Tag Archives: Work

Happy Fifth of July!

Happy Fifth of July everybody. If there’s one day out of the whole year that gets absolutely no respect, it’s today, July 5^th. The day after Christmas is awesome because you’re still playing with all of your new stuff. The day after Easter is equally cool because Easter sucks and it’s a relief to not have to pretend to be celebrating a bullshit holiday anymore. But July 5^th, man, nobody likes July 5^th.

And that’s too bad. Everybody looks forward to the Fourth, there’s usually some sort of a three-day weekend involved, except for this year, the Fourth is on a Thursday, and so all of the bosses are like, what are you high? A four-day weekend? Nice try. We’re actually giving you a two-day weekend this year. So don’t get too comfortable on Thursday. Seriously, stop laughing. I’m not joking around at all. I expect you in the office at nine tomorrow.

And so chances are you’re probably reading this from work. Maybe your boss sent out a mass text to everyone at like seven am, “Rise and shine team! Just a friendly reminder that we are OPEN FOR BUSINESS and that I expect you all AT YOUR DESKS in two hours!!!” And it gets to the heart of why everybody hates this day. On July 5^th, it’s just this annual reminder that summer’s never going to be as fun or as cool as it was when we were all little kids.

I mean, yes, next year the Fourth is going to be on a Friday, and so the fifth will get a little bit of a break, but not much. That’s just Saturday. The default awesomeness of Saturday comes at a price, namely that, while it’s consistently the best day out of the week every single week, it’s kind of stuck there at its weekly level of greatness. What I’m saying is, you try taking a really great day and throwing it on a Saturday and it kind of evens out to just another Saturday.

Like when Christmas is on a Saturday. Nothing’s worse, because your boss is like, this is great, we don’t have to give any days off for the holidays this year. And there’s always one employee who fancies himself a leader, he starts going around from employee to employee, “This isn’t fair! We should all just make our case, that we want off for Christmas Eve!”

And some people coworkers might be like, “Yeah!” but even his more vocal supporters aren’t going to actually stick their necks out. Most people are just going to be like, “You know what’s worse than having to come in this Friday? Having to sit here and listen to you plot out a Christmas Eve revolution. Get out.”

When he finally goes to the boss, the boss is like, “No, we feel that the two-day weekend is more than fair, and we expect everybody to work the whole day on Friday,” and, realizing that things aren’t really going as he envisioned in his head, the employee might reach for a feeble, “Come on, maybe a half day?” but the boss just shakes his head from side to side.

July 5^th should be more appreciated. If I were in charge, first of all, I wouldn’t make anybody come in today at all. I’d say, “Enjoy the four-day weekend everybody,” adding, “and you know what? Take Monday off also. Enjoy the five-day weekend.” I’d be a hero. And I’d be doing my staff a service. Everybody wants a vacation during the summer, but why are you supposed to use your vacation time? And you take a week off sometime in July, then you’ve got to get out there and vacation with every other person in America also trying to take a summer break, and the airlines jack the prices and everything’s more expensive.

Fuck that. There should be a built-in, government mandated weeklong summer holiday, starting on July 5^th. Obviously we’d still have the Fourth off, but this would be separate, a July 5^th week off.

But if I were the boss, and I still had a boss, and even though I wanted to give everybody off, maybe my boss would be like, “Absolutely not!” and he’d be shaking this printed out spreadsheet at me, like, look at these numbers, just look! “And you want to give the whole team a day off?” In this situation, I’d at least get everybody a catered breakfast. People would come in, all pissed off that they really have to work on Friday after having had off on Thursday and they’d see trays of eggs benedict and French toast. It would make the day. And of course there’d be a catered lunch as well.

Man, don’t Google employees get that every day? I’ve applied for a Google job like twelve times and they never even respond, they’re just like, “Thanks! Someone has received your application!” Goddamn, I want what they have. I bet you nobody at Google is working today. I bet you they have free Fifth of July t-shirts on the way into the office, but nobody’s wearing them because everybody has the day off. Meanwhile, the rest of the working world is lucky they have the Friday off after Thanksgiving. Hey Google, come on, give me a job, please, I’ll do anything. Just let me have that free lunch. If your Internet robots are out there crawling the web, have them send this blog post to somebody at HR.

