No evenings, no girls, and still I get a helping of DiceGimp? Sheesh
I'm going to call the new guy "Palooka". Mostly because he reminds me of Sly in the Rocky movies, mostly the first one.
He tells me he's digging the site, that it's exactly what he wants. Nothing untoward really happens, and it's quiet. I hope that doesn't mean he finds it an ideal place to conduct his sleep research. :P
My mom had a hell of a week, last week. Listen to this:
A long-time friend, possibly forty-five years of a friend, died of cancer. My mom's sister, who was diagnosed a few months ago with inoperable brain cancer, was moved into the hospice where she'll spend whatever time remains to her. The day after she did that, my mom got a phone call saying that said aunt had fallen and broken her hip, and wasn't expected to live through the night.
Twenty minutes or so after that phone call, another relative who had sort of slipped out of sight six years ago or so got the general message put out about the above-mentioned aunt, and made contact with the family again. He called my mom, asked about the aunt (not an aunt to him, just to me), and then informed my mom that he has AIDS. From what she told me, this relative is on the AZT cocktail, but I could be wrong.
The following day, my folks went up to visit the hurt aunt. Yes, she made it through the night, and the following one too. She didn't see another, though.
In the hospice, they saw the only woman I was ever engaged to be married to. She's since married and has two kids. That's fair, since it was over ten years ago that we were together. ;)
She was there with her family because her dad was in the terminal stages of his cancer, and she didn't expect him to be around for more than a few days.
And finally, on a buddy's blog, I read that a friend of his' brother and partner had been struck by a drunk driver while they were cycling. The brother suffered a broken back and neck, and possibly there is some evidence of brain damage. A further blog entry from about an hour ago says that the surgery to repair his neck was successful, and that the broken back was such that there is minor risk of spinal cord damage.
Not that I would wish that on anybody, but my buddy and I share at least one friend with brothers in Vancouver. I hope this isn't one of them.
Okay, bad news aside now.
I left a door undeadbolted (but still locked) when I left the site on Friday, to see if the weekend graveyard guy would catch it (he still doesn't have a nickname, but there's just no stories to tell about him!). And he did! I'm so glad.
When I walked in to work on Monday, there were five messages waiting for me at my desk. And the eyes and ears of my client had a funny story to tell me. It seems that at 0700 that morning he went out to the lobby to get the newspapers, and he saw DiceGimp sitting at his little table, head lolled back on the chair, snoring.
Guess what the other five messages were about? Yup, same thing.
It's a bit of a problem for me, or so it seems. Can you guess why?
If it was just something that people told me as I passed them on my rounds, we could laugh about it and say "Man, those other guards suck!" or whatever.
But if several people were independantly concerned enough about it to leave me messages, I sort of feel I have to respond. But what to do?
I mean, I'm not just one of the guards anymore. The client is watching (metaphorically) to see how I handle this new position. I've as much as been told by them that the future of my company on the site depends on what happens now. And like I said, one of the eyes and ears of the client was one of the people that told me about DiceGimp sleeping in broad daylight in the lobby of my building when there are literally hundreds of people walking around. So a response seems warranted.
I thought about it for some time, and finally (just to gauge his reaction) I asked Buffalo Kisser about it. I told him the story, and said "What would you do if you were me?"
If you haven't got the gist before, Buffalo Kisser distrusts thinking and emphasis on the mind. He prefers simple physical things, and "enlightenment". Don't ask me to explain, when I do I just want to bonk my head with a slab of hardwood.
He said "Man, you think all the time. You think too much. Forget about thinking, forget about consequences, just make a decision and do it!"
Gee thanks.
He also said "If Barney were here, this would have been solved already. He would have just ignored it and that would be the end of it."
Fucker.
Rimmy: "Yeah, but Barney isn't here, and it's because of the way he did things that he's not! Plus, DiceGimp has been slurring and ranting against me for weeks now to everybody, yourself included. I know this, because you all tell me so. It would sure be easy to make the connection that if I do anything that negatively affects him, that I must be doing it 'for revenge'."
Buffalo Kisser: "So what? You're thinking again. I know you have much hate for him, and that you will make a decision to hurt him as much as possible. So do it!"
