This And That.

My God, You Weren't Kidding.

My wife went into the store yesterday when I was at home. When she came back, she told me she saw the waffle-boot toolbelt flannel shirt logistics manager I had been telling her about. My wife now knows I'm serious when I ranted about the uh....person. I told my wife that the woman rides a motor cycle, as well. "I believe you now," My wife said. "I wouldn't want to fight HER in a dim nightclub....yikes."

The Times, They Are A-changin'

"JR" on the hardlines staff is an enterprising young man (translation: he's a complete horndog.) Yesterday I saw him scribbling something on a piece of paper in the middle of the aisle. "What's that?" I asked. "Did you score another phone number?"

"Are you kidding? Phone numbers are passe. They are SOOO last century. Everyone uses MySpace and LiveJournal now. She gave me the address to her profile page."

I see. I stand corrected.

It Bears Repeating.

Last week I had to go in at 4 a.m. to help set ad signs for the Mother's Day shopping week. Naturally, almost the entire makeup and H.B.A. department was on sale. I had millions of signs to do, and progress was slow. The store manager came up, watched me for a minute, and said "is that all you've gotten done so far?"

"Yes ma'am, it is."

"Then I think you had better hustle..." she walked off, went to the coffee bar, and sat down.

I was furious.

If you're in such a hurry, madam, perhaps you'd like to get up and lend a hand? Perhaps you'd like do demonstrate how I can go faster? Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that you would chip a nail and get your hands dirty. It's a good thing you get paid an executive salary just to watch us and tell us to hurry up. I would never have figured that out on my own. Silly me.

I said it before, and I say it again. If I ever end up as a corporate executive, and I see one of my store managers doing the "stand and point" method, I swear on a stack of ad circulars that I will go put tools in their hands, swiftly kick their ass, and tell them to get to work or go home forever.

I will make no allowances for gender, either. If they can't hack the physical labor of moving stock around on the floor, I will kick them and their make-up filled purses out the door. Pronto. I'm an equal opportunity ass-kicker.

And that, my friends, is an "inconvenient truth."

Food for Thought.

Failing organizations are usually over-managed and under-led.

Been There, Done That.

How many "big box" retail managers does it take to replace a light bulb?

One, but first he has to watch the training video three times.

*****************************

Monkey Business Management Secret #13

WAFFLE STOMPERS.

My buddy Fred and I have worked retail for a number of years. We work for competing companies, but we often get together to "talk shop." This week we discussed a management trend that some companies tend to lean towards frequently, in spite of their public denials to the contrary.

Fred told me that over at his company, they would bend over backwards to promote minorities into management, only for the reasons that they need the tax credits and they need to stay out of legal hot water. When it comes to women in management, Fred tells me that his employer has a tendency to promote mostly those women who are very curt, abrupt, abrasive, patronizing, arrogant, and very "man-ish" in their dress and their behavior.

Fred thinks that his company understands a reality that many people don't want to admit. Regular women are too nice, compassionate, and caring to make it in the viscious jungle of upper management. To kill two birds with one stone, companies like Fred's will eagerly promote flannel shirt wearing, tool-belt toting, waffle boot wearing, motorcycle riding lesbians to upper management, because they get things done, when other women are doing their makeup in the office or planning their shopping.

Fred told me something his store manager shared with him once.

"If you want to please the customer, charm their shorts off, and make a sale, hire a woman. If you actually want to get things done, hire a man. If you want to kick ass, take names, and leave them cowering in a corner, hire a lesbian."

When Fred told me that, I couldn't help but think about a person in management at my store who fits that very profile. The funny thing is, everyone in the store absolutely despises her. What she doesn't realize is that while she may possibly get up to Regional management, her abrasiveness will automatically disqualify her for the CEO chair. She'll never come within miles of it.

I believe that's what Al Gore calls "An Inconvenient Truth."

Doomed To Repeat Them.

You know the old saying about people who don't learn from mistakes of the past.

Everywhere I've worked in retail, it's always the same. Corporate slashes payroll budgets in the first three fourths of the year, to cover for the final quarter. In doing so, however, they create conditions that drive their business away. Let me give retail executives a word of advice, if they want to keep their customers:

1. DO NOT cut payroll on the WEEKENDS.
2. DO NOT cut payroll on the WEEKENDS.
3. DO NOT CUT PAYROLL ON THE WEEKENDS!!

Weekends are the busiest time for general retailing, yet for reasons that just mystify me, companies do their worst budget cutting for that time frame. What happens is the remaining staff cannot adequately meet the needs of customers and handle the additional work load. Customers go away unhappy, and business is lost.

Of course, executives blame the clerks, saying they should work harder faster, but evidently they forgot their college economics classes. There's a concept called "Point of Diminishing Returns," meaning too much or too little of something is not necessarily a good thing. Cut payroll far enough and it becomes a PHYSICAL impossibility to complete the workload, no matter how hard the clerks try. Punishing them for corporate stupidity just diminishes morale, and then all the decent clerks who truly care for the customers leave for better employers.

What I would give to be able to get this through executive's heads! It's so simple, how can they not see it?

I Am Locutus, of Borg.

Digging around in the supply closet where they keep the PDT scanners and the walkies, I found the ear clip head-sets that go with them. So, I kyped one, attached it to my walkie, put the ear piece in, and adjusted the mini mike boom. I was good to go.

I wore the headset all during my shifts the last two days. Of course, I looked absolutely ridiculous. It didn't matter, because I was having fun with it. Customers looked at me oddly when I answered walkie calls as if I was talking to someone who wasn't there.

I'd go around pointing my PDT scanner at co-workers, fingering my head set, and pronouncing "I am Locutus, of Borg! Resistance is futile!" Sadly, only the Star Trek fans on the crew knew what character I was talking about, everyone else just thought I was being crazy as usual.

I Would Never Lie To You, Kid.

This evening I was zoning in the health care section, in front of the pharmacy.

Our pharmacy has one of those public blood pressure machines sitting next to it. This evening a kid climbed onto it, stuck his arm into the cuff, and pushed the button. The cuff started to puff up, grabbing onto the kid's arm. When he couldn't get his arm free, the kid started to freak out and panic.

His mother and grandmother turned back around, noticed what happened, and pushed the release button. They scolded him for messing with the machine, trying as hard as they could to keep from laughing. They told him the machine was only for grownups, and if he kept playing with it he wouldn't be able to get away from it.

I couldn't resist.

I pitched in and said "that's right. The machine will hold you prisoner and you'll be kept here in the store long after everyone's gone and the lights are out. That's what we do to kids who play with the machine..." His eyes got big as saucers. His momma covered her chuckles. "See? You heard the man. Now get away from that before we leave you behind...."

Some poor kid is going to have nightmares, I'm sure.