Anyway, try to keep your chin up. This fifth of July will be over in no time and, it’s really not that bad, tomorrow’s Saturday. Everybody loves Saturday. Just make sure you stay the full day today, like all the way until five, or six, or ten if you’re a lawyer of something like that. Happy fifth everybody!

Boss, I’d like a raise

A few weeks ago I was getting so fed up at work, I was like, man, I can’t do this anymore, I’ve got to get out. But how do you just leave a job? How do you get out when you don’t have anywhere else to go? So I sat on it for a while, my frustration, my bitterness, everything growing steadily until I couldn’t, like I really couldn’t do it anymore.

So I figured, well, maybe I’ll act like I’m going somewhere else. Maybe if I started going through the motions, then everything would just fall in line, all universal, like the universe, like all of those new age self-help books that I see people reading, about unlocking the secrets of the universe, you’ve got to, like, you’ve got to act on it, and then you’ll get it, right?

So I was like, boss, I need a raise. And he was like, no way, waiters don’t get raises, company policy. And so I was like, fine, well, maybe I’ll find a different company. And he didn’t even look up from his papers, and the tone of his voice didn’t change at all, but I could tell he was annoyed, he was like, fine, go ahead man, good luck out there.

And then I left his office and I was like, shit, that’s not what I was going for, a raise? No, I want out. But then I got in there and, you know how it is when you have to talk to your boss. It doesn’t matter what you had planned out, you get in there, he’s not looking up from his papers, you have to knock on his door even though he’s just sitting there, you see him through the glass just sitting there, like I don’t get what a knock’s going to do differently than if I just open it up.

But still, it’s like, hey Rob, you mind knocking next time? And so I knocked. But was that too gently? Did he hear me? Maybe I should knock again. And I did, and he was like, all right, I’m coming, I can hear you, hold your horses there partner, and he was clearly annoyed.

And then I was like, hey boss, can I ask you something? And he didn’t say anything, so what do I do? I asked about a raise. That wasn’t what I wanted to say, but he was already nodding in disapproval, and I was just thinking, get out now, but I didn’t, I said the whole maybe I’ll find somewhere else to work bit.

So then after work that day I asked my buddy Pete to call up the boss, pretend you’re somebody else Pete, somebody from a different job. Call him to ask about me as a potential employee. And so my boss answered, I was sitting right there, right next to Pete, and he was like, hello? Yes, this is Pete, I mean … Peter. It was already off to a weird start. And he was like, yes, I’m calling about Rob … Robert. For a job. Yes. OK. Nope. Got it. Terrific.

And I said, Pete, what happened? And he was like, nothing. He didn’t say anything. He was just like, yeah, Rob had been mentioning he’d been looking for work. Do you like him? Do you have any questions? And that was it.

Fuck, Pete. Come on, you’re supposed to play some hardball. You’re supposed to be making it, like for my boss, so he’s like, shit, I didn’t think Rob was really going to go, maybe I should give him a raise, screw company policy. Maybe he is serious about leaving. Now I was like, shit, what am I going to do? Do I say anything to my boss?

But my boss didn’t say anything to me. Not for a week. Not for another week. So finally I knocked on his door again. I waited after I knocked, like a minute. Two minutes. I raise my hand to knock again and he was like, all right, come in. I said, hey boss, thanks for putting in the good word for me. And he just kind of nodded.

But you see boss, I think I’m going to stay. I’m a part of the team, right boss? So, yeah, I think I should stay right here. Nothing. So boss, maybe like a little raise? And he was like, I told you already Rob, that’s just not going to happen. And I was like, well, could I maybe have like something? Like a free lunch? A free Coke? And he just nodded, nope, and then held up his hands, like, sorry buddy. But I don’t think he was sorry.

