Really?

This is probably the fourth or fifth call I've gotten like this in the past couple days:

"I'm calling because I was away in NY and I live in NorCal and I got this letter that said they were going to call me and they haven't called me yet."

Are. You. Effing. Kidding me?

**woooooooooooooooooooo!!!** (siren noise)

Me:"I always have these clients calling me saying, 'It's an emergency!'"
Secretary: "'You have a lot of emergencies, sir.'"
Me: "'You're LIFE is an emergency!'"

When In Rome

Dear Secretary From Another Firm Who Asks Me Questions About Specific Documents and Motions in a Specific Case,

For one, you called the MAIN OFFICE NUMBER; you have not reached a secretary, you have reached a receptionist. Don’t ask receptionists things like that, because your legal jargon might as well be Italian grammar lessons--meaning I understand “gelato”, "spaghetti" and “motion to…” but the rest of it is lots of hand gestures, tomato sauce and those 1,000-page documents with the numbers all down the left margin. It is way above my ($13-something/hr) pay grade. Please HOLD ON while I transfer someone who gets paid 3 to 30 times what I do.

Thanks so much.

The Raging Receptionist

I sorta feel bad... [from a while back]

…but I sorta don’t.

Guy from one of our cases at trial just called me for the 2nd time today. The first time he called (only an hour and a half ago) I give him the cell phone number that is the contact number for those clients. Now he is calling back because he hasn’t heard from them. (What’s fucking new, right?)

Really? It’s been less than 2 hours. Did it ever cross your mind, sir, that they are IN COURT, RIGHT NOW, ALL DAY? Did it ever occur to you, sir, that we are still within normal business hours and that it would be safe to assume that they are BUSY? (P.S. that is the root word of “business”, as in “We are BUSY during BUSINESS hours.”)

I gently suggested some of these possibilities (“Well, sir, I would assume that they are in court right now, and they will return your call when they check the voice messages from the phone”). And what do you think was his response? (Don’t worry, here comes the FUN part.)

“Well I just figured that only the attorneys would be in court. I figured that the ladies would be able to answer the phone. You know, I figured the ladies wouldn’t be in trial.”

Please note the italicization. It took EVERY. CELL. IN MY BODY. To keep from losing my brain at him. Maybe most people don’t see that as sexist, because, truly, the 2 attorneys are men, and the 2 paralegals are, in fact, “ladies”. But JUST because they are LADIES doesn’t mean that you should simply refer to them as “ladies” (ESPECIALLY if you are going to refer to the men as “attorneys”, not “the men”). Also, consider the fact that he assumes that just because these women are not attorneys, that they will (a) not be in court and (b) will be there to answer his phone calls a.k.a. cater to him.

He then proceeds to complain to me (the freakin receptionist) about how he is facing disciplinary action at work because he’s already taken time off for the deposition, and now he knows he has to take time off for the trial itself, but because he can’t give his job advanced notice, they are getting pissy.

I feel bad about his job, I truly do, this economy sucks and that’s not a fun situation. But on the same token, you are continuing to berate someone (ME) who has ALREADY TOLD YOU what you can do to solve this matter, and that she herself cannot help you, nor can anyone else currently in the office. You need to CALL THE OTHER NUMBER and LEAVE A BLOODY MESSAGE.

All work and no play makes TigerLily a dull girl. [from late July]

Oh my goodness, I just HAD to take a little break at my new job to write an update; I think my head was about ready to spin off!
For those that are unaware, I recently left that old shitty job I was at and have gotten a new and wonderfully busy job. Fear not! I am still a receptionist and I think I will have even better stories here than I did at my last office. I now work for a law firm, and the particular type of law they practice is the perfect setting for The Raging Receptionist: they represent mobile home park tenants in failure-to-maintain suits against the park owners. (This is the main portion of the practice. We also work on some eminent domain cases and things of that nature.) This is only my sixth day and I've already had more hilariously cranky and entertainingly bizarre callers than I had in a few months at Boring Old Job (where the most exciting caller I had was a woman who had the wrong number complaining about her spoiled can of tuna fish. On a Friday in Lent. Go figure).

Prime Example: M&M's Guy
When you work for a law firm that advertises in the Yellow Pages, you're bound to get more than a few crazies. I would hope that our firm advertises our more specific area of practice, but The Average Stupid American is still apt to simply flip to the "Lawyers" section, lick the Cheeto/Dorito goop off their finger, and point at a random listing.
Enter M&M's Guy.
Senor M&M's called looking for a lawyer, and in what seemed like one, long, unending breath, told me his story. (I wasn't even able to interject to put him on hold and answer other calls, let alone communicate to him that this was NOT our area of law.) He bought an eight pack of "Fun Size" M&M's, but when he opened the package, there were only five inside. Immediately I thought, Oh my gosh, THIS is what this guy is calling about? Are you serious? Why don't you just return it to the store? But wait, there's more. Without skipping a beat he goes on to tell me that he proceeded to eat all five packages (whether it was all in one sitting or not, the world may never know--but I would totally bet my life savings on it) and then he got "really ill". Now he wants to sue M&M's (well, actually he probably wants to sue Mars Inc. but he obviously isn't aware of candy company power hierarchies) and that's all fine and dandy, but that's not what we do here. I try to explain this to him, but he doesn't really listen to me, so I pass him off to one of the paralegal's voicemails. (I found out later that she listened to the voicemail, got really confused, and then immediately drafted up a rejection letter to send to him.)
Poor guy. I hope he learns his lesson.