Monkey Business Management Secret #12

Stop, Thief!

The day before yesterday we had a "crew" trying to work our store over. The A.P. guys had been watching them come in and out. They knew we were watching them, yet the kept trying all day long to jack us. That evening I was zoning domestics, and my buddy "J" from A.P. tells me that one of them is in the store again, so I tail her. As a regular floor associate I'm not allowed to do that, according to company rules, but I do it anyway because I hate professional thieves with a passion. Punks just piss me off.

She figures out I'm on her tail and tries to shake me, eventually walking back up to me to ask my opinion about the stereo she was holding, which we both knew she was trying to walk out with. It's one of the older dodges in the book: the "get friendly with the guy who's tailing you" routine. She hands me the stereo and asks me to ring her up at the camera counter, which we were close to, but she had to go get a couple more items.

I wait for a couple of minutes and when I knew she had ditched me I checked for her further down the isles. She had left the building. This same scenario happened earlier in the day with one of her confederates, whom we had seen in a car with her. We got them both on camera. They managed to get some small items, but not the big stuff.

They gave me a "good job" card for the recovery (which was about $250) It's posted in the breakroom.

I Wish We Could Have One of Those At My Work.

Finnish artists Tellervo Kalleinen and Oliver Kochta-Kalleinen collected the pet peeves and angst-ridden pleas of people in Helsinki and then composed this choral work around the list of complaints. Music composed by Esko Grundström.

Monkey Business Management Secret #11

"Sincerity is the key. Once you can fake that, you've got it made."

-- George Burns.

News Travels Fast.

It seems that my company isn't the only one that's been dealing with an elevated sphinctre pucker factor lately.

I heard rumors that our competition, "big blue," is now requiring their people to wear khaki slacks and polo shirts in their corporate colors (like we do.) It's so funny -- years ago "big blue" was held up as the business to match. Now, just about everything my company does that's progressive, "big blue" turns around and copies.

What's the matter "smilie guys?" Can't come up with any more good ideas, so you have to borrow from everyone else? Or is it because your corporate attorneys advised you to minimize the possibility of a floor associate wearing anything that Rev. Al Sharpton can legally roast you over?

I bet your founder is rolling in his grave about now.

sphinctre pucker factor -- ELEVATED.

Lately out of no-where, management has become hysterically ANAL about anything we say to each other in the building and on the sales floor. They've announced that any kind of slang, metaphors, or lingo are forbidden at all times, not just on the walkies.

Yesterday they made the softlines staff go through every T-shirt in stock and remove any of them that had any kind of suggestive remark or advertisement for alchohol. (Interestingly, they didn't take out all the ones with skulls and dragons -- I would have thought those would be offensive to the Christians. I suspect that they don't care about Christians, just the left-wing liberals, like the kind who demanded the firing of Don Imus.)

The H.R. director mentioned to me in passing yesterday that when she spoke some pop lingo to her co-worker, one of the store team leaders raked her over the coals. All she said was "peace out, homegrrl, I'm going to hop in my crib." (For all you humorless, hysterically anal, hopelessly-out-of-touch "Type A" managers and executives out there, the literal translation runs as follows: "Fare thee well, my good friend and lady in waiting, the day is far spent and eventide approacheth nigh, wherefore I shall hie thee hence toward mine dwelling, for 'tis the end of my labors this evening.")

THIS COMPANY LOVES TO BRAG ABOUT A "FAST, FUN, AND FRIENDLY" WORK ENVIRONMENT, yet lately I see that it is all just mere hypocrisy -- pretty words we speak to potential employees but never really mean. The hypocrisy makes me want to puke. I hate, with a purple passion, all humorless type-A people. They should all just jump off a cliff and leave the rest of us to live in peace.

I Believe In Magic.

It just HAS to be magic. I don't know how else to explain it.

I worked the electronics counter today. Every time I'm back there, empty carts just accumulate all around the department. No matter how many times I drag them all up to the front of the store, they reappear all over the place when I'm back in the department.

There must be a space-warp wormhole at the front of the store that these carts fall into, and they teleport back to the electronics area. It's either that or they mate and give birth to new carts when I turn my back on them.

OK, WISE-GUY.

I was "zoning" in the sporting goods department towards the end of the evening. (No, I wasn't spacing out....that's corporate double-speak for straightening the shelves.) I had just spent some time working through the soccer section when my buddy "J" from Asset Protection walks up to me and says "Hey! How many times have I told you to stop playing with your balls in public?"

IT NEVER FAILS.

This cute little co-ed thing picks out an ornate dresser set and has me and a co-worker bring it up front on a freight flat so she could check out. At the checklane my co-worker follows his hunch and asks the girl per chance what type of car she has. She tells us that she has a little Honda.

('DOH!)

My co-worker tells her that it's not going to fit. She hops onto her cell phone. "Daddy? What do I do?" He tells her that he'll have to come back for it in the morning with his truck.

I wondered to myself "at what point when you were driving your little bitty scooter over here did you decide to buy heavy furniture?" My coworker gave me a sideways glance that almost had me rolling on the floor. Maybe this girl should keep up with her schooling, and then she'll get a brain to think with someday.

IX-NAY ON THE INGO-LAY.

Once again they got onto us for using radio lingo. It makes me laugh. This company brags about being progressive. If radio terms facilitate effective communication amongst the staff, what harm is there? I thought communication and getting the job done were company values.
Evidently, they aren't. It has to have been those whiny, moaning, babies in softlines. They complain about EVERYTHING. If it were my store, I'd tell those ninnies over there to shut the heck up and get back to work.

Monkey Business Office Lingo #8

BRAND:

1) noun. Name given to a product by its manufacturer.
2) noun, as euphemism. Abstract concept involving the entire identity of a person, place, thing, or organization as it is perceived by the public as a whole. An ideogram or over-all Gestalt linked to said person, place, thing, or group in such a way as to cause anchored feelings and associations.
3) noun, as corporate double-speak. Literally meaning "our way of doing things." When an employee proposes an idea that a manager doesn't like or can't steal credit for, said manager will often state to the effect the idea is not part of the "company brand." [translation: your idea sucks, and I can't claim credit for it, so we won't adopt it.]

Case in point: Often our work involves the use of walkie radios. We'll use radio-style phrases such as:

• "ten-four, I copy."
• "Johnny, what's your ten-twenty (location?)"
• "Rick, can you give me the four-one-one (information) on the lunch schedule?"
• "Breaker one nine, it's the Silver Desperado, I'm Westbound and down, peggin' the double nickle, catch ya on the flip-side, over. (Attention please, this is ME and I'm headed home because I'm done for the day, taking it safe as I drive the speed limit, and I'll see you next time we work together.)

