Employee Review
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.
While You Were Out
Boss,
I couldn’t find any “While You Were Out” memo pads, so I’m writing this on paper towel. Sorry it’s so wet.
Someone named Henry called at around 5:30 last Tuesday. I forgot about it until just now. Anyway, he said it was an emergency, and he left his cell number. I’m almost positive it started with a six.
He said it had something to do with an important contract. Or, maybe contact? And, there was something about a judge or judging or judgment. No wait, it was definitely “Federal Judge Something-or-other.” Pretty definitely sure. Maybe.
Um, also Henry said you should avoid going to your apartment. There might be FDI agents there? I don’t know what an FDI agent is. Is it like an FBI agent? That would make more sense. Henry seemed really nervous about that part. He wanted you to call him right away. Last Tuesday.
His name might have been Benny, instead. I couldn’t really hear him, because I had the music going pretty loud in the office.
Anyway, you should call him back if you have his number. I can probably think of another digit or two if you really need it.
Let me know when you get this. I haven’t seen you since last week. Are you out sick or something? Also, the newspaper keeps calling for you. Something about an indictment? Or indictments? Indicting?
Oh yeah, and I’ll be out tomorrow for a dentist’s appointment.
—Andy
Stop Looking at Me!
Hey, weirdo, what are you looking at? I’m serious. What the fuck are you looking at? Stop staring at me. You think just because I’m wearing this chicken costume, I want assholes like you to stare at me? Just take the flyer and move on already.
Yeah, I get it, I’m hilarious--a grown man dressed up as a chicken. Ha ha ha, so funny. Ooh, look at my big chicken feet. Grow up, dude! Everybody has to put food on the table, even if that means doing this shit. Now, get a life and leave me the fuck alone.
Stop looking at me. Seriously, I am about this close to putting your teeth down the back of your throat. You think this is funny? You think I want to hand out these Popeye’s flyers? Stop smiling, asshole. It’s not funny.
I don’t care if you are three years old. Take your fucking teddy bear and get the fuck out of here. Stop giggling. There’s nothing funny about this. No! No, stop hugging me. I’m not Donald Duck. Stop it!
Lady, come over here and get your kid. Lady, please get your toddler to stop hugging me. And, here, this is a this coupon for a medium drink with purchase any three piece dinner.
.
[Author's note: In full disclosure, the ending of this was inspired by the true story of an acquaintance.]