This rant brought to you by the asshole with the bagel.
Specifically, I'm talking about the rules that have been established for users at the library I work at. It's not hard. Really, there are only a few rules that one must be aware of and abide by, and even those aren't really that hard.
The rules that I'm talking about are:
1. Lidded beverages are okay, non-lidded beverages, not so much.
2. No food allowed. Period. If you want to eat, take it outside (meaning outside outside), or take it to the brand new, shiny and wonderful cafe that was built for you unappreciative assholes and just opened a couple weeks ago.
3. This is a quite zone, which means no group work and no talking on your cell.
In case you are unclear about any of these things, there are signs posted all over that repeat these rules and indicate if maybe rule three doesn't apply because of the area you're in.
Of the above rules, I've never had a problem with the first one. A few times a week we have to talk to people about 2 and 3. Usually it's not a big deal.
You may not realize that I can see pretty much everything going on in the library from the counter. It is a big open space after all. You also may not realize that because of the way this building was designed and the way the acoustics are, I can hear just about everything that goes on, especially when there are less than a dozen people in here, as there were this morning.
So when you sit down about 20 feet from the desk and start unwrapping the wax paper bag that holds your bagel, what do you think the most likely outcome is going to be? I'll tell you what it is. I'm going to roll my eyes, look for where the sound came from, come out from behind the counter and tell you that food is not allowed. Your options at this point are either to 1. put it away until you leave or 2. take your food to the above mentioned cafe and eat it there.
Of course you took the high road, what with your frustrated sigh, and jamming your bagel back into the bag, getting up in a huff before I was done talking, and storming out to the other end of the hall to stare into the library (from the other library where food still isn't allowed) and eat your bagel in silent fury. Oh, and saying "Thanks bro" to me as you walked in was total class. I hope you choked on that bagel just a little bit.
I understand that it's finals next week and you're probably pretty stressed about that. And hey, it's early-ish in the morning and you're probably hungry. Maybe you should have eaten your bagel before coming into the big building full of books where food isn't allowed.
Now I've been dwelling on this for far too long, and it's starting to color my Friday poorly. I wasn't looking forward to today anyway, but you've really put the icing on the cake.
I should really get back to work, because there are a couple guys that have been whispering this whole time and I should probably say something to them. Maybe one of them will give me a big 'ol thank you like you did.
Showing posts with label ranting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ranting. Show all posts
Friday, March 9, 2012
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Breaking Musical Law
On my way into work this morning, as I was switching out CDs for the audiobook I'm listening too, the radio station that came on (94.7) broke musical law. It was a horrible atrocity and I was genuinely surprised, especially by the sequence of songs that was played.
The song that was playing as I switched out audiobooks was none other than Queen's Another One Bites the Dust. Musical law dictates that this must be followed by the We Are the Champions. But that wasn't what happened. Instead, Another One Bites the Dust was followed by The Hustle. WTF? The Hustle? There are only four unique words in that fucking "song." This will not do. Admittedly, I wasn't really in the mood to listen to either Queen song, and in fact I ended up popping in an Eagles of Death Metal CD because the audiobook I'm listening to right now is making me a little stabby. However, it is musical law, and I must rectify it.
Understand that if you listen to one, you must listen to the other.
The song that was playing as I switched out audiobooks was none other than Queen's Another One Bites the Dust. Musical law dictates that this must be followed by the We Are the Champions. But that wasn't what happened. Instead, Another One Bites the Dust was followed by The Hustle. WTF? The Hustle? There are only four unique words in that fucking "song." This will not do. Admittedly, I wasn't really in the mood to listen to either Queen song, and in fact I ended up popping in an Eagles of Death Metal CD because the audiobook I'm listening to right now is making me a little stabby. However, it is musical law, and I must rectify it.
Understand that if you listen to one, you must listen to the other.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Post Office Rant
The other day I went to the Post Office, that shinning pillar of customer service and efficiency. I didn't have a tall order. I had one piece of mail, already stamped, to drop off for a coworker, and I had one package that I needed to have sent to Aurora. I got to the post office at about 1:30 on a Thursday. I figured by this time I'd probably have missed the lunch rush and wouldn't have to wait too long. That was stupid of me.
