I had promised myself when I started working that I would most definitely not write about anyone I work with, even vaguely. I’m pretty much out of the closet with my blog around the office and I feel that if I blog about people I work with not only will it make for uncomfortable situations in the community kitchen but I’ll also run the risk of pissing off the wrong person. as I am apt to do. This person however, poses no risk to potential loss of income and the whole situation has descended to such levels of ridiculousness that I just had to write about it.
I have to let you know right off that bat that this isn’t some sordid tale of hot lovin’ in the copy room at work. This is the ongoing story of the fight for office supremacy between an unsuspecting Assistant and the delivery man hell bent to make her life more difficult than it has to be. I’m sure if you were to ask him what this story was about, he would say it was a woeful tale about a humble deliveryman and the know-it-all B**** set out to make his already taxing job more difficult.
For those of you that don’t already know, by day I work in the Legal department of a large corporation whose offices are across the street from the White House. They have very strict rules about packages and who can accept for what and whom, understandably. Some people don’t follow these rules, they just sign for whatever. I am not one of those people. (Yes, I’m the boring kid that always plays by the rules). This guy, let’s call him Fred because I don’t really know his name and it wouldn’t be very nice to call him jack ass.
The first time I encountered “Fred”, he was really nice. He welcomed me to the office and let me know that he was the normal delivery guy for our building. I was cordial and signed for the packages that he delivered. My second encounter with Fred went just as smoothly. He even volunteered to bring the boxes of paper that were ordered for the office to our copy room, which I thought was nice of him. Little did I know, he was only buttering me up for what was to come next.
It was a typical Friday in our office and everyone was out. Most people work from home on Friday or just plain take it off. Being a newbie, I don’t have the luxury, so lucky me; I was the only one in the office to sign that day.
Fred: Can you sign for this?
Me: (Taking the package and not recognizing the name) I’ll have to look him up because I don’t know who he is.
Fred: You can’t just sign for it?
Me: No, not without knowing where it belongs.
Fred: (Gives me a long exasperated eye roll)
I proceed to look up Mr. X’s name in the system and saw that not only is he not in my department but he’s not even on my floor, which meant I couldn’t sign for the package.
Me: You’ll have to take this down to 1 because Mr. X is not on this floor or in my department, so I can’t sign for it.
Fred: (Snatches back the package and leaves)
This quick exchange started a war of attrition between myself and the UPS delivery guy. It started small, him intentionally taking my packages to the other side of the building so that the assistant over there would have to call me to come and pick them up. In return, I told the assistant on the other side not to sign for anything that was mine unless I was out of the office, thus forcing him to have schlep his deliveries an extra 500 feet. He was not to be deterred by this act of war and he took my barring him from the other side of the office in stride. He bided his time until an opportunity arose to pay me back.
The day after I come back from being out sick, I arrived to my desk to see Staples copy paper boxes laid out so that they extended in a neat little line from the opening of my cubicle to the wall behind me cube, such that anyone trying to access any offices to the right of my cube would have had to step over the boxes to get around them. He gave new meaning to the phrase, “what can brown do for you?” Brown gave me a hernia. I think he heard me yell, “this means war” from my cubicle! The other Assistant came over to my desk to see what was wrong and after spying the assortment of boxes and their neat arrangement across the span of the hallway, busted out laughing. I’m glad she could laugh at my literal pain. I am a tiny person and while I like to believe I’m strong, moving those copy paper boxes out of my cube, the hallway and over to the copy room kicked my arse. I don’t think I’ve said that many curse words before 9am in my life. As they say, revenge is a dish best served cold and I wouldn’t have to wait that long to get mine.
- Look for part two of Me and the UPS Guy: Shelley’s Revenge – Coming Soon.