On time and the New York Post

A crazy week in the Kennel. I've been remarkably busy, and a little bit overwhelmed as well. For better or for worse, work has forced me to spend a lot of time with the Alpha Dog (bossman) and I spent most of Tuesday with him. The day included an 8:30 school visit on the Upper West Side, the Alpha Dog hasn't shown up on time to anything in years. There have been times where he has been 90 minutes late to meetings and events (if he needed to cash a winning lotto ticket by 7:00 he'd show up at 7:45) -- you can only imagine my surprise when he pulled in at 8:45.

My 8:00 am phone call probably helped. The message I left went something like this (this is all true).

Hey Bossman, Get the Fuck out of bed, It's time to go to work today, we've got to visit a school, I know its early, but your the (insert position here) so get to work.

Later in the day the Alpha Dog asked me to try and reserve a field for his friends to have a bachelor party. No analysis necessary ...

The highlight of my day, however, occurred the when Donald Trump appeared on the cover of the great New York establishment, the New York Post. Donald, a most odious figure, seems to have found a couple of minutes out of bankrupting companies and building irresponsibly to impregnate his wife. (It is amazing to think that the Post used to be a liberal paper and now this has turned into front page news.)

Well the picture of Don on the cover really got our office going. Most people, myself included, remarked about how we hate Donald or hate the Post. However, Voodoo commented that she hopes that the baby doesn't have "asshole lips like its father." I thought that this was some sort of slang insult that I've never known, like "Your mama's got asshole lips" or "The Los Angeles Lakers are bunch of asshole lips" However, it turned out that she really just thinks Donald Trump's lips look like an asshole. I've heard people say that people look like a prune or a rabbit or a mouse or a beachball but I've never, ever heard that someone has lips like an asshole.

If that wasn't enough, Rocket really enjoyed Voodoo's statement and started to sing a made up song that consisted of two words "Rectum Face" She spend a few minutes talking about a rectum face and then returned to work.

Yup, this is an office people, just another day in the life of the kennel.

Notes from the Kennel

Just a quick update for (all) you loyal reader(s):

Yes, last Friday was another early Friday. We've officially started fall and we are still departing early on Fridays -- I venture to say that this was the most egregious early departure ever. At one thirty, people stood up and strolled out of the office. I doubled and even tripled checked that this was kosher and then, like Keyzer Soze, I was gone.

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I've been hearing from the one or two people that read this blog that I sound awful. I want to clarify that I actually do like the person I work for. I think he's a good man and has advanced spectacular causes. He continues to be a champion for those that don't have a voice and is very dedicated and committed to social justice.

All that being said ... I am remarkably fed up.

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The lack of comments on this board is very depressing. If you read, I'd appreciate the love, maybe some suggestions about what to write about, any questions about the way the office functions, maybe some specifics. Tell me to shove my moustache up my nostril, I don't care. I would like to thank the OCC for being the most frequent contributor (other than the spam, but thanks to spam too) Please check out his blog linked on the right side of this page.

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I now have the entire back corner to myself. The person that used to sit next to me (Rocket from here on out) moved to the Igloo's old desk. She now gets a desk, which is great -- finally after 14 months of working she gets her own desk, Rocket's moved up from the plywood fortress in the back -- soon she'll be able to afford real soap, up until now she's been stealing from the office bathroom.

I still have no desk, even though today I found one in the hallway. I feel like I'm in college and if you see something you just have to grab it and hope nobody catches you. Yup, no desk, no phone, no business cards,...

Welcome to the Kennel
We've got Fun and Games
We've got everything you want
Honey, we know the names
We are the people that can find
Whatever you may need
If you got the money honey
We got your disease

In the kennel
Welcome to the kennel
Watch it bring you to your shun n,n,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,n,,n,n,,n knees, knees

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Welcome to the kennel ... yes welcome to the kennel indeed ... why don't you come join us in the kennel, partner ... stay around for a while ... and as long as you are coming ... why don't you bring lunch ... we in the kennel love shrimp lo mein.

Drinking ...