Guest Star: Pearl

Hey, hey, hey there boys and ghouls, I'm Pearl. Bestie of the Rager herself, 22, recently rescued from the frozen tundra that is semi-rural Colorado.

Basic background? How kind of you to ask!
*Navy brat, grew up here, there, everywhere. Even overseas for a bit.
*Married, divorced, married, divorced. (Navy, then Army. Maybe I'll find a nice Marine, Airman, Coastie, Reservist and Guardsman... Orrrr not.)
*I have a two year old little monster who is a diva and KNOWS it.
*Receptionist at a Law Firm
*Snark is my first language.
*Scifi ADDICT.

So, random sample of madness? This office is SPARTA, I'm telling you.

Invisible Lawyer was in today. She comes in once a week, sometimes, we go 2 weeks without seeing her. So she comes in today, looking like a cross between the fifties and Stevie Nicks. Cardigan and flowy bohemian skirt. What. The. HELL are you even wearing? I just want to leave her a little note on her desk.

Dear Invisible Lawyer,
The fifties died. Give Stevie Nicks her skirt back. And for the love of all that is good and holy woman, DROP THAT PERFUME BOTTLE! You smell like a walking hay fever attack. I'm worried that I may ACTUALLY sneeze my brains out every time you walk by me. Also, you made it through law school. Nobody buys the "I'm so helpless and confused" act. Young Russian Lawyer does it WAY better.

Thoroughly Annoyed & Searching For The Benadryl,
The Frickin Receptionist

Guest Star: Kyle

We have our first guest blogger! Kyle and Pearl are too lazy to write their own blogs on a regular basis...and let's be honest, so am I...so I volunteered a couple guest spots for them.  Enjoy!


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The name is Kyle. And I am a File Clerk Extraordinaire! Many of you may be asking yourselves, what is a File Clerk (extraordinaire)? Is there a concentration on the FILE part, or the CLERK portion? I am here to tell you that I… literally have no idea. Here’s the deal, back in 2008, I was working in Satan’s armpit, better known as a “Customer Service Call Center” for a top 4 (and I say top 4 because it was fourth, but it sounds special, right?) insurance company. I wanted a new job, I answered a job posting on Craigslist.com, interviewed for the position and within a week from when I answered the ad, I started. On my first day on the job, I was given a desk, I filled out a bunch of papers, and I met a ton of people… I still had no idea 1.) What my job title was or what I’d be doing for the company and 2.) what the company even did.

As time went on and I found that I was their “file clerk” I just basically knew where everything was (including the files in the office) and did a bunch of lame work around the office all day. Being that it happened to be a Law Firm, that gave me “Law Experience” and now I am trapped in the Law World… it’s very unfulfilling

Happy "Are you effing kidding me?" Thursday!

The high occurrence of caller/walk-in idiocy today is going to make me insane. An interviewee who drove here from Orange County got here an HOUR early for her appointment. And instead of hitting up a coffee shop or perhaps a park to kill some time, she came in and waited here for a half an hour doing NOTHING. Nothing but staring into space and shuffling papers in her fancy folder. Thank god our HR Director was able to come get her early.

Then I had a DHL guy get all snippy with me about picking something up when I told him he had to go to Shipping & Receiving. Listen, Buddy, all you have to do is drive around to the BACK of the building. Don't you see the frickin signs that say "Shipping & Receiving >>>" at every driveway? These people, I swear.

And I just had a guy call for the HR Director all concerned that her phone was going straight to voice mail. "Is she IN????" he asked desperately. Dude, she is in a meeting, so she has her phone on Do Not Disturb. Why do people always assume that voicemail automatically means "out"?

Remind me not to take sick days in the middle of the week. Coming back with 2 whole days left SUCKS.

Mr. Jackson Strikes Again

Can I just begin with a little message to all you assholes off the world? You SUCK. Eat shit and die.

Ok, I feel a little better.

