Ropes of Sand

al gore must be spinning in his grave...

"while in the bathroom, you notice a coworker has a gun in her purse. she says she only uses it for protection after work."

i came across this little gem yesterday, during the four hours of self-directed, online training i underwent for my minimum wage job. i realize that posting this hypothetical violates the acceptable use policy of the company —i was read a copy of this policy by a disembodied human resources henchwoman. the sadist who designed the system made it impossible to click through without listening to every last word, but it was worth it at the end; i got to print a certificate with my name on it and everything. for four hours, i watched classy animations made out of tasteful calligraphy, serif typefaces, and stock photography. one of the photos depicted a black man in a suit sharing a document with an asian woman. those two must work at a different branch, because everybody who works here is white.

i kind of just glazed over and stopped listening for a while, but i distinctly remember the computer telling me i had to adhere to "the code" under penalty of referral to the vice-president of finance. the training module malfunctioned, however, so no word yet on what is actually in the code to which I have pledged allegiance.

the greatest part is that for sitting at a computer and not choking myself to death with the chord of the mouse, i got paid thirty whole dollars! ironically, i felt a strong urge to use a gun after completing this training. i went shooting this morning (only paper plates were killed in the outing). is this how office rampages start?

the recommended action, by the way, is to immediately contact the vice president of finance, i guess to warn him that the lady flashing her pistol in the shitter wants to blow his fucking head off.

posted by chauncey swan @ Sunday, March 19, 2006