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A Chick With Glaucoma Is Doing My Filing. by -Z- by -Z-

As you can imagine, she’s still not done. 

We hired this girl at my job.  Initially, we all thought she was about 30.  Turns out, she’s 21. Smoker…Poster Child for Anti-Smoking Campaigns.  She had a decent resume, and got the Filing job.  The job is a bit monotonous, but it’s not rocket science.  Do you know your alphabet? Good.  She’s been working at my firm for one month.  What’s my beef? Keep reading….1. Her first week on the job, she tells our boss that she hates filing.  Which is her sole purpose and the title of her job. File Clerk.  She would pad around the office SIGHING and humming while filing.  

2. Her second week, she came in on Monday, and told me that something was wrong with her eyes. That she needed to go to the doctor. Fine. Our office is laid back.  We give people the benefit of the doubt.  

She calls the next day, and says “My doctor says I have glaucoma, because I’ve been wearing my contacts for two years straight.” 

Fucking great.  We hired the dumbest bitch in the universe. Which makes us look like the dumbest bitches in the universe. Ugh. Fuck. 

So apparently, she’s blind for the rest of the week and doesn’t come in. 

 

 

3. The next week, she’s in the office.  She asks someone where the vending machines are located in our building.  Game over.  The rest of us start tallying how many trips to the vending machine she makes per day.  We contemplate whether she’s pregnant, or just has a food baby.  Her new nicknames becomes Vending Machine Baby and Transfat Baby.  She feeds quarters for Cheetos more efficiently than she files.

4. That Monday, I tell her the filing needs to get done that week. ALL OF IT.  I tell her that if it gets to be Thursday or Friday, and she’s overwhelmed, tell us, and we’ll all help out.  That week she tells me that her sister just had bilateral kidney failure, and has 48 hours to live.  She says this to me in a baby voice. A BABY VOICE!!  I have to use all my inner wooosaaa to not punch her teeth in. I tell her that if that’s true she should talk to our boss and go to the hospital.  I look at her like I know she’s full of shit.  She says she doesn’t want to talk to our boss and she’ll stay at work. No one hears another word about her “dying” sister. 

5.  That week (which was last week), she’s leaving randomly, coming in at different times, claiming doctor appointments for Glaucoma.  Then, on Thursday, she says she feels like she has the flu, and needs to go to the doctor. Okay, so she leaves and calls in sick on Friday. Says she had gone to the emergency room, and was diagnosed with Strep Throat.  HOW do you FEEL like you have the flu, but ACTUALLY have it be Strep??!?!?! HOW?!??! Strep Throat hurts like a bitch, in your throat.  The flu doesn’t hurt in the throat.  Oohhhhh this girl is a LIAR!!

6. So, today, she rolls her ass into the office at 9 a.m.  Everyone else gets in between 8:00 and 8:30 a.m.  She doesn’t do a fucking thing.  I walk over to her and tell her “I told you that the filing needed to be done two weeks ago. I know you were sick. It needs to be done by tomorrow.”  She proceeds to take an hour and a half lunch, and tells us that she wasn’t at lunch, she was looking for the storage room to get manila folders (which we don’t keep in the storage room…also she doesn’t have a key with access to the storage room) and couldn’t find it. LIAR!!!! She leaves at 2:30 today, telling our boss 15 minutes before she leaves that she has a doctor’s appointment. LIAR!!! After she leaves, the boss flips through a legal pad on her desk and finds, plane schedules for a vacation, doodles, and a letter to her boyfriend.  Zero work product.  The boss tells me that he had caught her earlier falling asleep at her desk.  He tells me he saw her putting a bandaid on her knee, and she said she wanted to sue the building, because she tripped.  No one saw her actually work today.  This bitch is on her way out. It’s a recession and plenty people need a good job, and this cunt just can’t give a shit.  I’m losing my mind!!! 

In conclusion, a small view into my office rage, via gchat w/ the NSA:

A Brief Office Gchat Look-See:

 

me: last week i told her she needed to have all the filing done by the end of the week
 still not done
  i just had to tell her it has to be done by tomorrow
  won’t be done
 NSA: well do you really want cheeto fingers all over our filing?
 me: “what is this bag of skittles doing in my file?”
  “that’s for later!” 

 

Thats right. Fuck you file clerk.

That's right. Fuck you Transfat Baby.

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2 Comments so far
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You call it your “firm”?

Comment by ioncehadpartedhair




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