Thursday, April 14, 2005

Good luck reading all this crap... seriously, good luck...

I’ve decided to replace quality with quantity. Management had a meeting and they decided to take this blog in a new direction. From here on out, quantity will be valued over quality. I know what you’re thinking, that just doesn’t seem right, but when has management ever made a good decision? Let’s review:

October 12, 1983, a few weeks before my 6th birthday. Management decides that this year for Halloween, we will be dressing up as a care bear (Good Luck Bear if you must know). At the time I didn’t object, but that was before I saw the costume and realized that the head weighed in at just under 63 lbs and was full of so much stuffing that I passed out from heat exhaustion after only three blocks of trick or treating… it would go down as one of the lowest hauls in my trick or treating career.

Christmas Eve, 1984. I was locked in my room for Santa related reasons. Apparently I had too much juice to drink before going to bed. A bathroom visit was paramount. A plea was sent through the door to my parents requesting permission to use the facilities. Management decided that they were taking too long and announced an executive order to pee in the corner of the bedroom. I was against it, but fearing the loss of my job as me, I did what any good employee would do and followed orders. Mid pee my mother entered the room and the whole plan blew up in the face of management, of course, I had to shoulder the blame.

March 23, 1988. I was playing basketball on the playground with the other boys. A rarity for me given my diminutive size and utter lack of “skill.” An errant pass from a teammate sent the ball heading straight out of bounds for what would be a momentum changing turn over. I assessed the situation and decided that I had no chance to save the ball. That’s when management stepped in and over ruled, issuing a memorandum requiring all employees to “save the ball.” Again I was in a pickle. I did what I had to do and tried to save the ball. What management had not accounted for was any sort of plan to brace the employee for the fall… I ended up splitting my chin open on the blacktop and spent the rest of the afternoon in the emergency room getting stitches.

August 2, 1990. With the new school year about to begin, I was excited about the prospect of getting new clothes for the year. I’d have all sorts of new things to wear and I was sure to make a splash in the small fashion world that was at my private grade school. Unlike most private schools, we did not have uniforms, we had some loose guidelines by which we had to operate, but on the whole, it was pretty relaxed. Enter management. A new office policy was instituted whereby all employees were expected to wear an oversized green jacket at all times. Rain or shine, the jacket stayed on. Also, at varies times of the day, without warning, management would order all employees to perform what would later be dubbed, “The Turtle Maneuver” where in the head would be retracted back inside the jacket leaving the employee, for all intensive purposes, blind. Needless to say I was ostracized by the rest of the class and spent the vast majority of my lunches eating alone.

April 12, 1997. Nearing the end of second semester Calculus in college, it became overtly apparent that I wasn't going to pass. Two years into college and I was on my way to some sort of math/science major. I was well immersed in both Calculus and Physics and up until this point; I had never needed to study. I had hit a wall in math as everyone does, they say it’s not about whether you will or not, but when. Having invested so much time already in the pursuit of math, I decided to bite the bullet for the first time and actually study. Management caught wind of this decision and immediately took action. Another dreadful memo was sent out to all employees stating that from here on out, all employees were to study English and English only. This, of course, seemed ludicrous at the time. Didn’t I fail sophomore English not once, but twice in high school? First in the regular year, then again in summer school, leading me to take both sophomore and junior English classes my junior year. At this point, the fear of losing my job was still too great, but the decisions being made were starting to mount up against management. Rumors of a union began to surface, but no serious action was taken.

July 14, 1998. With my time in J. C. at an end, it was time to move on to a four year school and get my degree. Southern California had always been my home, and I loved it dearly, but part of me thought it would be nice to see how things happen on the right side of the country. I looked at some schools in the New York and Boston areas and found a few candidates that were to my liking. A trip was planned and I made my rounds on the East Coast seeing which school had the most to offer me. Little did I know that management had already singled out Wagner College (located on Staten Island, NY… and no, that’s not where the Statue of Liberty is…damn, read a book or something!). I was informed almost as an afterthought, a mere courtesy on the part of management to allow me to know the whereabouts of my relocation. Management was really starting to tick me off.

June 1, 2000. Fresh out of college with a degree in hand, I moved back to California and decided it was time to enter the work force. I thought that being a college graduate was an accomplishment and that I should have no trouble finding a job. With resume in hand, I prepare to hunt jobs down, waiting for the perfect pray to cross my path and fall victim to my awesome list of qualifications. Management felt that the pressure was too high and that immediate action was necessary. I was forced back into the pizza delivery game. I thought I gave it up when I moved to NY, but there I was, a product of managerial idiocy, slinging pizza for minimum wage. I’m pretty sure I was the only college graduate working there, and yes, my parents were proud beyond words. I certainly don’t recall them saying anything like, “You have 40k in college loans to pay back, and you’re delivering pizza!?!?!” or, “I didn’t realize they taught you how to be an underachiever in college these days.”