And it’s crazy because I didn’t even want a raise. I didn’t want anything. I just want out. I don’t know why I thought I’d talk to my boss. I should be talking to other bosses, other potential bosses. Not my idiot friend Pete. But come on, not even a free Coke? One free glass bottle of Mexican Coke? That’s total bullshit, because I see the boss giving a free Coke to the grill guy like every other day, definitely every Friday, and he doesn’t even say anything to him, he just kind of tosses it to him, and while it’s still in the air, while it’s perfectly in between both of them, almost suspended at the top of the arc of the throw, they look at each other, they have a little nod and a wink, a really subtle keep up the good work man, we’re all really proud of what you’re doing. Enjoy this ice-cold Coke man, on us, on me, we’re fucking tight you and me, drink up.

About that raise

Boss, I’m going to be direct. I’m here to ask for a raise. That’s right. I feel that I’ve earned it, that I work really hard, much harder than the majority of my coworkers, definitely harder than Phil, than Maggie in accounting. And that guy who works on the third floor, always wearing the big hats … you know, it’s not important. I’m not trying to put anyone else down. Except Phil and Maggie. I definitely work much harder than those two. Like, if you could somehow combine them into one person, or just add up their hours, or, not their hours, but their productivity. I guarantee you that it doesn’t add up to my productivity, or even my hours.

Before you say no boss, I want to stop you right there. Maggie, or, let’s just say one of my coworkers, someone in accounting, they put up this Facebook post about a big raise. Yes, I know corporate policy regarding social media. I’m not friends with this person on Facebook. But my sister is. Apparently last week everyone went out for karaoke and my sister happened to be there and so, you know how it is, how some people are, they meet ten new people and start sending out ten new Facebook friend requests. And all of the sudden my sister’s like, “Oh Rob, tell Maggie congratulations about her new raise!”

Look, I’m not saying it was Maggie. I don’t remember who it was. All I’m saying is, I deserve this. What’s the corporate policy on raises? We have to wait for a performance review, right? Well, it’s just that, it’s funny, because I feel like during my last performance review I was trying too hard, too hard to be humble, something I’m not. I mean, I am humble, in a good way, you know, it’s just that performance reviews, it’s like …

Why didn’t I get a raise last performance review? I feel like, nobody even heard about that time that I fixed the copy machine, the huge one right outside of Conference Room B. Yeah, you remember, right? A while back? Like right before the performance reviews. It wasn’t loading anything from the main tray, it was like, if you wanted anything copied, you had to load from paper tray 3, and so you’d have to feed it manually every time you wanted a copy, but nobody knew about it, like whenever somebody’s secretary was out, they’d walk from the copy machine to me and just kind of be like, “Hey! You! Make ten copies and put them on my desk!” like walking away before they even finished the sentence.

So that day … please, this is huge … one day I’m like, OK, nobody’s making a real effort to fix the machine, let me see what I can do. So I stayed late, I called the manufacturer, I looked up videos on Youtube, and it was easy. I mean, it wasn’t that easy, I was here for like two hours, three extra hours, but … and you know what the funny thing was? It was a staple, just one staple, jammed right in the main feeder. But, no, that’s not the funny part, the funny part is, I never knew we had a staple function on that machine, so do you know how much time I saved everybody, the rest of the staff, putting up fliers, letting them know that, one, the copy machine was fixed, and two, that the machine could staple stuff for you?

And I didn’t get any credit. Like, I wrote about it on Facebook but, but you know corporate Facebook policy. But that was me. What? No, it definitely wasn’t Maggie, they never even use that machine, they have their own machine over by accounting. Which is another thing, why do they get their own machine? Look, that’s not important.

What’s important is this, growth, raise. I’d like a raise. And I’m prepared to not be willing to take no for an answer. Seriously? The answer’s no? Well, that’s … that’s unacceptable. I can’t accept that. Well, maybe I will. Yeah. Sure. OK, fine, I will leave your office. Well maybe this company would get along fine without you too.

No, I’ll … I’ll let you know, I mean, no … no I don’t want to leave just yet. Just, OK, yeah, I’ll look for something else. OK … seriously? OK … OK.