Rimmy: "Whoa whoa whoa! I'm not ranting about him (anywhere except on this blog, of course), and he's the one who's upset with me! About the parking ticket, about The Romanian's monitor, et cetera blah blah blah."
Buffalo Kisser: "Well, I've never heard you say that you like him or that he's a good guy or anything."
Rimmy: "Because I don't, and I don't think he is."
Buffalo Kisser: "Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!"
Rimmy: "But that's not the same as having a hate on for him. What, are you good friends and buddies with Evil Property Manager (his client)?"
Buffalo Kisser: "No man, that guy is stupid."
Rimmy: "So you hate him, eh?"
Buffalo Kisser: "No, I'm just not his buddy."
Rimmy: "See what I mean?"
He didn't.
Anyway, after that conversation he called up DiceGimp, who denied sleeping in the lobby (six independant reports be damned) and that he didn't care about the consequences, let me do what I want.
Buffalo Kisser then told me that DiceGimp was probably going to talk to me when he got to work about this.
I asked him "Why? Didn't you say he told you that he wasn't sleeping, and didn't care about the consequences and that I can do whatever I want about it?"
He had no answer to that.
When Palooka came to work, I asked him about the job, and then I asked him where he was at 0700 this morning. He was a bit vague, trying to pinpoint the exact spot it seemed. So I asked him about DiceGimp sleeping, and he said "Oh yeah, I did see that! I was going to go out and wake him up, but my girlfriend called me to say good morning so I stayed in reception. I told my girlfriend about this dude sleeping, and she said to leave him alone (she also works for our company, as a supervisor on a different site) as it wasn't my problem. So I left him."
Oh yeah, everybody is wrong and DiceGimp wasn't sleeping.
I mentioned to Palooka that anything I did was going to look like some sort of punishment to DiceGimp for talking all the shit about me. And Palooka said the strangest thing.
"No, DiceGimp says that he always sang your praises, that he always told people you were a good guy, but that when you found out you were going to be an S/S you changed and became a real jerk."
Which is bullshit. I'm always a real jerk. Further, if you'll remember back to Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven DiceGimp was already upset with me and Buffalo Kisser dragged him into my office to have him tell me about it, on the same night that I found out Barney was leaving and I was going to be in charge!
Ah, it was so good hearing that. It means that I don't really give a rat's ass about anything that comes out of this bugger's mouth if and when the mousetrap snaps down on his neck.
I've sent off an email to the client's rep with a copy sent to my security manager. Basically I'm saying that I got a number of complaints/notes about this, I looked into it and found it was true (more people telling me about it, which I detailed) that this was the guard assigned to protect the outside of our building, among other things, and that he had no connection to my security company.
I can't directly complain about him to anybody. However, my client can complain to their landlord (Evil Property Manager) if they want to.
When I left the site, I'd left the same door unlocked for Palooka that I left unlocked for the weekend graveyard guy. I told Palooka to note any doors he found unlocked.
And he called me at 0200 to say he'd found one, and it was the right one!
So points to him for finding it, but minus a few for feeling he needs to call me in the middle of the night to tell me about it. Just lock the damn door!
Eat it, Trebek!
edit added at 1236: after receiving two automated bits of chumpage on this last post, I've turned on word verification for anybody wanting to leave a comment. All this means is that you'll have to successfully type in the word that appears on your screen when you comment. If you can't handle that, then your comment probably isn't worth reading anyway. I'm talking to you, Mr. Gibberish Spammer!
He tells me he's digging the site, that it's exactly what he wants. Nothing untoward really happens, and it's quiet. I hope that doesn't mean he finds it an ideal place to conduct his sleep research. :P
My mom had a hell of a week, last week. Listen to this:
A long-time friend, possibly forty-five years of a friend, died of cancer. My mom's sister, who was diagnosed a few months ago with inoperable brain cancer, was moved into the hospice where she'll spend whatever time remains to her. The day after she did that, my mom got a phone call saying that said aunt had fallen and broken her hip, and wasn't expected to live through the night.
