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How Work Works

John Cougar Lunchbucket
Apr 10 2009 11:33 AM

Following is an actual email exchange at my office, with names removed and/or changed as necessary. I rebuilt the order so as to read it beginning to end.

Cast of characters
JCL: Me
Karen: My Supervisor
Bobby: Office handyman guy
Dan: Bobby's boss
Mary: Building facilities manager/Dan's boss

***
Dan,

There is a ceiling light that has been burned out over JCL's desk
for several months. We have called Bobby to fix it a few times, and each
time he has explained that it is a problem with the ballast, and we need an electrician to fix it. I assumed he would call an electrician, but no
electrician ever seems to come.

JCL would like to move to another desk if we cannot get the light fixed.
Anything we can do?

Thanks,
Karen

**
Hi Mary:
Could you please call the electrician.
Thanks a lot
Dan

**

Bobby, please look into this issue.
Thanks, Mary

metirish
Apr 10 2009 11:37 AM

This is the kind of stuff that inspired Ricky Gervais.

metsguyinmichigan
Apr 10 2009 11:41 AM

Damn, you don't work at a post office, do you?

Nymr83
Apr 10 2009 11:44 AM

theres nothing like Bureaucracy and a "pass the buck" mentality to get things done. all thats left is for Bobby to email Karen with something along the lines of "what the problem again?"

John Cougar Lunchbucket
Apr 10 2009 11:49 AM

This is all true.

By the way, the desk I can move to is available since the guy was whacked yesterday in the 2nd round of staff cuts I have survived so far this year.

sharpie
Apr 10 2009 11:52 AM

Move to the whacked-guy's desk. Seems an easier solution than getting an electrician in.

batmagadanleadoff
Apr 10 2009 11:54 AM

="sharpie":l4qvp851]Move to the whacked-guy's desk. Seems an easier solution than getting an electrician in.[/quote:l4qvp851]

No way. That desk is jinxed.

metirish
Apr 10 2009 12:00 PM

I think it's in Bobby's best interest to fix the problem and if he learns a new trick in the process then better for him too , show them how versatile and eager you are Bobby...

A Boy Named Seo
Apr 10 2009 12:14 PM

Hey, Bobby's no submarine captain. If he says there's a problem with the ballast, well damn it, get someone in who's qualified to repair the ballast.

With all the cuts going around, last thing he wants to do is draw attention to himself by making a small problem bigger trying to fix something he's not equipped to fix.

Dan, being middle management, needs to be all over this shit.

metirish
Apr 10 2009 12:18 PM

How many people in Lunchbuckets office does it take to change a light bulb?

MFS62
Apr 10 2009 12:19 PM
Edited 2 time(s), most recently on Apr 10 2009 02:32 PM

So, until its fixed, we still won't know the answer to the question, "How many JCL office-mates does it take to change a light bulb?"
Later

EDIT: Obviously, from the post times, it looks like Irish and I think alike (sorta')

A Boy Named Seo
Apr 10 2009 12:19 PM

Stop me if you heard this one guys...

Kong76
Apr 10 2009 12:27 PM

Show up on Monday with two of these:

That oughta get some chuckles.

Edgy DC
Apr 11 2009 06:42 AM

Not for nothing, but that same bureaucracy that can't change a lightbulb may be slowing the whacking pace.

Hopefully the cuts are over for your office. But Mary's the real deadwood here.

G-Fafif
Apr 11 2009 03:56 PM

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metirish
Apr 18 2009 02:07 PM

Ever get the light fixed?

John Cougar Lunchbucket
Apr 18 2009 02:11 PM

Yes! Bobby showed up with an electrician on Thursday.

Benjamin Grimm
Apr 18 2009 02:35 PM

="Edgy DC":2gcg20x1] But Mary's the real deadwood here.[/quote:2gcg20x1]

I agree. Mary's too lazy to read the e-mail. (Sometimes I get phone calls from people who clearly haven't read an e-mail I sent, and instead of trying to re-explain it, I just read the e-mail aloud to them.)

What should have (and probably did) happen is Bobby then calls Mary and says that he needs some authorization to call the electrician.

Bobby's the hero. Mary's the boob.

TheOldMole
Apr 18 2009 07:10 PM

What Work Is
By Philip Levine

We stand in the rain in a long line
waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work.
You know what work is--if you're
old enough to read this you know what
work is, although you may not do it.
Forget you. This is about waiting,
shifting from one foot to another.
Feeling the light rain falling like mist
into your hair, blurring your vision
until you think you see your own brother
ahead of you, maybe ten places.
You rub your glasses with your fingers,
and of course it's someone else's brother,
narrower across the shoulders than
yours but with the same sad slouch, the grin
that does not hide the stubbornness,
the sad refusal to give in to
rain, to the hours wasted waiting,
to the knowledge that somewhere ahead
a man is waiting who will say, "No,
we're not hiring today," for any
reason he wants. You love your brother,
now suddenly you can hardly stand
the love flooding you for your brother,
who's not beside you or behind or
ahead because he's home trying to
sleep off a miserable night shift
at Cadillac so he can get up
before noon to study his German.
Works eight hours a night so he can sing
Wagner, the opera you hate most,
the worst music ever invented.
How long has it been since you told him
you loved him, held his wide shoulders,
opened your eyes wide and said those words,
and maybe kissed his cheek? You've never
done something so simple, so obvious,
not because you're too young or too dumb,
not because you're jealous or even mean
or incapable of crying in
the presence of another man, no,
just because you don't know what work is.