Rusty Robot Monkeys and The Smartass Meets Her Match

It's a cold and blustery day in Frog Pond Holler. Pooh Bear and the gang would feel right at home. I'm curled up on the couch in the girl cave, watching "The Closer" while occasionally glancing out the window hoping to catch a glimpse of the first flakes of winter.

Don't get excited, they're just calling for a mix around noonish.

There was lots of Bossholio drama at The Asylum this week. One of our customers complained that his five year old robot monkey was rusty. Our robot monkeys are supposed to be approved for outdoor use. So Bossholio gave the customer information on the coating we use on our monkeys, to prove that it couldn't possibly be our fault.


The customer, Spiffybots, called back to say they'd called the monkey paint manufacturer and were told that the coating we use isn't appropriate for use out in the elements.

Bossholio had an "oh shit" moment. Over the past 6 years, when we changed paint, we've sent out umpteenzillion robot monkeys with that paint. Most of which would be used outside.

There were wordy-dirties expelled at high volume. The top of Bossholio's head glowed bright red. After he got off the phone with Spiffybots, he got on the intercom and read off the management roll call and insisted that they all report to his office IMMEDIATELY.

I may have laughed a little. And snorted.

The GM was the first to arrive. He wasn't among those paged and I'm pretty sure Bossholio forgot he was even there. I don't think he would have showed his ass so blatantly if he'd realized it. He looked at Bossholio and said, "Damn Fred. You havin' the big one?"

To make a long story sorta shorter, throughout the course of the day, Bossholio blamed each and every one of the management staff for the problem, had about three hissy fits and crapped assorted farm animals.

It was hard to concentrate on my job, what with all the gigglesnorts coming from my cube.

At the end of the day it was determined that Bossholio had given the wrong information to Spiffybots and that our paint was.. well.. just spiffy.

Also this week at The Asylum, the new PM, Big Red, proved herself a teller of untruths, not to one or two employees, but the entire plant. Her reputation just went down the pipes, like the grand flushing of a ginormous toilet. She has also let her guard down and revealed that she possesses, like all our past PMs, a smart assed mouth and while she loves to dish it out, she never developed the ability to take it.

And... she has met her match. I have no fear. I couldn't care less if I get fired.

I intend to sanitize my mind from thoughts of The Asylum this weekend by getting some stuff listed for my shop and making some new stuff. I've got one finished rug laying here that I need to get on there and I've got some new earring parts to work with.

I hope ya'll have an awesome weekend. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!


tiff said...

isn't it odd that the people who love to dish it out almost never can take it? Wonder why?

'Girl cave' = awesomeness.

BetteJo said...

Oh man! There's nothing like a rusty robot-monkey - I hate it when that happens!