Dear Girls Who Dress In Strange, Outdated Uniforms and Sell Overpriced (Yet Still D-e-lectable) Cookies For The Briefest Time Period EVER,
Let me teach you something about this magical world that you might, one day, experience (if I let you live that long)... a world called "pregnancy". You see, in this happy land of swollen ankles, cracked ribs, and food cravings so fierce that no purveyor of edibles is safe, the will of the pregnant woman = law. Please her, and you've saved your own life. In this magical world, Oh Toters of the Tagalongs, it's best to just give Mama what she wants... and, right now, Mama wants to get her hands on some Thin Mints. And Tagalongs. And Samoas. And Lemon Chalet Cremes. How am I supposed to accomplish this task when you only peddle your wares for all of THREE WEEKS A YEAR?!
The last I checked, the following issues apply to you:
1. You, too, are susceptible to this recession, Oh Darlings of Detestable Attire
2. You have a quota, sure, but you also have a soul. I hope.
3. You have parents... parents who should know how to read a freaking MAP.
I fail, then, to understand why you continue to limit your sales period to 3 - 4 measly weeks a year. Really... REALLY?!
However, since I have yet to consume a single, freaking cookie this year (see point DIRECTLY above) and still have my wits about me, I have brainstormed a (brief) list of solutions.
1. Up. Your. Sales.
- Notice how you're having to cut back on how many cookies you're able to produce every year? It's not because the Magic Flour Fairy forgot to wave her wand above the factory, or whatever other nonsense your Troupe Leader has filled your dainty-hatted heads with... it's because your prices are too high, and your selling period is too short. I mean, think about it: You're badgering me to pay $4 for a box of cookies that will, in all humiliating honesty, last all of 2 blocks from store-to-home (1 block if there are traffic lights on that particular road), and you're only available for 3 - 4 weeks?! Darlings of Chocolate-Dunked Delectables, does that make sense?
2. Show a less demonic side (or, if that's too tall an order, just shoot for a softer side), and I'll show you my wallet.
- Lay off the freaking guilt trips, already! I know you reeeeeeeally have your heart set on that sparkling baton for selling 500 boxes of cookies, and you reeeeeeeeeally want to win that trip to Disneyland that you'd get by selling 74,500 more... but, um, it won't happen by jumping in front of my shopping cart with two of your closest friends. No, all that will accomplish is you getting run over by said cart, and your mother getting an earful when she tries to yell at me for hitting her precious Mini-Me. Have you heard of lying? Why not try THAT tactic the next time we meet in front of Safeway? Here's what it would look like:
You: "Gosh, lady... you're so pretty."
Me: "My, aren't you just the sweetest thing! Whatever are you selling? I'll buy all of them."
SEE?!
3. Go where the money is.
- Chances are, Susie Sixpack, it ain't the local Cash-N-Carry. By now, your parents are probably sick to death of hearing your endless blathering about quotas and goals and dreams and visions of a better tomorrow, which makes them your ideal business partner. Couple your new-found ability to tell boldfaced lies to complete strangers with your parents' knowledge of the community you live in, and you should be able to zero-in on the wealthiest neighborhoods in no time. Disneyland? It's yours.
All-in-all, I'd say this was a very therapeutic letter. I was able to get things off my chest and, if you were to read this, you would (of course) take all of my suggestions to heart and magically transform yourself into the Whores of Wholesome Cookie Wonders that I know you have inside of you.
In all honesty, your organization is a great one. I love the concept of girls sticking together, learning some pretty valuable life skills, and raising money in a way that isn't likely to hurt another corporation's bottom line (aside from the evil mega-giants of Nabisco et all). Heck, I was even a Brownie... for all of 6 months, which was how long it took me to realize that we were called "Brownie", not that we got to eat them.
Now, lengthen your selling period or I swear on everything holy in Pregnancy-topia that I will teach my toddler that it is okay to pee on girls in ugly uniforms.
Do a Good Turn Daily,
Krystal
Showing posts with label lies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lies. Show all posts
Monday, February 7, 2011
Friday, May 14, 2010
Bosses, Managers, Supervisors (Pt. 1)
Dear Bosses of the World,
Could you all step into my office for a minute? Thaaaaanks...
