Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Tales of A Corporate Misfit

I hate offices, I hate everything about them.  The way they smell, coffee, toner and self doubt, the way they look, contemporary furniture as if that's gonna make sitting at your shitty cubicle any better, and lastly, the false sense of comfort they give you with a kitchen, not like we're all gonna huddle in the kitchen and drink hot chocolate and talk to one another as equals, no, its only there to make you feel sub human. So you can pour your coffee and mix in that powdered breast milk they call creamer. Apparently coffee and trail mix keep you from slitting your throat with a stack of printer paper.  Office humor never worked with me, you have these boundaries you have to stay within and there's always one guy who thinks he's a comedy god with his bullshit "office approved" humor.  What a fag. I'm one of those guys who has a great sense of humor but can never adjust to office approved humor, if I try this type of humor I sound like a complete fucking idiot, but if I try MY sense of humor, I'd get fired. So which do I pick, neither.  So what does that make me? The faggy intern.  That brings me to my next point.  I hate how the title of an "Intern" strips you of your personality because you're completely engulfed by servitude. I get that an internship is about proving yourself and I'm all about that, I don't shirk work or half ass anything, I just want to shoot the shit with these people without having to cut through this thick membrane of hierarchy.  Is that too much to ask? Can we speak as humans? We all had the same civil rights last time I checked.

PHONES, jesus christ! I've been using one of these fucking things my entire life but for SOME UNKNOWN reason, when it comes to handling phones in an office, I feel like an immigrant trying to order a pizza. Transferring calls is one of the most confusing functions I have ever dealt with, why you may ask? I'll fuckin tell you why, because you cant just answer like you normally would, there's all this bullshit protocol. It's not "Hi or hello" I mean that makes no sense, why would you greet someone like we've been doing for thousands of years.  No, instead its, "Lightning Pictures......yes one second please, no that's one moment please, one second is too casual, be more formal" Oh ok, gotcha, or how bout, fuck off please, let me answer the fucking phone please, stop looking over my shoulder please, why don't you go make some fucking coffee please, I think those sound better. And its never simple, if someone calls for John, I forward it to shawn, if someone calls for josh, I don't pick up, if its for Cathy I forward it to Allison who is one of Cathy's assistants, but if Allisons busy then I forward it to Shawn who is John's assistant. What the hell!!? Why can't I just go over to Cathy and be like "Hey bitch,  there's a call for you so fuckin pick up"....and no I'm not transferring it because you're right fuckin next to me and can hear the phone ringing in my hand. You cant answer your own phone call...... That's when you know you're sitting on some fictional throne that not even the Greek Gods know of.

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