This job could quickly drive a sober man to the bottle. Lucky for me, I've never really considered myself a sober man. My genealogy lines are connected through bottles of wine and I don't believe there is one member of my family that doesn't drink. We are definitely not a family of alcoholics, in fact we are remarkably responsible, but we do drink and we enjoy it.

Back to the job ...

As I've reported before, bossman is a recovering alcoholic, there are a couple of others in the office that won't touch booze and a few that I imagine drink rarely -- only at dinner parties or at a bar. I don't understand it at all. The only thing that gets me through the day is knowing that I'll have a Scotch on the rocks, a glass of wine or a beer waiting for me at the end of the day. Often times, I have more than one. On occasion I even have a drink during the middle of the day, see post Craptastic, (yes I know this is considered a sign of alcoholism ... but I like to describe it as therapy) yesterday happened to be one of those days.

Part of my responsibilities are to attend these viscous community meetings, in which people who only wish they were important whine and moan about anything and everything. These people truly hinder progress and innovation. For example one of the libraries in the area is trying to add a teen area, great idea right? Well not to community members who "don't want teens having sex in the library"

Furthermore, there is no issue too small or no issue too large for the community to get fired up about. Do you go to local community meetings to complain about the Chinese Government's persecution of Falun Gong? Neither do I!!!

Before yesterday's community meeting, I happened to stumble upon a going away party for a person that worked at a local university. I had communicated with the person about work occasionally, so I thought it was perfectly appropriate for me to attend the party. I wasn't on the list -- but please, a list for a party at 4:30 in the afternoon. Now, having few people to talk to and not really having a true reason to be at this shindig, and not wanting to schmooze amongst suit wearing white people, I befriended the food buffet and the wine/beer bar. I couldn't have asked for better companions.

Being the classy gent that I am I decided it would more sophisticated to go with Red Wine and avoid the beer. With my community meeting looming an hour away -- I slugged back 4 glasses. I also frequented the food buffet (roast vegetables, chicken skewers, shrimp cocktail, mozzarella and basil, cheese platters, etc...) enough so skipping lunch was acceptable and I didn't need to eat dinner.

The meeting still sucked and was painful ... but a little sleepy and a little happy from my earlier party crashing ... it may have been the best community meeting ever.

Craptastic ... 2

I'm not one to be very vulgar (that may or may not me true) but somebody left the most vicious turd in the bathroom the other day.

Now the bathrooms in our office are not very nice. There are two stalls in the men's bathroom, with no knee room and very little light. The toilet paper is like sandpaper and the sink doesn't work well. You have to hold the faucet while you try and wash your hands. It is really impossible to wash your hands well. Also, there are no urnials. Who makes a men's room without urinals -- which means that more often than not piss is all over the toilet seat.

Back to the vicious turd...

One thing that you probably don't know about me is that I have a really quick and fairly vicious gag reflex --- so strolling into the bathroom to take a piss was a most painful experience. I couldn't even spend a second in the bathroom, the smell was so violent that it felt as if an entire highschool football team smeared their feces all over a tiny closet. I then entered that closet.

It took me a good 20 minutes to recover and I'm close to gagging just thinking about that awful moment the other day. I can't write any more I'm feeling gnarly and ..........

(45 minutes later)

This was a very vulgar post, my apologies.

Once again

As discussed earlier, we have summer Fridays at the office (from now on the Kennel) until Labor Day. Last Friday, like the one before, we extended summer Fridays. We are now 2 + weeks past Labor Day and are still shrugging our shoulders on Friday afternoons and ducking out as early as possible. The highlight of last Friday came when Bossman strolled into the Kennel at about 1:30, as everyone else was packing up to go to lunch and then home, Bossman asked if we planned on coming back and without hesitation everybody said no. Two minutes later we left.

Now, I haven't worked in a ton of offices, but my guess is that you aren't supposed to leave 4 hours early, tell your boss you aren't coming back and then proceed to abandon him by himself in the office. Welcome to the Kennel.

Some other office notes ....