During a group meeting on the sales floor management told us there had been complaints by humorless idiots on the staff and we were no longer allowed to use radio terms. The official reason she gave was that those words were not part of "our company brand."

Stupid Is, As Stupid Does.

I have a buddy who also works in the retail industry. Let's call him Fred.

Fred works for a nationally known "big box" retail chain. He often tells me about things that go on over at his company. Some of the things he describes simply amaze me.

Fred tells me that the customer service managers at his store allow cash to build up in the registers all day long, never removing any of it until the drawers are closed down at night. Having worked for retail companies who would threaten their employees with public execution if they ever let their drawers go over a few hundred dollars, I found this to be inconceivable.

"I'm serious as a heart attack," Fred tells me. "Just last night, they had me checking on a drawer in the express lane that had a two, maybe three inch thick stack of twenties in it." (Having worked at a bank and handled big money before, I estimated the dollar amount he described to be at least $6,000 if not more.)

"That's not counting the huge stack of hundreds, fifties, and checks that were in it, too." Fred continued. "Just think of all the names, addresses, and account numbers listed on those checks...and the electronics department! Don't even get me started about THAT register..."

"What did you do?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"I told the customer service manager, like I've done a zillion times before, and she just blew me off, saying that's just the way they do things. It really made me angry -- it's neither right nor fair to expect a low paid cashier to be responsible for that much -- it also puts his life in danger. If word gets out on the streets that the express lane has that much money on a given evening, that's just begging a robber to come in and point a gun at the poor cashier." Fred was ticked off beyond measure at the thought.

I recalled the register layout over at Fred's store. The express lane registers are wide open -- with nothing to protect the drawer from a "Till-tap," or grab-and-run with the cash. I also thought about the possibility that if one of Fred's co-workers were disgruntled, they could hop onto the Internet and post on a website or blog for all the world to see that a major retailer in the Oklahoma City area lets their cash accumulate in the drawers. 'DOH!

(Well, by golly shucks -- I would never advocate that anybody give out such information. It could happen, though, if management ignored the employee's complaints long enough.)

"I'm afraid of what could happen, really I am," Fred told me.

A Word Of Advice For All You Executives.

This is a special post for all those business executives out there who really think that they're something special, and that everyone else around them is a turkey.

Let me tell you a story.

A certain Roman named Gaius Germanicus was born to an Imperial household, and was destined to take the reins of leadership from his father one day. When Gaius was very young he accompanied his father on military campaigns. Soldiers nicknamed him "little-boots." In his adolescence his father died suddenly; many people suspected he had been poisoned by a rival, Tiberius.

In the years that followed, Gaius was shuttled from one relative's household to another, until he ended up as a ward of none other than Tiberius. Over time Tiberius arranged for the banishment or destruction of any of Gaius' relatives who had any proximity to the throne. Tiberius took great delight in humiliating Gaius at every chance he could. For years, Gaius hid his true feelings and thoughts. He served Tiberius in his household with every amount of loyalty he could muster, if only to stay alive.

One fateful day, with the help of a friend in the Praetorian Guard, Gaius managed to have Tiberius killed. Since the people of Rome hated Tiberius, they welcomed the event, and The Senate granted Gaius the right to inherit Tiberius' estate. Not long afterward, Rome declared young Gaius their emperor.

What finally happened to the cute little soldier boy who became Emperor?

You see, the Latin word for "little boots" is the word "CALIGULA." After his enthronement, Emperor Caligula went on a rampage of vengeance and reprisal against all who had harmed his family -- no one was spared until the very last drop of blood was shed. After that, Caligula ruled Rome with an iron fist and showed no mercy to anyone who dared to question his rule. He went down in history as one of the most ruthless and bloodthirsty despots ever to rule the Roman Empire.

So you see, dear executives, let me remind you of something Bill Gates once said: "Be nice to the nerds. One day you'll end up answering to one."

Be grateful you're surrounded by turkeys. If you were surrounded by anyone better, they'd have your head, and you'd be singing the "Enron Blues."

Have Your Cake And Eat It, Too.

A doctor, a lawyer and a manager were discussing the relative merits of having a wife or a mistress.

The lawyer says: "For sure a mistress is better. If you have a wife and want a divorce, it causes all sorts of legal problems."

The doctor says: "It's better to have a wife because the sense of security lowers your stress and is good for your health."

The manager says: "You're both wrong. It's best to have both so that when the wife thinks you're with the mistress and the mistress thinks you're with your wife -- you can go to the office and actually get some work done."

Monkey Business Office Lingo #6 and #7.

Reverse Logistics. noun. 1. Term used by "big box" retailers who have their own supply chains referring to the process of sending product back to the distributor for credit. (If you're talking about returns, just say RETURNS, dammit! Do you call your expenses, reverse income? Should we start referring to complaints as reverse compliments? Is forgetting something reverse learning? Where does it end?)

Smart -- adjective. 1. PREFIX attached to nouns so as to suggest the objects have something to do with technology, usually done by managers desperate to sound "hip." (Smart labels, smart shelves, smart cards, smart tags, smart carts, smart software... Adding an RFID circuit to a label does not make it smart. Nor does adding a computer to a piece of equipment. )

(Can a smart label call me a dumb-ass if I slap it on the wrong carton? If it could, it would then be a smart label, as well as a smart-ass label. Can a computer make a decision that it was not specifically programmed to make? Not yet. Until that time comes, the only things that can be considered smart (having intelligence) are people, and, if you ask me, not all that many people qualify either.)

[quoted from Inventory Ops Business Humor.]

"Is It In, Yet?"

They had me work in electronics the last couple of days. Everybody and their uncle came to me with eager, hope-filled puppy dog eyes asking if we had received the new DVD release of "Charlotte's Web."

"No, no, no, NO, NOOOOOO! A thousand times NO!"

"Why not?! It was released today, wasn't it?"

"The release date is when the discs leave the factory. It is NOT the day we put it on the shelves!"

[Paint me gold and call me Oscar! Jeeeez people! Get a freakin' life! It will get here when it gets here! Go home and smoke some of the weed that you upper-middle class snots never admit you grow in your basements! Better yet, play a board game with your spouses and children, instead of wasting away your eyes and brains in front of your over-priced plasma screens...]

Invasion of the Zombie Hypno Shoppers

Marketing research has shown that when people go shopping they enter a kind of altered state the resembles a slight hypnotic trance. Retail companies attempt to take advantage of this effect by constructing spacious vestibules or foyers placed between the front door and the rest of the store. The unconscious implication is that you leave the unhappy rational world behind as you go through a archtypal "transport tunnel" and emerge into another bright, happier, and more fulfilling world of shopping.

