FOOSBALLGATE or FML
Fine. Fuck it. I may be too proud to post this on Facebook for the world to see, but no one reads this blog so it might just be safe here. Besides, this is the kind of thing that needs to go down in print because it's so fucking unbelievable.
I started working at a place I will call Death Masters on December 13th of 2010 after running screaming from the banality of my previous job. It was collections, sure, but a different kind of collections that was very soft. We were collecting on DEAD PEOPLE after all. It's not as morbid as it sounds. Oh wait... YES it was. The company offered a ton of perks but also had a reputation for canning people left and right. I made it through the hellish training (5 in my training class weren't so lucky) and was placed in my cube. I was right in front of the break room. I did pretty well the first month, with the fresh optimism of all newcomers. Then the other shoe dropped and dropped and dropped. I won't really get into that cuz, boring-ass bygones. I'll just get straight to the foosballs. There were several times during the day where the breakroom erupted with raucous cheering and crashing from the foosball table. Apparently, there was a group of nerds who took it incredibly seriously. It bothered everyone around me. They had no care for the people right outside the door. I heard a co-worker mutter that she would love to steal the damn balls and throw them away. (LIGHT-BULB) One night when I was particularly crabby I decided to do just that. I snatched the 3 foosballs and tossed em in the garbage. The next day, like clockwork, I heard a gasp and "OH NOOOO!" then blessed silence from the foosball crew. An email went out asking about the location of the foosballs and a plea for their return. Everyone got a good chuckle about it. Anyway, it seemed like it was over. The next day, a FURIOUS email came out from what can only be cosidered the nastiest, most ill-tempered Jabba the Hut who also happens to be the HEAD of the department I was in. See it (not verbatim) below:
WHOMEVER STOLE THE FOOSBALLS FROM THE FOOSBALL TABLE HAS UNTIL 4PM TODAY TO RETURN THEM!! WE HAVE A PRETTY GOOD IDEA OF WHEN THEY WENT MISSING AND WOULDN'T LIKE TO PULL THE SURVEILLANCE TAPES. PLEASE SAVE US THE TROUBLE!!
THE JOKE ENDS NOW!!!!!!
A ripple went out throughout the floor about what kind of fkng call center has surveillance cameras. So Big Brother was INDEED watching! WTF?!! I decided to do the right thing and dash out on my lunch break to the nearest sporting goods store and buy replacements. I bought a 6 pack of them and made sure to replace them. Sigh... It's over. Right? WRONG. The following day (today) I had an email from my supervisor (whom I was cool with and confided in abt it) that the foosballs I had purchased were not the right ones and asking if I could please purchase some more. Apparently, the ones I so carelessly tossed away had SENTIMENTAL VALUE!! Yes, folks, you read that right. SENTIMENTAL FOOSBALLS!!!
I planned (after much searching online) to hit up FOOSBALLS R US and get the best ones I could find, but to no avail. Within an hour I was called down to HR, fired for job performance, and led down the "stairs of doom". The one good thing I can surmise is that my supervisor did me a favor. I was let go for job performance rather than THEFT OF RECREATIONAL EQUIPMENT or whatever my crime was which means I am still eligible for unemployment.
How am I? Relieved. My 3 months there were not altogether unpleasant, but it is NOT the kind of company I can imagine experiencing any longevity with. They fired people left and right and the ones who weren't fired got discouraged and quit. It was a lot of stress working somewhere with such a revolving door and such a TYRANT behind the wheel of. I mean, the above email is not the ONLY hissy fit I experienced from that man and I was only there 3 months. Sheesh.
I started working at a place I will call Death Masters on December 13th of 2010 after running screaming from the banality of my previous job. It was collections, sure, but a different kind of collections that was very soft. We were collecting on DEAD PEOPLE after all. It's not as morbid as it sounds. Oh wait... YES it was. The company offered a ton of perks but also had a reputation for canning people left and right. I made it through the hellish training (5 in my training class weren't so lucky) and was placed in my cube. I was right in front of the break room. I did pretty well the first month, with the fresh optimism of all newcomers. Then the other shoe dropped and dropped and dropped. I won't really get into that cuz, boring-ass bygones. I'll just get straight to the foosballs. There were several times during the day where the breakroom erupted with raucous cheering and crashing from the foosball table. Apparently, there was a group of nerds who took it incredibly seriously. It bothered everyone around me. They had no care for the people right outside the door. I heard a co-worker mutter that she would love to steal the damn balls and throw them away. (LIGHT-BULB) One night when I was particularly crabby I decided to do just that. I snatched the 3 foosballs and tossed em in the garbage. The next day, like clockwork, I heard a gasp and "OH NOOOO!" then blessed silence from the foosball crew. An email went out asking about the location of the foosballs and a plea for their return. Everyone got a good chuckle about it. Anyway, it seemed like it was over. The next day, a FURIOUS email came out from what can only be cosidered the nastiest, most ill-tempered Jabba the Hut who also happens to be the HEAD of the department I was in. See it (not verbatim) below:
WHOMEVER STOLE THE FOOSBALLS FROM THE FOOSBALL TABLE HAS UNTIL 4PM TODAY TO RETURN THEM!! WE HAVE A PRETTY GOOD IDEA OF WHEN THEY WENT MISSING AND WOULDN'T LIKE TO PULL THE SURVEILLANCE TAPES. PLEASE SAVE US THE TROUBLE!!
THE JOKE ENDS NOW!!!!!!
A ripple went out throughout the floor about what kind of fkng call center has surveillance cameras. So Big Brother was INDEED watching! WTF?!! I decided to do the right thing and dash out on my lunch break to the nearest sporting goods store and buy replacements. I bought a 6 pack of them and made sure to replace them. Sigh... It's over. Right? WRONG. The following day (today) I had an email from my supervisor (whom I was cool with and confided in abt it) that the foosballs I had purchased were not the right ones and asking if I could please purchase some more. Apparently, the ones I so carelessly tossed away had SENTIMENTAL VALUE!! Yes, folks, you read that right. SENTIMENTAL FOOSBALLS!!!
I planned (after much searching online) to hit up FOOSBALLS R US and get the best ones I could find, but to no avail. Within an hour I was called down to HR, fired for job performance, and led down the "stairs of doom". The one good thing I can surmise is that my supervisor did me a favor. I was let go for job performance rather than THEFT OF RECREATIONAL EQUIPMENT or whatever my crime was which means I am still eligible for unemployment.
How am I? Relieved. My 3 months there were not altogether unpleasant, but it is NOT the kind of company I can imagine experiencing any longevity with. They fired people left and right and the ones who weren't fired got discouraged and quit. It was a lot of stress working somewhere with such a revolving door and such a TYRANT behind the wheel of. I mean, the above email is not the ONLY hissy fit I experienced from that man and I was only there 3 months. Sheesh.
posted by Shakycam | 5:57 PM
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