Balls the Size of Cantaloupes
I was much more worked up about this little incident earlier today, but I didn't want to do this at work. I took notes, though. Really. I didn't want to forget details.
This started a little over a week ago. It was November 30, according to the email trail. A customer service rep came into our area with a piece of paper with a stinky note on it that said "Please advise country of origin for part #1111 ASAP." Wait, it was actually an Account Manager, not a customer service rep. The jackass boss in that department made this big deal of turning all the customer service reps into account managers. The only difference is the title. They're every bit as stupid as they were when they were customer service reps. This one in particular was VERY proud of her transition. It's on her email signatures and everything. It's like when my friend Jessica started wearing a bra before anyone else in fifth grade. She was always adjusting it, or the strap would fall, or it would somehow come undone in the back and she'd get to go to the bathroom to fix it. Big stuff. You gotta advertise shit like that.
Anyway, this Account Manager (we'll call her Jane) wanted some information from me, so she wrote it on a sticky note and walked it into our office. There was no reason she couldn't have emailed me the part number with the question or picked up the phone and asked. That's one of my huge pet peeves at that place. People just drop in all the time. They get bored, grab a stack of papers so they'll look busy and important, and come ask stupid questions. We have an engineer that's famous for it. She came in yesterday just to ask who bought from a certain vendor. Good thing she came all the way in, because that's WAY too complicated to put in an email.
*side note - I have used the f-bomb 4 times so far and gone back to fix it. This is tough. I hope you're happy, Josh.
Anyway, the other thing that pissed me off is the information Jane needed is right on the supplier's website. I came into a goddamn customer service meeting about a month ago to give them a refresher on the website. Jane was totally there, so she doesn't have any excuse. I showed them how to find whether a compound was domestic or imported. I also showed them where to find lead times and explained that if it was 13 weeks, the part came from a plant in Asia, but if it was 4-6 weeks, it's made in California. Stupid bitch could've just typed in the part number and seen that it's made here. Well, that's assuming she could figure out that "domestic" means that the country of origin is the U.S.
Instead of telling her what a lazy bitch she is, I just emailed her and told her that since the lead time was 6 weeks, the part was made here. THEN! Get this! She emailed back, "Thanks! Can I get that sheet back from you?"
Do I even need to go into how ridiculous that is? She brought me a sheet when she could've emailed me a part number of looked it up her freakin self. Plus, in the time it took her to type that, she could've waddled in and picked it up her freakin self. Why should I have to take it back to her? Not everyone needs to take twenty field trips around the office every day. I gasped for air for a few seconds before I could even read the email out loud to Bill. After some deep cleansing breaths, I followed his advice and deleted the email before I could reply and tell that dumb bitch a thing or two.
Today, over a week after she gave me a sticky note that said she needed the information "ASAP," Jane emailed me and asked if I still had that sheet. She has been in the room several times since then. I left it out in plain view so she could grab it. When I emailed back that I had it, that dirty, dirty asshole wrote back, "Cool. Just drop it off next time you're out here."
Are you f-ing kidding me? First of all, "ASAP," my ass. Second, she must have brass f-ing balls to ask me to do that. She's been on my shit list for the last month or so, anyway. She's the type of person that has "emergencies" all the time because she lets stuff sit in her inbox. Then she sends it off to us with those stupid f-ing red high importance exclamation points. I hate those f-ing things. My personal favorite Jane incident (besides this one, obviously) came up last week when she sent us a list of all these parts that had high usage in 2005 but were dropping off almost completely in 2006. The letter was sent to her in April. We got it seven f-ing months later.
Tanner and Bill wouldn't let me reply. It's probably best they didn't. They say it will turn into a pissing match. Can girls do that? But they also won't let me take it out to her. I thought about just dropping it on the floor in her cubicle on my way to the bathroom, but they say I can't. The worst part about it is that she probably thinks that I am the one being unreasonable and bitchy. Well, not the worst part. The worst part is her treating me like I'm her bitch. I'm worried I'm going to go off on her at the company Christmas party after a few free drinks, because I don't think she has any idea how pissed I've been at her for the last month. Stay tuned for that. That is, of course, if I make it that long. We're apparently getting a new manager in a couple weeks. I'm already assuming we're going to hate each other.
