Wait For It… a blog by Andy Ross

New Crutches

Posted on January 27, 2011

Seriously, no one at work is going to ask me about my crutches?

I mean, that's fine, I guess. It's not like you guys have to keep up on every little change in my appearance--new jacket, haircut, stuff like that. Who wants pushy, personal observations at work. But, crutches? That's kind of a big, obvious thing that you might wanna point out.

I guess I kinda expected it to be the first thing anybody asked me about today.

I'll admit I had a little mini fantasy where I got off the elevator and everyone gasped and rushed to see what happened. Then, maybe I'd tell the---I'm gonna go ahead and say amazingly life-altering---story of how I ended up on crutches, and everyone would tsk tsk and coo over me. Maybe not everyone, but certainly in the fantasy, Alexis from New Media cooed.

But, now it's 3 o'clock, and we've had three meetings, one of which was about loading paper into the new printer. And, not a word about these crutches. I think, "What happened to your legs?" should come before, "Legal size goes in the lowest tray." That doesn't me a narcissist, does it? I'll answer. No, it doesn't.

I've gotten used to no one asking about each other's weekends. It was weird at first that nobody said "bless you" when somebody sneezed, but I came to accept that. But, crutches and a limp that weren't there yesterday? Let's at least try to pretend that we're still real people in this office.

Then, there's the tuxedo. Nobody noticed that I'm wearing a torn tuxedo and have a black eye? Not one person? What the fuck, people? What ... the fuck?

Excuse me, can you move that recycle bin so that I can hobble away on these new, apparently invisible crutches? ... Hello? Can you move that? ... The bin next to you? Never mind, fuck it.

I gotta find a new job.


Employee Review

Posted on December 31, 2010

Hey, Ted, thanks for coming in. Have a seat. I thought maybe we could wrap up the winter quarter with an informal employee review. Just to see how things are going in the office and if there’s anything we could do better. Here, I’ve printed up a worksheet.

How are things progressing for you? Are you satisfied with your position here? Because, I have to tell you, I’ve noticed a few changes in your demeanor lately. Subtle stuff. Like, I’ve noticed you’ve started pointing to things with your middle finger.

I understand some people naturally use their middle finger to point out numbers in Excel or graphs on an overhead. But, I clearly remember you using your index finger before. So, that makes it seem like you’re giving everybody the finger whenever you point. Like I said, these are subtle changes.

Also, in the lobby, you don’t push the revolving door anymore. You stand and let the other people in the revolving door push it for you. Now, nothing in the employee handbook that says you have to push when going through a revolving door, but it makes me wonder what else you’re not doing.

Do you know what I’m saying, Ted? I don’t expect everyone to go above and beyond. I understand that this is just a day job for many of you guys. But, here’s a little example: Every evening, I like to take my wastepaper bin and walk it over to that trash closet. It makes Hector’s job a little easier, and it’s really not a lot of extra work for me.

In your cubical, though, I’ve noticed the wastepaper bin is always overflowing at night with human feces. See the difference there?

I understand you’re busy cutting out pictures of your coworkers and X-ing out the eyes, but it sure would be helpful if you could empty out your trash. Especially if you’re going to be shitting in it.

I mean, you clearly have time to post angry, threatening notes in the break room. And, leaving all those dead mice under Mrs. Gregory’s keyboard must take up a lot of your day. Maybe instead you could put that energy into sharing the workload.

I hope you understand I’m not trying to be the harsh taskmaster here. I’m just trying to keep the cogs moving, you know? Ted? Are you listening to me? You seem distracted.

Ted, do you have anything to add at this point? No? You’re just gonna sit there clutching that letter opener and mouthing curse words? Well, that’s your prerogative.

Alright, well … good talk. Um, I hope to see you at the office bowling party after the break, and I wish you a very happy New Year, Ted. Keep up the good ... nevermind. You can go now.