Captivity - Day 64 Jimmy - stop spray painting the plane

Thank God people are willing to break these draconian laws; women can now get manicures! One lady had to wait two months.

Hey - hand sanitizer people: left in a hot car, it burst into flames.
You're just screwed no matter what you do.


The weather forecast is rains, storms; equivalent to green here. 107% humidity.


Idiot Mayor stops free parking because it must no longer be essential.

All Philthy counties anticipated to go to yellow phase by June 5, according to Idiot Governor.  Idiot Governor put on spaceship by entire population of Pennsylvania.

Christmas will soon arrive for the city, as Idiot Mayor authorizes speed and red light cameras to begin operating June 1.


Here we are, at the beginning of the 3 day Memorial Day vacation. It's hot, ridiculously humid. What to do? A phone is ringing but I can't find it. That's ok, who wants to talk to anyone anyway? If they want to talk to me, they can read this blog. The house line is probably the one ringing, but that can't be answered. No one ever knows where the handset went. One day it discharged and we couldn't find it for 6 months. Nobody noticed. Now it's lost on a daily basis. I expect to find it in the back yard at some point, perhaps by the dog.



We're are doing battle with a toilet.
It's winning.


I'm happy to note that the first day of the weekend went smoothly, with only 2 naps. The first one was an hour, the second, the rest of the day.

Work is Weird

Yeah, like everybody doesn't know that.

My (relatively) new job is a real treat.
It's a humongous stereotype. It's laughable. And I like it a lot.

The first thing you notice is the Cube Farm.  They are particularly nice cubes, with more storage than a woman needs for shoes (as if there's any such thing).  The walls are high, so you can't see your neighbors.  This gives the false impression that you cannot hear your neighbors. Nothing could be further from the truth.  In fact, I have one neighbor who routinely coughs up a lung, another who talks very loudly and constantly to her neighbors and one who snores. I am not kidding.  Today I was serenaded by a speakerphone conference call on ligostics and purposes of pillow puffing on the executive enterprise level. It was difficult to decide whether to kill him or fall asleep.  Circumstances forced the latter.

There's another lady who sits across the large room and talks in paragraphs without breathing. This reminds me of my wife and consequently drives me MAD. Although my wife must have planted her there because she's actually worse, so I don't mind when my wife does it so much.

The organization is not particularly streamlined. Or fast. In fact, it took five weeks to get me a computer and a cube of my very own.  This is in spite of everything being ordered weeks before my start date.  One of the things that slowed operations down was my inability to fill out my forms before my start date. I am not kidding. If I had filled out the paperwork before I got hired, I would have had my computer weeks earlier. Maybe.

We're also slow.  Crawlingly, monolithically, organizationally slow.  The circus I recently left was a veritable speedway by comparison.  Even the doors are slow: I wave my I.D. badge in front of the reader, then wait a bit for it to beep at me. What seems like five minutes transpire before the door starts opening.  S-l-o-w-l-y.

Did I say I have an I.D. card?  Well, I have a temporary I.D. card.  The process to obtain a permanent I.D. card began (again) several weeks before my start date.  One coworker told me it took six months to get his. One poor soul has been there for a year and still doesn't have his paperwork in order.

I have a permanent computer too, as opposed to the temporary computer in the temporary cube.  The company takes security very seriously, as they should. They lock down the computers for safety's sake.  I am most impressed by this, right up until I discover that the only browser allowed is Internet Exploder!  Apparently security is somewhat overrated.  The other problem is that we cannot install other software. The irony here is that my software is safer than the existing stuff.  We can't even surf to many sites, which I'm ok with too. Unfortunately the fellow next to me seems oblivious to this, as he has a monitor dedicated exclusively to YouTube. Today he's been watching sneaker videos (no, really). The other day it was talk show bits (his monitor is in full view). This reminds me of the old place, where the campaign for dual monitors resulted in one being permanently assigned to Faceyspaces.

There is no cell phone signal whatsoever.  This leads to people wandering around aimlessly, staring that their phones and randomly walking into walls.  It also leads to people wandering in the general direction of the stairways, looking for that one signal bar with which to call their brokers. Or bookies.