I got in line behind ten to 15 people, many of them had already adopted body language that said this has taken way too fucking long and I'm still waiting in line. One window didn't have a sign up in front of it or anything. Another window had a sign directing customers to the third window. There was a person standing behind that window doing precisely dick. The third window had a staff member at it who was actively helping people. The person behind window number two would occasionally announce that the other person who was able to help us was at lunch and would be back in 20 minutes or so, and that if anyone had something to drop off and didn't require any actual assistance, she would take it. At least one cranky customer in line asked if there wasn't someone else who could help out, but of course there was. This despite the fact that the one woman was standing behind the counter doing nothing and at least two other Post Office workers stood behind the counter at one point or another.
No wonder everyone bitches about the post office.
I've worked in the customer service industry in one capacity or another for roughly 12 years. About 10 of those years were in retail and the last two years are with the library. I know good customer service and I know bad customer service and I know horrible customer service. This was horrible customer service.
I got through the line faster than I anticipated, and never got to see this mythic second clerk who would be able to help move the line faster. I do know that by the time I left the line was just as long as when I had got there. Also, I counted nine security cameras in the lobby of the Post Office. What the hell? Why would a Post Office in a small, well to do community on Chicagoland's north shore need nine security cameras in the lobby?
I've been thinking a lot about customer service lately. The good and the bad, and the people that can, can't, and can but aren't willing to provide it. Aside from being a pain in the ass, this little trip provided a good lesson on what is necessary in making a strong customer service experience.
I got in line behind ten to 15 people, many of them had already adopted body language that said this has taken way too fucking long and I'm still waiting in line. One window didn't have a sign up in front of it or anything. Another window had a sign directing customers to the third window. There was a person standing behind that window doing precisely dick. The third window had a staff member at it who was actively helping people. The person behind window number two would occasionally announce that the other person who was able to help us was at lunch and would be back in 20 minutes or so, and that if anyone had something to drop off and didn't require any actual assistance, she would take it. At least one cranky customer in line asked if there wasn't someone else who could help out, but of course there was. This despite the fact that the one woman was standing behind the counter doing nothing and at least two other Post Office workers stood behind the counter at one point or another.
No wonder everyone bitches about the post office.
I've worked in the customer service industry in one capacity or another for roughly 12 years. About 10 of those years were in retail and the last two years are with the library. I know good customer service and I know bad customer service and I know horrible customer service. This was horrible customer service.
I got through the line faster than I anticipated, and never got to see this mythic second clerk who would be able to help move the line faster. I do know that by the time I left the line was just as long as when I had got there. Also, I counted nine security cameras in the lobby of the Post Office. What the hell? Why would a Post Office in a small, well to do community on Chicagoland's north shore need nine security cameras in the lobby?
I've been thinking a lot about customer service lately. The good and the bad, and the people that can, can't, and can but aren't willing to provide it. Aside from being a pain in the ass, this little trip provided a good lesson on what is necessary in making a strong customer service experience.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
For Want of a Flu Shot
If you live in Cook County, IL and want to get vaccinated against H1N1, good luck. It seems like it's been nothing but lines and problems and people being turned away when trying to get the vaccine that no one can get enough of. I know they've been having trouble, at least around here, getting enough of the vaccine in to fill demand, to the point where even healthcare professionals have had to wait.
Brandi's been pretty worried, understandably so, about getting the shot. We've got a 3-year-old, as well as a 4-week-old at home, not to mention her father, who has a compromised immune system. We do not need this germ in our home period.
It's been in the news that hundreds of people are turned away at the vaccination clinics, and then we found out you have to make an appointment. There are numbers set up, based on where you live to schedule a vaccination appointment. I've been calling. And calling. And when I'm done calling, I call some more.
Last Friday, when I was able to get onto the automated system, I waited on hold for an hour and 45 mintues, being told every couple of minutes that my call would be answered in the order it was received. Finally, I couldn't wait on hold any longer and I had to go. Then Monday, Tuesday and today I've been calling, getting a busy signal every time. Eventually, I called the County's Department of Public Health. The very friendly woman there gave me another couple of numbers to call after taking my address. I would imagine that there are a lot of hysterical people calling into these numbers, so for the woman who answered to be pleasant and polite was very nice, and not what I was expecting. I proceeded to call the numbers she had given me and got back onto another automated system where I sat on hold. I was loathe to leave the phone while on hold, but nonetheless, there were times when I would have to run to another part of the building and drop something off, or check with someone else for something.
