Be Rude to Secretaries Day

Apparently, it's Be Rude to Secretaries Day, that beloved holiday where I take all kinds of shit for no apparent reason and very little pay. Happy BRSD to me!

All of the below conversations happened in the same hour.

Exhibit 1:

Caller: Is Attorney X there, it's very common first name.

Me: (My boss' office has a glass wall facing me. I can see Attorney X in there with my boss and the door is closed.) I'm sorry, Attorney X is in a meeting.

Caller: He just called me!

Me: (I know he's been in there for half an hour.) I am, at this moment, looking at him in a meeting. He's been in there for half an hour.

Caller: I'm his brother! I told you that!

Me: Would you like me to take a message?

Exhibit 2:

We have an attorney that is of counsel to the firm. Essentially, he pays us rent to use an office in our building and be on our letterhead. We do take messages for him, but that's the limit of what firm secretaries are supposed to do for him. Mind you, of counsel's office is literally a two minute walk from my desk.

Caller: Is of counsel attorney in?

Me: (transfers call to of counsel secretary. the call comes back, which means, for whatever reason, she couldn't pick it up.) His office isn't picking up, would you like me to take a message?

Caller: This is really important, where is of counsel secretary?

Me: I don't know. She isn't able to pick up, would you like me to take a message?

Caller: Go find her! This is important! It's your job to do this!

Me: Actually, that's not my job. It is my job to take a message. Would you like me to do my job?

Caller: *click*

Exhibit 3:

Caller: Is Attorney X in?

Me: He's on the phone, would you like me to take a message?

Caller: I've left four messages and he hasn't called me back. Do you think it's worth it for me to leave a message?

Me: Sir, I can take a message or not, what would you like me to do?

Turns out, Caller No. 3 hasn't paid his bill in over 9 months.

I can't tell you how happy I am it's Friday.

Brutally Honest and Operative Words

Apparently, my hair looks like this today.

I truly hate the brutally honest. They're always so proud of their honesty, as if "honest" were the operative word in that phrase.

Hey, I like honesty. I certainly don't like being lied to, and I have enough short term memory loss to make lying an activity I can't reliably engage in, but not all honesty is necessary or desirable. I'm not even talking about theoretical Jews in hypothetical attics, I'm talking about hurting someone's feelings for no benefit.

Look, if a friend of mine modeled a low cut blouse that they were very proud of and then mentioned they were wearing it to a job interview, I would tell them, gently, that while the blouse is fabulous and they look fantastic in it, not appropriate for a job interview. That's beneficial.

There is absolutely no benefit to walking up to someone having a bad hair day and loudly asking "What did you do to your hair?!"

It's curly hair, it's humid, the results can be a bit unpredictable. And large. I don't get days off for bad hair days, I can't wear a baseball hat, so there it is. I left the house telling myself it wasn't that bad, don't worry about. Then I get this:

What did you DO to your hair?!

WHAT did you DO to your hair?!?!?!

WHAT did you DO to your HAIR?!?!??!!?!?

I patted my hair a bit, not that patting is likely to help, and muttered something. I may actually have muttered "asshole", but old lawyers don't have the best hearing.

WHAT?!

"I'm having a bad hair day," I explained, unable to look up from my desk. Like prairie dogs of humiliation, several of my coworkers had popped up over the tops of their cubicles to look.

"Oh, I thought it was a new style. Are you sure you didn't stick your finger in a light socket?"

Really, I did not think it was that bad, but there's the rest of my day. Shamefacedly trying to hide my hair by staring at my desk or my feet, because if I can't see anyone else, I can't see them seeing me.

So do me a favor. If you can't think of something nice to say, don't fucking say anything, because the operative word in the phrase "brutally honest" isn't "honest", it's "brutal".

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Whatever You Do, Do Not Click On That

I have got to stop clicking on trending topics on twitter. Seriously. I already know how stupid people can get in 140 characters or less, I don't need another object lesson. So of course I clicked on #whatdowomenwant.

First off, in case you can't figure out what women want, we're not a fucking alien species. We're people. We want what people want. Just remove anything you want concerning your penis and you know what women want. It's not like trying to figure out what a stingray wants.

