© 2015
My work could be done by a monkey. A flea-bitten, overripe specimen of the wild and poop-flinging variety. Seriously. What I do is not rocket science; it is not brain surgery; it is neither life-saving, nor revolutionary. It's... a job.
One of the goals I had on my agenda today was a relatively simple one. Order pizza and soda for 50 students; put in a work order for 50 folding chairs (per a faculty’s request) and 2 tables from Facilities (for aforementioned 50 students and pizzas and drinks); request a/v for the guest speaker who was planning to talk from 11:30-12:30 about the new Museum of Art and its partnership with R------- College.
My work could be done by a monkey. A flea-bitten, overripe specimen of the wild and poop-flinging variety. Seriously. What I do is not rocket science; it is not brain surgery; it is neither life-saving, nor revolutionary. It's... a job.
One of the goals I had on my agenda today was a relatively simple one. Order pizza and soda for 50 students; put in a work order for 50 folding chairs (per a faculty’s request) and 2 tables from Facilities (for aforementioned 50 students and pizzas and drinks); request a/v for the guest speaker who was planning to talk from 11:30-12:30 about the new Museum of Art and its partnership with R------- College.
We have visiting artists and lecturers throughout the year.
It is the job of us all to get the catering ordered, room configuration and audio-visual
needs requested and sussed-out on a daily basis. It’s not a glamorous job, but
someone needs to do it. It’s not a big deal. You place an order over the phone.
You get the details from the faculty or department head in charge of the event.
You get the a/v needs from the visiting artist. You put in a facilities work
order for chairs, tables, configuration. You put in a ticket to IT for any a/v
needs. Again. Put a monkey at a keyboard and it could probably figure this
stuff out before long.
Today, literally every opportunity for failure was met with not just flying colors. It was a crap-tacular rainbow of insanity that ended with a pot of something quite other than gold.
A few days ago, I put in my work order to Facilities for 50 chairs for the audience and two tables to hold the pizzas, drinks, cups, plates, and napkins. The same day, I put in my a/v order to IT for a podium and a lapel mic for the guest speaker. The faculty member running this deal told me he had not been able to get hold of the guest speaker, so I emailed her directly and asked for her a/v needs, if any. Amazingly, she responded soon after, telling me it was going to be super-simple—she didn’t need a lapel mic, nor did she need a podium, and she would not be giving a visual presentation like PowerPoint or anything like that. It was going to be a very informal but informative talk, and she said it would make my life so much easier. I thanked her, though I wasn't able to figure out if her response was genuine or just a PR snowjob, but I didn't care. The next morning, I sent a cancellation to IT for the lapel mic and podium. Twenty-four hours before an event is more than reasonable to cancel a request.
I called the pizza place shortly after cancelling my a/v request to place my order. I didn’t normally request pizza deliveries to this particular Fine Arts building, but I was informed by a coworker who had done it innumerable times in the past (she used to support the Fine Arts department, and now it has become my new responsibility, as all of our roles got shuffled a couple of months ago, without any discussion). She said it was never an issue, that the delivery people she had dealt with knew exactly where to go. When I spoke to the guy taking the order, I explained in minute detail where the delivery needed to go. I even gave him both of the names that the building went by (because, like many highways and streets in Florida, several of our buildings on campus are known by at least two, sometimes three, names). He assured me it would not be a problem, that they were all very familiar with our campus.
A little later that day, the instructor who was "overseeing" this event stopped by my cubicle to see if there was anything he could do to assist with the event. I told him no, that the tables and chairs were ordered, the pizzas and chilled drinks were ordered, and that when I got hold of the guest speaker the day before, she said she needed literally nothing from us as far as audio-visual went. He half-smirked and said, “Well… I talked to her last night, and she does. But it’s not a big deal.” He explained that she'd decided she did want to give a video presentation, and that one of the other faculty would bring his Macbook and set it up for her, no sweat. He added that there was no need to involve IT a third time, that they could handle it, have done it many times before. But about the chairs…. Yeah, we need fifty chairs, and "if they could be arrange in sort of a horseshoe pattern, facing the screen, that would be great." He even scribbled down a drawing of the layout. “Oh, and have the chairs and tables delivered at 11:00 a.m., not 11:15.” So, armed with this new info, I forwarded the original work order to the Facilities Operations assistant with all of the amended details, and even embedded the drawing of the layout for setup. Covered every base. There could be no questions.
