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This demeans both gendors in a specificolly greator way. The man dares not raise his voice because a man is not alowed to hollor at a woman. Atleast where I work. In any case most of the day was spent with her hollerin and screamin at me.
Well the problom was that in 3 or 4 places on the spredsheet, the Doller sign woudnt show up on one of the colunms. I kept reworking it, and she kept comin back to me to scream at me when the Dollor sign woudnt show up. There were hundrets of colunms on the spreadsheet, and only a few were missing. If you ever worked with Excel you know that this somtimes hapens. There isnt a danm thing you can do about it but recreate the colunm.
"CALL THE TECH SUPPORT LINE AT THE COMPANY THAT MAKES THAT SOFTWARE!" she screamed at me.
I told her that the compeny that makes Exel DOES NOT have a tech suport line unless you pay for it. And besides the danm thing is buggy, and no one can fix it anyway.
Well she thoght I was B.S.'ing her. Then she screammed at me that I shoud call the company up and demand that they send somone out to our office to fix it for FREE. I said that Micrasoft does not do that. Then she said that we woud no longer use any of their products, and that I shoud call them, and tell them this.
I sat there sqiurming and this must of made her feel very poworful, but the fact is I was sqiurming more from my withrdrawn and retracted state (Um, which I wrote abbout before) rathor than from actual fear or humiliattion of gettin hollered at in front of the whole danm office.
Finaly the way it ended up she had me on the danm phone to Microsoft's main switchboard in Redmund, Wash., and sit there on hold, in order to tell Microsoft, "That we will never buy any of there products agian."
This, as if Microsoft actualy gives a crap. This is how I spent half the day.
The way i got rid of her was when she asked me who is the "big competitor" of the company who makes this product and I said I did not know.
She said, (realy screamed) at me, "How coud you be so stupid as to not know?" and I said I DONT KNOW THAT EITHOR.
She was so pissed she just stomped off, shreikking and screammin very loud about how ignorent I was, and how much worser it is to be ingnorent than to be stupid, even though I was strongley both.
Belive it or not the Lady Who Screams At Everyone is not a bad looking womon. Even thuogh she is marreid (and though also that I am 100% certian that she is NOT my "secret Admiror"), I tell you I think realy woudnt mind it if she were. The only thing is, that if you ever went out with her youd have to shove a friggin rag or somthing in her danm moulth.
I was glad when she was gone cause I had to pee really bad. As soon as she left I got up and went to the bathroom, the new stupid Unisex bathroom inspired by the danm Alley McBeal show in order to inprove morale that I wrote about in one of my recent updates.
Well in the sittuation i am in, (deep in), I cannot stand at a urinol like a man. I had to go into the stall and let it dribble out. Parden me for writtin about it but it helps to ease the emotionol pain. The worst part these past few weeks is whenevor I leave the stall there is allways one or two women waiting to use the bowl. They allways have to give me this dirty look like, "why do you haveto use the stall to pee, you have those things ovor there.
Returning down the hall to my workstattion I see my boss coming toword me. My new boss is this extremly mean tall skinney guy who is allways angry and pissed and dresses all in black who looks exactley like the pointey-chinned cartoon man with the big round glasses you alwayes see in the margins of the "...For Dummies" book sereis.
The way our office is set up there are these long halls with cubicols on either side. You have to walk down these halls to go where you need to go and if someon is aproaching in the opositte direction you have to watch them as the aproach. Its very embbarassing becuase you cant say hello when your 150 feet apart but even still you have to pass them. Allot of peoplle try to avert there eyes. Which is what I treid to do when this guy aproached. In fact i actualy treid to run defense past him to the side. But no, he coght me anyway.
"I am not authorrized to install softwear," I said to him.
He replied, "I am authorizing you right now."
Then me and him both got into a sort of an argoument. We didnt realy argue; it was just him hollerin at me to make me agree to install it. I sure was willing to install it, (if only to shut him up). But even if I wanted to, I dont have the network permisions. As he hollored at me, a small crowd grew in the hallway.
"I know that eithor Danny or Jill can instal it," I said. Boy as soon as I said that he hit the cieling.
"So, you're saying to me, 'That's Not My Job'?"
I said, "No! I am just sayin I cannot do it: I am not sayin I dont want to do it," and my voice was tremblin and I was very upset. I do not like confrontattions. I am very meek. Actauly I am a coword and a wuss.
He got more and more loudor and very upset, and he kept trying to accuse me of sayin, 'That's Not My Job,' but I was not.
"Because," he screammed, while looking around at the others asembled in the hallway, ovbiously pleased that he had an audeince, "One thing we do NOT say here at Cyberblop is, 'That's Not My Job'!"
Finaly I put my head down and said, "OK."
Then the creepy evil "...For Dummies" lookin guy made a snorty "Harrumph!" sound, and then stomped off down the hall like some sort of cartoon charactor who just had an anvil fall on his head or somthin.