Just Another Day
It's been a couple of weeks since Eat Monster sampled some premium voltage flowing through her limbs. Much to my surprise she hasn't managed to harm herself anywhere else on the instrument line. I avoid her as much as I can on the line, but sometimes no matter what I do, I'm forced to converse with this beast. She informed me the reason why she farts all the time is because of her medicine. Eat Monster claims it's a side effect. I never asked nor did I want to know why she is frequently backfiring on us all. Too much information. It took us a few days to notice it, but Eat Monster has developed a new behavior that was as unexpected as her ability to no longer cause herself injury. She has been disappearing from the production area for most of the shift. What she does is sneak off the line when she thinks none of us are looking and she hides out in darkened conference rooms. We have discovered her sound asleep a number of times in random conference rooms on our floor of the building. It's weird. The Nurse comes in at least once every other night to look in on Eat Monster and Squirmy takes up the duty the rest of the time. I hope they are documenting all this junk on her and getting ready to fire her or something. Eat Monster needs to go. The sooner the better.
The rest of the crew on both our lines are up to the usual tricks. Screw Murderer destroys hardware all night long and the horrid squeaking of metal on metal echoes throughout the building. Meth periodically shouts insults at Stupid Guy and throws stuff at him while they brawl. It's like watching and listening to a real live Punch and Judy. Super Shopper runs her dingbat mouth with no pause about which minimum wage retail worker she terrorized at Target earlier in the day and all the other middle aged nitwit housewives chime in their advice and opinions. They have no idea how stupid they sound. Musclehead verbally beats up on J1 and Deadwood with every opportunity they give him. Supertech keeps his mouth shut and his hands busy fixing dead boxes. Occassionally Mister Mo will drop by to yap with him for a few minutes. The only other employee besides myself and Supertech who really gives Bill and Dave's company their money's worth is Wingnut Dan. That guy is one hell of a hard worker. It's impressive. He listens to tunes on his headphones all night and works an honest eight hours. More people should follow his example over on the Precision line.
J1 has started his disappearing acts again. He will arrive at work and then we won't hear from him or see him in here for days at a time. Squirmy isn't wise to it and none of us want to get involved. I guess for the forseeable future he will continue to get paid for doing his job while most of the time never being present and accounted for. It seems it doesn't matter whether he is here or not, we get the same amount of work out of him regardless- zero.
They moved two people to Graveyard for the Precision Group's test area. One of them is an old man with grey hair that Supertech has dubbed The Child Molester. Supertech has been calling the old guy Child Molester because he's one of those ugly Americans that travels to places in Asia where he can pay to have sex with teenage or underage children. I haven't heard him tell stories about his overseas exploits, but Supertech assures me Child Molester thinks it's cool to talk about his sex acts with these kids. None of us want to hear it and I personally think it's really fucking foul. The only thing I've observed about this guy so far is he spends most of the early part of Graveyard writing love e-mails to teenage girls in Thailand instead of troubleshooting broken instruments. What a loser. The other person they brought onto Graveyard is a woman in her late twenties to early thirties, and I can tell by looking at her eyes that she isn't playing with a full deck of cards. Sometimes I think you can tell alot about a person by how their eyes move and the way they look. If the person in question frequently has a vacant, open gaze, or if they are locked into a hypnotized wide stare for minutes at a time you're probably dealing with some sort of dormant metal problems. Or some kind of drug abuse. I can't put my finger on it, but I have this gut feeling something is seriously broken with that lady.
Working here is like getting a ticket to the city zoo. I come here every day and I get to see the animals for free. Sometimes it's like the big top at the circus. I have a front row seat to watch the clown act. Seems like we have an endless supply of clowns these days.
The rest of the crew on both our lines are up to the usual tricks. Screw Murderer destroys hardware all night long and the horrid squeaking of metal on metal echoes throughout the building. Meth periodically shouts insults at Stupid Guy and throws stuff at him while they brawl. It's like watching and listening to a real live Punch and Judy. Super Shopper runs her dingbat mouth with no pause about which minimum wage retail worker she terrorized at Target earlier in the day and all the other middle aged nitwit housewives chime in their advice and opinions. They have no idea how stupid they sound. Musclehead verbally beats up on J1 and Deadwood with every opportunity they give him. Supertech keeps his mouth shut and his hands busy fixing dead boxes. Occassionally Mister Mo will drop by to yap with him for a few minutes. The only other employee besides myself and Supertech who really gives Bill and Dave's company their money's worth is Wingnut Dan. That guy is one hell of a hard worker. It's impressive. He listens to tunes on his headphones all night and works an honest eight hours. More people should follow his example over on the Precision line.
J1 has started his disappearing acts again. He will arrive at work and then we won't hear from him or see him in here for days at a time. Squirmy isn't wise to it and none of us want to get involved. I guess for the forseeable future he will continue to get paid for doing his job while most of the time never being present and accounted for. It seems it doesn't matter whether he is here or not, we get the same amount of work out of him regardless- zero.
They moved two people to Graveyard for the Precision Group's test area. One of them is an old man with grey hair that Supertech has dubbed The Child Molester. Supertech has been calling the old guy Child Molester because he's one of those ugly Americans that travels to places in Asia where he can pay to have sex with teenage or underage children. I haven't heard him tell stories about his overseas exploits, but Supertech assures me Child Molester thinks it's cool to talk about his sex acts with these kids. None of us want to hear it and I personally think it's really fucking foul. The only thing I've observed about this guy so far is he spends most of the early part of Graveyard writing love e-mails to teenage girls in Thailand instead of troubleshooting broken instruments. What a loser. The other person they brought onto Graveyard is a woman in her late twenties to early thirties, and I can tell by looking at her eyes that she isn't playing with a full deck of cards. Sometimes I think you can tell alot about a person by how their eyes move and the way they look. If the person in question frequently has a vacant, open gaze, or if they are locked into a hypnotized wide stare for minutes at a time you're probably dealing with some sort of dormant metal problems. Or some kind of drug abuse. I can't put my finger on it, but I have this gut feeling something is seriously broken with that lady.
Working here is like getting a ticket to the city zoo. I come here every day and I get to see the animals for free. Sometimes it's like the big top at the circus. I have a front row seat to watch the clown act. Seems like we have an endless supply of clowns these days.
posted by factory_peasant at 6:54 PM
4 Comments:
This must be where the eat monster got dumped into my lap. I guess squirmy figured she could not do too much damage to the precision instruments. He set her up to work in pretest. A fairly simple testing job where you hook up cables to the instrument, run tests, and occasionally make an adjustment.
It was amazing watching her try to connect a power sensor with a "N" type connector to a SMB connector. Often she would start with the proper alignment and then all of a sudden crank the power sensor over to a 45°angle and break the connector on the instrument. Normally this meant replacing a $1k microcircuit.
After three days of this where we probably spent 20k replacing her damaged parts I finally convinced squirmy that she couldnt do the job. Whatever happened to her next, I dont know. She is most likely burning her fingers off in the fryers at McD's.
there's no question about it, they really screwed the pooch when they hired her.
btw talked with Darci last night. i told her about your trip down here end of the month and she said she would really like to hang out with you and shoot the shit. so i'm thinkin' when we do the beer thing we should have her along. we'll figure it out soon...
i luv gassy broads.
can i have her phone # ??????!!!!!!
only a rectal thermometer could love a gassy broad.
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