Situation Normal. Atmosphere Breathable. Brainstem Injected. Dialogue Engaged.
stg-roadrunner-gfx
Monday, March 14, 2005

Pixie Snort Handshake Contracts

Be careful with those damn words.

How do you do business? Do you conduct business? Do you propose it, transact it, or merely process it? Around here we make a big fucking cake out of it, lick the frosting off, kick the sponge into crumbs, and scatter those to the wind. Then we sell the stained cardboard from underneath and exclaim "Cake! Profit!"

No, we're not that delerious and stupid. There have been moments, though, when I question our clarity of thought and dedication to expansion. How will we ever become rich and conquer the world if we can't even collect our due?

I just discovered a job we did last October that we never billed. Fourteen grand. Once again I feel important. Fists were pumped in my general direction by departing coworkers last Friday. Hooray for me.

I started here as a field installer. Monkey see, monkey plug wire and balance on the ladder. Work evaporated and they took pity and made me a telephone tech under neon buzz. Monkey hear, monkey repeat with ever-increasing volume and pitch to the lowly braindead restaurant manager.

I sensed that I was expendable and hanging from wet bubblegum stretching to break. So I asked for keys to the accounting software and declared an audit. To my amazement they only blinked once and gladly handed me the needed information. Remember, I am a high school dropout, not an accountant on the lam from better dressed employment.

I went through three years worth of records to see who had failed to pay their bills. I organized these delinquent establishments by owner's name and started placing them on credit hold. I was hot shit. I was coming buckets when I looked in the mirror. I made desperate fry cooks blubber and whimper and call their owners. Nobody would get help from me until my boss was cackling over a hastily signed check that had been overnighted to his clutching grubby paws.

Then they cancelled my little poaching expedition and sent the lot of them into collection. Why threaten a hash brown munching cola slurping degenerate when you can assault a burger magnate's credit rating?

This made me sad. My petty authority had evaporated. I was relegated back to moping peon status. I shredded my project and nibbled on Necco wafers as I awaited the ring of the phone.

Then, lo! One of my bosses was fired, and another promoted. (Yes, and I still have three bosses. I get whiplash frequently. And you wonder why I drink?) They promoted me. I am now in charge of Stuff with a capital S. I order it, I sell it, climb on it and roll around in it like a retarded child with too many cookies and no supervision. I like my job.

Even when I get cardboard burns.
9:25 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm

7 Comments:

March 14, 2005 12:23 PM, Blogger ty bluesmith said...

HOLY HOT SHIT DAMN!! THREE POSTS!!

necco wafers? terrible. but i'll eat the whole tube if one is placed in front of me.

the stuff about what may have fueled your friend's admiration for you was a total fucking riot.

damn. i pump my fists above my head like jim brewer whenever i'm reading your shit, dude. and i swear it's not becuz of the illegally obtained adderall scrip that is the back/beat behind my all/out final's week cram session that will end Thursday at one with the first of a whole mess o Guinnesses, dank, fuentes, and all out obnoxiousness.

i'm thinking of having a party for a couple of my closest friends and alla my favorite bloggers. we'll get the presidential suite at the Radisson and puke behind the curtains if we feel like it and not tell them when we leave.

guys, you are all invited. but only if the ratio of hot girls to dudes remains at a steady 2.5 to 1 throughout the course of the day.

ty bluesmith ain't down with the sausage fest, yo.

i'll send my sixty foot navigator limo for you. you'll know me instantly. i'll be the red/faced guy with the pimp cup in his hand hanging out the moon roof yelling, "whoo hoo."

but, steve. you're in no matter what. it'll be a trip. i won't be able to stop talking while i obsessively change the porn dvd's on the limo's system and check the windows for hotties in nearby cars to yell "whoo hoo" at.

it'll be a real tooth grinder, he swears.

 
March 14, 2005 12:41 PM, Blogger Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...

Count me in.

The Radisson has a Presidential? That carpet better be yellow before I get there. Unless there's a balcony, in which case the carpet doesn't matter. There probably would be in the presidential suite.

You take care of the "whoo hoo" and I'll cover the "what what" and we'll have a riot. Sounds great.

 
March 14, 2005 1:33 PM, Blogger You've Got What I Need... said...

Don't audit me, please?

 
March 14, 2005 2:51 PM, Blogger bethany said...

ty,

you sound a little too into steve to want hot girls at your shin dig. i think you are more into sausage fests then you want to admit buddy. not that there is anything wrong with that.

 
March 14, 2005 3:15 PM, Blogger ty bluesmith said...

yeah, beth. you got me. nice work.

 
March 15, 2005 3:38 AM, Blogger if_i_had_a_hammer said...

like the new design of the site.

congrats on the promotion.

 
March 15, 2005 11:58 AM, Blogger Kerouaced said...

Another good read. You need to mobilize the downtrodden employees of your company and overthrow the current leaders in a fryer coup. When you take over there will be free electronics for everybody and there will be no such thing as showing up for work late. They will call you el presidente, with a small p, and from there it is only a matter of time until you become the big P in the White House. If you need help you know how to reach me.

 

Post a Comment

left-arrow Home

stg-shark
Stumbling Grandstanding
Shame Game
Cross Examination and Self Reference
Light And Glare
Muck Gripe
Hellbent and Furious
Shoelace Noose Considerations
Homeward Bound
Mouthbreathing Foreign Drug Fiends
Concrete Mattress
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
January 2003
February 2003
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
September 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
August 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
February 2008
May 2008
August 2008
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
December 2009
February 2010
March 2010
April 2010
May 2010
August 2010
August 2011
September 2011
February 2012
June 2012
July 2012
August 2012
October 2012
November 2012
May 2013
August 2013
September 2013
December 2013
May 2014
October 2014
November 2014
December 2016