Sinister: evil jobs

[petula]

At 03:18 AM 6/21/1998 -0400, brad wrote:

>in the past week i've had the following occurences at work:
>
>1. some old guy wanted the number to the CIA in so and so town (i can't
>remember) and while i was looking he asked me if i was gonna kill him.
>i said "why would i kill you" and he said because he knew where the
>secret headquarters was, i told him i didn't know what he was talking
>about so he goes "you  fucking son of a bitchin fuck, you won't kill me
>cause you don't know where i live" and he was yelling...i mean yelling.
>apparently he thought that i worked for the government. so i said, "no i
>don't know where you live, but i know your phone number. we'll be there
>in an hour." and then he let out this big gasp! and hung up the phone.

Ooooh, this hit too close to home to pass up. 

I work for the government (temporarily, thank you!!), and for the first 8
months of my assignment I was on reception, taking calls from disgruntled
workers, union members and evil lawyers from across the province.  NEVER
take government temp jobs. See, people have this notion that because their
taxes pay your salary (which they only do in an indirect way since I'm from
an agency), you owe them the world and they have to right to treat you like
absolute crap in the process. 
Yeah, yeah, the government sucks, but be nice to the receptionists because
chances are they are poor little temps who are never offered contracts or
benefits or paid sick days because Mike Harris (evil Premier) prefers to
burn them out and get a new temp which saves the province lots of money so
he can have more posh lunch functions where they unveil the new laws
cracking down on those good-for-nothing single mother welfare recipients who
spend their cheques on beer, so he said. 

ANYHOW. 

Sometimes funny (albeit twisted) things do happen, though. 
   
There was the woman who called in the complain about her boss.  She worked
for a sex chat line that ran out of his house. Apparently she'd caught some,
err,  affliction off his couches, because all the girls lay on them naked
during their shift.  Their boss made them do that as he thought it put them
in the right mood.  I didn't know what to tell her!  Health & Safety
complaint perhaps?    

Or the guy who filed a complaint against his union for being fired.  His
statement was a volume, 2 inches thick! In it we discovered he'd been
harrassing this woman at work, claiming she should have understood that only
with her could he begin the sexual healing process he so desperately needed,
due to a very traumatic childhood. Hello, stalker much???

*B&S Content*:  sometimes I'd get so upset from the calls that I'd just have
to walk away from the front desk.  I'd take off for the 10th floor, which
was empty, and sit on the floor & listen to them on my walkman until I
calmed down. 

right, off to make brunch for my dad.

love elisabeth xx

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