Here are a long list of things women do not want, as brought to you by people for whom 140 characters are just too dangerous:

A mirror n perfect position so she can watch herself get pipe'd dwn

I honestly don't know what that means, and I'm okay with that.

well if they like me...another fine ass woman lol!

Um, okay then. Really, I'm totally past this LEZBOS R HAWT!!1!! (but those gay guys need to die) thing.

what they can't have

Women say they want nice guys and then they dump me for someone else! It's almost like I'm not nearly as nice and sane as I think I am. No, it's totally the women. The crazy, crazy women.

Love & Effection . lmao sike! more like Money & Purses

Yes, we're gold-digging whores! All of us! We want money and things to put money in! HAHAHAHAHA.

Although, upon reflection, I certainly don't want "effection", whatever that is.

every GYATDAUM thing....sheit!!!!

Dude, how about spelling? If you're going to be a misogynistic asshole, at least spell properly. (And please, do not tell me what "GYATDAUM" means.)

a wedding

Here's a fire. Die in it.

to make ppl believe they don't suck guys off

What? When did oral sex become unacceptable behavior for women? Did I not get the memo? Not that I want to give this guy any.

what every other woman has :)

We're greedy. Greedy, gold-digging whores. Who lie about oral sex. And like weddings.

Kitchen gloves and a iron board.

Whatever would one do with an iron board? Now, an ironing board, sure.

To be like Kim Kardashian. Not work n date celebrities.

I now officially hate humanity.

Well, At Least It All Makes Sense Now

I am a cynic. I am surprised by selflessness, not that I don't ever practice it myself, but I certainly look for greed and fear and hatred first when assessing motivation. Emphasis on greed. So this did not take me by surprise.

In 2008, as the financial crisis raged, the stock market hit bottom and the Great Recession ate into the economy, the number of millionaires in the United States plunged.

But last year the number of millionaires bounced up sharply, new data show.

And after that decline and rebound, the millionaire class held a larger percentage of the country's wealth than it did in 2007.

. . .

The boom didn't reach all parts of the population. For the middle class, home values account for a larger slice of a family's wealth than they do for the rich. And unlike stocks, home values remain at or near the lows they reached after a painful crash.

In fact, real estate and other hard assets, such as $200,000 cars, aren't reflected in Boston Consulting Group's report. Had they been, the financial condition of ordinary Americans would have appeared even worse.

Well then. Suddenly tea parties and class warfare and tax cuts for the wealthy in the middle of the worst economic climate since the Great Depression make sense.

And people wonder why I don't see "socialist" as an insult.

These People Think They're Funny

I would like to explain something about social interactions between people at different social positions, specifically as it relates to work. I find myself, on a regular basis, laughing at rude comments clients make because I have to. Your insinuation that I am not doing my job properly because I can't pull my boss out of my pocket exactly when you would like to speak to him is not funny. It's really obnoxious, in fact. The only reason I don't tell you off is because I need my job. Don't assume my laughter means you're funny. The same applies to waitresses, cashiers, etc.- anyone who has to be polite to you to keep their job.

Now, here's that exchange from the perspective of the guy who thinks he's funny.

Last week the LTR and I were visiting a retail establishment. As I’m making my purchase I start giving the checker girl a hard time. It started after she apologized for how slow the line was moving. I’d been watching her as she was a cute athletic blond with a nice shape. She had a kind of maladroit composure that I found somewhat endearing. I chided her for a lack of efficiency.

Yeah that feels great. It feels utterly great to be told by customer #1,296 that you're not doing your job fast enough. Trust me, you just made that cashier's day worse, but that's okay cuz ur funny!

She protested that she was only a trainee. I riposted that would explain her lack of competency at the moment, which got a laugh out of her.

Again, she doesn't think you're funny. She thinks you're an asshole, but nobody works as a cashier who doesn't really need the money, so she laughs.

I looked at the other gal

WOMAN

that was helping her and asked her if she was the party responsible for making sure the new girl was doing her job properly. She gave me a wide smile and said she was. This opened the door for me to playfully shift all the blame to this woman who was managing the situation. The whole interaction continued for several minutes.

Playfully, you see. Playfully riposte and shift and give a hard time to two women making minimum wage at a sucky, sucky job. Two women who have to deal with assholes like you all day for little pay and crappy benefits. Yeah, you're fucking hilarious.

Asshole.

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