The fun part comes in when you get a chance to watch people as they pass through the vestibule and enter the store. Many times you can see the change in their state occur almost instantly as you observe the changes of muscle tone in their faces and bodies . Their eyes go from a hurried, alert look to a more dazed, zombi-fied look.

What's really fun is watching them bump into each other and then half mumble their apologies, while they stand there trying to figure out where they want to go next. As I bring up empty carts to stack, I'll offer them to customers as they come in. Some of them are so deep into their state that they never hear me talking to them from a couple of feet away. I have to literally walk right into them almost to get them to see I'm offering them an empty basket.

Yesterday I saw a good case. I had pushed a stack of empty carts up to the front of the store, when I saw a lady coming in with a cart. I stopped where I was and waited, so she could go around me. Instead, she just kept pushing forward, staring right at me almost, and them smashed right in my stack of carts. She quickly snapped out of her reverie and apologized.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir. I didn't see you standing there." There was clear space all around me at least twelve feet in all directions. She was looking straight at me, yet she couldn't see me.

Every time a customer tells me that they always buy too much whenever they come into the store, I always joke with them, telling them it's all a part of our special customer shopping hypnosis program. They always get a good laugh out of that. (Of course, little do they know.....)

A Contradiction In Terms.

In an earlier post I mentioned how "Coporate Management" was an oxymoron just like "Military Intelligence." Check this out:

I certain retail company I'm familiar with goes to a lot of trouble to achieve effective "asset protection." They make sure the high-dollar items are locked up, etc. At the same time, a certain corporate management oxy-MORON decides to install a display of $200 digital cameras on an endcap next week in the electronics dept. The items sit directly on the shelf, with no lock, no tags, nothing. They decide to put in another display filled with $50 PS-2 video games, also unlocked. As of tonight, or so I've been told, the games are all gone and the system shows only three were actually bought.

I've said it before, I'll say it again. Authority and intelligence don't always go together.

I really, really wish I knew just exactly what I have to do to get myself an executive position where I can make hair-brained decisions like those and still keep my job. No floor-level manager in their right mind would risk high dollar items on an open display like that. It's hard for me to imagine someone actually being that incredibly stupid. Obviously they had to have received bribes or kickbacks from the manufacturer.

So, right now I'm visualizing myself in a big leather chair, an air conditioned office with a T.V. and a fireplace, kicking back and letting sales reps plop large envelopes of cash down onto my desk as I sign their order books. Then I leave work at lunch on Thursday and take the rest of the week off sailing in The Hamptons.

Man, oh man -- that would be the life.

The Principle Of The Thing.

TOM: Alright -- just consider this Mike -- that's all, just consider it. Now ROTH and the Rosato's are on the run -- are they worth it?.... I mean, you've won -- do you have to wipe everyone out?

MICHAEL: I don't feel I have to wipe everyone out -- just my enemies -- that's all. You gonna come along with me in these things I have to do, or what? Because if not, you can take your...family, and your mistress, and move 'em all to Las Vegas...

[if you're thinking, WTF? Don't worry: it's an inside thing.]

There's A Hole In My Bucket, Dear Liza, Dear Liza.

When I was a kid, one of my favorite things on Sesame Street was the "hole in my bucket" sketch. [song lyrics, HERE.]

Earlier this week, a team leader ordered me to remove a pallet's worth of 12-pack water from an end-cap display, and replace it with another pallet's worth of a different brand of 12-pack water. Those things are freakin' heavy, and trust me -- after you've moved a couple of them around, you're huffin' and puffin'.

This evening I noticed that yesterday someone had taken off all the water I had laboriously put there, and replaced it with a pallet load of yet ANOTHER brand of water. I was pretty mad. Why the hell did they make me move the water, when they were going to change it the next day?

Sometimes I feel like all I am doing at work is trying to carry water in a bucket with a hole in it. So many times the decisions of management just absolutely mystify me. They're always complaining about the lack of payroll budget, yet they're willing to have me waste time building a display that's going to be replaced the next day.

Sorry folks, that's not retailing -- that's sheer bullshit.

You know how they say Military Intelligence is a contradiction in terms. I believe the same could be said for "corporate management."

Monkey Business Office Lingo #4 and #5

OHNOSECOND:

• Close cousin of the "nanosecond," referring to the brief instant in time when you quickly realize that you have really, really, REALLY screwed up.

CART 'TARD:

• (Please forgive the irreverence, I heard a teenage cashier say this the other day when I was shopping at "big blue." I just can't resist...) The name given to the "mentally challenged" employees at major retailers who retrieve carts from the parking lot.
  

It Hurts Us All.

One of the team-leaders in softlines shot her yap off at the A.P. guy once to often yesterday. She told him that she's not paid to do loss-prevention, and that it was his job. He was pretty ticked-off, and I don't blame him. Some of the largest theft losses in the store occur in softlines, and yet she has the nerve to say loss-prevention isn't her job.

I was ticked off too. I work my buns off to pay my bills with honesty and integrity, and this chyk lets people carry the store away. Money she lets us loose is money that could be given to me in a raise, to help me support my family.

I heard through the grapevine that she was going to get a "coaching" soon from corporate management. Man, I sure hope so.

I told the A.P. guy that any time he needed my help, to just give me a holler and I'll come running. I hate thieves. Even if I wasn't an employee, I'd still try to stop them if I saw them -- it's just the principle of the thing.

For Service, Please Press #1

Isn't it interesting how some companies brag about their customer service, yet they hide behind confusing and impenetrable mazes in their automated phone systems?

Here's how to get a live human on the phone when you need one. Go to http://gethuman.com/
and consult their database. In many cases, you can reach a human by punching certain series of keys in succession.

"They" thought these codes could be kept secret, but the dedicated consumer advocates at http://gethuman.com are determined to help you gain back your power!

so THAT'S what they mean....

Here's a little more official MONKEY BUSINESS OFFICE LINGO:

Here are some phrases often exchanged between employers and employees during job interviews, and what they really mean:

Employer Lingo:

"Competitive Salary"
We remain competitive by paying less than our competitors.

"Join Our Fast-Paced Team"
We have no time to train you.

"Casual Work Atmosphere"
We don't pay enough to expect that you'll dress up.

"Must be Deadline Oriented"
You'll be six months behind schedule on your first day.

"Some Overtime Required"
Some time each night and some time each weekend.

"Duties Will Vary"
Anyone in the office can boss you around.

"Must Have an Eye For Detail"
We have no quality control.

"Career-Minded"
Female applicants must be childless and remain that way.

"Apply in Person"
If you're old, fat, or ugly, you'll be told the position has been filled.

"No Phone Calls Please"
We've filled the job. Our call for resumes is just a legal formality.

"Seeking Candidates With a Wide Variety of Experience"
You'll need it to replace the three people who just left.

"Problem-Solving Skills a Must"
You're walking into a company in perpetual chaos.

