safety guy

Mmm Hmm, Thas’ Right

I have discovered my favorite thing about my desk being in front of my bosses office.
No, it’s not hearing restroom sounds from the single-person restrooms.  Not, it’s not watching people pound on the copier.  It’s the expressions of people’s faces when they see my boss is on the phone or with someone else in his office.  Especially John, whom I speak of frequently.  I think it’s because he feels like his job is the most important one here.  I LOVE seeing him walk up to my boss’ door eager as all hell,  and then watching his face droop in to an annoyed expression.  Sometimes he’ll linger and eavesdrop and even put his two cents in to the conversation (because he’s a social-moron) and then proceed to interrupt.
Bless this Friday he just walked back to find my boss and saw he wasn’t in his office.  His long sigh was followed by a “dang it, every time I try to talk to him, he’s busy or not in his office”.   How badly I wanted to tell him it’s because my boss’ job actually matters.
I bet you’re wondering what he’s done now?  Well, last week he tried to throw me under the bus because he couldn’t even complete one, simple task that his job requires.  I’ve worked here almost a year and he didn’t set me up with an alarm code until last Friday.  I’ve asked him at least 7 times within the time I’ve worked here and instead of installing mine, he gave me his about 4 months ago when I was working late trying to finish orders before a business trip.
Well, I switched my hours from 7:30-4:00 to 7:00-3:30 which means I’m the first to arrive now.  I asked him to set my alarm code last Monday and he said he would.  Weeeeell, by Thursday, I didn’t get an e-mail or anything telling me I was set up, so knowing he didn’t do it, I walked in, punched in the code I asked him to give me and then ate my breakfast in the lunchroom with alarms going off.
I knew this was the only way to go about this because I knew the alarm company would call him and he’d finally do his fucking job and add my code to the system.
By the end of that day, he sent me an e-mail telling me what my new pin would be.  Well, the next morning, I come in and use my code and guess what, it doesn’t work.  So, wtf, right?  Again, I go in the lunchroom and eat my breakfast until Walsh (oh the stories about Walsh) comes in laughing telling me what an idiot John is.
Well, instead of him calling me the day before or the day I set off the alarm to give me his pin (he has my number and used it when I set the alarm off 4 months ago) so the alarms would turn off, he huffs his stupid ass up the stairs and gives me kind of a look like I’m a big, fucking moron.
No “good morning” or any of the feigned cordiality we usually use, he looks at me and says “Yeah, you have to wait 24 hours for the code to go through” and I met his tone with a “Isn’t that something I should have known?  You didn’t tell me that.”
And that was the end of it.  Until this…


I get all of my boss’ e-mails forwarded to me, but John doesn’t know that 🙂
So instead of owning up to the fact that his job performance is to blame, he threw me under the bus.  He knew he’d get his ass chewed and when he told me about the 24 hour thing, he made it sound like it was common knowledge.  That, on top of the fact that he gave me his alarm code 4 months ago but made it sound like he gave it to me until mine was set up.
But, know what?  I love my boss, because my boss saw right through the bullshit.  My boss doesn’t know I get all of his e-mails either.  It was a mistake on my behalf, but I haven’t fixed it yet…
Anyway, after I saw it, I was pissed and I tried to figure out a way to let him know that John was at fault without letting on that I saw the e-mail.  Well, I found a way but my boss was the first to mention the alarm code and he didn’t hide the fact that he thinks John is an incompetent idiot.
It just baffles me that people his [John] age act like such children.  I mean, rather than shift the blame, own up, it’s more respectful and it actually looks better on your behalf.
I’m sorry, I know every other post is about this guy, but seriously, he’s just so much fun to bitch about because he thinks he’s clever and funny and smart and quick-witted and man, is he ever the opposite.
That being said, expect more and more post about him and other co-workers.  And just to put a face with the name:
John Pigeon

 

I’ll eventually get a better picture, but look at that shit-eating-grin.  Disgusting.

 

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WHAT RHYMES WITH FUCK OFF?