If you're hungry, there's a cafeteria.  I'd suspect they hire people from my old job but this is different. The first time someone showed me the place, I purchased a soda (at the bargain price of two bucks). My guide let me know to stand in a certain place, let the cashier know what I purchased and how much I was handing over, as he was blind.  Ok, a blind cashier... why not?  He certainly made change a lot faster than most sighted cashiers, so good on him. I was prepared the next time but he wasn't at his post. Instead there was a lady. And saints be praised, she seemed to be looking off to nowhere also.  Ah, another blind cashier, I figured.  By the way, that was the first time that phrase has ever been spoken - I got a prize for it.  I can't wait to find out that the paraplegics are manning the loading dock and the clinically depressed are cleaning the outside windows.


As suggested by a friend, my short-term goal, aside from getting paid to do my work, is to be The Guy.  You know, The Guy.  The Guy who has been there for a while but nobody knows exactly what he does. They've all seen him walking around, but no one has the slightest idea what his job function is.  He's really popular, too. But if he tells you, he'll have to kill you.  They all go home and tell work stories, including The Guy whose job nobody knows. Apparently he's pretty good at whatever he does, because he's still employed and just received a raise and a bonus.  Everyone congratulated him because they have given up trying to figure out what he does.

My boss works in a different city. This results in a lot of streaking up and down the aisles, as well as Wet T-Shirt Nights and Open Guitar Jams. I asked about a dress code and was told no t-shirts with rude settings, which wiped out about ninety-five percent of my wardrobe. I'm teaching them sarcasm now.  It will take a while but the effort will be worth it.


Unfortunately the toilet doesn't like me. I have my choice of three stalls, one of which apparently has something against me. This particular unit is equipped with Automatic Flush.  The first time I noticed this, I was waiting for the toilet to automatically flush. It occurred to me that if I waited any longer, it would be time to clock out. You know that ubiquitous handle? The one on every toilet? This one didn't have one.  In fact, it didn't have much of anything but a sensor (that apparently didn't work) and a tiny blue button.  Hazarding a guess, I pushed the tiny blue button, stepping back and hoping the firemen didn't show up too quickly. Little did I know that a tiny blue button is the international sign for FLUSH.

It was the second time I visited this particular stall that I begun to suspect something was up.  While sitting I sneezed, causing the toilet to auto-flush.  I don't know how many of you have had the opportunity to sit upon a flushing toilet but suffice it to say that it's not particularly pleasant.  When I moved to check my phone, the toilet autoflushed once again, like a puppy, perhaps excited to please his human. Let me stop, at this moment, to let you know that I hadn't actually used the toilet for its intended purpose - it's just that the toilet flushed itself a lot.

When I was finished, the toilet again autoflushed, but this time I escaped its wrath.  Or so I thought. When I pulled up my pants, they stuck to me a bit.  Is this how the French do it?

Tittilation Triumphs from the Twilight Zone

There were three four five brief items that made a huge impact on me today at work:

1. I have long believed that my coworkers are animals who were raised by wolves.  This is routinely proven by the fact that they never clean anything up.  Today I noted (the hard way) that they have de-evolved to the point that they no longer flush.
2. The number three person in the company stopped by to request that the locking code be removed from her cell phone because it was not convenient.   --> Security:  It's Not Convenient <--
3. One of our marketing people was on the local news morning magazine for an impressive ten minute segment.  During the entire segment, he failed to mention his employer.  The contact info on the web page goes to an ex-employee.  And he never told a single coworker he was on tv.
4. My department has six birthdays this month, so we decided to celebrate together.  Cakes were purchased.  In ninety minutes, one of the cakes was taken out of the fridge and left on a table, where the animals consumed it.  One dare not complain, lest he deny the right of the thief to steal his food.
5. The company has had no mail delivery for two days because the driver is on vacation.  In Philadelphia.  Small wonder they're insolvent.

You simply can't make this stuff up.

Better Bathroom Strategies in the Workplace

Today's topic is the bathroom, or loo, for my UK guests.

More specifically, it's the continuing circus that seems to have set itself up around the bathrooms where I work. Being the Twilight Zone, it simply couldn't be normal.

I'm going to take it on faith that the greater majority of bathrooms in the greater majority of workplaces are managed reasonably well, and by that I mean the fixtures are generally adhered to the walls and one doesn't have to swim to the urinal.

You probably think I'm kidding.

