The Smoking BMW

Tonight on your drive home from work around 11:20 PM, you saw the best thing...

You occasionally stop for a burger at Hardee's. The only Hardee's restaurant in the Twin Cities is located right in the middle of your drive to and from work at 369 Hamline Ave S in St. Paul. It's open 24 hours.

The only other Hardee's restaurant within 30 miles is in Anoka.

Anyway, you were going around 70 miles per hour, and you were heading toward the far right lane so you could get off I-94 onto Hamline. You glanced at the review-mirror and saw headlights speeding toward you in the far left lane. As you were getting onto the Hamline exit, you saw a white BMW pass by like you were sitting still. It had to have been going at least 120 miles per hour. Gray smoke was billowing from the engine compartment and trailing it like the tail of a comet.

It was a wonderful sight. Just lovely. Like a bush of blooming roses rooted in a big pile of dog shit.

You can't help but wonder what the story was there. Your imagination sucks ass, because all can think think of is that the car was stolen by a couple douchebags and they were trashing it. Or maybe the owner was just a rich douchebag who would rather trash his/her car by getting home before it broke down so they wouldn't have to wait for a tow truck on the shoulder of the interstate.

Sidebar: There's a St. Paul Police precinct immediately next door to the Hardees on Hamline. There were police officers milling about in the parking lot. None of them looked concerned.

The Cheap-Ass Peppery Wine

You are watching Will & Grace after work, and you are drinking wine. It's the peppery wine you like from Chile. Yum. And it's only $5 a bottle! Awesome.

Thanks to the cheap-ass liquor store in Bloomington that Sweetie visits on occasion. They always put wine on sale for half price when they want to get rid of it. You forgot the name of the liquor store.

Seriously! $5! This wine is too awesome to be $5. It's too awesome to be $10. You're going to send Sweetie back for more. And she loves you, so she'll do it (even though she doesn't like this kind of wine). You're going to have her buy all the bottles they have left.

The best part: despite the fact that your life is complete shit, you're happy at the moment, and it has a lot to do with the peppery wine from Chile. Maybe you'll become a wino and live on the street, and then you'll freeze to death, because this is fucking Minnesota, and it's cold as fuck until May...or June.

The Internal Job Application

Oh, you really hate working for a big fascist corporation.

Here's the thing: a few days ago, you applied for a different position internally at Castcom. It's a low-level administrative position that involves marketing research and creating promotion materials using desktop publishing and presentation software, and "additional duties as assigned." You are perfect for the position, and the position is in Minnetonka instead of St. Paul, so the daily commute would be so much better. Plus, the hours are the same as Sweetie's hours, so you could actually see her for more than a few hours a week.

You have every qualification the position requires. In fact, you are probably overqualified, but then you're waaaaaaay overqualified for your current position in technical support.

So, what's the problem?

Well, like every giant fascist corporation, Castcom has many policies regarding applying for a different position within the company. One of these policies is that your current supervisor must approve of the transfer to the new position, and this has to be done BEFORE they'll accept your application.

So, today, you tactfully approached your supervisor--let's call him David Douchebag--with your completed internal transfer form, and he hemmed and hawed for awhile. Then he asked why you thought you were qualified for the position. You explained your qualifications to him, and then explained why you thought you'd be a good fit for the new position and why you would enjoy the position. Then David Douchebag hemmed and hawed some more before asking you for a copy of the job description, which you immediately handed him along with a copy of your resume, because you just had a feeling he'd ask for it.

Then...get this...David Douchebag says, "I need to do more research on this. I'll get back to you about it." So, you politely point out to David Douchebag that the window for applying for this position ends tomorrow (open positions are only open to internal apps for 7 days, and you found out about the position 3 days ago, and David Douchebag has been out of the office until today). David Douchebag says, "Yeah, I'll get back to you tomorrow."