After a little over an hour, finally, I got a ring. I snatched the phone off of speaker phone to make sure I didn't miss the person on the other end. I told her that I wanted to get the shot for Brandi, Logan and myself. She asked how old Brandi is, and when I told her, her immediate response was "She doesn't apply, you can't get the shot." Right now the only people getting the shot are in the high-risk category, which, among other factors, includes parents/caregivers with children less than 6 months old, children 6 months to X (I don't remember what age) and people with immunity issues. "Wait, wait, wait," I told her, "we have a four-week-old and a three-year-old at home, we apply."
So she took my information, and now we're all set. What an ordeal. At least now, come Monday afternoon, we won't have to worry so much about H1N1 invading the home any more.
Brandi's been pretty worried, understandably so, about getting the shot. We've got a 3-year-old, as well as a 4-week-old at home, not to mention her father, who has a compromised immune system. We do not need this germ in our home period.
It's been in the news that hundreds of people are turned away at the vaccination clinics, and then we found out you have to make an appointment. There are numbers set up, based on where you live to schedule a vaccination appointment. I've been calling. And calling. And when I'm done calling, I call some more.
Last Friday, when I was able to get onto the automated system, I waited on hold for an hour and 45 mintues, being told every couple of minutes that my call would be answered in the order it was received. Finally, I couldn't wait on hold any longer and I had to go. Then Monday, Tuesday and today I've been calling, getting a busy signal every time. Eventually, I called the County's Department of Public Health. The very friendly woman there gave me another couple of numbers to call after taking my address. I would imagine that there are a lot of hysterical people calling into these numbers, so for the woman who answered to be pleasant and polite was very nice, and not what I was expecting. I proceeded to call the numbers she had given me and got back onto another automated system where I sat on hold. I was loathe to leave the phone while on hold, but nonetheless, there were times when I would have to run to another part of the building and drop something off, or check with someone else for something.
After a little over an hour, finally, I got a ring. I snatched the phone off of speaker phone to make sure I didn't miss the person on the other end. I told her that I wanted to get the shot for Brandi, Logan and myself. She asked how old Brandi is, and when I told her, her immediate response was "She doesn't apply, you can't get the shot." Right now the only people getting the shot are in the high-risk category, which, among other factors, includes parents/caregivers with children less than 6 months old, children 6 months to X (I don't remember what age) and people with immunity issues. "Wait, wait, wait," I told her, "we have a four-week-old and a three-year-old at home, we apply."
So she took my information, and now we're all set. What an ordeal. At least now, come Monday afternoon, we won't have to worry so much about H1N1 invading the home any more.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Not Much to Say Today
It's a slow/quiet day here in the office, which makes it really hard to get stuff done. Also, after coming off of the huge deadlines on Monday, there's a couple days of detox/depressurization that usually culminates in the completion of busy work.
I've been in a really foul mood this week and it's left me with little love of work and many other things. I think I've been using the business at work as a kind of shield against all the bad stuff that's happened over the last week, and now that it's slowed down over the last couple days all the stuff I've been pushing back has come crashing down on me. I'm trying hard not to be short with everyone at home, and I'm trying to not get so easily irritated at work (both jobs), as I've been want to do this week.
On top of that, we had our annual benefits update meeting yesterday and our benefits cost is going up $90 per month. Money is already tight, and this doesn't help things at all. If I would have gotten a raise this year, at least that would have covered the extra insurance cost, but no such luck there. I may be polishing off my resume soon. It's a shame because I really like the environment that I work in and the people I work with, but that wont keep my family in food and clothes.
I feel like I should be writing more and rewriting what I've got, but I just can't motivate myself to do it, which makes me feel worse, which makes me feel less like writing...it's a shitty cycle.