Do you remember Mr. Jackson from the Ups And Downs post, who paid for 2 stamps with a $20? Well, he came back today. He wanted change for a $5. When I looked in my petty cash box, I only have 6 or 7 $1's. So I told him "Sorry, I can't, I don't have enough $1's", partially because it was true, and partially because HE'S AN ASSHOLE. He responded with a smug shake of his head, "Well, don't you have any quarters?" I let out a deep sigh and said "Yeah, ok." I would've given him ALL quarters, but I'm pretty low on those, too. He smiles his hideous, smug, I-got-what-I-wanted smile, and walks away saying "Saves me a trip upstairs."
"Excuse me?"
"Saves me a trip upstairs to get change." (The main petty cash box is upstairs in the finance department.)
"Yeah, but now I have to go upstairs." (Keep in mind that I'm not allowed to wander the building at my leisure, I have to coordinate every trip upstairs with Cal, either asking him to run my errand for me, or dragging out my breaks a little, keeping him from his work.)
"Oh well!" He giggles to himself as he counts his $1's and walks off.

It took everything in me not to scream, and I'm still having trouble fighting it off now. I have no problem giving change if I am able to, but sometimes I can't, and everyone else is fine with going upstairs in that event. But when you look down your bulbous, troll-like nose at me, Mr. Jackson, and smile at my stress, believe me, I will get my vengeance. At the very least, I am NEVER giving him change again. Even if I have to lie and say, "I was told I wasn't allowed to just exchange large bills anymore." (And I essentially was told that, even if it was more like "Psh, don't do that. Send them upstairs! They know better.")

I can't wait to go to my car so I can call SOMEONE and scream about this. What a goddamn prick.

Oh yeah, duh. Somebody owes somebody an apology.

I keep meaning to apologize for the huge gap in posts. At my old job, where none of the internet was blocked, I could write effusively in the midst of a Rage Blackout with little to no imposition. At this new place, Blogger was blocked, sadly, so I was having to skirt my way around the internet limitations by writing my posts in Google Docs, and then adding them to Blogger later. But for one, it's just not the same. For two, by the time I got home to sit my fat butt on the couch and watch my recordings of Mercy, Chelsea Lately, and the Biggest Loser, the last thing I wanted to do was stare at the computer for even 15 minutes to move the Google Doc into Blogger.

But, something momentous happened. I was checking my email randomly a few weeks ago, and the images on an email from Twitter were actually showing up. (Twitter was one of the blocked sites, obvi.) So I clicked the link, and was taken straight to the login page of Twitter. My next stop, obviously, was Facebook, and HUZZAH! It worked!! Well, partially. Something still blocks FB chat and Sorority Life (a travesty, I know!) from functioning, and I can't upload photos or crop out new profile pics, but most everything else is fair game.

I checked Blogger as well, via my FAVE blog and partial Rage inspiration, Working Girl, but I was so used to no longer having a Rage Blackout outlet at work, that I kept forgetting I could blog again. But never fear, peeps, I'm back!! And I'm armed with lots of new stories and more friends.

As I mentioned in my first comeback entry, I have a new fellow Receptionist who I exchange emails with regularly. She's my bestie and just moved back to California after a long hiatus in the icky-horrid-job-market of relatively-rural Colorado. She'll be known as "Pearl", and I'll probably refer to her on a regular basis. Who knows, maybe she'll want to write a guest post or two.

The other major roadblock to my continued blogging is that I am no longer single! Wee!! After nearly of year of ridiculously casual dating and more than a few "misses", I finally hit a bulls-eye with "Peter". He's sweet and cuddly and just as over-eager and clingy as I am, and we share a strange random affinity for fleur-de-lis, astrology, and tattoos. I guess the last one isn't really strange or random, considering our generation's general inclination to be inked...Did I mention he loves taking me to lunch when he gets off work early or has a long lunch break? What a sweetie!

Anywho, Pearl and Peter will be probably be frequently mentioned from now on, since they are usually the first receptors of my rages, before I bring them to you. Especially Pearl. She and I tend to keep our insanity in check.

I am the Gatekeeper of the Fortress of Purchasing Protection, you shall. Not. PASS!

Here we are again, Monday. And not just any Monday, but the Monday that marks the end of my 6th month here. According to my good buddy Cal, a few people upstairs were promoted from Temporary to Permanent after 6 months with the company, so I'm crossing my fingers that I'll get some news like that in the next week or two. Not only getting away from my *horrid* staffing agency that takes a third of my paycheck, but benefits would be amazing. In 2 weeks I'll be turning 23 and I'll be getting kicked off my parent's insurance. My mom said they would pay for me to continue under the COBRA benefits, but since it's really expensive and I'm already living there rent-free, I'm really not looking forward to the added burden.

In lighter news, I got word today that one of my (few, normal) coworkers (that I actually like) got a little bit of a promotion. Let's call her "Patty". She actually talks to me when she comes to the lobby and gives me first dibs on all of the goofy samples and free gifts she gets. Because she works in the Purchasing department, sales reps are always giving her free promotional junk to get her to buy stuff from them. Seriously weird stuff from seriously weird people. Smuckers hot fudge? This guy is really going to open up his laptop and make sales calls from the lobby?