Now, understand that you start work at 2 PM, and you still need approval from the HR department (another policy) before your internal application can officially be accepted, and HR closes it's office door at five sharp every day (actually, they close the door at five 'til five, because they are buddyfuckers). So, you now only have a three-hour window to get all this taken care of. However, David Douchebag certainly isn't going to give you time off the tech-support phone to get HR's approval, so you'll have to do it during your break at 4:00, which actually leaves only a 15-minute window to get the transfer approved. But you'll have to take a piss as well, so that leaves a ten-minute window.

What a crock of shit.

What would David Douchebag need to research other than a reason to not approve your transfer? Because, at the moment, he hasn't got one. It's a pretty cut and dried thing. Just sign the goddamn form.

The real purpose behind the "transfer approval by the current supervisor" policy is not literally about "approval." If it were, no one at a corporation would actually get to transfer except incompetent employees that supervisors WANT to get rid of. The "approval of transfer" is meant to be a way of keeping your current supervisor apprised of your plan to transfer, and his signature on this form proves that you kept him up to date with your internal job search.

However, like a typical corporate middle manager, David Douchebag loves to let his surfs know that he is in control, and now he's going to let your internal transfer form set on his desk until he's good and ready to give it back to you. Just signing the damn form and letting you get on with the rest of your corporate-red-tape-life would have just been too fucking easy for the both of you.

Why all the flack? Seriously, why?

All you're asking for is a chance to interview for the position. If you're not qualified (and YOU ARE qualified), or if someone else is better qualified, shouldn't that be the HIRING supervisor's say, and not the say of someone biased who has a reason NOT to let you apply for a different position?

With all this red tape, it's actually easier for you to search for a position OUTSIDE of Castcom, which is exactly what's going to happen if David Douchebag doesn't approve your transfer.

Also, if he doesn't approve your transfer, he better have conjured up a very, very good bullshit reason not to. Otherwise shit is going to hit the fan at work. You're not afraid to call bullshit on this douchebag and take the issue to HIS supervisor. As if that will do any good [eyes rolling], but you will do it, and you will be noisy about the whole business of questioning David Douchebag's competence in front of your peers.

The Fuck the Customer Equation

You worked for eight hours tonight, and, really, you helped no one. You took over 30 calls today, and you helped no one.

For some reason, people seem to think that tech support is where one calls to get technical help. Well, that couldn't be further from the truth.

You work for a ridiculously large communications company. Let's call that company Castcom. Castcom is the largest provider of cable television, and the second-largest provider of internet access in the United States, and they didn't become a large fascist douchebag corporation by HELPING people.

Please. Get real.

Castcom cares about one thing, and one thing only: $$$$$$$

Are you surprised?

Well, you shouldn't be. Anyone who believes that any corporation really gives a rat's ass about customer satisfaction is naive and/or stupid. No one cares about a customer's satisfaction except the customer, and there's a constant equation going through all those middle management brains that goes something like this:

profit - (time+wages+overhead) = fuck the customer

The first question out of your lead's mouth before he takes a "supe call" is: "What services do they have?" In other words, if you ain't buyin' shit, you ain't gettin' his ear. If a customer only has "basic cable" and/or "economy" internet service...forget it. Seriously. They'll wait on hold...for...a...while. They may as well not even ask for a supe. They're lucky they got YOU.

(Notice how when a customer asks for a "supervisor" that they don't actually get a supervisor. That's hilarious. There will be more on that in a later blog.)

Despite the fact that you are very good at technical support (that isn't saying much, but still), and CastCom maxed out their salary grade to pull you from the company you worked for previously, they don't really want you doing technical support. What they really want you to do is sell stuff to the people calling in for technical support. In fact, CastCom could care less whether you help anyone or not with their technical issues. But you'd better sell some shit to them regardless.

It's completely ass-backwards. Uhg! And, boy, do the customers resent it.