Now it’s too late to go skiing

Man, this was the longest winter ever and I don’t feel like I took advantage of it at all. I only went skiing once, and it was in February. Yeah, the snow was great, perfect powder, that’s how real ski people, or the real ski people I’m imagining in my head anyway, that’s how they describe really good snow, powder, some really nice powder. But I only got to go the one time. Whenever it’s summer, fall, when it starts getting really cold but it hasn’t snowed anywhere yet, I always have these visions of me driving up to the mountains every weekend, really taking advantage of that powder, hitting the slopes, getting in some serious downhill time.

But I don’t have a car. And I work every weekend. My days off, well, it’s not the same every week, but it’s Monday, it’s Tuesday. Which, now that I’m thinking about it, those should be great days to go skiing, nobody else on the mountain, all of that powder to myself. But it’s never that easy. My days off finally arrive and then the next thing I know, it’s Saturday again, which, to you, the average reader, is like Wednesday. And I’m like, man, half the week behind me, half of it in front. Where is all of my free time? How am I ever going to find a minute to sneak away to the mountains?

And so when I did finally go this winter, I was pretty conscious that it was probably going to be my only time up there. Or, I was half conscious. The talking part of my brain was just yapping really loud and fast in my head, saying nonsense like, “Wow! This is terrific! Powder! It’s only February! There’ll still be powder in March! I can still go skiing in March! I’ll definitely go skiing in March! So what if there’s no more powder, they make pretty decent snow! It’ll be great!” all while I’m handing over my credit card to pay for the seventy dollar lift ticket, the calculating reptile number part of my brain, it’s not saying anything out loud, it doesn’t have to, that’s not how that side of the brain works. But if I had to translate the thoughts going on in there to English, it would be something like, “Ha. Powder. Please. He’s lucky I allowed him this one weekend. Work. Money. That’s all I care about!”

No car, no other weekends. It’s April already. As of writing this right now, right this second, I’m told that it’s the first day of spring. That’s what they say, anyway. I haven’t left the house yet. I already got fooled once last week with some alleged promise of spring-like weather. My days off were, yup, Monday and Tuesday. And everything for that week’s forecast said fifty, fifty-five degrees. Better break out the windbreaker. I got up that Monday and did my writing, told myself I’d take the dog for an hour long, two-hour long walk, to the park, to just bask in the springtime, finally.

And I made it outside and, yeah, it was slightly warmer, but not what I would really consider warm. I thought about skiing, how in previous winters I’ve been up at the mountains and have had actual days of skiing, dressed in wool socks and down jackets, in temperatures about the same as it was this day. Then the sky got really gray. Once the dog and I got about forty-five minutes away from the house, it started raining, a cold rain. The temperature dropped. I tried to hoof it back home, but the dog had to shake himself dry every five seconds. I was like, “Hey dog! Less shaking and more walking! Shaking isn’t going to do anything because you’re still going to be wet, it’s still raining,” but that’s when you know you’re in a bad spot, when you’re just yelling at your dog, him not understanding anything, his thought process must have been like, “Man, what did I do to be dragged out of my warm house and subjected to this water torture?”

We got home. The temperature dropped even more that night. The thermostat kicked in but I already had a chill in my body. That night I went to sleep shivering, and I dreamt of being cold, of being cold but taking advantage of that cold, getting into my imaginary dream car and heading up to that imaginary mountain, abundant with imaginary powder. And I thought to myself in my dream, “See? I knew I’d take advantage of this winter, that I’d get to go skiing at least twice,” and it was one of those really real type of dreams, one where, I wasn’t necessarily thinking about it right away when I woke up the next day, but days later, when I started thinking about skiing, when I sat down to write this whole thing up about skiing, and I’m writing about how I didn’t take advantage of the winter, that idiot part of my brain chimed in, “What are you talking about? We went skiing that second time last week,” and only for a moment I was fooled, like for a quarter of a second I thought about how much fun I had upstate that imaginary second time around.

If you could come in tomorrow, that’d be great

I was at work the other day, my last day of the week, looking forward to two consecutive days off, just as soon as I finished this one shift. And then I heard one of my managers going around to all of my coworkers asking them if they could work tomorrow.