It has come to my attention, and the attention of thousands (plus or minus a few million) of other employees around the country, that you are getting really close to "intolerable". Whether it's your need to micromanage your staff, or your severely misplaced distrust of their capabilities, we are starting to notice a disturbing trend. We are confused. We are not pleased.
The last I checked, the following apply to you:
1. You get paid more than we do.
2. You (should have) more responsibility than your subordinates.
3. You agreed to abide by the same Employment Handbook that your employees did.
4. You should be a motivator to your employees, not a stumbling block.
5. You're human, like us. We hope.
I fail, then, to understand why your modus operandi is so different from ours. Is the exponentially higher pay scale that the company forks out for your "intellectual property" not a tidy enough sum for you? Are you out to prove that, yes, there is a "wrong side of the bed" and yes, you CAN wake up on it every single day?
However, since I am a hard working, committed, team-player of an employee, I have brainstormed a (brief) list of solutions.
1. Stop bitching about your salaries in order to be "on the same level" as your staff, unless you want us to mug you and take your "pitifully small" checkbooks.
(This is simple, Oh Commanders of the Cubicle, and will make for a happier team of workers who are less prone to key your Mercedes in the garage. Chances are, we know what you bring home on an annual basis... knowing you, you've probably blabbed about it on the phone to your significant other at a high volume so that we would just "happen" to hear the figure six or seven times. Are we supposed to be impressed, or feel sorry for you? When you try to commiserate with your employees over how little they are making in relation to their perceived worth and contributions, you don't come across as "one of the team" or "on the same level"... you come across as an "douche-waffle" who drives a freaking Mercedes SLR McLaren as your commuter vehicle.)
2. Stop delegating YOUR duties to your subordinates before we decide to rise up and eliminate your position altogether.
(See... this is the problem: Your employees already have enough on their plates without you cherry-picking your own tasks and dumping the rest of the steaming mass on their desks. Did you not get the memo about being replaceable?)
3. Stop bending the rules to fit your desires, unless you're also willing to grant an extra three weeks' vacation to everyone else.
(Whether you're playing FarmVille online, checking your stock purchases, or planning your next family trip to Disneyworld, chances are you're breaking the rules. We, your Employees of Inestimably Great Worth, don't care. We just want to be allowed the same privileges. What makes you all so special that you get to surf the web, file your toenails, or chat with your spouse while texting your side-action and we can't?)
4. Stop looking at, buying, displaying, and believing in those god-awful 'motivational posters' before we use them to cut you with... or start putting up our own.
(Is it really so hard to support your staff? Why else would you resort to posting a "Hang In There, Baby!" poster on your (perpetually closed) office door? Instead, try setting team goals, having a random 'pizza Friday' (which you pay for, not us), or even sending a quick "Thank you for making me look competent" email every once in a while. That instills a greater sense of workplace loyalty than that $3.99 poster ever could... and it isn't nearly as tacky or off-putting to our customers/visitors.)
5. Stop acting like you are infallible, or else we will stop supporting your delusions and you will find yourself naked in a world of hurt.
(Your WoW characters might be the most badass Rogue-Warlock-Mage-thingy ever, but you, Dear Incompetent Idiots in Charge, are not. You guys screw up the system more often than you facilitate progress, and even then make excuses for your lack of ability. The only reason we allow you to stay in power like we do is because we have no desire to lead for fear that your position is actually a curse, but that's a theory we're willing to test if you all don't slow down and listen to your workers. We're the ones in the trenches, carrying out your commands, meeting your objectives, and making your money. Listening to your breadwinners may be the smartest thing you've done since successfully emerging from the womb.)
All-in-all, I'd say this was a very therapeutic letter. I was able to get things off my chest and, if you were to read this, you would (of course) take all of my suggestions to heart and magically transform yourself into the Less Annoying A.S.S.H.O.L.E.s (Arrogant Supervisors Stressing Honest Over-worked Laborers Endlessly) that I know you have inside of you.
Sincerely, I know it takes a lot to run a company. Whether you are a manager of a chain store or a CEO of a corporation, a lot seems to rest on your shoulders with more being added every day. What I have said in this letter isn't (entirely) meant to bash you down (well... yeah, it is), but instead, to point you towards a better vision of Boss-Employee relations.
Now, stop peering down my shirt during staff meetings or I swear that I will staple your man-parts to your leg.
