A surprisingly amusing work bitch

Work was interesting yesterday. I actually had a guy I worked with priss (and I don't use this term lightly) out of a meeting he had called. To ask my help. Marketing is launching this new program at work, and they have asked for my help in getting one of the agencies involved. I of course told them I would. That has been over a year ago. I got the information they asked for, got the agency prepared, then nothing happened for nine months.

They again came to me for the same information, and asked for me to get the agency involved, and set up a conference call with the president of the agency, which after 59 times I suggested that didn't work, I finally did. They were late to the call. As I was holding with the president of this company on the line, one of the women involved had to go physically find one of the guys who had asked that the call be set up. After that they kept the president on the phone for 45 minutes lobbing marketing generalities at him and congratulating each other. Needless to say I was embarassed. They did finally get around to asking some pertinent questions and he gave them the infomation they needed, as well as direct contact information. That was about three months ago.

This morning, I was informed that a meeting had been scheduled for today that I was expected to attend. I suspected that what they wanted could have been done with an email, and I was right, but marketing seems to like to have lots of face-to-face meetings where there is lots of fuss and bother and very little gets accomplished. When I showed up for this one, the guy who called it of course was not there. When he finally did get there, he started asking me for all information on the agency. From the ground up. For the third time. I told him I wanted specifics on what he wanted, and he just kept saying "Steps! Steps is what I need!" When I asked for clarification, reminding him that he had already been given a lot of information twice already, he said "You just send me the things they sent in writing then!" and stormed out in best wounded drag queen fashion. Now seldom am I out-queened at work, where my royalty is acknowledged. Usually, this is the kind of thing that would really piss me off, but oddly the whole thing struck me as funny. Chuckling, I went back to my desk, sent him an email, and told him if he would send me some specs, I would round the information up. Again. I'll keep copies of it all this time. Since this group apparently has the organizational skills of a rabid muskrat. That was what he was mad about, I figured out. They had lost all the information (or didn't take a single note during the last ballyhoo'd conference call), and he was pissed that I called him on it. I never have suffered fools gladly.