Later that afternoon, the Facilities Operations assistant emailed me back to say that the Assistant Director of Facilities was out this week, and that there was a new woman on the Facilities team being trained-- adding that it would be "really helpful" if I could walk over to the studio space at 11:00 a.m. the next day to “make sure” that the chairs were set up the way we wanted, because they had just hired this woman and since she was new, she might not get it entirely right. Never mind that there’s a crystal clear drawing to illustrate where the chairs need to go in the email that I've sent, along with written instructions.
The morning of the event, I received another email from the aforementioned Facilities Operations assistant, stating that they could not set up the chairs at 11:00 a.m., that there was a class in that studio from 8:30-11:15. I looked at the schedule. The person teaching in the studio was the same faculty who told me to have the chairs/etc. delivered at 11:00 a.m., so I could only assume that he was fine with them coming into the studio at that time. He'd probably cut the class short prior to the speaker’s arrival. I picked up the phone to call her directly, but she didn’t pick up. I hung up and went across the way to get a cup of water. When I came back, I had two voicemails waiting for me.
The first message was from the Facilities Operations assistant, explaining that the new woman they hired went over to the studio (bear in mind, this call was made BEFORE 11:00 a.m., so now I’m really confused, wondering why anyone had gone over to the studio twenty minutes before I requested) and was told by the instructor that she needed to come back at 11:15. I’m like, HE’S the one who requested that the chairs/etc. be brought OVER at 11:00! With that, the new hire chimes in, in the background, and tells the Facilities Operations assistant, “No, no, he told me to come back at 11:00.” So I’m thinking, does anyone know what the hell is going on? Seriously? I said, great. Have her deliver them at 11:00, and hung up.
The second message was from the pizza place. “Yeah, I’m just calling about your order… there’s no location listed on it, but I think you’ve ordered in the past for the Academic Center, so, I'm gonna assume you want this to go to the second floor? If you want to call us back at…” I immediately dialed them up and informed them that I had given an extremely detailed account of where the pizzas and drinks had to go yesterday, even provided two different names of the studio-- NOT the Academic Center, which is a whole different building further up the road. The guy told me that their driver didn’t know where the studio was located—that their FRIDAY driver was familiar with the location, but (God forbid, this was THURSDAY, after all)… Not to worry, that all of their drivers were pretty familiar with campus, and with my directions, it shouldn’t be a problem.
I walked down to the studio with my bag of paper cups, napkins and plates at 11:00 a.m., and the faculty in there wasn’t the faculty I had been originally speaking with—it was a different one. He got up and took the class into the Fine Arts Faculty office across the courtyard, and a couple of other Fine Arts students walked in, clearly a half-hour early for the guest speaker. One of them mumbled, “Where’s the food..?”
That’s when I noticed that there were chairs already set out in a horseshoe pattern. Some were folding chairs, but the rest were these beat-up, paint-spattered classroom chairs. So I started counting them—and there were at least fifty. That's when a Facilities cart pulled up, and a guy started unloading a stack of chairs. Set next to another stack of chairs. I apologized to him profusely, telling him and the new lady that as it turns out, we really didn’t need all these chairs, but since they already had one stack out, they could place them inside, and take the rest back. They set up the two tables, and were soon on their way. I called one of my coworkers back at our office (the one who used to assist Fine Arts) because I was not feeling that confident about the pizzas showing up.
About sixty seconds later, I saw Melanie, one of IT’s a/v people, ride up on her golf cart. Then I saw her walk into the studio. I’m thinking, wait a minute, I thought they didn’t NEED a/v assistance… I just let it go.
My coworker back at my office called the pizza place and got the driver’s cell #, talked to him briefly, then called me back and said he knew where he was going, that he was in a red car, and not to worry. Just stand outside the studio (which faces the road) and watch for him. In the 99% humidity. My hair was beginning to stick to the back of my neck, and my face felt damp. Just gross. It had been threatening rain all morning, and here I was, with no umbrella.
