The Elvis tattoo has left the building!

Choke on it, Fresno.

8:00 p.m. here in the ongoing hell that is Fresno, with no end in sight. Well, that’s not true, it is in sight — we just can’t make it out clearly.

In a normal radio station traffic department, there is a logical workflow: You do A so you can complete B which allows you to then do C until you wrap it up with D. Not here. Here, they do a little B, then some A, then try to do C but realize they need some more B so they try D but that requires A… It’s maddening. And so we’re sitting here watching them chase their tails with about 30 minutes worth of work that has taken them two hours so far. When will they finish? Who knows.

Why don’t I step in and help out? I can’t. I’ve tried — multiple times — and they’re just not listening. Or hearing. Or they think they know better or… Who knows.

One incident from this morning highlights how impossible it is to work with these people: One of the women asked me how to do something, so as I looked over her shoulder and told her exactly what to click on and exactly what to type, she began madly click-click-clicking away everywhere except where I had told her to click. It was kind of scary, actually, this manic explosion of mouse-pilepsy. She ended up making several changes that were going to have very unfortunate results, and then when she tried to close the window (without my telling her to), the Save screen came up. Hit No! I said. Don’t save it!

She saved it.

I nearly went ballistic. Instead I just bit my tongue while my blood pressure went through the roof, turned around, and walked out of her office without saying another word. And that’s when I stopped caring about how well I’m doing my job here. I have a flight out of this shithole town at 12:55 tomorrow afternoon and my only goal now is to make it ’til then without completely losing it and taking someone’s head off. This last week on-site is all about babysitting the client while they do all the work anyway, so I’m just going to let them play with knives until 10 tomorrow morning, when I walk out the door and leave Fresno behind forever.

I’ve never watched a clock this closely before. And time has never moved so slowly.

Oh. My. God.

These people in Fresno are so incredibly, unbelievably, inconceivably, unreasonably, improbably, impossibly, hyperbole slow. I am in awe of their sloth.

It’s 7:30 pm as I write this. In a normal market, they would have finished by 5:00. In a normal market, the work they have left would take about an hour. In a normal market, I would be back in my room watching Celebrity Justice by now.

Alas, I am in Fresno. Also: alack.

I hate everyone in Fresno, especially the Traffic Department of the radio stations I’m working in this week. It is 9:15 pm right now and they are still at least 30 minutes away from being finished for the day. I don’t know why; they don’t have that much work; they’re not that busy.

There’s an old adage that states that every job expands to fill the time allotted to it. That is truly the case here. I have seen markets with twice the work these people have complete it in half the time — and with a smile on their face. These people have a relatively light load, but they are stressed and crying (literally!) and grumpy and take hours to complete the simplest tasks. They have gotten into the habit of working until 8:00 or 9:00 every night, and so they do, even though they should be able to wrap it all up by 5:00.

I have never actively disliked the personnel at a radio market the way I do these people. I cannot wait to go home.

My co-worker and friend Gavin‘s mom died yesterday. Her health had been failing recently and she passed quietly in the hospital as he sat with her. I’m really sad for him.

I have a confession to make that is so shocking and out of character that I felt a responsibility to document it for future generations and anyone who claims I’m negative about everything:

I’ve been stuck in training sessions for the last three days … and I’m enjoying it.

Well, okay, maybe “enjoying” is too strong a word, but I’m definitely getting something out of it. This is honestly the first training I’ve ever received at any job anywhere that I actually feel is time well spent from start to finish. This is actually going to help me do my job better. Zut alors!

I do have a gripe, of course. I have to do something to offset that annoying positivity up there! The woman training the session has a few verbal quirks: her overused phrase “in any way, shape, or fashion” and pronouncing “especially” as exspecially are starting to grate. But aside from that it’s all high marks from me.

I had something good to say. About work, even. And the earth continues to spin…

As part of the ongoing lemon juice dripping into an eye with a scratched cornea torture that is Customer Service Week here at work, the “motivated Customer Support staff” is running around the office recognizing each department for their contributions to our general all-around fabulousness. I happened to witness our Product and Documentation departments being recognized together yesterday.

Picture a peaceful, quiet office. People are working silently in their cubes and the only sound heard is the clicking of keyboards and distant conversations from around the corner. Then They arrive: the “motivated Customer Support staff.”

With one person holding a large sign reading Product! & Documentation! over his head, a group of eight people round the corner and descend on the aisle linking the Product and Developement cube farms. The Customer Support Supervisor starts ringing the schoolmarm-type brass bell she’s carrying: Clang-Clang! Clang-Clang! Clang-Clang! The “motivated Customer Support staff” begin a cheer: “Yay, Product and Documentation! Woo, go Product and Documentation! Product and Documentation! Yeah!” And they begin clapping and whistling.

It takes about 30 seconds for everyone in the vicinity to recover from the shock of being so noisily invaded, and then someone speaks up to state the obvious:

“Um… Product and Documentation aren’t here. They’re all in a meeting.”

And so they were. Our “motivated Customer Support staff,” not being the sharpest knives in the drawer, have just motivated a group of empty cubicles.

Today is the last day of this. I only have to make it through six more hours. The longest six hours of my life. I hope I can find the motivation to do it.

