Lunch time at the Kennel

The office went out to lunch yesterday. One of the lesbians in the office -- the one whom I had a public (assuming you read it) tiff with on the blog -- was leaving, so we all went out to lunch for her last day. Let me say, she was always one of my closer friends in the office, so I am sad to see her go. The Collar and Voodoo stayed behind, most likely because the tension between them and other members of the office is through the roof and a sit down meal just would have been too much.

The meal had it's standard small talk, similar to that of most offices. Who's gay? Who's a lesbian? Who's bisexual? A couple of the selected answers -- from the experts in the office.

Kevin Spacey -- Yes, Russel Crowe -- No, Harriet Miers -- No, Sheryl Swoops -- Yes, easy one!
Fernando Ferrer -- Bi, Mike Piazza -- Yes, Our Waiter -- Yes, Condolleza Rice -- Yes.

The meal was just a mess from start to end. First off, I'm not a huge fan of Italian food. I feel like Italian food is something you should make at home, not go out for. It is too heavy and too cheese based. There are much better options. (Just call me Frank G. Zagat)

Some highlights ---

The Alpha Dog told us about his playwriting class. We were prying for some of the subject matter, but then realized that it probably wasn't appropriate for meal time conversation. I have disturbing confirmation that the words "stimulated" and "erect" are both in the play. (not making that up)

The most ardent femisinst in the office, an older lesbian who is really starting to drive me up a wall said -- when the side order of Italian meatballs arrived at the table "Make sure you grab the meat, before all the men do!"

New guy in the office, yet to find a nickname for him, got to experience the dynamics of the Kennel in full force. It will be interesting to see how he fares in the dynamic in the office -- it is not an easy place to work. However, he did show up late with a swollen lip, so you got to question that a little bit.

We tried to order Vegetarian Lasagna, the Italian restaurant didn't have any. I found this strange.

At one point the woman (the same one with the quote above) grabbed our waiter and said "We haven't got our food yet" we ordered 5 minutes earlier.

The Igloo came back for lunch -- haven't seen him since, he left. And other than losing fodder for this blog, haven't missed him.

Not a great post -- I'll try better next time.

Frank

More Notes from the Kennel

As previously hinted at on this page, the Alpha Dog takes a playwriting course. The course is basically Playwriting 101 for older adults. He has class every Tuesday night and of course, like every other good course, has assignments. Well his assignments have infiltrated the office. First off, I learned that the The Alpha Dog is writing a play about therapy. Bravo, Encore -- just what I've always wanted to see a play written by a politician about his experiences in therapy.

Well, the Alpha Dog's playwriting course has limited the amount of work he does even more than usual. For example, yesterday he did not come into the Kennel at all and spent the entire day writing his play from home. During the middle of the day the Alpha Dog was having problems with his Word Perfect (fucking word perfect) program and got Rocket on the phone to discuss adjusting the margins of his play with her. So Rocket is on the phone for, I kid you not, 45 minutes trying to adjust the margins of a computer program she doesn't know how to use. At one point she put the conversation on speaker phone so everybody in the Kennel could here the whining about tabs and margins. Meanwhile, the elderly woman that was in to discuss her Social Security problems sat in the office and read the New York Post.

All was not done, about an hour later the Alpha Dog called back the office. I had the pleasure of talking to him and lo and behold, he needed more computer help. He couldn't figure out how to get to the top of the next page on his computer - I told him to click enter a few times.

Anyhow - I found a section of the play.

Ralph sits alone on the couch, a tear rolls down his eye. The office is sparse, there are copies of old magazines in one corner, a desk, two chairs and a couch -- blue leather. The office has wall to wall carpeting, yet there is a off color rug, possibly Turkish between the chairs and the couch.

Therapist enters stage left and sits down in one of the chairs, he crosses his legs:

Ralph: He never loved me, all his love was directed towards that fucking slut -- the tool, the bimbo. That no good bitch. He left me for her -- I gave him my best years and now, he left me -- he left me for a woman. That rat bastard, if I could only get my hands on him.

Therapist: It's okay, to be mad Ralph. It's part of the healing process. Soothingly You're in a safe spot now -- you are okay.

Ralph: Safe spot, I thought I was in a safe spot during our holiday in Ipanema. That was safe! Our weekends in the Catskills were safe. You know what isn't fucking safe? -- His skull!!!

Yup welcome to the kennel!!!