I worry about Logan all the time. I don't think I've said anything about it here, but at his 18-month check up his doctor was concerned that he wasn't saying as many words as she thought he should. We looked into a program with the state and they recommended speach, developmental and occupational therapy for him. He's doing the therapy and we're seeing results, but I just worry that he might have problems later on. At the initial assessment, they said he had some skills that were below where they should be for his age, some that were right on for his age and some that were way ahead of where he should be. I know every kid's going to develop differently, but as a parent I can't help but worry.
I worry about Brandi. I can't ever understand how deeply she was affected by the loss of the baby last week. I just want her to be happy again, really happy and there's nothing I can do about it.
Things will turn around eventually, but until then I just don't know. I don't have all the answers. My parents say they worry that I've got the weight of the world on my shoulders and that it's going to wear me down, but honestly, what adult doesn't carry around a lot of weight.
Ok, that's enough of that.
In other news, I saw a Decepticon on the way to work this morning. It's vehicle form was a fork lift, which I thought was pretty sneaky, but I saw it's symbol and now know it's true identity. If you see a fork lift acting funny, driving on it's own, talking, or anything else suspicious, watch out. You may want to call the Autobots into action, although I don't know how to get in touch with them.
This weekend we're going to Holland, MI. We'll be driving up on Sunday and staying overnight. Monday I have an interview and factory tour to conduct at a woodworking shop up there. Then we'll come home Monday afternoon/evening. We'll still be a few hours away from Shawn, but closer than we were last weekend. Saturday I have to work at the library and then we're going to a surprise 18th birthday party for one of Brandi's cousins.
Guess I had more to say than I thought. That's all for now. Talk to y'all later.
I've been in a really foul mood this week and it's left me with little love of work and many other things. I think I've been using the business at work as a kind of shield against all the bad stuff that's happened over the last week, and now that it's slowed down over the last couple days all the stuff I've been pushing back has come crashing down on me. I'm trying hard not to be short with everyone at home, and I'm trying to not get so easily irritated at work (both jobs), as I've been want to do this week.
On top of that, we had our annual benefits update meeting yesterday and our benefits cost is going up $90 per month. Money is already tight, and this doesn't help things at all. If I would have gotten a raise this year, at least that would have covered the extra insurance cost, but no such luck there. I may be polishing off my resume soon. It's a shame because I really like the environment that I work in and the people I work with, but that wont keep my family in food and clothes.
I feel like I should be writing more and rewriting what I've got, but I just can't motivate myself to do it, which makes me feel worse, which makes me feel less like writing...it's a shitty cycle.
I worry about Logan all the time. I don't think I've said anything about it here, but at his 18-month check up his doctor was concerned that he wasn't saying as many words as she thought he should. We looked into a program with the state and they recommended speach, developmental and occupational therapy for him. He's doing the therapy and we're seeing results, but I just worry that he might have problems later on. At the initial assessment, they said he had some skills that were below where they should be for his age, some that were right on for his age and some that were way ahead of where he should be. I know every kid's going to develop differently, but as a parent I can't help but worry.
I worry about Brandi. I can't ever understand how deeply she was affected by the loss of the baby last week. I just want her to be happy again, really happy and there's nothing I can do about it.
Things will turn around eventually, but until then I just don't know. I don't have all the answers. My parents say they worry that I've got the weight of the world on my shoulders and that it's going to wear me down, but honestly, what adult doesn't carry around a lot of weight.
Ok, that's enough of that.
In other news, I saw a Decepticon on the way to work this morning. It's vehicle form was a fork lift, which I thought was pretty sneaky, but I saw it's symbol and now know it's true identity. If you see a fork lift acting funny, driving on it's own, talking, or anything else suspicious, watch out. You may want to call the Autobots into action, although I don't know how to get in touch with them.
This weekend we're going to Holland, MI. We'll be driving up on Sunday and staying overnight. Monday I have an interview and factory tour to conduct at a woodworking shop up there. Then we'll come home Monday afternoon/evening. We'll still be a few hours away from Shawn, but closer than we were last weekend. Saturday I have to work at the library and then we're going to a surprise 18th birthday party for one of Brandi's cousins.
Guess I had more to say than I thought. That's all for now. Talk to y'all later.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
What's For Dinner?: A Rant
Seems like ranting has been the flavor (ha!) of the day around a few of my regular haunts out on the intertubes, and damn it, I have a rant too. But first, lets answer the question above. What was for dinner tonight? Grilled cheese and shitty French onion soup. And why, Matt, would you be having grilled cheese and shitty French onion soup for dinner? Because I'm a little tired of making dinner, that's why.
Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind cooking for my family. I enjoy cooking and I enjoy experimenting with food, but every once in a while, it would be nice for someone else to make dinner. In Brandi's defense, she doesn't enjoy cooking and she has to take care of Logan all day, so she's not exactly keen on jumping into the kitchen at the end of the day. She does make dinner, but only on the nights where I'm working, which means she's making dinner two nights out of seven. Then there's Vern, my father-in-law, who made baked chicken, rice and some kind of canned vegitables just about every night of the week, unless he had dinner with someone else.
Part of the problem with making dinner when I come home is that after being at work all day, Logan wants to spend time with his daddy. This makes making dinner much more difficult when there's a screaming toddler getting in the way for every step you take in the kitchen. If I manage to get him distracted in the living room with something, then he has some kind of internal clock that tells him he needs to scream every two minutes and run into the kitchen to make sure I didn't sneak away somewhere.
Most recently, though, I've just become a little tired of cooking. When I ask for volunteers, no one ever wants to step forward. A typical exchange might go like this.
Logan: screams (translates into OMG Where'd daddy go!?!) *runs into kitchen*
Me: Do you think you could distract him for a while so I can make dinner?
Brandi: I've been dealing with him all day and he just wants his daddy.
Me: *picks up Logan and tries to cook single handed*
Logan: Want's to play, not be carried around the kitchen.
Me: This isn't working. Could you please watch him for just a little longer?
Brandi: He doesn't want me.
Me: Ugh, well does anyone else want to make dinner then?
*cue crickets*
Another thing that bothers me is that when dinner's ready, I let everyone know, and usually have to let them know again before they rouse themselves to come eat. Then, everyone gets their plates ready first and I get at it last by which time it's not really hot any more.
So that's why tonight was grilled cheese and this god awful soup mix that I had some left over from another recipe. It was simple and quick and I didn't really think about it. Even so, I ended up getting at least half of everyone's sandwhich darker than they prefer.
Ugh, I feel like I have more to say, but I'm out of rant juice.
Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind cooking for my family. I enjoy cooking and I enjoy experimenting with food, but every once in a while, it would be nice for someone else to make dinner. In Brandi's defense, she doesn't enjoy cooking and she has to take care of Logan all day, so she's not exactly keen on jumping into the kitchen at the end of the day. She does make dinner, but only on the nights where I'm working, which means she's making dinner two nights out of seven. Then there's Vern, my father-in-law, who made baked chicken, rice and some kind of canned vegitables just about every night of the week, unless he had dinner with someone else.
Part of the problem with making dinner when I come home is that after being at work all day, Logan wants to spend time with his daddy. This makes making dinner much more difficult when there's a screaming toddler getting in the way for every step you take in the kitchen. If I manage to get him distracted in the living room with something, then he has some kind of internal clock that tells him he needs to scream every two minutes and run into the kitchen to make sure I didn't sneak away somewhere.
Most recently, though, I've just become a little tired of cooking. When I ask for volunteers, no one ever wants to step forward. A typical exchange might go like this.
Logan: screams (translates into OMG Where'd daddy go!?!) *runs into kitchen*
Me: Do you think you could distract him for a while so I can make dinner?
Brandi: I've been dealing with him all day and he just wants his daddy.
Me: *picks up Logan and tries to cook single handed*
Logan: Want's to play, not be carried around the kitchen.
Me: This isn't working. Could you please watch him for just a little longer?
Brandi: He doesn't want me.
Me: Ugh, well does anyone else want to make dinner then?
*cue crickets*
Another thing that bothers me is that when dinner's ready, I let everyone know, and usually have to let them know again before they rouse themselves to come eat. Then, everyone gets their plates ready first and I get at it last by which time it's not really hot any more.
So that's why tonight was grilled cheese and this god awful soup mix that I had some left over from another recipe. It was simple and quick and I didn't really think about it. Even so, I ended up getting at least half of everyone's sandwhich darker than they prefer.
Ugh, I feel like I have more to say, but I'm out of rant juice.
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