Office Whoa-s

Client 09:51-email: Raivenne, it’s not working. HELP?

Me 09:56-email: Please give me a call. No idea what you’re speaking of.

[While waiting for email reply, I look through files, begin to see the problem. Start an email response.]

Client 10:21-email: Will do. Are you free now? Here is the issue.

Me 10:22-email: Yes. Call me.

[While waiting for call, I continue look through their content on the back end and discover a series of issues that I presume are the reason for the request for help and continue typing mostly to have talking points at hand when they eventually call.]

One of the things I inform students during training, is that our application identifies them by name, date, and time, down to the seconds, when an action happens. Do not waste time telling me or any one on my team that you did not do something, because the application will, as I call it, rat you out. I do not contact you if I do not already know that it was you (royal you in this case as it involves more than one person), that did it. I already know if I do not cauterize this at the source now, it will drag out unnecessarily, so I aim for a preemptive strike.

My talking points become a diplomatic full out email, complete with screenshots, timestamps, and step-by-step breakdowns to explain:

– how ya’ll done effed up

– when ya’ll done effed up

– when ya’ll attempted to cover up the eff up which then

– created a bigger eff up, so

– here’s how to fix your eff up and ‘cause summa ya’ll clearly didn’t listen the first time I tol’ ya’ll ‘bout effin’ dis up

– here’s yet another step-by-step detail of the ideal scenario on how not to eff dis up again.

And yes, I went uber petty and purposely CCed all parties involved in the shenanigans, to avoid the backend I thought he/she/they -blame the person not in the email- I knew would happen without it. I spent nearly an hour and a half crafting that email, being excruciatingly detailed, because office diplomacy of politely, but emphatically, saying ya’ll some stoopid Keystone Cops sonsabeeches and we, meaning me, ain’t gots time fo’ ya’ll ‘peatin’ the same ol’ dumb ass ish ova’ and ova’ is wordy as fuck.

I ended the tirade with “Had the ideally happened this entire “conversation” would not be needed.”

As always when I go off the email-rails, I have a second, and often third, pair of eyes go over things because I sometimes forget to camouflage my natural penchant to snark my Rubenesque African American callipygian to near non-existence.

“Oooh, you are pissed!” “Damn did you at least send lube first?” were my colleagues response before I was allowed to click send.

Alas, because I am a cunning philologist (hah! Not the word you thought I would use here was it?), I am also aware that despite my best efforts to curtail my wont for multisyllabic linguistics in professional diatribes, my email diplomacy ofttimes necessitates the employment of verbiage translations. I should mention, in that one hour and a half span of composing said email and writing this slice – I am still awaiting that promised call. Thus, I am not in expectation of immediacy in response to my correspondence.

I think I will pull a Cheshire Cat now – smile and wave and disappear…


Let’s see how others are smiling and waving it out this Tuesday…

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8 thoughts on “Office Whoa-s

  1. If only we could say what is really on our mind without repercussions. Sounds kinda like putting together some knock down furniture without reading the directions and then wondering why there are bits and pieces left over and the furniture is not as sturdy as the floor model was. I applaud your restraint in wording your response.

  2. Full confession. I might have scared the dogs when I started laughing uncontrollably at my kitchen counter.

    There is so much REAL here, and yes, you’ve named it. And when we know what someone else has done – with full receipts in hand – it’s game ON.

    And while I might not have a “natural penchant to snark my Rubenesque African American callipygian to near non-existence” to curtail, I do find myself resorting to verbosity when the situation calls for a heartfelt, albeit diplomatic, arse-kicking.

    I may or may not send this to my son, who also has to deal with his fair share of said shenannigans.

  3. Ooh – Lainie already flagged the line that sent me from giggling into full on laughing: “I sometimes forget to camouflage my natural penchant to snark my Rubenesque African American callipygian to near non-existence.” That, my friend, is some damn good writing. It’s also good for a belly laugh. Pretty sure I might need to send you some of my emails to help me un-camouflage some of my real feelings. Because I, too, know “some stoopid Keystone Cops sonsabeeches” who could use a taste of Ravienne’s style. 🙂

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