Thursday, November 09, 2006

King of Pain

I was asked to mentor a new hire who's based in the Eastern European country of Bulgrohungria. As if my workload wasn't huge enough already, I gotta make time to hold someone else's hand while leading him down the path of knowledge in $MegaCorp support. Let's call him "Paul".

This mentoring shit's been going on for the past week and a half and today I rejoice. My job is already complete. I can teach him no more:

Paul (09:24:52): I'm starting to get the feeling that some customers are in fact idiots

He's only been with us for eight days and he understands. He groks. I am so fucking good.

We hit it off from the start in IM and he learned there's someone in the company who will not only talk and write like a real person, he's got a great source for improving his English swearing vocabulary. He's young but seems pretty good. He also claims to have a nice FTP site. We shall see.

I've been working the poor bastard, too. He just started and he's already taking at least one ticket a day. He's willing to do the work and making me look good in doing so as well. He's getting sweeties right now but soon, very soon... I'm certain I can cut him loose inside two months rather than the normal six. I still won't get any fucking promotion next year.

But there's always bad news. I have to get up at 0-dark-thirty in the ante and fly halfway across the fucking planet in a week I really need to be home. Ten days on the Left Coast, five of which will be in accelerated workshops, mostly in areas I don't know or ever work in. Because the plane ticket was so expensive coming home over the weekend, I have to stay until the following week.

My manager -- Vera -- actually wants me to check out of the hotel I'm in and go somewhere cheaper after the workshops are all over. The office co-ordinator, however, is telling her to stick it. Maybe they'd pull shit like that at $BigCorp but this is $MegaCorp and since I'm already giving up my weekend to save the company a few thousand, I don't have to waste half a day changing hotels to save the company another hundred bucks.

Once I get back I get to spew these 90-minute workshops back out as full 4-hour presentations to spread the knowledge.

It's all the fault of the DHS. The guy who could've gone didn't, not only because he has a hot wife and a couple kids, but also because his passport's not machine-readable and he doesn't want to go through that fucking dehumanizing hell that is the U.S. Customs and Border Control experience. All of the oppressive shit that they've done, all the time they waste, all the privacy they violate, all the power games they play, all of the destroyed baggage items, all of the harmless items confiscated, and it hasn't made flying one iota safer.

Fuckwits.
x-posted from HuSi, where there's also a poll.

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In compliance with $MegaCorp's general policies as well as my desire to
continue living under a roof and not the sky or a bus shelter, I add this:

DISCLAIMER:
The views expressed on this blog are my own and
do not necessarily reflect the views of $MegaCorp, even if every
single one of my cow-orkers who has discovered this blog agrees with me
and would also like to see the implementation of Root Cause: 17-Fuckwit.