"Requires Team Leadership Skills"
You'll have the responsibilities of a manager, without the pay or respect.

"Good Communication Skills"
Management communicates, you listen, figure out what they want, and do it.

---

Employee's Lingo:

"I'm extremely adept at all manner of office organization"
I've used Microsoft Office a few times.

"I'm honest, hardworking and dependable"
I pilfer office supplies.

"My pertinent work experience includes..."
Please don't ask me about all the OTHER loser jobs I've had.

"I take pride in my work"
I blame others for my mistakes.

"I'm personable"
I give lots of unsolicited personal advice to coworkers.

"I'm extremely professional"
I carry a cheap Day-Timer and my ties have no stains on them.

"I am adaptable"
I've changed jobs a lot.

"I am on the go"
I'm never at my desk.

"I'm highly motivated to succeed"
The minute I find a better job, I'm outta there.

I Don't Know Lady, I Just Work Here.

In a previous post I discussed the "invisibility cloak."

In an interesting corollary to that theory, if you want to play a prank on the competition, just go into their store wearing clothes that even only half-way matches their company colors. People will walk up to you and ask if you work there.

Many times I've gone into a retail establishment with my Sunday clothes on after church, and people think I'm the manager. They come up to me to complain or ask me to back-order a product. I'm too much of a nice guy to take advantage of that one, but jeez -- just think of the possibilities!

All that you really need to pull it off is a nice haircut, a polo shirt, a pair of tan slacks, and penny-loafers or wingtips. If you really want to go all out, just order a shiny brass name-tag from an office supply store (it has to be brass color, most retail executives have metal name tags while the cashier peons wear only plastic.) Just put your name on it, and the title "district manager" or "regional v.p." You don't even need a business name on it. Just wear that get up, start straightening shelves, and the fun will start.

The reason I mention all this: tonight when the store closed and we all clocked out, I drove over to the competition who is open 24 hrs. so I could purchase some things I didn't have time to get at my own store earlier. I was still wearing my company's colors. I thought that if I took my name-tag off I would be safe. Nothing doing. People STILL came up to me and asked if I work there. D'oh!

"No ma'am, actually I'm a scout from the competitor down the street conducting some secret 'marketing intelligence gathering.' "

Here's your sign. [link]

Super Mega D'oh!

We've all had them.

They're the moments in our lives where we realize in a split second we have really, really, REALLY screwed up. As in, "Ohhh..............crap...."

Take the case of a (mercifully for him) anonymous computer technician in Alaska. While conducting routine maintenance on a disk drive at the Alaska Department of Revenue, he wiped out the records of some 600,000 people who were due to receive dividends from the State Permanent Fund.

A mistake like that is worthy of the Dilbert "In-duh-vidual" award, and writer Scott Adams would definitely be proud.

Get the low-down in this article at Yahoo! News. [link]

Monkey Business Management Secret #10

THE INVISIBILITY CLOAK

The other day when I finished a cart of freight I tried to make my way to the time-clock and punch out for lunch. It was then that I was kidnapped. A customer flagged me down and requested help finding a product.

Ok, fair enough. I helped the customer find what he needed, but when I saw the oddball glint in his eyes I knew I was in trouble. I had been snared by a "attention-vampire," those annoying people so desperate for human contact that they hold you hostage for hours on end bending your ear prattling on about nothing.

The guy went on and on about why he needed the product, his life story, how it had to do with his work, how much he loved his job, asking zillions of questions, always interrupting my answers, and refusing to see my obvious desperation to take a long overdue and desperately needed lunch.

It is for situations like those that my co-workers came up with the technique of the "invisibility cloak." When they head out to lunch or to go home, they throw a coat or a shirt on and thouroughly cover their store uniform. It's amazing just how invisible you become once the company colors are obscured -- people who won't give you a minute's peace all of a sudden don't even know you're there. The difference is hysterical.

If you don't have a shirt or coat, often you can reduce the risk of being snared by staring down at the floor as you walk. Eye contact increases your profile in the customer's minds, lack of it helps you blend into the background.

Of course, nobody would ever admit to using such tactics, but more than once I have watched a manager or two slip out a back way to avoid a troublesome employee or irritating customer.

Monkey Business Office Lingo #3

TURBO-SERVICE:

noun: The art of getting better customer service when all hope is lost about ever seeing a result. A set of techniques designed to bypass "gate-keepers" and gain access to decision makers. common usage: "the squeeky wheel gets the grease."

Read this article [link] and you'll get the lowdown on the art of going turbo.

Worshipping the Gigabyte Altar.

[<== typical vidiot seen here]

I worked the camera boat again this week. People kept bugging me about when we were going to get a certain video game that was scheduled to be released that week.

A thousand times NO! We haven't got it in yet! They haven't told us when -- we get it when we get it!!

Jeez, morons! Get a life! Go home and give some attention to your families or get some exercise, instead of wasting your life on an overpriced piece of plastic!

Monkey Business Office Lingo #2

STAND-N-POINT:

1. Management style often used by store managers of "big-box" retailers.
2. Maintaining the pretense that one is too important to actually perform manual labor.

This particular method is usually performed in the following way: stand there, observe lower level managers and their teams doing their work, and remain absolutely still while doing so. Occasionally point to something that needs to be done or corrected, and bark out an order demanding quick action. This can also be done while walking around the store pretending to look like you are "inspecting" the work to make sure it's all on track. At 5:30pm, bark out more orders to lower managers, and then go home as quickly as you can, never to return until 8:00 the next day.

Here's a promise that I've made to myself: If I ever end up in corporate managment and I see a unit manager engaging in the "stand-n-point," I will personally go over, kick their ass, put tools in their hand, and tell them to get to work.

When I interview managerial candidates, I will check their hands for callouses. If their hands are too soft I'll throw them out of my office. I will check their resumes for any history of manual labor occuring before their degrees. If they're full of college and no hard work, I will spit on the paper and throw it back in the candidate's faces. I will tell my executives that if they want to be on the fast track for V.P., they will have to spend a year cleaning bathrooms in the stores. If they balk, I'll kick their ass and then throw them out.

Monkey Business Management Secret #9

What do you do when your company is under investigation for fraud, bribery, and tax evasion? What if you want to exploit cheap foreign labor? The answer is simple --

MOVE YOUR COMPANY H.Q. OFF-SHORE!

This little baby does wonders for your bottom line! It's next to impossible for the IRS to audit your books if your office is in Dubai, like Halliburton Co. will soon have theirs. In Dubai, you won't have to pay corporate taxes and their are few labor laws to protect workers. You can use derivatives and other Enron-style tricks to hide profits and debts from Federal regulators. You can even blame all your mistakes on your American "subsidiary," and claim that you had no knowledge over in Dubai of any wrong-doing, just like Halliburton does.