Shit. It’s not that I feel too much pressure to work when I don’t want to. I don’t have to say yes. But it’s like sometimes I’ll say no, and then the manager will go around and ask everybody else, and everybody else will also say no, and then the manager will come back to me, he or she will be like, “Can you please work tomorrow?” and they’ll have that begging look in their eye, and in that one moment of desperation all barriers are broken down, the invisible and, I would say, artificial authority that separates me as a human being from them as another human being.

And even though I don’t want to, I’ll sometimes start to feel bad. I’ll look the manager in the eye and curse my empathy as I agree, albeit begrudgingly, very obviously begrudgingly, like a way over-exaggerated, “Ughh … fine. I guess. Fine.”

But not this day. I had just finished a long week. I had been looking forward to these days off. “Hey Rob, could you work tomorrow?” “Sorry boss, I can’t help you out.” And he walked away, started making the rounds to the rest of the staff.

A lot of the time when the managers get really desperate to cover a hole in the schedule they’ll start cutting these deals. If I have my own scheduling problem sometimes I can use their desperation to my advantage, like depending on how badly he needed tomorrow covered, I could be like, “Well, let me off two days from now and you’ve got a deal.”

But again, I really, really didn’t want to go to work, so I didn’t even try it. I overheard him asking a coworker, “Come on, work tomorrow. I’ll buy you a free lunch.” Free lunch. That used to be tempting for me. Normally all restaurant employees get fifty percent off anything on the menu, and I feel bad going to work and then giving them some of their money back. So the offer for a free meal is cool in theory, but I’ve never really feel comfortable taking advantage of this particular perk.

First of all, I have to sit in the restaurant, like at a table, like some other waiter or waitress is going to have to serve me my food. This is always slightly weird, for me anyway, to be on the receiving end of what are my normal day-to-day tasks. I know it’s probably all in my head, but I can feel everybody in the restaurant watching me, judging my order, looking at me strangely if I’m sitting by myself.

And what am I going to order anyway? If the manager gives me a free lunch and I order something expensive, something really good, isn’t that going to be seen as me taking too much advantage of what should have been a simple gesture of gratitude? I’d feel kind of bad being like, “Fuck it. Give me the fifty-dollar New York strip. Ha!”

So yeah, the free lunch trick doesn’t really work on me anymore. Honestly, I’d rather spend my lunch break going to Chipotle anyway. Jesus Christ I’m so addicted to Chipotle. Sometimes if it’s really slow I’ll sneak out even when it’s not my lunch break and have a quick burrito.

But all of that’s entirely beside the point. My boss must have received a bunch of flat rejections from everybody else, because I saw him coming my way. Come on Rob, I told myself, stay resolute, don’t make eye contact.

“Rob,” he started. I already had my mouth halfway open, I was about to say something like, “Listen, there’s no way I’m working tomorrow. I’m really sorry, but absolutely no way.” I was about to say that. But he continued, “work tomorrow and I’ll give you a bottle of wine.”

And before I even had time to make sense of the offer, I blurted out, “All right. Deal.”

What the hell? I felt like Kramer in that episode of Seinfeld where he forgoes his lawsuit against the coffee shop because they offer him free coffee for life. Deal? I don’t know what got into me. I was just blindsided by the uniqueness of the offer. I’d never heard of anybody getting a free bottle of wine.

So yeah, I had to work the next day. It wasn’t that bad. I haven’t tried the wine yet. I think I’m scared to open it up and taste it. The whole thing seems so illicit, like what’s wrong with me that I can be instantly convinced to turn on my own convictions for a bottle of wine? It better be a good wine. I know that it’s going to be a mind game, like that first sip, regardless of what my tongue experiences, my brain’s going to override, saying, “Yes. This is good. Yup. This is great. This was totally worth it.” Although, I also know that, after it’s done, that same brain is going to second-guess itself, “I guess. Was it good? I don’t know. It was OK. It was, you know, it was winey,” and I’ll be left confused, unfulfilled. So yeah, I’m just staring at it, maybe I’ll never drink it. Maybe next time I’ll hold out until they offer me a bottle of bourbon.