The Hound of Hell

I am the receptionist for an insurance/investment/mortgage firm as well as a real estate company. I don’t have much on my plate. I mail out mortgage letters once a week. I fax out group insurance requests once a week. I occasionally design business cards and marketing material for both companies. If I am lucky, I get to work on a mortgage. Once in awhile I am required to enter a new listing into the MLS database. I answer the phone. And as infrequently as I can manage it, I file. Before this I worked as a teller in a bank. I was much busier and made better money.

Even though a retarded monkey could perform my job, I try to take pride in what I do. To be honest I adore designing the business cards and marketing material. I’m an amateur but it’s fun nonetheless and the people I do it for appreciate it. Sorry, a little off topic. I try to be unfailingly professional. I am only human and once in a blue moon some dorksnorkle slips under the radar and manages to piss me off enough to make me forget myself. That being said my crimes against professionalism pale in comparison to some of the shit I have seen while I have worked here. I write about them today because there have been 3 such events in a very (unacceptably) short span of time. The same person is guilty of all three.

We received mail from a courier today addressed to one person. Another person entirely opened it.

While talking to a bill collector on the phone (yes, collector), a request was made by the collector for the name of the party he was talking to. The name was given several times and when it was apparent the language barrier was making the conversation difficult, the question was posed: “if you ask for information, then clean the crap outta your ears and listen”.

Finally, because this person is a very serious control freak, one requiring extensive psychiatric therapy in my humble opinion, completely ignored one of the boss’s clients. Why would she do such a thing? What could possibly be considered reason enough to ignore the client of the man that signs your paycheques? Because I was on lunch (which incites misery each and every fucking day, as if I am not entitled to it or rather the jealousy because Dani and I eat together every day), the real estate agent on duty greeted the potential client (in her eyes) when they entered the building. Upon discovering he was in fact a client of my boss's she looked to my co-worker for help. My co-worker simply shrugged and left the real estate agent to fend for herself. Having no knowledge of the boss’s whereabouts or what his schedule was she took the gentleman’s name and sent him on his way. When the name was relayed to my boss and his anger at having his scheduled client sent away was apparent, my co-worker hung the real estate agent out to dry. And the fuck of it is; she thinks her childish little display of passive-aggression was justified.

To add insult to injury: this woman’s mood swings makes the character Linda Blair played in The Exorcist look downright fucking playful. I am often left flummoxed, wondering what I could’ve possibly done to warrant the death stare and knife edge-like tongue.

When did professionalism and respect in the workplace become an option?

When I leave this place (and I will, it is only a matter of when now) it won’t be because of Narci , Dirk Diggler, or any other minions. It will be because of the soul sucking female in his employ.