My sad story is about a woman I used to work with (best day of my life was when I left the company).
It’s so hard to know where to begin with this silly cow. However, we’ll start by calling her “Ashley”. I was the receptionist/administrator for the department and saw all the potential hires (and read most of the resumes) for “Ashley’s” job. She was certainly not the most suitable applicant by a mile but I digress.
Blonde tourist #1: I think we have plenty of time before our train leaves. What time is it?
Blonde tourist #2: I have no idea. My cell phone is dead. [To passing suit] Um, sir? Do you know what time it is?
Suit: rolling his eyes up at huge clock, then at blondes: Nope.
Customer: “I ran your DSL installation CD, and it broke my computer. It’s restarted, and now its stuck at the Windows XP logo, and it’s been here for a hour before I called you guys.”
Tech Support: “Ok, let’s reboot your computer to see if it will boot up.”
Pause.
Tech Support: “Ok, what happened?”
Customer: “Well, I went to restart it and bumped the mouse, and now it’s asking me to log in.”
Tech Support: “OK, let’s log in, then.”
Customer: “Oh, the installation is still running. Why was my computer stuck at the startup?”
Tech Support: “By chance was the Windows XP logo changing position every couple of seconds?”
Customer: “Yes! It was! Why do you ask?”
The customer had spent an hour and 45 minutes staring at the Windows XP screen saver.
We had our company party this evening…
Every holiday season, our tiny ad agency holds an annual party for the 4 employees, 3 full-time freelancers who’ve worked there for years, and all of our clients and a few vendors. The party this year was at a very fancy 5-star restaurant–the kind where the entree is 1/10th the size of the plate. OK, nice party, about 40 people all dressed up, and the boss/owner of the agency starts making glorious comments about how wonderful it’s been to work with such a great staff of people, blah, blah. Endless raves about the clients and how good it is to be in business for five years, blah, blah.