Actually, here's the real sad fact: many of the morons who call technical support WILL BUY SOMETHING even if the other services they already have aren't working. It's ridiculous and horrifying. You always thought people were stupid, but this proves it.

You had a guy screaming at you the other day because his father had just come home from the hospital and the CastCom phone service wasn't working in his father's house. Let's call that guy Dusty Douchebag.

Dusty Douchebag had already called in twice, and some other unlucky rep had already scheduled a tech visit to fix the phone service within the federally-mandated 24-hour window, but Dusty Douchebag wasn't done screaming yet, and you were the lucky recipient.

Dusty Douchebag screams, "What the fuck is he supposed to do if he needs to call the hospital or 911?"

You said, "I'm sorry, sir, but the best we can do is a service call tomorrow afternoon."

Dusty Douchebag then went into a flurry of nasty expletives directed at you in a personal manner, and then demanded a technician be sent out immediately to fix his father's phone. So, to get Dusty Douchebag off the phone, you used a tactic you like to call "hard sell to the asshole."

"Hard selling to the asshole" is basically aggressively offering to sell them services in response to anything they say until they get annoyed enough to hang up the phone. This kills two birds with one stone: it gets the asshole off the phone, and if the call gets QA'ed, you actually don't get docked for being a prick to the customer...YOU GET A BETTER SCORE for attempting to upsell them.

Yeah, wow. Cool, huh? Feel free to use that at your own tech support and/or customer service job.

So, to Dusty Douchebag you said, "I can't get a technician out there until tomorrow, but you wouldn't believe the deal I can get your father on digital television. Just $39.99 for 6 months!"

What does Dusty Douchebag do? He actually paused...AND CONSIDERED THE OFFER. He suddenly stopped yelling...there was a long silence...and then he said, "Well, I'd like that, but I can't decide right now. I have too much other stuff to think about." Seriously. No exaggeration.

The False Tow

It's 7 AM, and Sweetie woke you up before she left for work so that you could move your car before it gets towed.

Well, it's your day off damnit. Why is the city towing your car on your day off? And why so goddamn early in the morning? Fucking city and their fucking temporary fucking we'll -tow-your-ASS-to-the-stone-age-signs.

When you get outside to move the car...you see the sign clearly states THURSDAY in giant red letters.

Uhg! Sweetie is soooooo gunna get it when she gets home tonight. She owes you dinner. You think you want a fried-oyster po' boy at Stella's Fish Cafe. That'll teach her to wake you up early in the morning on your day off because she doesn't want your car to get towed. Grrr.

Plus, you want the whole New Orleans experience with your po' boy. You're gunna order a hurricane, and you're gunna make her wear Mardi Gras beads and show you her boobs.

The Break Shit After Watching A James Cameron Movie

It's after work, and you are watching Aliens. This was one of your favorite movies as a kid.

You also liked The Terminator.

Perhaps if you had spent less time watching James Cameron's bleak science fiction movies over and over and over, you could have actually paid attention to something worthwhile...like studying algebra, or playing football.

Yet, here you sit...years later...still watching.

There are things you should break...starting with the television.

No. The first thing you're going to break is that fucking worthless Lexmark printer. What a god-awful hunk of shit that thing is. You had an HP Deskjet for like ten years, and it never failed you, but it wasn't compatible with your new laptop, so you were forced to purchase a new printer, and you bought a lame-ass fucking Lexmark X-series. Uhg! And it's never worked once. No exaggeration. Not once. It's junk. You're taking an aluminum baseball bat to it tomorrow.

The Advice for Guys

You should start by admitting that you don't know everything about women, and it would be very foolish of you to think that you did, and even more foolish for you to tell people that you did.

However, you've been in many, many, many various relationships with a long list of assorted ladies, and you've made many, many, many mistakes, and you've learned a lot...the hard way.