The animosity in the office is at an all time high. People are giving up. I'd say that there is one person that actually has no plans of leaving in the next 6 months. I am looking forward to hiring the Igloo's replacement, we have a couple of interviews on the horizon -- fresh blood to taint.

We all went to lunch again the other day. The conversation was as stale as circus pretzels. Nobody had anything to say to one another. I drank 2 Iced Coffees, which put my total for the day at 4. I'll blog about coffee in the future ... It really fits into my morning routine.

Bossman gave me some booze yesterday. Dooley's original Toffee and Vodka Liqueur which comes with two little liqueur glasses. It must have been a gift that Bossman found someplace -- the ironic thing is that he's a recovering alcoholic. Yes, my boss, the recovering alcoholic gave me booze. It takes every ounce of will power not to drink it during the middle of the day.

Bossman also brought in the Lesbian travel guide to the Kennel the other day. He stood in the middle of the office and read about the Lesbian scene in Kentucky, it was actually very amusing. The current sexual make-up of the office is 3 Lesbians, 2 gay men, 1 asexual, 1 gay intern and me. Despite the homosexual make-up of the Kennel -- I am straighter than ever. Nothing has kept me from sliding down that Kinsey scale more than being surrounded by these people. I don't think I'd mine being a Lesbian though!

Sucks ...

One of my favorite words in the English language is sucks. Sure it's simple, immature and rather bland, but on the whole it really conveys what you are thinking. When I lived in South America I was most disappointed that there was no Spanish equivalent for sucks. I guess at 26 years old I should have a more advanced vocabulary, but no, I return to sucks.

That movie sucked. The Mets suck. Long car rides suck. My job sucks. Stuck up girls who refuse to give you the time of day, and walk around like their shit doesn't stink sucks. Standing on the subway platform dripping in sweat from the 130 degree temperature sucks. You suck. He sucks. She sucks. I suck. etc....

The reason I bring this up, is because I got into a very awkward conversation about sucks in the office the other day.

But first a point of information about the office ....

One of bossman's friends (we'll call him The Collar) camps out in the office. I don't know what he does, I don't know how he got here and I say very few words to him. He sits at a computer, talks on the phone and pretty much ignores the entire office. Furthermore there is open animosity between our Chief of Staff and the Collar -- they don't even acknowledge that the other one exists. I guess, the Collar is some sort of bigwig in the New York Gay political scene. He likes theater.

Back to our story...

The Collar was standing at the copier, which is sort of near my desk and I made a comment, to nobody in particular "All the candidates for Mayor suck this year." (Sure it wasn't a very significant comment, nor did it shed new light on anything, kind of a throw away remark) I guess the Collar took issue to what I was saying. Our conversation went something like this

The Collar: Why do use that word like its negative?
Frank confused: What word?
The Collar: Sucks!
Frank: Huh
The Collar: It's a great word. So you shouldn't use it like it's negative.
Frank: Okay

The eerie part of the entire conversation was that, I think, he was truly analyzing my statement from some weird sexual angle. Which made me completely uncomfortable (which may or may not have been his goal). I returned to my computer ... and then vomited all over myself. Which really sucked.

The morning after

We in the political world are the most busy around election time which, in New York, happened to be this past Tuesday. The primary was mostly a remarkably lackluster affair. There are about 3 million registered Democrats in New York City and less than 500,000 of them voted. Which personally I view as a rather pathetic number, but not all that surprising.

I spent the day trekking to different areas of the city -- shilling for one candidate or another. I visited The Upper East Side, Sunset Park, Kew Gardens, Jackson Heights, Midtown and Forest Hills. It was a long and disgusting day, very sweaty and very disorganized. Most people were miserable -- I tried to connect with the average New York City voter, to be hung-up on, told to fuck-off, laughed at, mocked, grunted at and puked on. (Okay, nobody puked on me)

I don't really blame the lack of enthusiasm by the average voter -- I should have taken the day off!