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In other news -- I'm concerned about my health.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20051024/hl_nm/unfair_boss_dc;_ylt=AtVVYZ8ncf2i4GBT3vLBQaQDW7oF;_ylu=X3oDMTBiMW04NW9mBHNlYwMlJVRPUCUl

Riding the Elevator

Somehow in this abyss that is blogging, I lost a post. Needless to say it was by far and away the greatest post ever composed, by anyone that ever dreamt of blogging on the world wide web. I'm devastated -- I know how Portugal felt when they lost Cape Verde.

While I discuss the Kennel often, I rarely go beyond the walls of the office to explore the building and neighborhood around us. I'll give you a quick overview. I work in an awful area that is dominated by fast food restaurants, dirty book/video stores, a methadone clinic (Igloo once asked what methadone was) and little stores that sell umbrellas, I love NY T-shirts, and other poorly made crap.

The building is rather tall and the elevators work sporadically. There are three elevators in the building and often times the number displays (i don't know if that's what you call it) skip floors or randomly display the wrong floor. It is very disconcerting to be riding the elevator and have the floors go from 5 to 2 arbitrarily.

Earlier this week I walked into the building to find a sign posted all over the lobby that said something to extend of "Freight Elevator Operator Chris Abrahimi is no longer an employee at such and such management company he is no longer associated with the building." Well, this caused some stir in the office and we all debated on what may have been the reason for the firing.

Chris routinely got drunk in the freight elevator, you could smell booze on him down the hall. He had tag sales right outside the office building, selling office furniture and anything else he could find. He once offered me a vacuum cleaner for 20 dollars. He brought his little black puppy to the office and let it wander around the halls. On a couple of occasions you could smell grass drifting from the freight elevator. He played incredibly loud reggae throughout the building. Once I witnessed a screaming match between him and someone that worked in the office.

But the straw that broke the camel's back was he owed thousands of dollars to people in the office building. (Voodoo went searching for the gossip and she "Found Otto who gave her the info." I don't know who Otto is, but I guess he's the man with information). Voodoo came back to the kennel and recalled about the time that she lent Chris 20 bucks. "I had to hound that sonofabitch for weeks to get that money back. That brother fucked with the wrong person, you don't get between a person and his money."

So Chris is gone -- Otto's staffing the elevator.

Weekend Warrior

I am remarkably sick of doing the work of other people. This past weekend I was called into service to attend a Women's Conference early Saturday morning -- I don't know about you, but there are plenty of other of places I would have rather been on a Saturday morning, primarily my pillow. But no, Frank has to fill in for the not one, but two people at the Kennel that work directly with woman's issues.

Now, I'm all about being a team player, subbing for others when something comes up -- I've done it plenty of times and never complained -- but this Saturday was different. Nobody had a doctor's appointment, nobody was on vacation, nobody's cousin was having a bar-mitzvah, nobody was sick, what happend on Saturday was nobody was willing to do their job. The two people (both of whom I've subbed for on numerous occasions) just didn't feel like showing up and doing thier job.

Imagine this, you are supposed to go to a meeting -- decide that you are too busy or important to go and then just shove one of your colleagues off to fill in for you. I'd really want to work in an environment like this -- wouldn't you? Showing up at work today I cringed at the thought of being around either of them -- it was even more disturbing when they asked me how the conference was! I wanted to unleash my own form of feminism on both of them.

The event was a collection of crazy feminists preaching witty sayings like "The only bush I trust is my own". The event was complete with an aging feminist folk singer playing her acousting guitar and singing about how she missed Gloria Steinem. I consider myself a true feminist, but this just wasn't for me -- my legs were the smoothest in the entire room.

I did make up for my weekend workday. I took nearly 3 and half hours to stand in line and get tickets for a couple of concerts early this morning. I was running an errand ... the errand just happenend to take almost 4 hours. I strolled back into the Kennel, sat at my desk pulled out a zip lock bag and snorted 4 lines of cocaine.

A Return to the Kennel

Frank's been absent for a while. Chalk up the lack of blogging to Jewish Holidays and Columbus Day. Which, now that I think about it couldn't have come at a better time. Back to back short weeks have been spectacular, just what the body needed.

Other thoughts from my time away.

Summer Fridays are officially over. We tried to delay it as long as possible, but no longer are we allowed to escape early on Fridays. This came as a disappointment to the Kennel, however, I am happy to report that Winter Fridays start soon after Thanksgiving.

The hiring process is over. The Igloo's replacement has arrived. He seems like a good guy and will be occupying the desk right next to mine. Much to the disappointment of all, we didn't hire the rodeo queen. Personally, by the time hiring came around -- I didn't even know one candidate from the other. I just pitty the fool that takes this job. They have no idea what they are getting into.