Today is Wear Your (Software Product Name) Shirt Day! Please do not forget to wear your (Software Product Name) shirt.

So says today’s agenda in the ongoing torture known as Customer Service Week here at the company dedicated to sucking the will to live out of its employees. Customer Service Week is a particularly diabolical way of grinding us down, because it accomplishes that goal even as it claims to be designed to lift us up! They’re geniuses, I tell you, pure evil geniuses! Wile E. Coyote has nothing on them.

I wanted to join in the fun today on Wear Your Company Shirt Day … but mine is in a bucket at home, caked with carnuba wax. So I wore my anti-company shirt instead. Hey, it’s what motivates me.

The living hell that is National Customer Service Week continues. Following is the inspirational email that just hit my Inbox, with my own comments added just so I can vent.

What a week so far! Today was filled with Sweetness and Motivation!

Yes, every job satisfaction survey ever done has shown that food is what really motivates a workforce. Higher pay, flex time, days off, more respect, better working conditions and telecommute all fell far below “Cookies and Donuts” on the “What Motivates YOU?” question on the surveys.

Throughout the day motivational expressions flashed on the Customer Support Reader board giving motivational encouragement to our Staff.

The Customer Support Reader Board is viewable only from the Customer Support Department. Other areas of the office — mine, for example — went unflashed. But I could feel the power of the motivational expressions all the way over here, so I guess that’s good enough.

We are still adding new faces to the Who’s Who board…

Thank God, because there weren’t enough faces on there already that nobody could identify. It definitely needed more. And just a suggestion, but maybe you should move the Who’s Who board out of the dead-end row of cubes where it is and put it where people can actually see the stupid thing without having to navigate a narrow aisle. Just a thought…

Today Development, Trauma, Special Projects and QA were honored for their outstanding contributions to (Company Name) with tasty treats.

Wait a second. I thought the pies, Krispy Kreme donuts and cookies were there to motivate everyone, not just these few departments. I had a donut, but I’m with Field Services. Do I have to give it back?

AGENDA HIGHLIGHTS

It’s “Partners in Service” Potluck DAY! Bring your appetites, your Favorite Dish and the recipe that goes with it.

Because nothing motivates and says “Thank You” more than throwing a party for you and asking you to cook for yourself!

Our Customer Support is phone based, so technically I’d need to call in to experience them in action. I have a cell phone, though, so I guess I stand over there and dial from next to the person who will take my call.

Also, get in on the action and play Functional Feud.

Only if I can do it in true Hatfield & McCoy feud fashion and use a loaded firearm.

In addition, Wednesday is also Wear (Software Product Name) Shirt Day! Please do not forget to wear your (Software Product Name) shirt.

I don’t think I’ll be wearing mine — I use it to wax my motorcycle.

Department Recognition: Customer Support will be recognizing Distribution, MOL, MIS and Trainers based in the Southern California Office. Expect a visit from our motivated customer support staff to recognizing the importance of this department!

This sounds suspiciously like Christmas Carolers. I hate Christmas Carolers. I’m expecting a roving band of Motivated Customer Support Staff going from cube to cube singing motivational songs like Kumbaya and Working Off The Clock Is Good For The Bottom Line.

And P.S.: your grammar and syntax suck. They’re there “to recognizing” and you’ve named four departments but apparently only one is important?

Special notes:
Have you guessed ‘who’s-who’ in Customer Support’s Baby Picture game yet? Visit the ‘main isle’ of Customer Support!

No, I haven’t guessed yet. That’s because I couldn’t care less if you ran hot needles into my eyeballs. And P.S.: your spelling sucks! An isle is an island. Morons.

Aaaaalllll weeeekkkk llloooonnnnnggggg this is going on. I don’t think I’m going to make it.

My coffee woes continue. I’m back in the home office this week and of course the coffee pot was empty this morning. Fuckers. So, being America’s Coffee Bitch, I made more. I went back for more just after lunch: empty again, I made more again. Again: fuckers. I just went back for my afternoon jolt: empty again. And even worse than that, no more coffee packets. (Well, I shouldn’t say no more, there was plenty of decaf, but we’re not animals.) (At least I’m not.) (Generally speaking.) (Usually.)

Anyway. No more coffee: Fuck. Fucking fuck fuckers.

We have two lunchrooms in my office: the big one, and then a small “galley” over on my end — just a wet bar, really: sink, coffee machine, a few drawers and cupboards. The big one is where all the goodies are, so I went there to restock the galley. Only the big one’s almost out of coffee, too. All that was left there was a drawer with maybe enough coffee for a week. (Again, plenty of decaf, but we’re not animals.) (Well, they are on that end.)

I did the right thing: I cleaned ’em out. I loaded up with as much coffee as I could carry and smuggled it over to the galley. I left barely enough behind to get them through about noon tomorrow, but we’ll be good over here in the galley for about another two days. By that time the purchaser should have noticed they’re out of coffee on their end and maybe gotten off their lazy coffee-swilling-but-non-coffee-making-and-ordering ass and ordered more. And get the good stuff this time, biotch!

Don’t fuck with my coffee. I will take you down. I will take you down to Chinatown.