Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Three Rants (abridged)

OK, as I am sure you are all aware, I love the sound of my own voice. Therefore, I talk. A lot. Usually about nothing that interests you whatsoever. But being a good little monkey, you listen attentively, nod and make verbal affirmations in the appropriate places and generally put up with my endless diatribe of bullshit and blather.

And I thank you for that. Really, I do. I know enough that constantly talking about myself would bore the absolute fuck out of you, so I do try to keep that down to a barely tolerable level, but as far as the rest of my mind-numbing ramblings go... well let's just say I believe you have the patience of a saint. You smell like 3 day old fecal matter, but your saintliness is guaranteed based solely on your willingness to subject yourself to my excessive verbosity, or in this case, test-osity.

Which brings me to my point. My love of my own aural tones and ceaseless amusement with my personal mental meanderings tend to get in the way of any real productive work. Or in this case, timely entries to this little writing "exercise" of mine.

Exercise in mental masturbation, is more the case. But whatever... it makes me feel good, and that's good enough for me.

So, for the (however brief) time being, I pledge to get right to the heart of the matter and quit fucking around with the extraneous linguistic foreplay. So with that, I give you:

THREE RANTS

Dear New Guy:

When we hired you late last year to replace me here at the Ranch, we were looking for a top-notch employee who we (the Ranch, that is) could invest in heavily for the long term. We went through an exhaustive search, interviewed many applicants, asked and answered hundreds of questions, provided a thorough job description, clearly outlined our expectations of our ideal candidate, explained the benefits package and finally settled on you. When our decision had been made by committee (never an easy proposition in an operation like the Ranch), we extended our offer of employment with a very generous compensation package.* You did the obligatory dickering and took the appropriate time in responding to demonstrate you weren't too eager to come across the street.** But you finally accepted and began working for us just over 6 weeks ago.

So I hope you'll understand when I tell you that I more than just a little disappointed in your "performance" to date. See, we thought we had a knowledgable, skilled and motivated worker on our hands when we took you on. You indicated quite clearly that you were a high performer, with over ten years in the business, essentially doing exactly what you were hired for.

After you came aboard, I was tasked with your training and assimilation into the fold here at the Ranch. And I was very up front with you that I took this duty very seriously, as you represented my legacy here when I left later this year for Seminary. I conveyed to you clearly how important this was to me, and I was going to make it my highest priority to get you up to speed with the work practices and overall guiding philosophy here at the Ranch as soon as possible so you could start executing like the high-performer you presented yourself to be.

So why is it that within your first three days, I have to literally hunt you down for meeting with the Patriarch?!?! You're a friggin' adult, why do I suddenly have to babysit your ass? Oh right, because you had to take your ass out to the Golden Arches for mid-morning/afternoon snack. Or you were taking care of personal business on the Ranch's time!!

Now you may get away with that kind of shit in a year or two, but you have to earn those priviledges, motherfucker! Trust me, as long as I am around, your shit does NOT stink, and you will always be the low man on the totem pole.

Oh, and for someone who's got so much experience under your belt, why does it take you so fucking long to rope a calf, or even brand a cow? This is basic stuff, partner!! Oh, you had plebes to delegate the real work to at your last ranch?? Well I got news for you, we run a lean and efficient machine here. And when it comes down to bonus time, you'll understand why. But in the meantime, you'd best buckle the fuck down and learn how to work smart AND hard, until you've got the basics under control. Because right now, you clearly don't have a fucking clue on how to even ride a goddamn horse!

So please, do us all a favor: Quit disappearing without notifying the proper authorities, learn how to pull your own (rather abundant) wieght and quit making me look bad in my few remaining months here at the BEST JOB I'VE EVER HAD.



*For the record, our offer was more generous than the offer I ultimately negotiated for myself four years ago. You are welcome for profiting on my hard work.

** Yep, we recruited this clown from a high-volume ranch no more than two blocks away, a mere two weeks after recruiting another employee from the same competitor. How do you them apples, Asshat!


(stay tuned for Rants #2 and #3.)

4 comments:

Drunken Chud said...

yay roping. i miss it. i haven't even sat on a horse in the last 3 years. that kills me. i'm zen on the back of decent horseflesh. but, blew out my knee at a bar 3 years ago, needed medical insurance... yadda yadda yadda. hell, i even worked cattle for a little while. well, two weeks, but that's all i was recruited to do. they needed riders for a spring roundup. so my horse and i went. it's fun to use a competition roping horse for cattle work. you gotta have your head on a swivel cuz if you get a breakaway stray and you're not seated right... she's gone. makes for some interesting stories though.

~A~ said...

I'll actually read this tomorrow when I'm not seeing double and can read.

Just wanted to say that Rob has your Girl Scout cookies.

~A~ said...

Just start throwing tampons at him.

Prego said...

As soon as I read 'Golden Arches' I knew the homes was corpulent. I hate to admit it, but there's a direct correlation between an ample waistline and a lack of hustle. Busting out a tape measure during the interview would probably bring down some undue civil suit type of heat your way.

Sadly, it's not likely this rancher's work ethic/habits will improve much, so it looks like you've stepped in the manure pile. Time to relegate Porky Pig to the hayloft with a pitchfork, while you put the feelers out for one of them Yosemite Sam type MFs (though nobody really grows those assmop moustaches these days).