See you at the water cooler,
Krystal
Could you all step into my office for a minute? Thaaaaanks...
It has come to my attention, and the attention of thousands (plus or minus a few million) of other employees around the country, that you are getting really close to "intolerable". Whether it's your need to micromanage your staff, or your severely misplaced distrust of their capabilities, we are starting to notice a disturbing trend. We are confused. We are not pleased. The last I checked, the following apply to you:
1. You get paid more than we do.
2. You (should have) more responsibility than your subordinates.
3. You agreed to abide by the same Employment Handbook that your employees did.
4. You should be a motivator to your employees, not a stumbling block.
5. You're human, like us. We hope.
I fail, then, to understand why your modus operandi is so different from ours. Is the exponentially higher pay scale that the company forks out for your "intellectual property" not a tidy enough sum for you? Are you out to prove that, yes, there is a "wrong side of the bed" and yes, you CAN wake up on it every single day?
However, since I am a hard working, committed, team-player of an employee, I have brainstormed a (brief) list of solutions.
1. Stop bitching about your salaries in order to be "on the same level" as your staff, unless you want us to mug you and take your "pitifully small" checkbooks.
(This is simple, Oh Commanders of the Cubicle, and will make for a happier team of workers who are less prone to key your Mercedes in the garage. Chances are, we know what you bring home on an annual basis... knowing you, you've probably blabbed about it on the phone to your significant other at a high volume so that we would just "happen" to hear the figure six or seven times. Are we supposed to be impressed, or feel sorry for you? When you try to commiserate with your employees over how little they are making in relation to their perceived worth and contributions, you don't come across as "one of the team" or "on the same level"... you come across as an "douche-waffle" who drives a freaking Mercedes SLR McLaren as your commuter vehicle.)
2. Stop delegating YOUR duties to your subordinates before we decide to rise up and eliminate your position altogether.
(See... this is the problem: Your employees already have enough on their plates without you cherry-picking your own tasks and dumping the rest of the steaming mass on their desks. Did you not get the memo about being replaceable?)
3. Stop bending the rules to fit your desires, unless you're also willing to grant an extra three weeks' vacation to everyone else.
(Whether you're playing FarmVille online, checking your stock purchases, or planning your next family trip to Disneyworld, chances are you're breaking the rules. We, your Employees of Inestimably Great Worth, don't care. We just want to be allowed the same privileges. What makes you all so special that you get to surf the web, file your toenails, or chat with your spouse while texting your side-action and we can't?)
4. Stop looking at, buying, displaying, and believing in those god-awful 'motivational posters' before we use them to cut you with... or start putting up our own.
(Is it really so hard to support your staff? Why else would you resort to posting a "Hang In There, Baby!" poster on your (perpetually closed) office door? Instead, try setting team goals, having a random 'pizza Friday' (which you pay for, not us), or even sending a quick "Thank you for making me look competent" email every once in a while. That instills a greater sense of workplace loyalty than that $3.99 poster ever could... and it isn't nearly as tacky or off-putting to our customers/visitors.)
5. Stop acting like you are infallible, or else we will stop supporting your delusions and you will find yourself naked in a world of hurt.
(Your WoW characters might be the most badass Rogue-Warlock-Mage-thingy ever, but you, Dear Incompetent Idiots in Charge, are not. You guys screw up the system more often than you facilitate progress, and even then make excuses for your lack of ability. The only reason we allow you to stay in power like we do is because we have no desire to lead for fear that your position is actually a curse, but that's a theory we're willing to test if you all don't slow down and listen to your workers. We're the ones in the trenches, carrying out your commands, meeting your objectives, and making your money. Listening to your breadwinners may be the smartest thing you've done since successfully emerging from the womb.)
All-in-all, I'd say this was a very therapeutic letter. I was able to get things off my chest and, if you were to read this, you would (of course) take all of my suggestions to heart and magically transform yourself into the Less Annoying A.S.S.H.O.L.E.s (Arrogant Supervisors Stressing Honest Over-worked Laborers Endlessly) that I know you have inside of you.
Sincerely, I know it takes a lot to run a company. Whether you are a manager of a chain store or a CEO of a corporation, a lot seems to rest on your shoulders with more being added every day. What I have said in this letter isn't (entirely) meant to bash you down (well... yeah, it is), but instead, to point you towards a better vision of Boss-Employee relations.