I hate meetings.  It’s not necessarily the meetings I dread, it’s the people that I have to listen to.  More than half of whatever they’ve written on their agenda has 8,000 side paths and once they reach their point, they’re already straying from the margins of the next topic.  But even more than listening to these people, I dislike the pompous enthusiasm.  It’s great to like your job, but it’s quite another to treat it as if it were some badge of honor that grants you permission to parade around like some proud rooster, showing off colors everyone has already seen 10,000 times.  Like the safety guy for example, I’ve come to the conclusion that you must have at least 5 socially-inept qualities to even apply for a job in any field of safety.
Let’s not ignore the fact that their belts are always tight enough to ensure that no actual blood flow reach their brains.  Can we also bring to attention the fact that they’re usually the only ones laughing at their jokes.  It has to be part of their training, “be sure to make a pun about ‘handling’ the broom properly”.  I hate it and it makes my teeth hurt listening to them.
Our safety guy at work is the worst, his social skills (or lack thereof) only suggests that he was top of his class.
During meetings, he talks longer than anyone.  This includes his direct boss and the CEO of the company.  Augh, what did he say today… something like “safety isn’t a practice, it’s a journey”  I swear to fucking God, he said it. Every eye in the room shot downwards to avoid making eye contact that might cause the ripple effect of pathetic laughter directed at him.
One meeting, I swear, he was shifting in his chair like there was hot shit in his pants, just waiting to drop this on us:

“My last name is Pigeon, not Parrot [laugh] guys.  I don’t like repeating myself; we really need to make sure we’re wearing safety glasses at all times.”

People think God was resting on the seventh day, but really, he was working on John Pigeon’s ability to come up with a bad joke in advance.  Seriously, I try to put my bitchiness aside and see the good in him, but my vision is always clouded by his arrogant, condescending tone.  To top it off, he’s a one-upper.  If you can catch a fish with your bear-hands, he can do it ice-fishing.  If you saved children from a burning building — I don’t really know anything better than that, but if you tell him of your heroic-doings, you’ll find out.  And you’d think that perhaps with no audience, he’d be different, nope; he’s a Rubick’s Cube with the same color on every side.
I don’t really know why he irritates me so much, but every time I see him, I just want to run in the other direction. Every bit of dribble that comes from his mouth is warded off with some sort of I-hate-you-don’t-talk-to-me repellent, I can’t stand his tone, his voice, his jokes or his laugh.  I have no doubt I’ve been openly rude to him, but it’s never been intentional, I’m just not good at pretending to be nice to people I don’t like.
I had to help in the warehouse once because they were short-staffed, but I didn’t have steel-toed boots, so I had to wear these awful fucking things:

They’re steel-toed shoe covers and they’re mustard yellow (the only plus).  He laughed every time he looked at my feet and when he saw me taking a picture of them said “Be sure to send them to your friends [ah-he-he], tell them it’s the latest fashion”.  That alone “latest fashion”, I can’t, I just can’t even get started on shit like that.  Not five minutes later after one bad joke, “Did any of your friends say anything, you’ve gotta show me the text message when they respond”.  Jesus dude, seriously?
One might come to the conclusion that he’s lonely — no, that’s not the case.  I met his girlfriend at the Christmas party last year, her hair was bleached to troll-doll status and she had more lipstick on her teeth than her lips.  She wore some awkward, turquoise sequined sleeveless top with a white skirt that had the most dizzy wave-pattern on it you’ve ever seen.  She was friendly enough, but one of those people where it was obvious she was constantly grasping for things to talk about.
I just don’t know how people get to be 45 (or however old he is) and it seems no one has mentioned to him “hey, you’re not foolin’ anyone pal, we see you striving for attention, sit down and take a breather, I know you must be exhausted from running your mouth”.   Just being in his presence is exhausting.  Not only due to his incessant ramblings but also a result of all the insults flying through your head when he’s anywhere near you.
I just… just can’t… there are no more words.  Damn you John Pigeon, I just really don’t like you.