Twenty minutes or so after that phone call, another relative who had sort of slipped out of sight six years ago or so got the general message put out about the above-mentioned aunt, and made contact with the family again. He called my mom, asked about the aunt (not an aunt to him, just to me), and then informed my mom that he has AIDS. From what she told me, this relative is on the AZT cocktail, but I could be wrong.
The following day, my folks went up to visit the hurt aunt. Yes, she made it through the night, and the following one too. She didn't see another, though.
In the hospice, they saw the only woman I was ever engaged to be married to. She's since married and has two kids. That's fair, since it was over ten years ago that we were together. ;)
She was there with her family because her dad was in the terminal stages of his cancer, and she didn't expect him to be around for more than a few days.
And finally, on a buddy's blog, I read that a friend of his' brother and partner had been struck by a drunk driver while they were cycling. The brother suffered a broken back and neck, and possibly there is some evidence of brain damage. A further blog entry from about an hour ago says that the surgery to repair his neck was successful, and that the broken back was such that there is minor risk of spinal cord damage.
Not that I would wish that on anybody, but my buddy and I share at least one friend with brothers in Vancouver. I hope this isn't one of them.
Okay, bad news aside now.
I left a door undeadbolted (but still locked) when I left the site on Friday, to see if the weekend graveyard guy would catch it (he still doesn't have a nickname, but there's just no stories to tell about him!). And he did! I'm so glad.
When I walked in to work on Monday, there were five messages waiting for me at my desk. And the eyes and ears of my client had a funny story to tell me. It seems that at 0700 that morning he went out to the lobby to get the newspapers, and he saw DiceGimp sitting at his little table, head lolled back on the chair, snoring.
Guess what the other five messages were about? Yup, same thing.
It's a bit of a problem for me, or so it seems. Can you guess why?
If it was just something that people told me as I passed them on my rounds, we could laugh about it and say "Man, those other guards suck!" or whatever.
But if several people were independantly concerned enough about it to leave me messages, I sort of feel I have to respond. But what to do?
I mean, I'm not just one of the guards anymore. The client is watching (metaphorically) to see how I handle this new position. I've as much as been told by them that the future of my company on the site depends on what happens now. And like I said, one of the eyes and ears of the client was one of the people that told me about DiceGimp sleeping in broad daylight in the lobby of my building when there are literally hundreds of people walking around. So a response seems warranted.
I thought about it for some time, and finally (just to gauge his reaction) I asked Buffalo Kisser about it. I told him the story, and said "What would you do if you were me?"
If you haven't got the gist before, Buffalo Kisser distrusts thinking and emphasis on the mind. He prefers simple physical things, and "enlightenment". Don't ask me to explain, when I do I just want to bonk my head with a slab of hardwood.
He said "Man, you think all the time. You think too much. Forget about thinking, forget about consequences, just make a decision and do it!"
Gee thanks.
He also said "If Barney were here, this would have been solved already. He would have just ignored it and that would be the end of it."
Fucker.
Rimmy: "Yeah, but Barney isn't here, and it's because of the way he did things that he's not! Plus, DiceGimp has been slurring and ranting against me for weeks now to everybody, yourself included. I know this, because you all tell me so. It would sure be easy to make the connection that if I do anything that negatively affects him, that I must be doing it 'for revenge'."
Buffalo Kisser: "So what? You're thinking again. I know you have much hate for him, and that you will make a decision to hurt him as much as possible. So do it!"
Rimmy: "Whoa whoa whoa! I'm not ranting about him (anywhere except on this blog, of course), and he's the one who's upset with me! About the parking ticket, about The Romanian's monitor, et cetera blah blah blah."
Buffalo Kisser: "Well, I've never heard you say that you like him or that he's a good guy or anything."
Rimmy: "Because I don't, and I don't think he is."
Buffalo Kisser: "Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!"
Rimmy: "But that's not the same as having a hate on for him. What, are you good friends and buddies with Evil Property Manager (his client)?"
Buffalo Kisser: "No man, that guy is stupid."
Rimmy: "So you hate him, eh?"
Buffalo Kisser: "No, I'm just not his buddy."
Rimmy: "See what I mean?"
He didn't.
Anyway, after that conversation he called up DiceGimp, who denied sleeping in the lobby (six independant reports be damned) and that he didn't care about the consequences, let me do what I want.
