well this is annoying

I made it into work on the school bus provided by my law firm. The Goldman Sachs people got fancy buses. But I guess we are lucky to get anything. Time is money. They will give you no excuse to miss work. The supervisor of all the secretaries made his rounds this morning to make sure everyone made it in. They mean business around here. Hopefully this doesn't last too long because it is too cold to be walking around waiting for buses. Besides I had to wake up a half hour early. The ride was entertaining enough. Everyone was actually really nice - perhaps there is something about a crisis that bonds the city together. Whatever. Some of the attorney's are still afraid to speak to the secretaries. Who do they think copies all those documents they read? And I am sure a missing page here and there could change a whole lot of things in those contracts they are always getting signed. Just saying.

The ride into the city was actually kind of nice. It is nice to be above ground once and a while. The unfortunate part was that I also had to share the bus with Clay Aiken's biggest fan and the mentally handicapped couple that works on the 19th floor. My oh my. May they be well, but I spent about a half hour trying to block out the voice of this woman. Let's just call her Aiken. She was given that nickname by a few friends of mine not only because of her unwavering passion for the artist we all know and love, but because she some how managed to replicate Clay Aiken's exact haircut on her own head. How lovely. But the mouth on this woman. She would put many a sailor to shame. She was "whispering" something to someone at the front of the bus about Marge and I am almost positive Marge must have heard what was said all the way on Staten Island. She is so fucking loud. Anyway, some people need coffee to wake up in the morning but all I needed was a brisk 12 block walk and that woman's voice in my ear for a half an hour.

Then there is the mentally handicapped couple. I am not sure what they do here. The only thing I know for sure is that they make it really uncomfortable in the elevator, but that's another story. But all I know is that the woman, I'm not sure her name, kept asking Pam about how her dog is doing. I have only seen Pam a few times in my entire stint here at the firm and each time this woman was asking her about her dog. They work on the same floor so I can only imagine how many times that conversation must actually take place.

Pam wasn't to excited to indulge this woman in conversation. I can understand why but, and this maybe seem a little inappropriate, but if you are going to befriend a mentally handicapped woman then you should probably be patient. And if you aren't going to be patient, then, well do what I do, put on head phones and turn in the other direction. Not that you shouldn't befriend mentally handicapped people (I am actually not a fan of befriending anyone at all - mentally handicapped or not) but if you do then you have to be nice. Pam's annoyance became everyone's annoyance once this woman started talking/shouting about the MTA and the union and how Manhattan is no place for cars. And how everyone should get their driver's license renewed. Or something like that.

But since I have transportation to work the strike isn't really going to effect me too much. I just feel bad for those last minute Christmas shoppers and Holiday travelers. Not to mention all the displaced homeless people and men and women who are getting docked pay because they couldn't get to work. Of course the poor people are constantly getting screwed. The rich people never seem to be effected by stuff like this. One of the partners was annoyed by the fact that some of the roads that were blocked off but he still makes over a million a year, and had a ride to work, so...what's the problem? He also didn't have to get up any earlier or walk 12 blocks only to sit on a yellow school bus with an American Idol runner up. A couple people at work compared the strike to a form of terrorism. I just tried not to laugh. Calm down people no one is dropping any bombs.

Although I have made some new friends on my bus, the main inconvenience for me is that this strike has forced me to socialize more with my co-workers. Not to mention the fact that the "tea hostesses" didn't make it in so the snack cabinet is all locked up. I mean come on. Where is the contingency plan for that? How I am I supposed to get my 3pm sugar fix? Can't they send someone around with some cookies. You can't have cookies one day and not have cookies the next day. It just isn't right. If they can get buses to Staten Island then they surely can get someone to unlock the snack cabinet.

The office and streets are eerily quiet. Kind of nice. Jake worked from home but still managed to be a pain in my ass. Since the obsessive compulsive mailroom clerk was the only mailroom guy to show up, more time has been spent straightening the mail than actually delivering it. So what does this mean? It means the documents Jake wanted taken down to Blaine's office had to be hand delivered by me. And let me just tell you Blaine and I aren't the closest of friends. He is a senior partner. Partners are quite the enigma. I can't tell if they never learned social skills or they lost them along the way some how. Either way obnoxious.

So I go out of my way to drop off his papers because the mailroom is out of commission and he looks at me like I am a crazy person. "These are supposed to be in a binder." I just stood there looking at him. Then he sat there looking at me while chewing on his salad that had the most offensive odor. Or perhaps the odor was him. Either way it stunk in that office. Maybe that is just what 20 years of mergers and acquisitions will do to a man. Anyway I am still just standing there because it is 1:01 and technically I should be at lunch. I was just waiting for a thank you. I suppose I should have learned long ago that if I wait for that around here (with the senior partners) I will be waiting a long time. Then he says "These are supposed to be in a binder. This was supposed to be hole punched." And? I think to myself. I wasn't in charge of hole punching and bindering. I was just delivering it. Blaine is still looking at me with that face like I should know what he is thinking already. And I am still looking at him waiting for my thank you or at the very least a dismissal of some sort. So we are just looking at each other. Each of us clearly waiting for something we aren't going to get. Then, bam I figure out what he wants! He wants ME to hole punch it.

People around here sometimes have trouble asking for things. They make a statement and just assume that you know what it is they are talking about. And they just assume that you know you are the one who is supposed to do it. Like "the printer is out of paper." Ok. So, do you mean you want me to put paper in the printer? Or you just want me to know it is out of paper in case I was trying to print? "there is a jam in the copier." Once again. Am I supposed to fix that jam or...you just wanted me to know there is a jam? I don't get it.

Back to Blaine. I had already had a sneaking suspicion that those documents were supposed to be hole punched but I wasn't the one who made the copies and I wasn't the one who filled out the forms for duplication. I was merely the one who was kind enough to walk it all the way down to Blaine's office so he wouldn't have to wait for it to get there through inter-office mail. No one asked me to hole punch anything and like I said before I have a strict policy about not taking initiative so I decided that he could see to it being hole punched himself.

So Blaine is still looking at me with that, "get to it" face. And at this point even though I know what he wants taken care of, I pretend I don't. Who the fuck does he think he is? Well I know exactly who he thinks he is. He thinks he is important. He thinks what he says matters. Perhaps it matters to some people. And he might have Jake jumping through hoops to get him his copy of the latest credit agreement but I am not going to jump through anything for this guy. I am perhaps just as used to getting things my way as he is used to getting things his way. Let's just say I know how these people operate. "This was supposed to be hole punched." Puuulease. It was supposed to be hole punched? Sorry. Why don't you hole punch it? Surely you can manage that on your own. You made it to work today. You even managed to put on a tie. So clearly your motor skills are developed enough. All you have to do is put the paper in that little thing and push down. After a few moments of silence and him repeating his statement I said "oh". He looked at me amazed and astonished that I was not only still standing in his office but that the document in his hands was still NOT hole punched. Finally I gave in. My stomach was growling and I was running late. So I said "do you want me to hole punch it?" He said yes or something to that effect. So I dropped it off to be hole punched and crossed my fingers it would make it back to his office before he started bitching again about getting it back.

But other than Blaine, Aiken, and that other woman I had a very nice day. In fact I had a great day. Now let's just get this thing resolved guys so I don't have to spend any more time on a fucking school bus.