Fuckerheads.

Let me make a point: It wasn't a bad day at work.

It was more annoying than anything else.


Back when I worked at the Arches, many moons ago, we had a term for those employees who would just stand around, barely doing their required jobs - we called them Fuckerheads.

Sure, the semi-professional (yet still frowned upon) term was Pylons, but I don't think that quite expressed my disdain for those people who I deemed worthy of the title. A Pylon, after all, serves a purpose and the staff I had to deal with some days didn't even qualify for that. (I believe the Management Training Guide calls them "Opportunities", but let's call a spade a spade.)

Some of the staff who work for me have Officially been crowned Fuckerheads.

It's to the point with one or two of them that I just shake my head and give up.

I work with a 30 year old woman who can't seem to complete an eight hour shift. She's either sick, injured, or has some unknown "medical condition". Watching her move is painful - she tops out at around snail speed. (Common Fuckerhead trait.)

Another one is about 45 and speaks like a six year old. She uses words like "doodie" and "caca" and the most maddening thing is that when you do have to talk to her, she won't look you in the eye. I'm not asking for a staring contest - just an acknowledgment that you are able to pay attention. (Classic symptoms of Fuckerhead status.)

I enjoy working with the younger staff more than these ladies. Even our newest front-end girls aren't half as crazy as these.

It's days like this that I miss being in charge of hiring and firing. At least then I had no one to blame but myself. My day will come soon though, and then the revolution will begin.

No more Fuckerheads.


Later.