he came back how he started up the business…blah-blah-blah. It went on and on about how he spent twenty years working 18 hour days, seven days a week to build this company into what it is. As I’m listening to all this junk, all I can think is “dude, you must have missed a lot of parties.” Well, at some point (I don’t know when) he stopped talking and asked why I wasn’t doing my work. I told him I already did some work, but needed to see what all the other office workers out there were ranting about. I explained to him that there are tons of responsible 20 to 30 year old college grads sharing their collective wealth of worldly knowledge on Craigslist. I saw a puzzled look on his face, so I began to tell him about all the valuable things I’ve learned sitting at my work station. You want to know about living in the city, or the suburbs, it’s all right here. You need info on relationships, hook ups, sex or love, its right there too. I told him that I now know about music, clubs, blow jobs, baseball, condos, SUV drivers, neighbors, fat and skinny people, cheating partners, marriage and divorce, anal sex, parking tickets and much, much more. Everything one needs to know about life is right there on Craigslist. I told him there are people who actually get up in the morning and drag themselves to work just to make sure all this information gets disseminated. His eyes squinted and he asked me if I, or any of these people who should be working, have ever heard of something called “work ethic.” I looked up at him and said “dude, I went to college and I know ones race has nothing to do with work.” Well, the boss reached over and grabbed my ear and twisted it. It hurt so bad, I started to cry. Twisting my ear, he raised me up out of my chair and paraded me past all my co-workers straight into the conference room. Inside the conference room he released his Vulcan death grip on my ear and pointed to a big blackboard. He handed me a piece of chalk and made me write “I have no work ethic” one thousand times. Now I ask you, is that any way for a father to treat his son?