art of office: overheard

Good hygiene is no laughing matter.

This is what I say to people when they laugh at me for brushing my teeth at work.

Art of Office: Creeping out your co-workers

This is the story of how you creep out a random, hapless co-worker.

I was getting some water or a double salami (that's what she said) snack pack or some such, when I saw this guy. I was sure I'd never seen him before because he looked a lot like Gene Wilder. And if there's one thing I remember it's seeing dudes that look like Gene Wilder¹. Anyway, I naturally began to think of all the hilarity Gene Wilder has provided over the years. I thought, "Remember in Stir Crazy when the warden ties him up drawn-and-quarter style for hours and Wilder gets down and says, 'What? My 12-year old back problem? It's gone!'? Are you honestly asking me that, of course I remember, you're thinking this, dumbass. Right."

I started to chuckle, nay, giggle to myself, just as some OTHER dude came around the corner (if it were the Gene Wilder dude, I'm sure he gets that all the time). He gave me a quizzical look. And I continued on my way, acting as if it was perfectly normal to go around reliving Gene Wilder scenes in one's head.

¹Is there a guy that's not thought of as funny who's funnier? I mean, no one would list Gene Wilder in there top 100 funniest dudes (I'm sure I'm up there on all your lists, please email them to me). But, he is hilarious and I love him. RIP. Also, who is the evil genius who thought of Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor together? He should be beatified. How did that pitch go? "Ok, we've got a buddy movie." "Stop right there. Richard Pryor and Gene Wilder. I won't greenlight it with anyone else." God bless you sir.

art of office: endearing yourself to the boss

My boss had her back turned, facing her computer when I was turning in my administration worksheet and said to: "Here's my thingie." If she expected me to be pant-less, she was sorely disappointed.

art of office: what would you do . . . if you were Jesus?

So I have this situation where this person is forever blaming me for everything that goes wrong. Like as soon as a problem crops up, Person will say, "Well, Roger said X, Y and Z." When, really I probably didn't say anything of the sort and maybe said "Q," which Person took to mean something else entirely. I would say it's on the level of "little sister" annoying. Little sisters are annoying, no doubt, but you usually just tune it out and that's that.

My only REAL problem with it is that Person tends to copy 18 different, non-essential, people on every email Person sends concerning these issues. The superfluous copy is an evil that should be eradicated. I understand there are certain micro-manager types that MUST be copied on every email originating from their underlings. But really, 90% of these people do not care and probably only want two emails of this type: 1. Something's broke. 2. That broken something is now fixed.

The project I was working with Person on is now over, mostly. Mostly because the occasional, non-beaten path issue will arise and Person immediately sends an email blaming me. For the most recent case, I have an old email that contradicts this claim directly. (I normally never keep emails, but I figured out early on that this might happen). Now I would think you all know me well enough to know that that doesn't exactly fill me with glee. I mean, I hate the GOTCHA! game. We're all on the same team here, right? (Yes, in this case.) Once something goes wrong it doesn't matter a whit whose fault it is, it just needs to be fixed. I should also mention that I kind of think Person does this out of kneejerk self-defense, rather than malice.

So, what would you do?

What did I do? Not much. I replied-to-partial to the people who need to know I'm not a complete moron. Then I sent an email directly to Person (copying no one) and soft-pedaled the fact that Person was full of hooey. Then we agreed on a solution where I don't have to do anything. Win-win in my book. Or just one win because Person = LOSE.

the art of office: gotta get the papers, get the papers

A semi-regular feature in which I detail all the tactics one should carry in their office arsenal or the behaviors one must always avoid when working in an tightly-bunched cubicled community.

Let me start with the basics. The most egregious breach of office survival is the printing of personal materials. Don't get me wrong; I do it all the time. Often one is FORCED to print personal materials (hello home buying!). That is fine; the devil is in the retrieval.

Personal printed materials must be retrieved posthaste. Ideally, do a spot check of the printer to make sure no one is already waiting for a print job. Because if they are, they will most assuredly pick-up your "Guide to Identifying Pussy Skin Lesions" before you're able to retrieve it.

Printing 20 "sour milk" recipes from cooks.com, while embarrassing (and frighteningly thorough) probably won't jeopardize your job. Worst case is your boss asking why you don't abide your milk's expiration date. However, printing a list of the "100 Most Frequently Asked Java Interview Questions" (sandwiched between printed emails to your person) might get your superiors to asking some questions. Even if it wasn't you, who wants the boss snooping through internet usage logs? Furthermore, who prints emails? Are you going to file them using pneumatic tubes to your home office to which you travel via quadricycle? Will you then make copies on your ditto machine? Silly.

The last contingency to plan for is the dreaded "Warming Up"printer message. Excitedly did you print you Beanie Baby collection spreadsheet (complete with pictures - so you used the color ink jet, of course), fast did you run back to the printer to retrieve it. But, alas, the printer wasn't ready to create the documentation of your small bundles of joy. F*$k! Here comes your boss! Back to retrieve a printout of his own. What to do? Box out. Stay between him and the tray. Use your ass!!! But he's curious as to why his job isn't printing. Now he's right next to you, about to snag your sheets. "Oh here comes something" . . . whirrrrrr . . . you only have one option -- punch him in the face. Maybe you have a twitch?

Follow all these steps and you're sure to safely retrieve your Herself the Elf Appreciation Club membership form while your co-workers are none the wiser.