This started a little over a week ago. It was November 30, according to the email trail. A customer service rep came into our area with a piece of paper with a stinky note on it that said "Please advise country of origin for part #1111 ASAP." Wait, it was actually an Account Manager, not a customer service rep. The jackass boss in that department made this big deal of turning all the customer service reps into account managers. The only difference is the title. They're every bit as stupid as they were when they were customer service reps. This one in particular was VERY proud of her transition. It's on her email signatures and everything. It's like when my friend Jessica started wearing a bra before anyone else in fifth grade. She was always adjusting it, or the strap would fall, or it would somehow come undone in the back and she'd get to go to the bathroom to fix it. Big stuff. You gotta advertise shit like that.
Anyway, this Account Manager (we'll call her Jane) wanted some information from me, so she wrote it on a sticky note and walked it into our office. There was no reason she couldn't have emailed me the part number with the question or picked up the phone and asked. That's one of my huge pet peeves at that place. People just drop in all the time. They get bored, grab a stack of papers so they'll look busy and important, and come ask stupid questions. We have an engineer that's famous for it. She came in yesterday just to ask who bought from a certain vendor. Good thing she came all the way in, because that's WAY too complicated to put in an email.
*side note - I have used the f-bomb 4 times so far and gone back to fix it. This is tough. I hope you're happy, Josh.
Anyway, the other thing that pissed me off is the information Jane needed is right on the supplier's website. I came into a goddamn customer service meeting about a month ago to give them a refresher on the website. Jane was totally there, so she doesn't have any excuse. I showed them how to find whether a compound was domestic or imported. I also showed them where to find lead times and explained that if it was 13 weeks, the part came from a plant in Asia, but if it was 4-6 weeks, it's made in California. Stupid bitch could've just typed in the part number and seen that it's made here. Well, that's assuming she could figure out that "domestic" means that the country of origin is the U.S.
Instead of telling her what a lazy bitch she is, I just emailed her and told her that since the lead time was 6 weeks, the part was made here. THEN! Get this! She emailed back, "Thanks! Can I get that sheet back from you?"
Do I even need to go into how ridiculous that is? She brought me a sheet when she could've emailed me a part number of looked it up her freakin self. Plus, in the time it took her to type that, she could've waddled in and picked it up her freakin self. Why should I have to take it back to her? Not everyone needs to take twenty field trips around the office every day. I gasped for air for a few seconds before I could even read the email out loud to Bill. After some deep cleansing breaths, I followed his advice and deleted the email before I could reply and tell that dumb bitch a thing or two.
Today, over a week after she gave me a sticky note that said she needed the information "ASAP," Jane emailed me and asked if I still had that sheet. She has been in the room several times since then. I left it out in plain view so she could grab it. When I emailed back that I had it, that dirty, dirty asshole wrote back, "Cool. Just drop it off next time you're out here."
Are you f-ing kidding me? First of all, "ASAP," my ass. Second, she must have brass f-ing balls to ask me to do that. She's been on my shit list for the last month or so, anyway. She's the type of person that has "emergencies" all the time because she lets stuff sit in her inbox. Then she sends it off to us with those stupid f-ing red high importance exclamation points. I hate those f-ing things. My personal favorite Jane incident (besides this one, obviously) came up last week when she sent us a list of all these parts that had high usage in 2005 but were dropping off almost completely in 2006. The letter was sent to her in April. We got it seven f-ing months later.
Tanner and Bill wouldn't let me reply. It's probably best they didn't. They say it will turn into a pissing match. Can girls do that? But they also won't let me take it out to her. I thought about just dropping it on the floor in her cubicle on my way to the bathroom, but they say I can't. The worst part about it is that she probably thinks that I am the one being unreasonable and bitchy. Well, not the worst part. The worst part is her treating me like I'm her bitch. I'm worried I'm going to go off on her at the company Christmas party after a few free drinks, because I don't think she has any idea how pissed I've been at her for the last month. Stay tuned for that. That is, of course, if I make it that long. We're apparently getting a new manager in a couple weeks. I'm already assuming we're going to hate each other.
posted by Molly at 5:22 PM
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