One of your favorite pastimes is people watching. You often go out to a bar, find a nice spot in the corner, and watch the show in the rest of the room. The most entertaining part of the show is watching the guys in the room attempt to meet and/or impress and/or talk to the women in the room, and it's always a pathetic scene.

And it’s not just the young guys either. It’s older guys too. It’s like, when it comes to women, men are incapable of retaining any sort of intellectual capacity. They just keep trying the same lame shit over and over and over.

Sidebar: Remember that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry does the stand up routine at the end about the guy who honks his car horn at women on the street. “Have you seen men doing this? What is this? The man is in the car. The woman walks by the front of the car. He honks the horn. This man is out of ideas.” That’s what you're talking about.



So, off the top of your head, here’s a few rules you think guys should follow:

1. Don’t be too available. Women will quickly learn to hate your guts if you’re around too much, or if you come running every time they call.

2. Don’t give women flowers. Uhg. Only dorks give women flowers. Giving women “courting gifts” is an antiquated concept. (This rule can only be broken if the woman in question is your mother. Or, if you’ve been in a relationship with a woman for a while, and it’s her birthday, or Valentines Day. Valentines Day is a stupid non-holiday, but if you want to get laid, you better put some thought into what you give her for V-Day. The best V-Day gifts are given in a way that it impresses her friends and coworkers, because women love to impress their friends and coworkers with their V-Day gifts.)

3. Don’t seek out women. Only dorks go out LOOKING for women. Women are perceptive. They know when you’re looking for a date, and they keep their distance from dorks on the prowl. Plus, women are everywhere, so why are you working so hard to find them?

4. Live your life. This is tied in closely with #1 and #3. A guy who spends every waking moment looking for a woman and/or attempting to impress a woman is NOT attractive. Women are everywhere, and they’re drawn to guys who live their lives.

5. If you’re going to hit on a woman, DO IT SOBER. Uhg. If you need liquid courage to talk to a woman, then you’re better off acting aloof (see #1 and #4). She may or may not find your aloofness attractive, but at least she won’t think you’re a drunken loser tool.

6. Have a spine. You are an individual, and individuals have beliefs and opinions that are different than other individuals, and this includes women. Nothing turns a woman off faster than a dork who agrees with everything she says. In fact...and this is important…if you like a woman, it’s imperative that you disagree with her A LOT, and be able to tell her why you disagree with her...IN DETAIL.

7. Don’t go out on dates. Only dorks “date” women, and women don’t date dorks. It’s a catch-22. (See #3 and #4 and #6.) If you’re going to a movie, by all means, take someone along…if it’s a woman, so much the better, but don’t just go to a movie because you need an excuse to spend time with a woman. Uhg. In other words, it’s not: “Do you wanna go to a movie with me, because I really like you and stuff.” It’s: “I’m going to see this band tomorrow night, and you’re coming with me. Why? Because you have terrible taste in music, and I’m going to change that. Be ready at seven if you know what's good for you.”

8. Women are crazy. Never attempt to rationalize their actions. All your failures with women will be well planned. If things are going too well in your relationship with a woman...it's a trap. And, last, but not least: The fight you are having with her is NOT the same fight she is having with you. Read that last sentence again. It's very important that you understand. Example: If she picks a fight with you about walking too fast, she's actually picking a fight with you because she thinks you think she's fat, even though you've never said anything about her being fat, and you don't think she's fat at all, but that doesn't mean she doesn't think you think she's fat, but she sure isn't going to get you to admit that you think she's fat, you son-of-bitch, because she can tell you think she's fat by how fast you're walking, so quit walking so goddamn fast, you prick, or she'll just sit there and pout until you reassure her that she isn't fat, and that's all she wanted when she picked that fight with you about walking too fast, and the fight about walking too fast will end as soon as you tell her she isn't fat by complimenting the dress she wore especially for you, but you didn't even notice her dress, you prick, but you complimented that other girl's hair two hours ago, and now you're walking too fast.

OK, that’s enough for now. Class dismissed.