Wednesday, October 29, 2008

why interoffice relations fail to work.

Office life is very dull, I do understand this. But while its dull, its just as incestual as the hardcore scene. Or maybe that's just my office.
I have heard about fistfights over girls in my office. I think that's really funny. Why would you take part in inter office relations anyway? I guess if life is dull, you can always flirt via e-mail.

There is one fellow in particular who thought itd be a great idea to attempt this with me.
On sundays, he would approach me awkwardly in the breakroom. His short pants hitting his ankles while he walked into the room, making a silly slapping sound. His 1998 faded black sideout shirt was an extra nice touch. Do they even still make sideout? Where would one aquire such a marvelous piece of clothing brand new?
He looked no older than 12, but his age was 21. He was from Kentucky, and wore a wedding ring on his finger.
If you're married.....act married. Please for the love of fucking god.
Anyway, his favorite topic of conversation with me was always baked goods. Challenging me to inter office baking contests while sheepishly smiling like the choir boy he portrayed himself to be. Of course, I like to satisfy peoples' wants by telling them what they want to hear when I don't want to be bothered, so I obliged while typing on my sidekick to someones away message, attempting to look occupied.
This went on for a couple of weeks, and then he e-mailed me about an expensive gourmet cake, and some pizza. I got the inkling he liked his women fat, so I just worked out harder. This fucker really was starting to chap my hide. I eventually started to ignore him.
One day, he let me know that his favorite type of music was German techno. I may listen to that in my spare time with the techno twins Schloz and Deter, but that does not mean I partake in German techno activities on a regular basis. I decided this fucker needed to get lost once and for all.

I just got stuck in the elevator with him, once again awkwardly pretending to talk to someone on my sidekick. I heard yesterday he told someone in the office that he hasn't gotten a vaccine since the 3rd grade. Ilegal? Yes. But I wouldn't put anything past a Kentucky asscreep.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

"if the jizzum isn't hizzum...."

Right after I turned 18, I got a job working for an 'adult' production company called BackEnd Productions. Meg Loyal got me the job because I was in dire need of work and she was the receptionist. I'm just that much of a smooth talker that I bullshit my way into this job. Little did they know that everyone they'd hire after me would eventually be the demise of the company.

The company was fairly new, so they hired outbound people to call mom and pop video stores to sell these dvds. Essentially I spent my day talking dirty to old women and Indian men named Patel from Nowhere, USA. Imagine talking dirty to your grandma. Yeah, sweet life.
The title we were selling was called "He Said, She Said" and it was a spoof on the Kobe Bryant case which was obvs the hot ticket at the time.
[Sidebar... Lexington Steel was in it and, and man, let me tell you...that fool has the biggest dick I've ever seen. Fuck that. Anyway...]
The best part about this job was when people would literally try to have phone sex with me. It happened all the time, and I could pretty much say whatever I wanted to them and/or hang up on them. Hanging up on people has to be one of the best things ever. It was also great when I had to call in the Bible Belt. If they sold porn, they would have me talk to someone else "in private" and they would talk about how porn is a sin and all this crazy religious stuff, and I was allowed to say, "Hey, you gotta get your rocks off somehow." The best response by far though was "we don't sell nigger one likes to watch white women get fucked by niggers."

Time went on, and we started hiring. So I somehow convinced my supervisor to hire Brooke. I begged him to hire her. Pleaded. And he finally did. And then he hired Sara. And Bijan. And Myke Turner. And pretty soon, the office was a big clusterfuck of hardcore kids who needed easy money. All my friends were working with me, and it ruled.
We spent the day bullshitting, making our supervisor do our work for us, eating hot cheetos, making fun of people's names (read: ANIL VATS) and listening to Bad Brains, Cro Mags and One Up [with some possible office mosh] I remember one day, Brooke and I went to our tattoo shop which was right next door, and she got tattooed on our lunch break.

At this point in time, Brooke and I drank ALOT. And by alot, I mean we'd go out at night, get trashed, go home at 2am, go to work at 7am, drink on our lunchbreak (her house was right down the street), go back to work, sell porn totally fucking hammered, go home, go out and do it all over again. It was awful, and I probably gained the brunt of my excess weight from drinking expensive fancy liqueours from France found in her dad's liquor cabinet.

Slowly, everyone started to get fired. Bijan and Myke were the first to go obviously because they were dudes. Then Sara. And it was just me and Brooke, because our boss loved us the most. (duh, obviously.) And then one day, Brooke got the axe. I was planning on going to Boston at the beginning of January, and a week before the trip, I was told the company was going under because we weren't selling enough, so I got laid off. I was so fucking upset. It was the best job I ever had. I got paid $10 +commish to fuck around with my friends all day long. And at the time, that was a pretty sizable amount for an 18 year old who didn't have any bills to pay.

No job has ever compared. RIP, BackEnd.