Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Commentary on setting up my new corporate life.

My desk is all set up.

I’ve got my pens, hilighters and pencils and a receptacle to keep them in. A pair of scissors. An extra pair of scissors for emergency, I guess. 47 post-it note pads. A calculator. Etc.

My "cube" is a little too close for comfort to strangers, but I’ll get to know them soon. Randy, who is diagonal from me already introduced himself. He seems cool. Let’s see, what else? Standard Dell Computer, check. Peg board with nine hundred rainbow colored push-pins, check. Wastebasket that fits exactly one piece of paper, check. And one black phone. I don't even know my extension or anything.

Shit, my new boss told me to record a voicemail greeting. Is there a more uncomfortable situation than recording a voicemail message within earshot of thirty-seven strangers? But, I’ll give it a try. As softly and as quickly as I can, I lay down my first track: Hi, you’ve reached Sam. I’m either on another line or away from my desk. Please leave a message and I’ll return your call as soon as possible. Thanks. Then I give it a listen and realize that the reason I have problems getting laid are directly realted to the fact that when I am nervous, I have the phone voice of a small retarded girl. I’ve got to do this again, but with more authority. This has to be perfect, because there is no way in hell that I’m recording one of these every day like some assholes.

So I erase and re-record. This time very loud and very obnoxious. But somewhere in the middle I get tripped up, stutter, and spit out a very long umm and pause for a good three minutes. Then, catching my train of thought, rush through it as if I can make up the time I've lost during the long pause. When I play it back I wonder if I have multiple personality disorder. Or perhaps am imitating the Commandant from Police Academy (the first one) during the slideshow presentation. (On this first SLIDE, we.....seeee.....) Although it would be funny to leave this message as is, it's not very professional. Although, I would definitely get some slack in the sympathy department from any clients that hear this message. I might even earn respect for being such a brave and courageously “special” person working at a “real” job getting paid “money.”

Erase and re-record. The third one isn’t too bad, but I have come too far. It needs to be perfect. People are starting to take notice.

Erase and re-record. In the middle of the fourth recording, I swear: "Shit!" I hang up the phone. I forget where I am, who I am, and how I got there. I’m sweating. I need a break. I go to the office kitchen and pound six three-ounce paper cups filled with lukewarm filtered water.


Erase and re-record. I decide at that point to have some fun with this task, and annoy all my new work neighbors in the process. I head back and try again, while standing at my cube so everyone can not only hear me, but also see me and I'm looking at them: Hi, you’ve reached Sam; I will be splitting time today between my desk and the bathroom. Long story short, I am trying to shit out a cocaine filled balloon I smuggled in from Colombia. Note to self: when borrowing some nutmeg from my Colombian neighbor, be sure to set up the appropriate guideline as to what the ‘small favors in return’ are. Leave a message after the beep.

Erase. Re-record. Hi, you've reached Sam; I will be away from my desk all day as I am editing Anne Frank’s diary. Man, that girl didn’t know a preposition from a dangling participle. For such a courageous person, she was such a grammatical coward.

Erase. Re-record. Hi, you've reached Sam; Somehow, you got past my receptionist and got to my voicemail. Touché. The joke is on you though, because unless this is Jenna Jameson or Hugh-fucking-Hefner I’m not calling you back. And if this is you again Dad, I’m warning you, stop calling me or I will make the threats a reality and call Joey Buttafuco!!

Erase. Re-record. Hi, you have reached Jeffrey Dahmer; I won’t be at this company very long, because this just isn’t working out; mostly because they are too cheap to have real spring water and they don't trust my mind to do basic arithmetic and all of my co-workers ARE FUCKING ASSCLOWNS, but also because I caught crabs from my chair. Leave me a message. Thanks!

Now that's just right!

I slam down the phone.

I start the "slow clap."

No one joins in.


Steve-O said...

Well, at this rate you should be back in Orlando in no time. Do you want me to call LYNX and let 'em know you're coming? Did you skip a few chapters in the book "How to make friends and influence people"?
I like the Joey Butafuco reference, I feel he's long overdue for a comeback in the world of "just fucked up and became famous" celebrity.
Be sure and use those push-pins to spell out "FUCK OFF" to add that lived in look to your cubicle.

Anonymous said...

Have you stopped showering yet? That would be funny, but you don't want to be "the stinky guy."

Try arranging little green army men around your cubicle and give them orders. If someone walks up and starts talking to you, say things to the army men like "cover me" or "are you getting all this?" Use that extra pair of scissors to cut off soldiers legs and arms. Craft little war medals out of rubber bands and buttons. Brag to your co-workers about how you have the best battalion in the office. You'll be promoted in no time at all (is that you'll be promoted no time at all?)