Buffalo Kisser then told me that DiceGimp was probably going to talk to me when he got to work about this.
I asked him "Why? Didn't you say he told you that he wasn't sleeping, and didn't care about the consequences and that I can do whatever I want about it?"
He had no answer to that.
When Palooka came to work, I asked him about the job, and then I asked him where he was at 0700 this morning. He was a bit vague, trying to pinpoint the exact spot it seemed. So I asked him about DiceGimp sleeping, and he said "Oh yeah, I did see that! I was going to go out and wake him up, but my girlfriend called me to say good morning so I stayed in reception. I told my girlfriend about this dude sleeping, and she said to leave him alone (she also works for our company, as a supervisor on a different site) as it wasn't my problem. So I left him."
Oh yeah, everybody is wrong and DiceGimp wasn't sleeping.
I mentioned to Palooka that anything I did was going to look like some sort of punishment to DiceGimp for talking all the shit about me. And Palooka said the strangest thing.
"No, DiceGimp says that he always sang your praises, that he always told people you were a good guy, but that when you found out you were going to be an S/S you changed and became a real jerk."
Which is bullshit. I'm always a real jerk. Further, if you'll remember back to Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven DiceGimp was already upset with me and Buffalo Kisser dragged him into my office to have him tell me about it, on the same night that I found out Barney was leaving and I was going to be in charge!
Ah, it was so good hearing that. It means that I don't really give a rat's ass about anything that comes out of this bugger's mouth if and when the mousetrap snaps down on his neck.
I've sent off an email to the client's rep with a copy sent to my security manager. Basically I'm saying that I got a number of complaints/notes about this, I looked into it and found it was true (more people telling me about it, which I detailed) that this was the guard assigned to protect the outside of our building, among other things, and that he had no connection to my security company.
I can't directly complain about him to anybody. However, my client can complain to their landlord (Evil Property Manager) if they want to.
When I left the site, I'd left the same door unlocked for Palooka that I left unlocked for the weekend graveyard guy. I told Palooka to note any doors he found unlocked.
And he called me at 0200 to say he'd found one, and it was the right one!
So points to him for finding it, but minus a few for feeling he needs to call me in the middle of the night to tell me about it. Just lock the damn door!
Eat it, Trebek!
edit added at 1236: after receiving two automated bits of chumpage on this last post, I've turned on word verification for anybody wanting to leave a comment. All this means is that you'll have to successfully type in the word that appears on your screen when you comment. If you can't handle that, then your comment probably isn't worth reading anyway. I'm talking to you, Mr. Gibberish Spammer!
posted by Rimmy at 11:11
4 Comments:
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I recycle my old stuff here Elictronics maybe you should too
Does anyone else see the fucking Irony here?
Jesus Ghasping Christ on a Whole Wheat Cracker!
Pretty straight-forward, eh? Don't worry too much about it looking like "retribution" - he's going to say that no matter when you do it. If he doesn't want retribution he shouldn't be slacking off.
You could *try* talking to him privately about it first, pointing out that he puts you in a tough spot where you are expected to take action, but you don't really want to get him in trouble. Sometimes people react to that and then they're easier to deal with. (From the stories, I doubt it, but it's a fairly easy thing to try.) At least then if it keeps happening you can point out you gave him a chance!
I sent you an ICQ with the details about your wondering on my blog comments.
-Tursi
Fictional - glad we got that straightened out. And lately I'm partial to saying "Jesus, Homer, and Jethro Christ!". I have no idea why.
Tursi - it IS pretty straightforward that if so many people felt the need to leave me messages about it (as opposed to just telling me whenever they happened to see me), then they felt it was important. In return, I have to treat it seriously.
No, he's not one of my employees, but it *does* make all the mooks in the yellow jackets look bad, as few people differentiate between the two companies.
The retribution part is sort of important, because alienating the other security company is bad for any of us who might need their help while we're working, and also because my own employees might decide that I'm a vindictive tyrant when, in this case at least, I'm not. That's also not good.
I didn't talk to him before doing what I did, so let him spread his anger. I'll take the lumps. :P
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