When I launch my own multi-national greed factory corporation to take over the world, this method is precisely what I'm going to use.

Monkey Business Management Secret #8

THERE'S TOO MUCH BLOOD IN MY CAFFEINE CIRCULATION.

Top Signs You Drink Too Much Coffee:

• You have races with the Energizer bunny.
• You short out motion detectors.
• You have a conniption over spilled milk.
• You don’t even wait for the water to boil anymore.
• You stick your cup under the trap instead of using the caraffe.
• Your nervous twitch registers on the Richter scale.
• You think being called a “drip” is a compliment.
• You don’t tan, you roast.
• Your three favorite things in life are…coffee before and coffee after.
• Your lover uses soft lights, romantic music, and a glass of iced coffee to get you in the mood.
• You can’t even remember your second cup.
• You help your dog chase its tail.
• You soak your dentures in coffee overnight.
• Your mug is insured by Lloyds of London.
• You introduce your spouse as your coffeemate.
• You think CPR stands for “Coffee Provides Resuscitation.”
• Your first-aid kit contains two pints of coffee with an I.V. hookup.
• Your mug says "got creamer?" on the side.
• All the hardware in your garage is stored in coffee cans.
• You have to wait for the cursor to catch up with your keystrokes.
• People hold the phone away from their ears when you call them.
  
• Your reflection in the mirror changes with each cup.
• Each new cupful dissolves more metal off of your spoon.
• The bottom of your cup is so dark, things dissappear into it.
• The rescue team thought you were in a coma until somebody spilt coffee onto your lips.
• Juan Valdez sends you birthday cards and Christmas cards.
• The price of coffee bean contracts moves drastically on the commodities markets each time you go out to buy some.
• Starbucks wants you to be their advertising mascot.

Not Born Yesterday.

Earlier this week they had me working the electronics counter. There was a group of three preteen young men wandering around the electronics and toys. They kept signaling each other when I walked by. I asked them if their parents were with them.

The "not-Caucasian" one sassed me back: "no, am I supposed to?"

Ok, sucka. Time for you to play with the big dogs. I signaled the guys in A.P. My guys zeroed in on them with the cameras. Caught them red-handed, on tape, in black and white.

Busted. Cops came, and the rest is history. Turns out the "NOT-caucasian" was the leader of the little group. I am not surprised.

Word to the wise: if you work in retail, be nice to the guys with the badges. Take care of them, and they'll take care of you.

Monkey Business Office Lingo #1

RESOURCE HOG: [noun]

1. originating in computer culture referring to an application that is so bloated with code that it grabs up an inordinate share of processor speed and page-swap memory just to run, often causing the user's PC to seize and crash, requiring a re-boot.

2. referring to visually oriented managers who care only about their own needs when they expropriate to their projects and departments large amounts of time, budget, and personnel, often at the expense of other managers, and often causing other essential company processes to halt.

The other day "super-dyke" logistics manager assigned me and a coworker to work out a pallet of freight for the new lawn and garden plan-o-gram. She didn't like the progress we were making, so she got on the walkie and demanded that all available associates from the other departments come over and help work the freight.

She enjoyed pointing and directing (and standing) while a large group of lingerie and grocery associates lugged boxes of lawn chairs and flower pots to the shelves. Naturally, no other work in the store got done during that time.

Quite a few of the associates were unhappy. They had their own work to do, on a day that was busy. I even noticed another department head grumble loudly, as well.

I quietly smiled in derision.

Where Credit Is Due.

After all of the griping I've done lately about work situations, I need to be sure to emphasize that in spite of their faults, I really DO like working with this company at this particular store. They have their quirks to be sure, but over-all this is one of the better places I've worked over the years, and I appreciate being with some really good people.

Granted you'll find the usual aspects of corporate silliness you'll find elsewhere, the one thing that has really impressed me with this company is that they really do make a serious, concerted effort to foster a cooperative, harmonious, successful work environment for the team-members. They have succeeded with that culture here at this company far, far, far better than other places I've worked. I deeply and sincerely appreciate that.

For example: a couple of days ago I clocked in and the Leader On Duty gave me some quick instructions to complete before I got started with my regular tasks. One of the H.R. people was nearby, and she felt that the L.O.D. had been a little too curt with me, so she quickly told him to say "please." It floored me. Never would such considerate thinking have come from people who manage "Little Red" (the South-East based dollar store chain who shall remain nameless, where stogie chomping, hairy knuckled, tattoo ridden neanderthals berate, patronize, and shout at their people.) Here at "Big Red" they actually make the effort to be civilized.

I don't know how long I'll be able to be with them, but when I'm rich and famous, running my own global dominating private equity firm, "Big Red" will be one of my first choices for permanent holdings in common stock.

Time Will "Tell."

I wrote the last post about "Maverick" to set the stage for this one.

This evening I took some time out of my work to assist one of the logistics team members make a bale (ha! take that, Mz. "certification" manager!) throw out the trash, and get caught up on the cardboard pile waiting to be compacted.

Naturally this put me behind on my straightening my zone, but I didn't particularly care because I'm playing a game, as I explained earlier. I got caught up in reasonable time, the Leader On Duty told me we got out on time after close, and all was OK. While I was zoning, one of the guys that people have told me is a total loser came to help me with my zone.

I could tell he did it only because he wanted to chastise me for helping people so much. He told me to mind my own responsibilities. While he tried to mask it as helpful advice, I could tell he was trying to sabotage me -- the logistics person that I had helped is his rival, according to the grapevine.

This guy honestly thought I was that stupid. Of course I know full well never to let charity get in the way of my own work. I learned that straight out of high school. He thought I was too stupid to know that. I thought to myself "I'm way ahead of you there, bub. Eagerness is a game I purposely play, and it paid off. You just revealed to me how much of a looser you are, sucker."

Needless to say, even though I will continue to be cordial and professional to him, I will watch him -- very closely.

All I Need To Know About Politics I Learned At The Movies.

One of my favorite movie scenes comes from the Mel Gibson version of "Maverick."

He explains that when sitting in on an unknown table of people in poker, he plays a patsy and purposely looses for the first half hour or so. While the game progresses he watches for "tells," or unconscious body signals people give based on the hand they have been dealt. Once he is certain he has everybody's "tells" figured out, he uses the information to clean up the competition for the rest of the game.

Whenever I start a new job or new work environment, I go out of my way to be an over-zealous eager-beaver skippy-scout yes-man. I go to great lengths to help other people out with their workloads, obey all the rules, follow orders with exactness, the works. While I may do this to contribute to the company's success, I never really expect any company credit for it -- companies rarely give it when it's earned.

