A Happy Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving, and I’m feeling pretty good.

In my little corner of the world, the sun is shining, creating a lovely warm and cozy apple-pie glow on the walls. It’s chilly outside, the air smells clean, the sky is blue, and all of the best qualities of autumn are manifest. Just enough wind to blow the leaves around without being bitter cold, but brisk enough to justify a good cup of hot coffee and a bracing breakfast. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I don’t have to be at work. It’s almost as if I fell asleep wearing rose colored glasses and they simply fused to my nose. This holiday for me has been, over the years, comprised overwhelmingly of more incredibly good memories than bad ones (although the few bad ones are real hum-dingers.)

I’m lucky, I know.

Suddenly, and out of nowhere, really, I’m reminded that not everyone shares my enthusiasm for Thanksgiving. For instance, my extended family by marriage is multi-cultural, and there’s no Thanksgiving in Denmark, so for my second cousin currently living in the US, the fourth Thursday in November is simply a few paid days off. There are others, too, who go to great lengths to be anti-holiday, who call it a “commercial non-occasion”.

Fair enough.

I realize that the importance of Thanksgiving doesn’t lie anywhere near the Pilgrim story that we’re given as children. I suppose it’s a handy story, a tidy way to teach tolerance, sharing, learning, giving, and assuredly many other desirable qualities that can sometimes seem quite abstract for the very young. I’m not saying it didn’t happen, because I’m sure that somewhere along the line, the European and Native cultures merged in a harmonious way. On the other hand, no holiday would be complete without a little controversy: there’s the whole “we gave them smallpox blankets and alcoholism” contingency, and that’s okay too. We did, I guess, and whether there was malice aforethought, we’ll never know for sure. At any rate, I’m pretty sure that there is a little too much focus on turkeys and shoe buckles and who brought the cranberries to America’s First Potluck, when the pith of the whole thing is to look inside our wee jaded hearts and find some gratitude there.

I whipped out the microscope, and this is what I found. I am deeply thankful:

1. For the experiences, good and bad, that made me the person I am today.

2. That I have to use both hands and a few of my toes to count the people in my world who truly love me for who I am and whom I can trust with my life. My life. Are you kidding me? That’s a gift, for sure.

3. That I won’t be cooking this holiday. The local E.R. is pleased, too.

Have a safe Thanksgiving, and here’s to your Alka-Seltzer always being within arm’s reach today.

Badly Needed Break

Working for a behemoth company can have its benefits.

Today, as is usual in anticipation of the holiday weekend, we close early so people can get a head start on the holiday. It’s a ghost town, because most folks got this so-called head start last Saturday, and already are where they will remain until next Sunday. If you’ve actually managed to straggle into the office, you’re either hating it because you’re paid by the project, at least one of which isn’t anywhere near completion, the deadline looms and your assistant is already in Cabo; or you’re loving it because you’re hourly, get paid a whole day’s wages for a half a day’s work and can’t wait to get the hell out of Dodge.

Needless to say, I’m stoked.

There is a boulder of salt here: All of the idiocy that I would normally encounter over the course of an eight-hour workday becomes condensed into half that time period, turning my morning into a korporate keystone kops of sorts. I’ve been doing this long enough to know the drill, and have learned to take the preemptive strike. The absolute first thing I do is send out a reminder to everyone that the office is closing at noon (!) so many of the regular afternoon office services will occur early and that anyone needing my assistance ought to let me know as soon as possible.

You have four hours, people. Use them wisely.

Now, the fact that we lock up at noon has been broadcast for at least a week, and as referenced earlier, is standard operating procedure before a company paid holiday such as this one. However, my email seems to arouse some of the office cube zombies, and the quest for fresh brains begins.

With this in mind, I give you the ten lamest questions I fielded today. Enjoy.

1. Wait, what time do you leave today?
2. This packet needs to go Priority. Can it be there by 10:30 tomorrow?
3. How cold is it out there right now?
4. This is so weird. Isn’t Thanksgiving usually the 24th of November?
5. Is the Tokyo office closing early, too?
6. What’s today? Wednesday?
7. Okay, I just read your email. Doesn't the mail get processed at 4:00?
8. How bad will the traffic be, do you think?
9. Oh, right, we’re closing at 12:00. What time zone?
10. How many days until Christmas?

Think, people.