However, word on the street is that we will soon have another vacancy in the office. For my money, the more that merrier. And I do say, that the Kennel, not the bossman, but the Kennel has been much easier to tolerate since the Igloo left. Maybe change is good -- it will create a better environment in the office.

I've been dealing with nuts a lot this past week. One notorious wack job, has been calling about an increased police state in her neighborhood. She says the cops constantly ignore her and that they make her life awful. Now, I'm not one that thinks all too highly of Cops -- but this woman is awful, she smells through the telephone and talking to her is a major chore. I get tense in the shoulders the minute she calls.

The animosity between two staff members is through the roof. When ever one isn't in the office (in fairness, she doesn't show up all that often and has never arrived before 11:30 in the morning) The Collar yells things, such as: "Does anyone have the number for Missing Persons?" or "How do I know if someone's been kidnapped?" Sometimes, he gets a little meaner and asks if "Know a guy that will kidnap people?"

The Collar is quite a character, he's generally a good guy, but he pushes the boundaries of Sexual harassment a little bit. He's started to call Rocket "pumpkin" and "sweetie" thankfully, she's handles it very well. I don't know if it is really sexual harassment, he's gay and she's a lesbian so this is no Anita v. Clarence, however nothing is funnier.

As this is a Jewish Holiday Season -- the Collar commented on the "Yamaha on your head." Yes, I'm wearing a keyboard on my head.

-- Frank

Long absence

I apologize for the absence in blogging. I was away for a few days and am back in the office again. The Alpha Dog, evidently, was a little disturbed that I took so much time (3 days) off. Hence, I got phone calls on both Tuesday and Wednesday from the Kennel complaining about this or that.

On Tuesday, The Alpha Dog was furious that his Playwriting Class (not making this up) was canceled. Evidently, the teacher canceled the class for Rosh Hashana and the Alpha Dog showed up, not knowing that the class was canceled. Instead of shrugging his shoulders and going home, like anyone else would have done -- he needed to release his rage someplace else and called me at 6:15 on Tuesday night as I was driving to my grandmothers, for our own Rosh Hashana meal. Bossman proceeded to complain -- in a rather hostile fashion -- that he missed his playwriting class and I hadn't gotten him the information that this would be canceled. Was this part of my job description? Do I need to find out that your playwriting class is canceled? Do you need me to fold your laundry for you too? How about making sure that you car has its gas tank full? If you run out of gas on the highway are you going to call and bitch that I didn't fill the tank up enough?

On Wednesday, I got two calls from the Kennel. The Alpha Dog made the office call me (he was "too upset to call himself") because there were meetings he needed me to cover and it was irresponsible for me to be away for so long and not figure out my work situation. I didn't care very much then and I don't feel bad now, it fact the whole thought that he was even calling me on a holiday I found remarkably offensive.

Other thoughts:

The highlight of recent times is that we've been interviewing people to fill in for the Igloo. We've had a couple of candidates that we've invited in for interviews. Amazingly people responded to the following job wanted ad.

Disfunctional Office looking for Staff Member to be ridiculed, unappreciated, and overwhelmed. Applicant must be willing to devote long hours, run personal errands and work in a kennel. Pay is commensurate with a part time position, even though we expect full time hours. Bonuses: endless supply of glue sticks. BA mandatory, marijuana Smoker a plus. Please send resume to outofyourfuckingmind@thekennel.com

The interview starts with the person meeting with the Alpha Dog. He is actually pretty tough in interviews, asking hard questions that try to shake the person a little bit. "What do you think should be done to Transgendered Hookers?"

After the Alpha Dog interviews the person, we all gather around a table and interview the person a little more. We try and be friendly and ask legit questions, but the job hurts us so much, we don't do a very good job masking it in interviews. The interviews consist of inside jokes and us lying about our work and responsibilities. We do say that the office can be frustrating at times. If I was the one being interviewed I would run for the woods.

However, if we told it like it was -- nobody would ever work here.

The other day we interviewed a Kansas Rodeo Queen. We've interviewed a very loud kid from California, he was very nervous and spoke really loudly and would laugh at inappropriate times. We interviewed a flaming gay kid. We interviewed some woman who's email was wisdompluswar@____.com. We interviewed another kid who had no goals and didn't want to do anything. We interviewed some jock whose only hobby was rugby.

We are going to call back three this week. The person will probably start by the end of November.

In other news, I'm starting to look for new jobs. Any help -- help Frank out.