I did go to one Victory party for a candidate that raised over 1 million dollars for his campaign. Bossman also showed up -- he lazed around all day watching reruns of 80's sitcoms, I kid you not. The place was jam packed with your usual assortment of political cock-suckers! (figurative and literal) I had been working for weeks on this guy's race and he won easily and raised over a million dollars!! I had been up since 5:30 am, and barely slept at all the two nights before.

Nevertheless, at our fancy East Side victory party, there was a cash bar. So I reached into my wallet and ponyied up 9 dollars for a Scotch on the rocks. (Do I complain about the cost of drinks too much?) A little love for the hard work would have been appreciated. I drank too much and realized by the end of the night that I had spent a weeks worth of Glue Sticks for some lousy Victory party. The best choice I made all evening was brown bagging a 24 oz Miller Light on the way to the party.

This blog has been on a depressing streak, loyal readers (both of you) I'll try and pick up the enthusiasm in a day or so.

Tomorrow's Friday -- maybe I'll leave early.

For the record, I went 1 for 5 on Primary Day with one walk. There were 6 races I didn't vote in one of them, lost 4 of them and won one of them. (finishing 4th of 4, 3rd of 6, 2nd of 2, 2nd of 2 and 1st of 10)! I also made two plays at second and was charged a bogus error when the shortstop forgot to cover second on an easy double play ball.

Friday No Show

We have this wonderful concept in my office called Summer Fridays. Every Friday from July 4th until Labor Day, we come in for only a half day. If you want to take a long weekend or play golf one afternoon -- it's fantastic. Last Friday, the first one post Labor Day, we were supposed to have a full day of work. We were all going out to lunch for the Igloo's last day and then we were all supposed to return to the office and finish our work day, which ends at 6. Well, we went out to lunch -- we were to meet at 1:00. I showed up at 1:10 with the Igloo. Voodoo showed up at 1:45 and Bossman (aka Politician X) showed up at 2:15. After we were done with lunch -- nobody went back to work, and nobody cared. Nobody even considered going back to work.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, but I found it somewhat funny, that everybody in the office, including all the bosses, just shrugged their shoulders and said "Fuck it ... I'm done for the Week!" Just a point of information, we are supposed to be public servants, we get paid by taxpayers.

I went home ate Shrimp Lo Mein and sniffed Glue Sticks!!

Craptastic ...

Bossman's (we need a new name for him, any suggestions?) dog took a crap in the office yesterday. I kid you not. Can we pause and reflect on this for a second. Bossman's dog took a shit on the floor of the office. Not to mention about 2 feet from where I work. This is an office, not a fucking kennel.

Needless to say this is not a healthy working environment -- call me old fashioned but having a dog crap in the middle of office is not very feng shui. Not only do I not have a phone, receive no light, have no true desk (my computer sits on a piece of plywood), purchase my own business cards, and get paid in glue sticks -- now I have to dodge dog shit when I walk around the office. Voodoo, a very nice woman who works with me, cleaned up the dog shit. Believe me, she doesn't get paid enough to be picking up dog shit in the office.

After the crap ... I said "Fuck this I'm outta here" and left to go get a beer at a local shitty Irish bar down the street, where they charged me 6 dollars for a pint of Killians. (I know its New York City, but this is a shitty bar and its 4 in the afternoon, 6 dollars -- help a broke brother out.) I returned about an hour later, I was very salty.

I was expecting bossman to apologize, but no -- he spent this rest of the afternoon ribbing me about how I hate animals and how I didn't care about the animals that have perished in the aftermath of the Hurricane Katrina. (Which I think is tragic by the way, I really do, the whole devastation is really unfathomable and the federal government's neglect and inaction is shocking. But I don't need to wax politically) I told Bossman, I don't hate animals, I just hate animals that shit in my office -- next to my pseudo-desk.

A Big Hello

The phone rings in the office all day long and people occasionally people stroll into our office unannounced. Usually the drop- ins or phone calls are miserable, painful experiences. We are bombarded by people that expect us to snap their fingers for them and make all of their problems go away. For example -- people call up and ask "Can you get me affordable housing in Greenwich Village?" (Right, I'm just sitting on apartments waiting for people to call me up and say, sure a 1 bedroom in The Village for $600 a month, no problem. Meanwhile I'm living on an airshaft, at the top of a walk-up, across from the Projects, with two other people and pay 800+ dollars a month.)