Work has introduced yet another great move forward in Bathroom Husbandry this week with its brand new Temperature Initiative.  If you were to go into the bathroom, you would notice that the heat was sufficient, that is to say it's so hot and dry there that you could hang laundry.  As most of the employees do not do laundry at work (one of the few things they don't do, in fact), the heat is somewhat of a puzzle.

At first I suspected Manglement wanted to make the area so inhospitable that mortals wouldn't want to spend any time there, thus cutting down bathroom breaks.  This was until someone reminded me of what the bathrooms are like normally.  Ok, there's one theory shot.

The remaining theory is that the bathroom is just getting all of the heat that's missing from other unimportant areas of the building, like employees' desks.

Then there's the continuing saga of Business Lake.   There is no official lake by that name but it is the name I've chosen to give to the lake in the bathroom.  It's a body of water that just seems to be there, on the floor, regardless of what else is happening.  We thought it might be the result of a stall overflowing or the urinal that drenches its user, but no.

Recently the lake disappeared, triggering a visit from the Bureau of Land Management as well as Clean Water Act volunteers.  Homeland Security can't be far behind but we're lower on their priorities as there's simply nothing to grope.

We had a urinal.

Ok, to be fair, we have a urinal.  As mentioned previously, it had a tendency to splash water up on whoever was using it.  Perhaps for that reason (but by no means definitely), it was removed from service.  The sign and the plastic bag over it did nothing to dissuade the hardcore bathroom enthusiasts from using the urinal.  Perhaps as a result (but by no means definitely), the urinal was removed.  From the wall and the bathroom.

For a month.

I want to qualify my statements: I have absolutely no knowledge of plumbing.  That said, this must have been some urinal replacement.   When I need something done in the bathroom, I call the local expert (my wife).  When the job exceeds my wife's expertise, we do what everyone else does and call the plumber.  The plumber does what he does to everyone else and doesn't call us back.

We have what appears to be a fully-staffed maintenance department so it shakes the foundation of my being to imagine the urinal issue that could not have been solved in under thirty days.  My head is starting to throb, so I'll drop this line of inquiry immediately.

And I'll head right over to the stall.  The stall holds within its walls a standard-issue toilet (or so it would seem).  It was fairly prone to flooding, which led us to believe that it fed Business Lake.  So at some point, the ubiquitous They closed the stall.  The stall didn't work but the lake was still there.

The stall, much like the urinal, stayed closed for close to thirty days.  We actually got a call from In Search Of, who wanted to do a show on the errant toilet.  Eventually, without ceremony, it reopened.

BUT - GERMS!

I work with an incredibly large population of germphobes.  I noticed antibacterial waterless soap dispensers appearing all over the building with frightening frequency.  It was only after I asked for some desk cleaner and my neighbor brought out this eighteen inch tall can of aerosol antibacterial spray that I knew what was happening: the building is full of people with undiagnosed Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Naturally it wasn't long before the bathroom soap dispensers were replaced.  Not only was the soap antibacterial, the dispensers were automatic.  You only had to put your hand under them to get a premeasured dosage of that lovely and comforting antibacterial goodness.

And when you are done with all this antibacterial madness, you can dry your hands on the paper towels.  You know, the paper towels provided by the automatic paper towel dispenser.  Just put your wet hands under the dispenser and you get a premeasured (for your convenience and safety) piece of paper towel.  There is no word on whether the towel is antibacterial or not.

The white paper towels were ok but in order to save money, they went to the brown paper towels.  Shortly after this point it was discovered that the automatic paper towel dispensers weren't all that automatic.  The towels would get shorter and shorter.  You had to `swipe' repeatedly to get enough towel to dry your antibacterial hands.  Shortly thereafter the dispensers simply stopped working entirely, with an unsatisfying BEEP.

While we were waiting for the paper towel dispensers to be put back into service (hopefully under the thirty day minimum), the antibacterial soap dispensers ran out of soap.

For three days.

So to sum things up, we have urinals and stalls out of service for thirty days and now there are dispensers that require daily maintenance or refilling.  How successful do you think this program is going to be?  Perhaps the evil plot is to stop everyone from using the bathrooms in the first place, in which case Manglement is in for a rather rude surprise.

But don't worry - even if you have to wipe your hands on your pants, you can walk out the bathroom door and use the antibacterial waterless soap on the post outside the door.  And again halfway down the hall.