I have really come to admire the people that work in Purchasing. They have to meet with and talk to annoying, greasy, schmoozy sales reps all the time who I can barely stand talking to for 5 minutes while I wait for Patty or one of the other purchasing buyers to come down and meet with them. They also get lots of cold calls and random drop-ins, and dealing with the latter is the most work but also the most satisfying. Essentially, I get to tell them to piss off, since an appointment is required to meet with any of our buyers, to avoid these annoying nut-jobs. Of course, I don't actually get to say "Piss off", which would probably make things a lot easier, and this is where things get sticky. (And by sticky I mean with their copious amounts of disgusting and unattractive hair gel.) As we all know from dealing with car salesmen, telemarketers, and anyone else who works on commission, these people are pretty...uh..."persistent". They pepper me with questions about how many people work here, what Patty or the other buyers' extensions or emails are, and "Is this the product you sell? You don't manufacture here, do you?" More often than not they are working in pairs, so I have four hungry eyes (or sometimes two hungry eyes and two pleading eyes, if the latter pair belong to a trainee) searching and dissecting me for fissures and weaknesses in my Fortress of Purchasing Protection. I feel like Gandalf every time they retreat out the door again in defeat. Then I reach quickly for the hand sanitizer because just talking to them makes me feel like I have cooties scampering all over my skin. Yuckth.

Oh, speaking of hand sanitizer, being the receptionist with a cold is no fun. I feel like a rat during the Bubonic Plague. Thank God I am quarantined to the front lobby, all alone. :(

Kill Me. Kill Me Now.

This lady that just came in is a Hot. Mess.

First of all, she is hobbling in here in crutches with a whole laptop bag and this huge brace on her left knee. I had to run around and help her even get in the front door, cause it's so heavy. She compliments my shoes (the peep-toe booties with the zippers and stuff on them that I bought for V-day) and then she tells me she's here to see a guy in our office, but she pronounces the name wrong. I could probably forgive that on any other occasion, people butcher the shiz out of people's names all the time, but I've seen this woman before. She came in sans appointment (and knee brace) a couple of weeks ago trying to "get a moment" with Tod*. And then she goes into this whole story about how she's supposed to have had the meeting at "10:15, well, 10:30" but then she got a late start (probs her gimpy leg) and went on and on about how tried Tod's cell multiple times, and "he just wouldn't answer!" As if all he does all day is field calls from people--this dude isn't even a VP and he's running like 3 or 4 departments right now.
So I'm like "Ok, ma'am, hold on" so I can call Tod's extension, and then possibly his assistant. And OF COURSE she's one of those over-the-counter peerers, trying to watch everything I'm bloody doing, talking to me WHILE I'M MAKING THE PHONE CALL about how he wasn't answering his cell phone, so maybe I should call someone who sits next to him.
For one, Lady, I'm on the f*cking phone. Back up for like 30 seconds. Second, I have no idea where Tod's office is in these two ginormous buildings, let alone who sits next to him, for Chrissake. Third, Tod is not some cubicle-bound moron, he's the Director of Operations on top of at least two other departments that he's managing temporarily while we look for someone to replace the former directors.
And this whole time she's bloody peering, which makes me absolutely INSANE. When Tod's extension went to voice mail--like it almost ALWAYS does--she comments AGAIN about how he wasn't answering his cell phone, blah blah blah. I keep my homicidal** urges to myself long enough to get on the phone with his assistant, who--praise Jesus--answers in the 2nd ring and says she'll go track him down.

Then, we wait.

Probably 10 minutes pass til the assistant comes out to tell this lady they'll have to reschedule again. They chit-chatted about knee injuries (and gag-me-with-a-spoon,I'm-only-halfway-through-my-ep-of-Marriage-Ref,will-you-please-move-it-along?). And wouldn't you know it? This lady is STILL sitting here on her laptop after the assistant has left, and THEN--sweet merciful heaven, give me strength--she ask to see our accounts payable manager "if he has a moment" (I'm really learning to DESPISE that phrase.) He's been out all week, so I don't actually have to do anything, but its that look on her face like "aw shucks". Makes me want to kick a puppy or something. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....

This is mostly copy-pasted from an email to a fellow Receptionist, not 30 seconds after sending it, I had to send the following:

OMG SHE JUST ASKED FOR THE ASSISTANT AGAIN WTFF JUST LEAVE LADY I'M SICK OF YOU

"I swear this leg thing has affected my brain! Haha Or at least its a good excuse, right? hahaha"

AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH


I hope your Fridays are going well. Boooooooo...

*Name changed, because, lets face it, I don't wanna get fired.
**I tried to spell that "homocidal"...I love The Gays that much.