However, the Igloo really likes certain drop-ins. Whenever a coworker calls the office and he picks up the phone he yells their name really loud. This is an example of what happens when I call

Igloo: Bossman's Office (he doesn't really say bossman, but I don't want to get fired -- yet)
Frank: Hey Igloo, it's Frank.
Igloo: loud so the entire office can hear, not to mention the entire block and the crack whores that surround our building FRAAAANK
Frank: embarrassed Can I please talk to so and so!

The Igloo also really enjoys it when the mailwoman (is that the proper term) comes into the office. He usually screams really loudly, he doesn't know her name, HEEEYYY, or AHHHHH or somesort of exclamation with a lot of vowels. The mailwoman (who is remarkably nice) at first was startled and now, I assume, is kind of used to her greeting. Just another young white man
-- yelling at the black lettercarrier (that's the term I was looking for).

If nothing else the Igloo has spectacular enthusiasm!

Labor Day

I haven't been at work for a while, because of our day off (see the last post) on Friday and Labor Day last Monday. Nevertheless, I am back today and the panic, nausea, and disgust of being back in the City and back in front of the computer has hit. However, knowledge of a short week is what fuels me through the day.

The money issue is probably the hardest thing about this job. There isn't enough of it. As I predicted earlier, despite The Igloo's departure (see posts of a few days ago) and the work that will be dumped on my shoulders -- I shall receive no raise. Bossman called us into the office to tell us that we were doing a good job. He said he appreciated the work that we do --- blah blah blah, but he doesn't have the money to give us a raise.

The thing about my salary -- I get paid better than some others I know in the biz is that at 26 years old I thought that I would be able to purchase things without having to think twice. It would be nice to be able to buy a new pair of sneakers and not worry about my credit card bill. One of these days I'd like to be able to make an impulse purchase without stressing out over whether or not I can afford it. My primary luxuries are playing in an expensive basketball league and 2 ply toilet paper. Of course I gorge out on Shrimp Lo Mein.

My colleague and friend in the office has resorted to giving blow jobs for extra money. The great irony of this is that she is a lesbian --- Lesbians sucking cock for rent money -- only in New York City Politics.

Chatter

Lots of chatter and enthusiasm in the office today. Boss man treated us to lunch (he feels bad for something), half of the office ordered Chicken Pad Thai. Please --- Chicken Pad Thai, is anything more cliche. Chicken Pad Thai epitomizes lefty New York City. This is a dish that we think is ethnic and unique -- it makes us feel good about order "foreign" (foreign -- an awkward I before e word) food when there is really nothing special about the dish. You sure as shit aint showing me nothing by ordering Chicken Pad Thai. People have been eating forms of Chicken Pad Thai for years, long before there was a Lemongrass Grill on every little side street. I've never been to Bangkok -- but I'm guessing nothing is authentic about Chicken Pad Thai.

Top 5 pseudo lefty New York wanna be foreign foods: (I hate lists)

-- Pad Thai
-- Falafel
-- Mojitos (not a food, but you know what I'm getting at)
-- Sushi
-- Plantains

Other thoughts:

The best food ever is Shrimp Lo Mein. It's political season again in New York and every candidate should have Shrimp Lo Mein night. I'd work my ass off for everyone if you fed me with Shrimp Lo Mein. The Shrimp is good, the Lo is good and Mein is good.

My office is, remarkably, closed tomorrow, originally it was because there was going to be no water in the building. However, they fixed the problem and there will be water, so everyone could come to work -- but nobody is going to anyway. The igloo is gone. This is a true sign of a healthy office, all we are doing is trying to get out the door as quick as possible. Everyone -- from the bosses on down. Hell if the security guard stubbed his toe, they'd close the office.

Fuck it -- I'm off for Pad Thai
Frank