Now, stop peering down my shirt during staff meetings or I swear that I will staple your man-parts to your leg.
See you at the water cooler,
Krystal
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Dental Professionals
Dear Dr. Z and Dental Assistant C.,
I am slightly at-odds with how to start this letter, as I am torn between feeling exceedingly grateful for the work that you perform and being mildly concerned over how you perform it. It may seem petty, but I generally appreciate walking away from a health care professional feeling secure instead of like I have been forced to down a pill comprised of Nerves, Fear, Condescension, and An Urge To Punch You In The Face.
The last I checked, the following are frowned-upon in dental care, whether in terms of practice or patient-relations:
1. Telling your patient something is going to hurt very, very badly.
2. Admonishing your patient for showing nerves and/or flat-out refusing said procedure.
3. Ignoring your patient's history with Novocaine.
4. Comparing dental work to a PAP-smear.
5. Referring your patient to a dental student, after telling the patient that the procedure is going to hurt very, very badly.
Because I am not one to point out flaws and jab at them with tiny, little periodontal instruments and make small noises of glee while the patient, er, reader twitches in pain - whoops, see, there's that 'Punch You In The Face' feeling I was mentioning earlier.
*Ahem*
Here are a few suggestions to help make our relationship a more pleasing, beneficial one, instead of one that is dreaded nearly as much as that PAP that you so strangely pointed out.
1. Lie to your patient, especially when it regards something that will be hurting them very, very badly.
(This will be of many, many benefits to you... first and foremost, it will bring you more money. The more comfortable I feel about a procedure you are about to perform, the more likely I am to allow it, and less likely I am to ignore the bill that you send me after the measly insurance coverage has kicked-in. Second, it will decrease my anxiety, which should have a positive effect on my already rampaging heart rate.) Which brings me to:
2. Lie to your patient, especially when you think they are being extraordinarily wimpy, child-like, or otherwise stupid.
(Sure, I may cry, moan, and blabber on and on about some dental procedure that scarred me for life, but if you can swallow that down (and maybe take it out on the next patient on your list) and tell me that being afraid to even open my mouth for you to look inside is completely normal, you'll have one happy Me on your hands. Oh, and 'happy Me' is, again, more likely to pay my bill. Just sayin'.)
3. Lying to your patient won't work here, so just freaking listen to them when they have something that seriously concerns them.
(I have a messed-up metabolism. My thyroid is under-active, practically to the point of being extinct. Have you ever seen "Office Space"? I'll assume that you have, as all of your side-bar conversations about your iPhone and Twitter account lead me to believe you consider yourself to be a trendy, culturally up-to-date person. (So what if it comes off a little douche-y? Not the point right now. You're safe.) Consider my thyroid to be like Milton Waddams in "Office Space"; the mumbling guy that no one really pays attention to... laid off years ago and never received the notice... who finally burns the place down after being messed with one too many times. The ol' thyroid likes to laze along, until something like, oh, Novocaine enters my system, and then it burns through it like a madman seeking revenge for his Swingline being stolen one too many times. The point to this rambling? What takes most people one or two shots of Novocaine to get through takes me SEVEN.)
4. Don't ever, ever again, tell me that a human mouth is as sensitive - if not more so - than a female's vagina, and then ask me to imagine having a Novocaine injection in Little Krystal.
(NOT. SOMETHING. I. WANT. IN. MY. HEAD.)
5. Lie to your patient, and tell them that the dental student is really a super-secret Dental Master with amazing pain-blocking powers from the planet 'Perfection'.
(That way, I won't be inclined to bring a cattle prod with me to the appointment with said dental student, with the point being to shock the hell out of them each time I feel they've screwed up.)
All-in-all, I'd say this was a very therapeutic letter. I was able to get things off my chest and, if you were to read this, you would (of course) take all of my suggestions to heart and magically transform yourself into the amazing Dental Professional that I know you have inside of you.
In all seriousness, I am grateful to have dental coverage. I understand that so many people in this world aren't nearly as fortunate as I am in this instance, and that is not something that I take for granted. I plan on taking better care of my teeth, and providing a healthy example for my son as he grows and learns what it means to be responsible for his own health.
