Tag Archives: workplace

A Discussion on Workplace Etiquette (or Don’t Steal my Lunch, You Jerks!)

Let me start off my addressing the thief who ate my frozen pad thai lunch. Who do you think you are, the decider of the future of wayward frozen meals? What do you just wait for the moment everyone has gone home and  you think, “yeah, now’s my chance! I’ll show them!” in the voice of Brain from Pinky and the Brain? And then you proceed to sneak into the break room and siphon off people’s lunches one small delicious bite at a time? Well sir, I’ve heard of the missing PB&J and deli meat sandwiches and I have heard of the souptastrophe of early April and may I just say… HOW DARE YOU?

Look at it! Look at what you stole from me!

Look at it! Look at what you stole from me!

Not only am I upset by the cahones you seem to have in the lunch thievery department but I am also offended for a multitude of other reasons. Like, where were you during fridge clean outs when I threw out five pounds of pinto beans and watered down coleslaw from that corporate luncheon? Where were you when that leftover chicken sandwich squirted it’s musty juices on my just washed denims? Were those leftovers not good enough for your thieving bear claws?!

And what confuses you about a frozen meal labeled Aly 4/14/14? Look at all those fours! It was so much fun to write! And it was a g-damn gluten-free veggie pad thai! You’ve now forced me to walk around the office aimlessly, like those birds who mysteriously found their way into a mall or a parking garage and cannot get out, searching for an answer. There will be payback and it will be tenfold. You’ve made a girl who cannot eat gluten VERY hungry and you know what they say about people who give up gluten…(you know, just that we’re cranky about not eating gluten but our bodies ultimately feel much better).

Now to you, man with lots of questions at our hour-long sexual harassment training. We get it, we get it, you’re REALLY into freedom of speech. So when someone tells you that explaining why same-sex marriage is wrong cannot happen in the workplace, you get all butthurt about it.


You: But the 1st Amendment guarantees I can say what I want without being penalized for being a pompous asshole who doesn’t understand how the law or morality and office etiquette works. (Stomps feet on the ground and shakes a baby rattle)

Big lawyer guy from NY office that knows more than you because he is an actual lawyer: Sure, you have freedom of speech but when you’re in the workplace there are other factors to take into consideration…Like how your speech effects the feelings of others. Is it offensive? Is it appropriate?

Me (to myself but pretending I’m the big lawyer man): And you know what is not in the constitution, Mr. dumbass —  may I call you Mr. Dumbass? — is a right to be employed, (Hence the whole, millions of people unemployed thing). [Drops mic]

free speech

Take it from me, a person who isn’t offended THAT easily (unless it’s something sexist, or racist, or anti-Dog Whisperer): No one wants to hear your slightly hateful rhetoric defending the First Amendment. And I get it, because I’m white and privilege is deep ingrained into my psyche as well, that you think you should be able to say WHATEVER your little-man-penis desires but that’s just not the case anymore, sir. You can, however, find hope that Mad Men still has a new season for you to “spank the monkey” too as Don Draper and his cronies use their free speech to degrade every woman they come into contact with. Hey, you could even make it into a drinking game — that seems fun and well-suited to your douchebag dispositions. Enjoy liver failure in ten years! Free speech rocks!

What sort of workplace injustice have you overcome? Was “hugs happen” also a takeaway from your workplace harassment training?


Have you guys been hanging out without me?

I have officially relegated ya’ll to second cousin I don’t keep in touch with status and I’ve had enough. (I’m beginning to think my digestive system is punishing me for not posting in the form of it no longer working.)

work ecardI got a job, everyone. I started on Monday and deciding what to wear each day has felt like one of those choose your own adventure dates where I ultimately will end up wearing a short skirt in a trampoline factory with my laundry day panties on.

The problem is I hadn’t stepped in the office yet to observe the casual dress cues, the dos and don’ts, the don’t-ever-wear-as-much-cheetah-print-as-Susan-from-Finance-has-on warning. I was interviewed through the interwebs, with two people that work in the New York headquarters, not even the Austin office. The women’s top half, from what I could tell, was dressed with a simple peach/beige button up shirt, presumably from Banana Republic or Ann Taylor. I would have to start becoming okay with shopping at the Loft. I could do this. I was a shopper at heart, anyways.

It was also just a few weeks ago when I realized it was no longer appropriate for me, as a 24 year old, to shop at Forever 21. This was a tough call to make — I had just bought a super cute Mexican inspired high-low skirt and was wearing it doing errands when I was stopped by an eleven-year-old girl who asked me where I got such a cute skirt. Instead of acknowledging the compliment, I stopped, as if  I was tapped by a five year old playing freeze tag, and hoped she’d move on to mortify the next 24 year old dressed like a preteen, who might not take it as such a vitriolic personal attack.

But before the whole I-got-a-job-and-the-world-is-right-again attitude, I had a few breakdowns. Hence the not posting for two weeks. The last two weeks can be characterized by images of Matti playing me the song “True Colors” and “Hakuna Matata” while I watch Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition, and by me buying eight of the same Banana Republic cardigans in different colors and trying on twelve different variations of the same outfit for my first day of work like I was trying out for the lead part in Working Girl 2. There would also be a picture of me shamefully discovering and subsequently, devouring the reality show Below Deck with Matti in the background cupping his face in his hands defeatedly because he’d rather read Murakami while listening to Joni Mitchell than watch most television programming (hands off, ladies).

So it seems I had been out of the game too long. And by game I mean getting dressed and leaving the house. Monday would be interesting. And it was. Mainly in the sense that I didn’t ruin everything I touched. Oh, and being an Office Coordinator AKA Pam Beasley (more glamorous) is nothing like being an After school Director — it seems that children need more directing and coordinating than adults. Also, childcare employees need to get paid more like a billion yesterdays ago. Basically, I spent most the of the first day amazed at the socially accepted practice of writing an email message solely using the subject line. Come to the front office for your package, you animals!

oh, and I also learned this

oh, and I also learned this

I think I’m gonna really jazz the place up and hopefully get some of those “health benefits” I’ve heard so much about over the years. I feel a little rusty, but the Leslie Knope inside of me cannot be silenced–but If I don’t witness some serious office hijinks soon I’m gonna be so pissed.

Yeah Write…it feels so good.