Gun Control means Hitting Your Target

Wow! Today is so fun.

I don't usually like to talk about this kind of stuff because one never knows when her blog will be found by coworkers or bosses, but I have to get this off of my chest or I swear to God I'm going to beat the shit out of somebody.

At my job, we do both service and sales for a nationwide cell company infamous for their shitty customer service. It's very fast paced, and I make commission for sales, so the money isn't too bad. Also, when I leave the office for the day, I can truly unplug. Any problems that my customers experience can definitely wait until tomorrow. If they can't? Well, customer service is 24 hours, why don't you try them?

Part of our service department depends on technicians who analyze and fix phone problems. One of our longterm techs, who was socially retarded but a genius with technology, recently got another job, and my company hired his younger brother as his replacement.

His younger brother is lazy, slow, and unwilling to learn. We might have 10 phones sitting in the back for repair, and brother will be looking at a video game forum. I need to go smoke right now because otherwise I'm going to strangle him.

"Have you seen this phone?"

"Wha?"

"Phone. The one you were just working on. Is this it?" I said pointing at a phone. "Is this one it?"

"How would I know?"

"Because you were just working on it."

"Well, I dunno. Maybe [coworker] took it."

So I called the phone number.

I then went into the back. "Hey, a second ago, did this phone ring?"

"I dunno."

"It's right..." I refrained from saying 'fucking' "...in front of you."

"Well I don't know."

"Is there anything you *do* know? Jesus!" And I kind of stormed my ass out of there.

That wasn't very professional. I know, but I'm snapping here. I understand if people are disabled, but here is an able-bodied (and presumptively able-minded) 19-year old, punk ass kid, who doesn't give a shit.

I don't know what's worse though--dumbass punk, or the "service manager" who doesn't do a goddamn thing when it comes to punk's slacking, who sits in a tunnel-visioned bubble all day, and unless I practically shake him out of his reverie, he seems to remain clueless to the chaos for which he's responsible. Grr! Normally, the manager is a very astute person, clever, hard working. I can't believe that he's turning what seems to be a blind eye to this situation.

Seriously, people. I'm almost at my breaking point.

I need to win the damn lottery.