Adding Insult to Injury

At work, I have this uncanny knack (gift, really) of delivering what I promise. Yeah, yeah, yeah - I know, must be a character flaw or something. Chuckling and snorting aside, the REAL problem is more clearly divined when the expectation I create in the minds of others is not fleshed out in the hands-and-feet of others.

Seems like - for the sake of expediency - that professionalism is offered upon the altar of business as a shortcut-sacrifice. Why can't people be professional? Or, better yet, why can't people keep their word. Horton (the Elephant) had it right...

I mean, why can't people - I don't know - possibly for spits and giggles - tell the truth? Wouldn't that be refreshing? Imagine... being told over the phone that the surveys you needed loaded to the Internet website A.S.A.P. were going to be loaded next week instead, and (adding insult to injury) being told this after she drops a query in your lap which she needs A.S.A.P.? Talk about cognitive dissonance!

Truth is so overrated... If I could wave the proverbial "magic wand" and make certain phrases, certain conventions disappear, these would be the ones:

The Seven Depressing Sins at the Workplace

1) "I'll have it for you first thing in the morning." ~ First off... my morning starts at 5:15 a.m., when I proactively (and with great emotional strain) ignore my two alarms. Secondly, I report to the office sometime between 7:10 a.m. and 7:30 a.m. - one of the faithful (foolish?) few found floundering for fixes to final forgotten forms from the day 'fore. And, lastly, unless you are my employee (and, most of those promising me this aren't), why should you acquiesce to my request?

2) "We only need a minute of your time." ~ If klaxons and red light 1960's plastic panels aren't flashing as your office buckles under the throes of photon torpedoes... uh, belay that metaphor, hard to port, full impulse... I know it's "understood" that nothing is truly going to take merely 60 seconds of my overrated time; but, just once, I'd like to pull out the minute (hour) glass from a Boggle game, flip the empty-end down and shout "GO!"

3) "Let me know if there's anything else you need." ~ This ranks up there with the waitress at everyone's favorite dive taking a dive into oblivion when you need her the most (i.e. someone technicolor-yawns on the table top, inverts their full glass of water on a paper coaster after leaving the tip in it, etc.). The best way to circumvent getting left in the void of your panic is to ask them then-and-there while you're thinking about it... before they escape.

4) "I'll pray for you." ~ Now, you might be saying, "Ralph, that there's for church." My dear, deceived, naive one (bwa-ha, ha, ha)... you are in the South, friend. And, in the South, we don't need four stained-glass walls or Facebook to promise the moon-and-the-stars - we can do this at work, too! See my other post "Southern Convention"

5) "Could you do me just one favor?" ~ Being a literal-minded middle-aged man, I "see" words. My first (albeit, irresistible) reaction would be to say, "Yeah, I COULD." so as to elicit the proper word (e.g. Would); but, I'd probably be more predisposed to counter with "Only one? Is this going to be the LAST one?" Instead, I pull my pulse down past my pupils and politely present a "I'll see what I can do - what is it?" And, no, my friends, it never ends. It's a hole with no bottom.

6) "I didn't receive it." ~ I use to know this one gal at work who'd always volunteer this patent answer, as if it was "fire insurance" she bought on her way to Hell - never could figure her out. Invariably, it would always "miraculously" wind up in her INBOX. How did I get her to "come 'round", you ask? Why, by simply asking her the same question (again) via e-mail... and copying her boss.

7) "Listen, you need to..." ~ Direction, purpose and the global view are all things I don't mind being "told" to me. How to balance my budget, make other functional areas (e.g. IT, procurement, HR, et al) do their jobs (or do their tasks for them)... entirely another matter altogether. If you're a RESOURCE, then BE all that you can be... just don't be my SUPERVISOR in the process... already got one... and you can't have him! Just don't presume to be in my chain-of-command (read: food chain) when it suits your preferences because you're too gun-shy about rectifying a bad communication issue - that didn't involve me to begin with - in the other functional area. Work it out, Ice, work it out.

Guess I shared all that to say this... If wishing and hoping filled up my hands, I wouldn't be able to get my work done. So, LORD help those who think they're helping me realize they need help, too. MMLIA

No, You Cannot Drive My Car

I shall attempt to restrain myself - lyrically speaking - from citing some dated (e.g. 1980's) references to "driving" throughout this particular day's tirade.

Given the swath of construction (or may I say, DESTRUCTION) along a nearby work zone... and the chaos which ensues periodically, compliments of the uneducated masses brandishing pieces of state-issued plastic, like miniature WANTED posters for which the rest of us would do well to heed - zip precariously along an otherwise placid (read: tedious) commute to-and-from a blessing of a job in (what I UN-affectionately refer to as) 'the biggest small town in America'... or, at least, the largest low-density piece of sprawl south of the Mason-Dixon line. Yes, that capitol of all-things-podunk... known for its infamously lukewarm (albeit, surreal) moniker: Columbia, South Carolina.

All that (whew) to say this...

There are several ways to cluster - and even FEWER ways to understand them - the types of motorists. Note to the wise: I did not refer to 'licensed drivers' because it would blaspheme the SC Department of Motor Vehicles, even though to pass a driver's skills test in this state could be done by anything breathing possessing an I.Q. of Forest Gump.

