a day at the chronicle

2006.11.26 22.34

I'm going to post something I wrote years ago in the 1995 timeframe. I gave up, obviously, but what I did write down is pretty damn funny. Read on. Updates from my time in Houston will be forthcoming, incidentally, but in the meantime please step into the DeLorean time machine and enjoy this *fictionalized* recounting of a Day In The Life of a Houston Chronicle District Office Worker.

I woke up this morning, Friday, at 8:28 A.M. After blinking my eyes several times and convincing myself that, yes, I was going to be late for work, I got up. I waived the usual shower, shave, and deodorant and moved directly into the ''hell, I'll wear that'' zone. After a hasty departure from my house, I arrived at my job location at 8:50 A.M. I hopped out of my car, put a ''gosh I've had a tough morning'' look onto my face, and proceeded towards the rear entrance of the house. To the left of the gate is a concrete dog forever standing guard against any concrete intruders who might cross its path. I shoved the dog aside and removed the house keys from the secret compartment beneath him (or her -- I can't quite tell). Using the gold key with the ridges that aren't very even, I opened the door and threw the keys back into the compartment, unceremoniously shoving the dog back over and thus completing the transaction. I walked into the house and everyone was still asleep. Good deal! I walked over to the antique telephone that's in the living room and yanked its plug out of the wall. Once accomplishing this deception, I quietly walked up the staircase and entered The Office. I gracefully floated into my usual chair and began flipping switches on the various pieces of computer equipment that were at my disposal. Logging into the Chronicle's computer involves calling it, entering a password, and then it calls you back. This causes the phones to ring in the house... but... since I disconnected the only phone which can be heard upstairs, my boss' sleep continued unabated. I fumbled around for a good 15 minutes and sized up all of the complaints that people had left on the machine. Unfortunately, one of the messages on the machine was left by myself when I first woke up. I made the decision that once I heard all of the messages that I'd have to erase the tape with the bulk eraser (a large magnet used to erase videotapes that my boss happens to keep in a box full of crap in the office closet -- whether she knows that I know about it is another matter). I decompressed 45 minutes of work into two hours. My boss groggily came into the room. ''Hello Mrs. Roper,'' I thought to myself in silence while waving her in. She was wearing a giant blue robe which closely resembled a boat tarp. She seems to enjoy wearing the blue boat tarp and I have no qualms about her covering herself to that extent. After some meaningless chat, I brought up all the high points of my morning, trying to emphasize that I was saving them from bankruptcy with my every move. She excused herself and left the room to drink several cups of coffee and a eat a large pat of butter smeared onto cheap cookies, presumably to make certain that she didn't lose any of the weight that she'd gained the previous day. I stretched and stretched my work until I ran out of it. I then turned on the cable box and TV in the office and switched from The Discovery Channel to E! in hopes that the O.J. trial would be on. I was disappointed. O.J. wouldn't start until noon. So, I picked up the telephone, called a customer that I was supposed to contact in order to confirm that, yes, they actually did order the paper. The phone just rang and rang and rang. I kept my eye on E! and held up the printout with the customer's phone number. I did this for a good 42 minutes while some poor guy's phone rang at least 500 times in the background of my thoughts. Mrs. Roper interrupted my streak at 12:26 P.M. ''It's almost time to go'' she exclaimed. ''I'm just trying to reach this customer you were concerned about'' I replied. ''Oh good!'' she managed. After a moment or two, I sighed heavily and hung up the phone. ''It must have rung at least 500 times,'' I noted. She laughed, thinking that I was joking...

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Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed here are my own only and in no way represent the views, positions or opinions - expressed or implied - of my employers both past and present. « i'm not lovin' it \| Main \| tenacious d: pick of destiny » a day at the chronicle 2006.11.26 22.34 I'm going to post something I wrote years ago in the 1995 timeframe. I gave up, obviously, but what I did write down is pretty damn funny. Read on. Updates from my time in Houston will be forthcoming, incidentally, but in the meantime please step into the DeLorean time machine and enjoy this fictionalized recounting of a Day In The Life of a Houston Chronicle District Office Worker. I woke up this morning, Friday, at 8:28 A.M. After blinking my eyes several times and convincing myself that, yes, I was going to be late for work, I got up. I waived the usual shower, shave, and deodorant and moved directly into the ''hell, I'll wear that'' zone. After a hasty departure from my house, I arrived at my job location at 8:50 A.M. I hopped out of my car, put a ''gosh I've had a tough morning'' look onto my face, and proceeded towards the rear entrance of the house. To the left of the gate is a concrete dog forever standing guard against any concrete intruders who might cross its path. I shoved the dog aside and removed the house keys from the secret compartment beneath him (or her -- I can't quite tell). Using the gold key with the ridges that aren't very even, I opened the door and threw the keys back into the compartment, unceremoniously shoving the dog back over and thus completing the transaction. I walked into the house and everyone was still asleep. Good deal! I walked over to the antique telephone that's in the living room and yanked its plug out of the wall. Once accomplishing this deception, I quietly walked up the staircase and entered The Office. I gracefully floated into my usual chair and began flipping switches on the various pieces of computer equipment that were at my disposal. Logging into the Chronicle's computer involves calling it, entering a password, and then it calls you back. This causes the phones to ring in the house... but... since I disconnected the only phone which can be heard upstairs, my boss' sleep continued unabated. I fumbled around for a good 15 minutes and sized up all of the complaints that people had left on the machine. Unfortunately, one of the messages on the machine was left by myself when I first woke up. I made the decision that once I heard all of the messages that I'd have to erase the tape with the bulk eraser (a large magnet used to erase videotapes that my boss happens to keep in a box full of crap in the office closet -- whether she knows that I know about it is another matter). I decompressed 45 minutes of work into two hours. My boss groggily came into the room. ''Hello Mrs. Roper,'' I thought to myself in silence while waving her in. She was wearing a giant blue robe which closely resembled a boat tarp. She seems to enjoy wearing the blue boat tarp and I have no qualms about her covering herself to that extent. After some meaningless chat, I brought up all the high points of my morning, trying to emphasize that I was saving them from bankruptcy with my every move. She excused herself and left the room to drink several cups of coffee and a eat a large pat of butter smeared onto cheap cookies, presumably to make certain that she didn't lose any of the weight that she'd gained the previous day. I stretched and stretched my work until I ran out of it. I then turned on the cable box and TV in the office and switched from The Discovery Channel to E! in hopes that the O.J. trial would be on. I was disappointed. O.J. wouldn't start until noon. So, I picked up the telephone, called a customer that I was supposed to contact in order to confirm that, yes, they actually did order the paper. The phone just rang and rang and rang. I kept my eye on E! and held up the printout with the customer's phone number. I did this for a good 42 minutes while some poor guy's phone rang at least 500 times in the background of my thoughts. Mrs. Roper interrupted my streak at 12:26 P.M. ''It's almost time to go'' she exclaimed. ''I'm just trying to reach this customer you were concerned about'' I replied. ''Oh good!'' she managed. After a moment or two, I sighed heavily and hung up the phone. ''It must have rung at least 500 times,'' I noted. She laughed, thinking that I was joking... « i'm not lovin' it \| Main \| tenacious d: pick of destiny »