February 18, 2003. Having completely and utterly outlived my life as a pizza delivery driver, I had decided enough was enough. Some good friends of mine in NY wanted me to move out there to live with them. So much so that they provided me with an offer so tempting I couldn’t refuse. They were offering me one month, rent free, to find a job. It was just the break I had been looking for. I needed a change of scenery, and I really wanted to hang out with my friends again on a daily basis like I did back in college. It was going to be tight, but if I worked my butt off, I could just barely scrape up enough to fly out and spend one month job hunting. Oddly enough, management had no objections to this, in fact they were quite supportive. It was the a-hole that ran the stop sign right in front of me that night while I was delivering pizza, totaling my car and effectively cutting off my income entirely. By the way, the stop sign wasn’t the only thing he ran… he also ran from the scene… I don’t currently have a lot of respect for that man… whoever he is… The accident led to a chain reaction of events. I had to look locally for a job, which led to my current form of work, title insurance, and I’ve been sucked into the monotony ever since…the last two years really are a blur, and I don’t mean that in a good way.

April 15, 2005. In a bit of a writing rut, I desperately look for things to blog about, but the pressure from within is so great that it blurs my vision. Management then issues the now infamous, “Quantity of Quality” memo and my three readers are forced to endure one of the most painfully long-winded and unnecessary posts to date. I’m pretty sure no one’s going to make it this far. I know I would have given up. I’d have been like, “Sorry dude, this crap is way too long and I’ve got laundry to do.” I wouldn’t have actually done the laundry though, I probably would have just surfed around the net some more, checking out all my favorites… seeing if Strongbad has a new email at http://www.homestarrunner.com/ or maybe what’s new with http://www.brianregan.com/ and of course, checking all the scores at http://www.espn.go.com/

It should be noted that most of the above is based loosely on fact. While the dates may not be exact (Feb. 18, 2003 is, because I will never forget that day…F*&$ that guy… and I guess April 15, 2005 is pretty exact too, I mean, I’d have to be pretty stupid to forget what actually happened today) most of the events are probably what happened… maybe, I don’t know, I wasn’t video taping it or anything.

This concludes another post. Feel free to release any nonsense you may have retained from the above from your mind so that you can remember more important things like, what is Tony Danza doing these days, and who really WAS the boss… until next time, try not to body slam any unsuspecting five year olds.

6 comments:

jazz said...

this was long, dear. am not going to lie to you, i definitely skimmed. i really liked the beginning. if i had more time (am writing papers and studying for exams) i'd take the time to read it all...

Jon said...

No worries, I think it started much better than it ended. I think it peaked with Christmas Eve… We are nearing the end of the school year, aren’t we? I miss those days… summer vacation was awesome, now all I get is two weeks paid vacation every year… it’s no way to live.

cadiz12 said...

jon, you need to get on that union. or invest in some management training.

tony danza has an incredibly lame talk show that runs at 2 a.m. in the midwest. he has signed a pact with the devil because he consistently has fabulous guests, but spends his time playing ridiculous games and besting them at pushups (i'm serious -- even the gardener from desperatehousewives)

don't worry; that light/accident running bastard will eventually end up in a coma to pay back his karma.

Jon said...

I’d like to unionize, but my body has had a long history of not being able to agree on anything. Some of it may be due to the fact that I’m not fully through puberty yet, but I guess there was a vote awhile back on whether or not I should have chest hair, well, the left side and right side were in complete disagreement… long story short, things got out of hand, and I have a lot more hair on the right side of my chest than I do on the left. If I wasn’t such a huge freak of nature already, I’d probably be worried, but it’s really kind of minor in comparison to some of my other physical defects… And management training? Come on, that’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one… you can’t even train those guys to play golf, and they spend pretty much every day out on the course… They aren’t down in the trenches with all the other grunts, they just come in and make arbitrary decisions based on largely on what the mystic 8 ball revealed to them…

cadiz12 said...

maybe you should promote management to a higher-ranking but less involved position. then it'll have the corner office, but be out of your way.

Jon said...

I’d like to do just that, but this is a small company, and we simply don’t have room for that kind of growth right now. Besides, the corner office isn’t all it’s cracked up to be… the office is in an industrial area, so the view pretty much sucks, and it’s totally on the other side of the building from the bathroom and snack machines…