The real reason I play that game is to watch other people's reactions to what I do. People who come to me and tell me to slow down and stop making them look bad are the ones I can automatically peg as losers and punks, who I can expect to cut my throat any minute they feel it suits them. The people who never give me thanks for the help are the ones I know will always look out for themselves, at the expense of others.

Being over-eager also helps me to find out what all the hidden rules are, because the really nice people fill me in on all the hidden rules, office gossip, and potential pitfalls in the workplace landscape. The really nice people will often volunteer to return favors for the help I give them, whereas the crappy people won't spare a minute to give me the time of day. The crappy people will purposely wait until I break a rule in my eagerness, then chew me out for it, walking away afterward with a smug air of superiority. Little do they know that I am reading them like a book, and sharpening my political knives while I do so.

Emperor's New Clothes.

This entry is a post-script to the previous one.

There's a certain manager at "Big Red" where I work. He used to work for "Big Blue." He grew tired of being passed over for promotions and going for long periods of time without a raise or positive performance review, and he grew tired of certain corrupt practices that were business-as-usual. He got tired of the heavy amounts of overtime. Finally, he walked. He had spoken to the people at "Big Red," they made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and he left "Big Blue."

Yesterday it became clear to me just how cushy his new deal was. When I complained to him about a certain arbitrary, non-corporate sanctioned policy enforced by the micro-managing "logistics leader," he chastised me about how necessary the rule was, and how dare I question it. Keep in mind this is what I term an "L.S.D. rule," meaning something that only someone on LSD could come up with and seriously expect others to follow.

Here I was, the only person in the joint with courage enough to point out that the emperor has no clothes on (if you remember the old Danish fairy-tale), and it dawns on me that this guy was totally serious in his support of something completely asinine. I thought to myself "dude, you have been bought....bought like a discount courtesan in a Bangkok red-light district."

Everyone has their price I suppose, but I believe mine is much, much higher than his.

"Ok, um, after you push the down switch...then what?"

Yesterday's post about "information management" was a satire upon people who have a hysterically anal need to control the flow of information and access in a work environment. I made that post to set the stage for today's post.

I found out yesterday, after the fact as is usually the case in most work environments, I had broken a rule. It seems that my efforts to be helpful and be a good team member don't amount to diddley, because I broke a rule I knew nothing about.

I've been in retail since I was fifteen, and I know how to operate most equipment found in any retail establishment large or small. I have operated cardboard balers millions of times, and when they were full I have created and ejected large bales scores of times safely and soundly. Yet when I mentioned to a co-worker that I had made a bale three or four times with the baler (here a "Big Red" where I currently work,) the back room got so silent you could have heard a pin drop.

Sacre Bleu.

"Don't let (super-toolbelt-flannel-shirt-mustache-dyke) hear you say that!" I was promptly informed that to be permitted to operate the baler and make a bale, I was supposed to have passed a "certification." Yes folks, that's right. In order for me to push the "up" button and the "down" button, I have to be "certified." Doing what I had done risked the retributive wrath of "super-dyke." (She's the "logistics" manager I told you about in an earlier post.) I kid you not -- they actually spoke as if she would tear down the building like godzilla, and for all I know she probably could.

I complained about the absolute lunacy of the whole thing to another manager. He treated me as if I were questioning the very existence of God, and almost lost his patience with me. I shook my head. I had just been bitch-slapped by a queen master of the power game, who taught me just how well you can use information, access, and processes to intimidate others and maintain control.

As much as I despise "super dyke logistics manager," I thank her for teaching me a valuable lesson. "My enemy is my teacher," said Sun Tzu in "The Art of War," and he was right.

Dammit, I Did It Again.

It happened. I allowed myself to get irritated and annoyed by the flannel shirt bull-dyke from hell.

Monkey Business Management Secret #7

INFORMATION MANAGEMENT

Here's one of my favorite tools in the power game. This little beauty consists of two parts:

1) Learn everything you can. Over the course of time, learn every little "in and out," of not only your own job, but the jobs of others, as well as all the ropes, tips, in's and out's and tricks of the trade that your workplace can informally be manipulated by. Learn proceedures, processes, tools, methods, etc.

2) Keep your knowledge to yourself. As time goes on and other people move on to other jobs, you can gradually assume the image of the "wise elder of the tribe." Dole out your knowledge in bits and pieces, only as you see fit. You can reward loyalty, groom proteges, play other people's jealousies against another ("how come HE gets to learn how to use the HOOPA-JOOB PROBER, and I don't?") Never reveal everything, keep the best knowledge to yourself, make others bust their keisters off just to earn little pieces of trivial stuff only you know. Make people green and purple with envy just to get to know little stupid stuff that you can make look earth-shatteringly important.

I laugh as I write this, but behind the satire there's quite a bit of truth, based on my personal experience. I've used this little doozy time and again, to marvelous effect.

Monkey Business Management Secret #6

A Study of "Enron-omics"

Feudalism

You have two cows. Your lord and master takes some of the milk.

Capitalism

You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull. Your herd multiplies and the economy grows. You sell them and retire on the income.

Communism

You have two cows. The government takes both and says they belong to the people, then hires you to take care of them and sells you the milk.

Fascism

You have two cows. The government takes them away by train, denies that meat packing ever existed and drafts you into the army. They tell you cows are the enemy and Milk is banned.

Enron Capitalism

You have two cows. You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a Debt/Equity swap with an Associated General Offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows.

The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company.

The Annual Report says the company owns eight cows with an option on one more.

Oops.

The bad news is, in a recent acquisition frenzy we purchased one of our own companies. The good news is, our stock went up.

Monkey Business Management Secret #5

"If you want to get ahead in management, always wear a white shirt and tie, and keep your hair short and trim."

Well, two out of three ain't bad.

"So This Guy Walks Into A Bar And Says...."

So this guy walks into the store this evening, and asks if we have any small kitchen scales. It had to weigh small amounts, in ounces.

The interesting thing is that the guy was "non-caucasian," all decked out in fashion attire related to the type of music he listens to. Judging by the small words and bad grammar he used, he definitely wasn't Julia Child trying to cook at Escoffier's.

After he left I turned to my co-worker and said "bet you can't guess what he's going to use the scale for..." My co-worker didn't catch my drift, so I had to elaborate. I made motions with my fingers and lips as if I was busting a huge spliff at a Bob Marley concert. He finally caught on and burst out laughing.

The Lightbulb Turns On.

The last couple of days a few of the people in the store have really been pissy.

One thing I've noticed -- 95% of the personnel conflicts tend to center around a small handful of people in the store who have type A personalities. Just about every time I hear someone discuss a problem they're having with a person in the store, it involves these few people.

Another thing that I've noticed is that the people I have had the most trouble with throughout my life were people with type A personalities.

