Saturday, January 31, 2009

Anti-Corporate Terrorism

I just spent several minutes reading this and laughing myself nearly to unconsciousness.  Recommended.  Thanks to parallax adjustment for the tip.

I once worked at a place that could have seriously used someone like this.  Our manager was a woman who would walk onto the tech floor and shriek my supervisor's name--and she always did it right next to my cage.  Sometimes her shriek would make me jump so hard I would drop stuff on the floor.  She loved to hear the sound of her own voice, but she didn't want to hear anyone else's.  So to prevent us from calling for our supervisor when we needed help, she put red lights on the outside of all the cages* and made a rule that we had to turn on the red light when we needed the supervisor.  But of course, he was usually in his own cage doing his own work, so we almost always ended up calling out, "Hey Greg, my red light's on!"

Our rebellion was not quite so dramatic as that.  Someone put a sign up over the urinal in the restroom that said "DO NOT FLICK BOOGERS ON THE WALL" or something like that.  So naturally, we freakin' covered that sign with boogers.  Then we started on the wall.  One day the quality control guy, who had shall we say aspirations, decided to narc.  He showed the manager all the boogers, and she freaked out.  A little while later, she was talking to her boss on the phone and somehow let the booger problem slip out.  It struck him as so stupid for her to be worked up over boogers on the men's room wall when she could have been worked up over production and quality control that he laughed at her, and then told everyone at HQ about it.  She became a laughingstock in the whole company.  So we had a meeting and she chewed us out.  The booger problem ended, but was replaced by a mysterious rain of empty sunflower seed shells everywhere.  This also made her nuts.

The best strike against her was parking-related.  There were too many of us in this little business park and there wasn't enough room for parking.  The other businesses kept complaining about us so many of us ended up having to park about a hundred yards away in the back end of the park where there was no lighting.  We would run down there during our 6:30 PM lunch break (I worked 2:30 to 11:00 PM at that time) and move them up close to the shop since by that time of day everyone would be gone.  The manager and all the other "fronters" worked a regular 8:00 to 4:00 shift.  Our manager was lazy and obnoxious, and started parking in the handicapped spot near the door of the shop, "because nobody ever uses it anyway."  One day she went outside to find a $200 ticket on her windshield.  We didn't have a meeting that time, but she did stomp around the rest of the day glowering at everyone.  I don't know who called the cops on her, and it's quite possible that it wasn't even one of us--it could have been someone from the several other businesses there.  But we all thought it was hilarious and it improved morale greatly for a few days.

*We worked inside radio-proof screen rooms, which we called cages.


  1. OK, you've piqued my curiosity. What kind of job requires radio-proof rooms? I know some do because I remember hearing about such screened rooms before, but for the life of me I can't recall where I heard about them or why they are necessary.

  2. They are necessary if you are testing the sensitivity of radio equipment. I repaired pagers at this place, back when people used pagers that could still be repaired. Since many of the pagers operated on frequencies that were used in the local area, we had to use the screen rooms to prevent interference.

  3. Dave at silvercreek78250 tried to leave a comment, but was having technical problems, so he emailed this to me instead. So I'm posting it as a comment.
    In the early 1980's on Security Hill, there was a guy known as "The Mad Crapper". He always took a dump on top of one of the phone booths they had in a hall way. I know it sounds crazy today, (not the guy crapping on the phone booth, but the fact that we had a phone booth), but back then people didn't have phones on every desk, so you were required to make personal calls out in the hall way.

    Anyway, this guy would leave little notes attached to a wooden Popsicle stick actually planted in the turd. The sign would read "Mad Crapper strikes", or things like that.

    Now keep in mind, people weren't in the habit of looking on top of the phone booth for anything, much less new activity, but after about a month of this happening with some regularity, the Security Hill Elite Guard proposed a stake-out of the hallway.

    Sure enough, some guy who apparently worked the midnight shift in the Comm Center, came down the hall and grabbed a box that was nearby and made his way to the top of the booth and commenced to unfasten his fatigue pants.

    I don't know the veracity of the statement, but I am told by a well placed source that the Elite Guard member aimed his M-16 at the squatting NCO and said, "Don't pinch that loaf."

    Busted in the act and with a Popsicle stick sign, the "Mad Crapper" was found to be disturbed (ya think?) and subsequently honorably discharged from the Air Force.