One Moment, Please

Two receptionists having a conversation:

Me: “Thank you for calling Multi National Mega Global, how may I direct your call?”
Liz: “Hey girl, it’s me. I’m calling back to try to make some (beep) plans to (beep) get together…(beep) Do you need to get that?”
Me: “Yeah, hang on a sec…”
Me: “Thank you for calling Multi National Mega Global, how may I direct your call?”
Random Caller # 1: “Sam Shenanigan, please.”
Me: “One moment please.” (boop, boop, boop, boop)
Me: “Okay, I’m back. Get together? Lessee, uh, what about (doodle-doodle) December…uh…” (doodle-doodle)
Liz: “Oops, you hang on now… [Warehouse Mania - You can leave your...] They hung up.”
Me: “I can hear you talking to customers. You calling from your cell?”
Liz: “Yeah. Anyway, December? (beep) That sounds (beep) good. I’m thinkin’ (beep) the…”
Me: “One second.”
Me: “Thank you for calling Multi National Mega Global, how may I direct your call?”
Random Caller # 2: “What? Who is this?”
Me: “This is Multi National Mega Global.”
Random Caller # 2: “Oh, I’ve got… I’ve got the wrong number.” Click.
Me: “Okay Liz you there? Wrong number. So, December. What (beep) about Fri… (beep) Hang on…”
Me: “Thank you for calling Multi National Mega Global, how may I direct your call?”
Random Caller # 2, again: Click.
Me: “Tsk. It was a hang up. All right, Friday the 7th? How does (doodle-doodle) that work for (doodle-doodle) you and...I’ll hold.”
Liz: “Just a minute. [Warehouse Mania - You can leave your cares with us. Who? Oh, he’s in a meeting right now. Would you like his voice mail? Thank you.] Okay, Friday the 7th.”
Me: “Do you still have to say that whole spiel every time?”
Liz: “Yeah, it’s sick, don’t you think?”
Me: “Man, I thought mine was bad. Okay, back to the 7th. I’m out of here at five, so maybe we meet up at GingerBeer’s?”
Liz: “How about this: let’s do cheap and have a (beep) potluck or some (beep) thing at…Go.”
Me: “Thank you for calling Multi National Mega Global, how may I direct your call?”
Random Caller # 3: “Hi, this is Jody from Corporate. I’ve got Mr. King on the line for Mr. Shenanigan. May I connect you?”
Me: “Hi Jody. Okay, go ahead.”
Jody: “Go ahead, Mr. King.”
Mr. King: “Put me through to Sam.”
Me: “One moment please.” (boop, boop, boop, boop)
Me: “Jeez, when it rains it pours. So you said potluck. Hello? You still there?”
Liz: “[…and thanks for calling Warehouse Mania. Bye now.] Okay, you there?”
Me: “Hi. Potluck?”
Liz: “Oh, yeah. I’m thinking we could go up to Stuart’s (beep) house and… (beep) Yeah, go on.”
Me: “Hold on.”
Me: “Thank you for calling Multi National Mega Global, how may I direct your call?”
Random Caller # 4: “This is not a joke! Business owner, you are qualified for a…”
Me: Click.
Me: “Liz, I’m back. It was one of those recordings.”
Liz: “Was it ‘Estimado cliente’ or ‘This is not a joke’”?
Me: “’This is not a joke’. Anyway, the 7th, Stuart’s, potluck. You still a (beep) vegan?” (beep)
Liz: “Listen, I (doodle-doodle) gotta go.” (doodle-doodle)
Me: “Well, (beep) why don’t you (beep) send me an email?” (beep)
Liz: “Cool. I’ll (doodle-doodle) do that. So glad (doodle-doodle) we got to (doodle-doodle) chat!”
Me: “Me too, girl! (beep) Let’s talk (beep) soon!”

Happy Birthday To Me

So, today is my birthday. How do I know? All the freaks come out. It’s exactly one week after Halloween and inevitably someone weird steps out of the periphery.

Observe.

Earlier today, a woman calls the main line of our firm and declares,
“I want to talk to God.”

I don’t work for a church or an organization with any religious affiliation. It couldn’t be any more random.

“I beg your pardon?”
“I want to talk to God.”

Remarkably she isn’t rude about it, or whiny. Often folks on a mission get pushy. Not she. Simply, “I want to talk to God.” If I were to testify under oath, I’d swear she’s lucid.

The first smart-ass response that flies through my head is, “Sam is away from his desk right now, would you like his voice mail?” Given His lofty attitude regarding Himself, the call might actually be for Sam Shenanigan, Captain of Industry.

Instead, I choose the high road.

“Uh, Ma’am, I think you must have the wrong number. We’re a business. You’ve…you’ve reached a business.”
“Oh.” she says, crestfallen. “All right.”
Click.

Two minutes later: “I want to talk to God.”
“Ma’am, this is a business. There’s no God here.”

Really. This is corporate America, people.

“Oh, okay.”
Click.

Third time’s a charm. “I want to talk to God.”

Sigh. You and me both, lady.

“Okay, Ma’am. I’m…I’m not sure where God is right now, may I take a message?”
“Well, my leg hurts.”
“Oh, okay. And your name?”
“He knows.”
“Uh-huh, okay, uh…, well, I’m sure he’ll get the message then.”
“Thank you.”
Click.

No lightning so far.