I have say, today I'm floating on a cloud. Last weekend I got a job offer from a company closer to my house and, after some brief consideration, decided to accept their offer. The current position I'm in was the first job I'd had after 10 years in the Air Force so I never had the pleasure of submitting a resignation.
Well last monday I finally had that uplifting experience. I handed my resignation letter to my boss and suddenly it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I literally stopped outside my boss's office with this dumbfounded deer-in-the-headlights look that gradually transformed into a smirk nearly equal to that Christmas Stealing Bastart, the Grinch. It was so extreme that I could HEAR the flesh on my face stretching.
Oh, I handed my boss my two weeks notice all right, but he handed me something greater. I had suddenly become that African White Guy in Lethal Weapon 4...i could do whatever I wanted and yell "Diplomatic Immunity" as i drove away in my Mercedes Benz cackling like a mad scientist...Of course, in this case its a Ford Focus and i'm not really that good at cackling...yet.
But seriously, i'd been given a License to Ill. My excuse? What are they gonna do...fire me?
It started out somewhat tame...i had to test the boundaries of my new found freedom. The first test was a reply e-mail to a certain customer who I really hated dealing with. This person was the kind of jerk (and i'm sure you have them where you work) where anytime something goes wrong, they e-mail you about it but CC everyone else in the organization in an attempt to make you look like a dipshit. I decided to return the favor. I was literally trembling with glee as I hit the "send" button. I've pasted the e-mail response into this blog for proof...read on, my friends (and note the "P.S.":
Patti,
I'm just a little curious why you don't contact us directly rather than CC a ton of people who have little or no responsibility (or care for that matter) concerning IT issues. It would probably be a better idea, in between picking out your zebra skinned skirts, if you gave MIS the opportunity to at least take a look at the problem before crying wolf to the masses. It tends to make us feel like you're dragging us through the mud.
We're here to help out and will provide the best support we possibly can. Please give us the opportunity to do so.
PS: Chill out on the perfume...its scary
From: Geiger, Patti
Sent: Wednesday, August 03, 2005 9:18 AM
To: Gendron, Christopher; Witmer, Mike; Wagner, Brian
Cc: Bartlett, Chuck; Ross, Bill; Hickok, Steve
Subject: 200,000 Drawing Folder Is gone.
Importance: High
So with that water tested successfully I began to try out other aspects of my freedom. Yesterday afternoon I decided that I wasn't going to walk anywhere in the department. Instead, I rolled around on my office chair claiming that my walking shoes were in the shop. Today, i followed my boss into the bathroom and waited until he went into the stall, then I turned out the lights and ran out...that was fun!
Being the Network Manager I have certain God-Like abilities. I am thinking of sending an e-mail to the entire company from the CEO with new employee rules such as:
1. From here on out all phone calls and e-mail will be concluded with "over and out!" The phrases "roger" and "aye aye" may also be used.
2. The outdoor smoking section has now been relocated to the first floor conference center. Smoke 'em if you got 'em!
3. The last friday of every month is now designated "Thong Day." Employees are highly urged to participate.
4. We've designated August as Cultural Growth Month. To help support this program we will be showing Cheech and Chong movies every Wednesday in the lunch room...over and out!
I'll keep you posted on the development of that one...
I thought it might be fun to call the helpdesk and pretend I was a customer. So this morning I picked up my cell phone and dialed in:
Helpdesk: Helpdesk, can I help you?
me *with southern accent*: how you doin?
Helpdesk: umm..i'm fine
me: thats good cause its hot, aint it?
Helpdesk: yes...i think it is.
me: man, I walked out in the driveway and the blacktop burnt the hell out mah feet
Helpdesk: ....hmmm, ok. so how can I help you
me: you know anything about chickens?
Helpdesk: about wha-
me: cause i got a chicken in here and I think the thing is confused.
Helpdesk: sir I-
me: damn thing keeps tryin' to hump the cat. I keep shooin' him off the cat but he just hops right back up there.
Helpdesk: uh...sir this is the Helpdesk
me: I tried using the hose on the bastard but that just pissed it off. Chickens don't have dicks do they?
Helpdesk: I...
me: cause if they don't...this dickless chicken is really confused...
Helpdesk: sir this is the helpdesk...we wouldn't know any-
me: that's why I called you...i need help. My chicken is tryin to fuck my cat!
Helpdesk: uh...
me: oh hell...here comes the money shot!!! *click*
So I figure I have about a week left of antics. I wonder if they'll keep me on that long? I'll keep you posted. Roger, over and out!
posted by Michael Witmer @ Thursday, August 04, 2005
5 Comments:
Haha. You're a shithead. But I know where you're coming from.
It was about a year ago that I was handing in my resignation letter to a flabergasted boss.
When I left my last job, I needed to clean out my little field engineer van of anything personal.
So, of course, I took my supply of gummy worms and suspenders as well as my picture of evander holyfield's mangled ear.
I decided, since I too had been using the ever present post-two-week-notice line "What are you gonna do? Fire me?" and I knew that nobody would be driving the van anytime soon, that I would leave a 1/2 eaten hot dog and a totally full extra large cup of coke inside.
If anyone has ever left one of those fast food coke cups in your car for any length of time in the august sun, you know that the coke essentially breaks down the cardboard cup and then becomes a sticky syrupy mess.
Unforunatley, I never got to see the results of my little rebellion, but I can only imagine the stench when they opened up the long closed van to the smell of sticky coke and penicillan infested bun...not to mention...the nasty overbaked smell of a artificially encased half eaten hot dog...
Oh yeah, and I pissed on the tires.
Over and out.
ok, i'll bite (no pun intended)...why did you have a pic of holyfields ear?
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
momma always said...a picture of holyfield's ear is important...because it reminds us all that sometimes things just don't make no sense...
It kinda reminds me of the sticky buns in the wal-mart pastry aisle.
Hey...what happened to your original post? It says "removed."
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