More to the point...the three types of motorists: the cynic, the sarcastic and the passive-aggressive.

Now, depending on a multitude of factors, i.e. our mood, volume of traffic, times of the day, amounts of testosterone (or estrogen - both in sufficient quantities can have a brain-numbing effect), etc... we ALL fall (fail?) into one or more of these proverbial 'car camps', at any given moment motoring.

The question begs... which are YOU?

To answer this earth-shattering question, scores of scientists did (not) work round-the-clock, probing the data with an unending slew of questions, and we have (not) enlisted the aide of a large moose and his best pal, a flying squirrel. Instead, as we tend to do, we just resisted the urge to be flatulent until some other sound was perceived as being halfway intelligent, rolled the dice on the probability that you'd buy it, rented some 1:00 a.m. second-rate television channel air time and sold it for $19.95 to the unsuspecting masses... ooo, wait, wrong blog (my bad).

So, there are CYNICS... those who think people are only motivated by selfishness and do not trust in sincerity, the integrity or compassion of others.

And, there are the SARCASTIC... those who say-one-thing-mean-another to poke fun of or express their utter distaste in something

But, most importantly, you have the PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE... those who act out aggression in a way that obstructs or ignores any repercussions

Hypotheticals, to teach us to deal with the following:

1) Blind Spot Ninjas - ever been crept up upon by someone, at a high rate of speed, only to have them find that 'sweet spot' where they hover, like a humming-turd? Aggravating and scary, all at the same time, right? Here's how our panel cures their ills... 

the Cynic: "You're just wanting me to feed your narcicism and stare at you, huh?"

the Sarcastic: "Far be it for me to ever want to change lanes without first seeking your permission."
the Passive-Aggressive: (starts drifting into the Ninja's lane until horn blows)

2) Chronic Tailgaters - the three things you don't want to see when you look in your rear view mirror: a cop with blue lights churning, projectile vomit from a kid in the backseat, and projectile vomit when you thought the car was an easy mark... just kidding, I'll drop off 'Junior' at Junkie Moe's and leave a note stapled to his forehead (jk, really). By the way, and for the record I love kids and have a spotless record (with the DMV and Law Enforcement) - this is off-beat, I know. So, what do our judges say? 

the Cynic: "Oh, I took your spot, how selfish of me."
the Sarcastic: "Oh, I would be more than happy to get out of your way."
the Passive-Aggressive: (takes foot off gas, slows down to 35 in a 60, waves cheerfully as Tailgater whizzes by)

3) Slalom Olympians - I don't know if it stemmed from too much "Top Gun", "Cars" or "Fast and Furious"... but Americans are in a RUSH. Well, we have a need for speed - it's called a 'death wish'. Any-who, it's bad enough people pass me - as I go the speed limit - like I was standing still... to add injury to proverbial insult, they have to act like the other motorists are orange cones set up along the concrete (asphalt) for their amusement. Let's hear our experts chime in... 

the Cynic: "What was I thinking... you wanted a stationary object to course around - I'm SO selfish."
the Sarcastic: "Hope it's a boy!" (veiled reference to racing to the Delivery Room of a local hospital)
the Passive-Aggressive: (cuts on opposite turn signal, and drifts in other direction while Olympian approaches)

4) High-Beam Rangers - I use to think this strain of the inbred only reared its vile form during the twilight and dark. No, ever since those Canadians implemented "day time running lamps" and the American populous thought THAT would be a great idea... you can find yourself blind at high-noon on a cloud-riddled day thanks to forgetful motorists amongst us. After Dear Abby rejected our letter, let's see what Miss Manners has to say... 

the Cynic: "I have obviously offended you and I beg the Prima Donna's indulgence."
the Sarcastic: "Thanks - never had the time to go to a tanning bed and do it right."
the Passive-Aggressive: (cuts off all lights, lays on horn and comes to a screeching halt... then cuts on all lights again)

5) Highway Drifters - Highway, not High Plains - although with the total disregard for public (and apparently their own) safety, this sub-culture which seeks its thrills with seeing how many pairs of underwear they can soil, or their simply trying to multi-task BEFORE going to work. Although I suspect the majority of these off-lane offenders do so unintentionally... its the one's who daringly drift during daybreak, en route to who-knows-where which are the most alarming. Figure if THEY don't have anywhere to go, they're more apt to swap paint with you and I. Survey says... 

the Cynic: "What can I do to please you, drive with two wheels up on the guard rail - would that give you enough space?"
the Sarcastic: "No, I wouldn't call what you're doing 'passive-aggressive'..."
the Passive-Aggressive: (opens car door closest to Drifter, cuts on high-beam lights and starts shaving)

So, which am I? Well, I suppose (most of the time) you tend to find me firmly ensconced somewhere between the sarcastic and the passive-aggressive... I'll come up with something "brilliant" to say and will only act on it if the conditions are "perfect" - cause I'm too pretty to go to jail, just ask my wife.

So, yes, I am the perfect 'motorist' - I levitated into the DMV, smiled and angelically drifted out of there with my license, some (ahem, cough-cough) years ago. Always vigilant, prepared to share my angst of other motorists WITH other motorists... until I realize that my pastor-elder is rapidly coming up from behind me. MMLIA