When I become supreme ruler of the business world and C.E.O. of my own world-dominating financial conglomerate, I am going to make sure, through personality testing, that no type A person ever gets anywhere near management in my companies, and that my security people watch any type A subordinates very closely.

Lately I really dread going to work -- I like my job, really, but these type A jerks completely ruin it for me. I don't need their crap.

Read the definition of type A personality at Wikipedia.

I Have The Power....

I have a skill that many people in the world would give anything to have.

I can make people fear me.

The problem is, I neither intend to nor desire to. Instead, I try as best I can to be on peaceable terms with as many people as I can. I go out of my way many times to do favors for people, and show them kindness. Yet wherever I go, some kind of aura follows me that flashes like a big neon sign that says "this guy is trouble, stay clear of him and be suspicious of him." I have no idea what I do to deserve that.

Case in point: this evening I worked in soft-lines. The front-end manager came to check on my progress with my zoning, and she helped me finish, which I was grateful for. Then she mentioned that the soft-lines manager didn't want come check up on me because she's afraid of me. She had asked the front-end manager to do it.

Case in point: a manager at a bank I worked at once told me that some of the tellers didn't want to work with me in the evenings after the lobby closed. She said they were afraid of me.

Case in point: my last job, over at "small Southern-owned dollar store chain who shall remain nameless," all I had to do was walk in the door, and the women in the store would all go rushing in to the manager complaining I was in a bad mood and they were afraid to work with me. One little Mexican girl, April, was incessant with her complaints. The assistant manager, Jessica, went out of her way to lie constantly about me. The cashier, a drug-addicted welfare drunk who spends half her time in the mental ward went around and told people at the other branch stores that I was some kind of psycho (Ha! she should talk!) I know all this because much of it I overheard, and also the customers themselves would often warn me that the women in the store definitely were no friends of mine.

What on earth do I do to these people to make them always want to treat me like I'm some sort of bad guy? W.T.F.?! Rationally speaking, I shouldn't let it bother me, but I really, really, hurt because of it.

There is lemonade I can squeeze from this lemon. Buddha once said "my enemy is my best teacher." When the chips are down in crisis situations, I know just exactly who will be the first people to try and stab me in the back or slit my throat. It will be the people who complain they fear me, for no real reason. Past experience has shown me that, time and again. I probably should thank these people for revealing to me up front who they really are, so I don't have to keep guessing. This way, I can keep a good eye on them and steer clear of them at all costs.

In any case, it seems that I have an unintended talent. A talent that many executives would love to have, a talent I can use in the power game of life. People really should be careful with what they wish for. If they try too hard for too long to portray me as a bad guy, I just may give them precisely what they want.

Monkey Business Management Secret #4

Always remember the "Total Work Equation:"

Real Work + Appearance of Work = Total Work

Try to keep your total work at a constant level but do not increase your real work.

Monkey Business Management Secret #3.

When people stare at you in disbelief, repeat what you just said, only louder and slower.

Back And Forth.

I spent all night going back and forth to the check lanes answering calls for back-up cashiers. It really made me angry. I'd get up there and they wouldn't need me or I'd check out maybe one customer. Then no sooner would I get back to my zone they'd call again, before I could even pick up an item to work on it. I couldn't get a damn thing done.

"Oh, we'll help you," they promised. The cashiers who came to help me zone after closing did a half-assed job and the place barely looked like anything was done with it. I was so mad.

None of the other people on the sales floor would answer the calls because they all knew I would. I don't dare ignore the calls because if the floor people don't answer the split second the calls go out, the management yells at us over the walkie. I'm really getting tired of that little game.

That's not effective management.

That's "holler-until-somebody-does-something-to-get-you-off-their-back" motivation, without any care as to what TRULY needs to be done to solve the problem. I despise management like that. Holler like a banshee, rather than research the problem, create solutions, provide leadership, and foster teamwork.

Yes, I Suppose That *Would* Help....

"However beautiful the strategy, you should occasionally look at the results."

-- Winston Churchill

"Monkey Business Management Secrets" No. 2

A crow was sitting on a tree, doing nothing all day. A small rabbit saw the crow and asked him: "Can I also sit like you and do nothing all day long?" The crow answered: "Sure, why not." So, the rabbit sat on the ground below the crow, and rested. All of a sudden, a fox appeared, jumped on the rabbit and ate it.

• Q: What can we learn from this?
• A: To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very high up.

Crash And Burn.

All evening long I felt totally exhausted and drained. I just could not move fast enough to get my work done. By the time I got home, I felt like I just wanted to curl up in a corner and die. I don't know what my problem is. Most likely because I haven't had my medication in a couple of days. I made especially sure to take it once I got home.

It was a very busy day today at the store. We had to bring out more carts to the front. Naturally, the store was completely trashed, and it took forever to get it straightened up.

Takin' In The Scenery.

One of the [ahem] side benefits of working at "Big Red" in the north side of town is the quality of the clientelle, which is a whole lot better than the animals I used to have to deal with over at "Little Red."

Naturally, visual appearance is included in the term "better quality." Not a day goes by when my co-workers come to me and point out some heavenly creature or divinely gorgeous M.I.L.F. and her equally hot daughter. (M.I.L.F. as in, "mommas I'd love to freak da booty with.")

Yesterday evening things got turned up a notch. They introduced us to a new team leader, who by coincidence just happened to be a stunning blonde with curves and hips that won't quit.

Yowsa.

Because the evening crew is staffed almost entirely with horn-dogs, I don't know how long she'll last, but for as long as she's there I am all "Yes Ma'am!"

"Monkey Business Management Secrets" No. 1

• To err is human,
• To shift the blame somewhere else shows management potential.
  

Football Madness.

The last couple of days it's been pretty busy at the store. Most of the traffic was Super Bowl shopping. Sunday afternoon about 4pm the traffic died off and it became fairly dead on the sales floor.

There's quite a few disappointed Bears fans on the sales crew. I told them the Colts would win. Why? Because it was too much of a money machine for the odds makers. Chicago went in with a lot of money riding on them, and they did good for awhile, but my hunch told me the tide of the game would shift, right about the time everyone's bets were solid around the world. Sure enough, the Colts came from behind and whomped 'em. Ka-ching. I could hear the sound of money changing hands all across the world.

All weekend long we've had to deal with people coming in to buy our clearance furniture. With items that were sold out, people got on their hands and knees and begged us to sell them the displays, which we can't because of liability policy. They would beg us to call every store between here and B.F.E. to find some stupid footstool or things like that.

I'm thinking to myself, "all this for a bunch of cheap, particle board crap made in God-knows-what-slave-labor-country? Here's an idea people: save your money, buy some REAL furniture at an actual furniture store downtown, leave us alone and get a freakin' life, ya cheapskates...."