Now, that being said, if you touch my tooth with the damn nitrous solution one more time, I'm shoving it in your eye.
Remember to floss,
Krystal
I am slightly at-odds with how to start this letter, as I am torn between feeling exceedingly grateful for the work that you perform and being mildly concerned over how you perform it. It may seem petty, but I generally appreciate walking away from a health care professional feeling secure instead of like I have been forced to down a pill comprised of Nerves, Fear, Condescension, and An Urge To Punch You In The Face.
The last I checked, the following are frowned-upon in dental care, whether in terms of practice or patient-relations:
1. Telling your patient something is going to hurt very, very badly.
2. Admonishing your patient for showing nerves and/or flat-out refusing said procedure.
3. Ignoring your patient's history with Novocaine.
4. Comparing dental work to a PAP-smear.
5. Referring your patient to a dental student, after telling the patient that the procedure is going to hurt very, very badly.
Because I am not one to point out flaws and jab at them with tiny, little periodontal instruments and make small noises of glee while the patient, er, reader twitches in pain - whoops, see, there's that 'Punch You In The Face' feeling I was mentioning earlier.
*Ahem*
Here are a few suggestions to help make our relationship a more pleasing, beneficial one, instead of one that is dreaded nearly as much as that PAP that you so strangely pointed out.
1. Lie to your patient, especially when it regards something that will be hurting them very, very badly.
(This will be of many, many benefits to you... first and foremost, it will bring you more money. The more comfortable I feel about a procedure you are about to perform, the more likely I am to allow it, and less likely I am to ignore the bill that you send me after the measly insurance coverage has kicked-in. Second, it will decrease my anxiety, which should have a positive effect on my already rampaging heart rate.) Which brings me to:
2. Lie to your patient, especially when you think they are being extraordinarily wimpy, child-like, or otherwise stupid.
(Sure, I may cry, moan, and blabber on and on about some dental procedure that scarred me for life, but if you can swallow that down (and maybe take it out on the next patient on your list) and tell me that being afraid to even open my mouth for you to look inside is completely normal, you'll have one happy Me on your hands. Oh, and 'happy Me' is, again, more likely to pay my bill. Just sayin'.)
3. Lying to your patient won't work here, so just freaking listen to them when they have something that seriously concerns them.
(I have a messed-up metabolism. My thyroid is under-active, practically to the point of being extinct. Have you ever seen "Office Space"? I'll assume that you have, as all of your side-bar conversations about your iPhone and Twitter account lead me to believe you consider yourself to be a trendy, culturally up-to-date person. (So what if it comes off a little douche-y? Not the point right now. You're safe.) Consider my thyroid to be like Milton Waddams in "Office Space"; the mumbling guy that no one really pays attention to... laid off years ago and never received the notice... who finally burns the place down after being messed with one too many times. The ol' thyroid likes to laze along, until something like, oh, Novocaine enters my system, and then it burns through it like a madman seeking revenge for his Swingline being stolen one too many times. The point to this rambling? What takes most people one or two shots of Novocaine to get through takes me SEVEN.)
4. Don't ever, ever again, tell me that a human mouth is as sensitive - if not more so - than a female's vagina, and then ask me to imagine having a Novocaine injection in Little Krystal.
(NOT. SOMETHING. I. WANT. IN. MY. HEAD.)
5. Lie to your patient, and tell them that the dental student is really a super-secret Dental Master with amazing pain-blocking powers from the planet 'Perfection'.
(That way, I won't be inclined to bring a cattle prod with me to the appointment with said dental student, with the point being to shock the hell out of them each time I feel they've screwed up.)
All-in-all, I'd say this was a very therapeutic letter. I was able to get things off my chest and, if you were to read this, you would (of course) take all of my suggestions to heart and magically transform yourself into the amazing Dental Professional that I know you have inside of you.
In all seriousness, I am grateful to have dental coverage. I understand that so many people in this world aren't nearly as fortunate as I am in this instance, and that is not something that I take for granted. I plan on taking better care of my teeth, and providing a healthy example for my son as he grows and learns what it means to be responsible for his own health.
Now, that being said, if you touch my tooth with the damn nitrous solution one more time, I'm shoving it in your eye.
Remember to floss,
Krystal
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