Day #833

8:58 AM: Mrs. O’Leary walked over to Roseanne Barr with a tricky computer question.

Mrs. O’Leary: Hey Roseanne?

Roseanne Barr: Yes Mrs. O’Leary?

Mrs. O’Leary: These little slots over here on our hard drives?

Roseanne Barr: What slots:

Mrs. O’Leary [pointing to the computer]: These little guys right here.

Roseanne Barr: The USB?

Mrs. O’Leary: Yeah, can that accommodate a flash drive?

Roseanne Barr: Yep. All the time.

Working here for 40+ years and never learned that those little slots were called USB ports.

9:17 AM: Mrs. O’Leary is not happy. She picked up the phone, dialed a number and…

Hi, are you the one I left a message for yesterday to call me? Okay I was in there for a cleaning in January and while I was still there in the office I paid for it – IN FULL – with Debit MasterCard. And without my consent you or someone at your office turned around and filed an insurance claim in my name…You never had my permission to do that… You know, I am really fit to be tied about this… Yes. And now, you not only goofed up my payment for the rest of the year, but you filed a bogus claim… Mhmmm… YOU SHOULD… I don’t understand how this could happen. On top of that, I got a billing claim the next week, so I called you then and explained that I paid when I was there and I wanted a corrected statement sent to my attention immediately. I never heard back from you. I never heard back from anyone at your office at all. You know how much trouble you people could be in for that?… Yeah… Heather, what is your last name? You have a job title there?…

No, it doesn’t seem like you do. The right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing at all. And you don’t look at someone record before you’re sending that stuff out. It’s an inexcusable error… No… NO! I’m not talking to anyone else about this, honey. This was your mistake in the first place and it’s yours to correct…. Ummmm I want something in writing that you’ve contacted my insurance company saying that you’ve claimed something in error… Well here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to call them and you’re going to follow up with a letter. That’s what you’re going to do… You already have my email address… It’s in my records. LOOK IT UP… Okay. Goodbye.

I maintain that she should be asking for a refund. Her teeth look like they’re made entirely of cigarette butts.



2:30 PM: 
I ran into Roseanne Barr and Wanda Sykes on their way back from their weekly Thursday lunch…

Roseanne Barr: Hey, did you know they’re going to have candy down here in the building lobby tomorrow for St. Patrick’s Day?

Me: Yeah, I heard that.

Roseanne Barr: You’d think our office manager would have sent us an email about it so we actually know.

There are signs in the lobby and the TV screens in the elevators tell us about the candy in the lobby tomorrow.

Me: The Fun Committee actually did email us while you guys were out at lunch.

Here’s what they emailed us:

Untitled

Roseanne Barr: You’re kidding me.

Wanda Sykes: See? More of this shit. What did I tell you.

Roseanne Barr: Why do they do that?

Me: Do what?

Roseanne Barr: Spend money on candy for St. Patrick’s Day and they had all that stuff for Fat Tuesday a few weeks ago. Where is all this money coming from when we’re all supposed to be cutting corners?

Wanda Sykes: I told you! They didn’t spend all that money to rent the popcorn machine for the Oscars party, so they have leftover funds to spread out the stuff through the rest of the year.

Roseanne Barr: Well, I don’t find my work to be any more “fun” with all this Fun Committee stuff. The HR Director thinks everyone loves all this stuff, but who gives a  crap? Does this make your work any more fun?

It doesn’t.

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