At this time, I saw Melanie come back out of the studio and head to her golf cart. I said “So, it turns out they needed a/v assistance after all?” She kind of smirked and said, “Sorta… we got it figured out,” in a very cryptic tone, and drove away.
The pizzas/drinks showed up close to 11:15. I started setting out the pizzas and Madison, one of the Fine Arts students (who happens to be a student worker of ours with whom I get along well), stood up with a friend and helped put everything out on the tables. Meanwhile the rest of the students converged on the pizzas like zombie locusts. The first kid lifted a box lid and started laughing. I overheard him and another guy make a comment about how one of the pieces looked like it had a bite already taken out of it (I would hazard a guess that it probably stuck to the inside of the lid and probably ripped off and made it look like a bite, but I did not look, did not want to know, did not get involved; I was just glad he didn't start bitching that there was a giant BUG squashed into the cheese. I think I would have just hightailed it out of there at that point).
I gathered up my bag and said goodbye to Madison, thanking her for her help, and as I was walking out, I saw the faculty who had me arrange this heading toward the studio. I noticed that he looked a little frazzled. I told him everything was set up and good to go, to which he said, “I haven’t seen Anne-Marie [guest speaker] yet. Is she in there?” I just looked over my shoulder and said “Nope, I haven’t seen her…” And went on my merry way. All out of fucks to give, as the kids like to say these days.
About four hours later, I saw the Fine Arts department head and asked if everything went all right, dreading the response. He said everything was fantastic and went off without a hitch. Go figure.
Today, literally every opportunity for failure was met with not just flying colors. It was a crap-tacular rainbow of insanity that ended with a pot of something quite other than gold.
A few days ago, I put in my work order to Facilities for 50 chairs for the audience and two tables to hold the pizzas, drinks, cups, plates, and napkins. The same day, I put in my a/v order to IT for a podium and a lapel mic for the guest speaker. The faculty member running this deal told me he had not been able to get hold of the guest speaker, so I emailed her directly and asked for her a/v needs, if any. Amazingly, she responded soon after, telling me it was going to be super-simple—she didn’t need a lapel mic, nor did she need a podium, and she would not be giving a visual presentation like PowerPoint or anything like that. It was going to be a very informal but informative talk, and she said it would make my life so much easier. I thanked her, though I wasn't able to figure out if her response was genuine or just a PR snowjob, but I didn't care. The next morning, I sent a cancellation to IT for the lapel mic and podium. Twenty-four hours before an event is more than reasonable to cancel a request.
I called the pizza place shortly after cancelling my a/v request to place my order. I didn’t normally request pizza deliveries to this particular Fine Arts building, but I was informed by a coworker who had done it innumerable times in the past (she used to support the Fine Arts department, and now it has become my new responsibility, as all of our roles got shuffled a couple of months ago, without any discussion). She said it was never an issue, that the delivery people she had dealt with knew exactly where to go. When I spoke to the guy taking the order, I explained in minute detail where the delivery needed to go. I even gave him both of the names that the building went by (because, like many highways and streets in Florida, several of our buildings on campus are known by at least two, sometimes three, names). He assured me it would not be a problem, that they were all very familiar with our campus.
A little later that day, the instructor who was "overseeing" this event stopped by my cubicle to see if there was anything he could do to assist with the event. I told him no, that the tables and chairs were ordered, the pizzas and chilled drinks were ordered, and that when I got hold of the guest speaker the day before, she said she needed literally nothing from us as far as audio-visual went. He half-smirked and said, “Well… I talked to her last night, and she does. But it’s not a big deal.” He explained that she'd decided she did want to give a video presentation, and that one of the other faculty would bring his Macbook and set it up for her, no sweat. He added that there was no need to involve IT a third time, that they could handle it, have done it many times before. But about the chairs…. Yeah, we need fifty chairs, and "if they could be arrange in sort of a horseshoe pattern, facing the screen, that would be great." He even scribbled down a drawing of the layout. “Oh, and have the chairs and tables delivered at 11:00 a.m., not 11:15.” So, armed with this new info, I forwarded the original work order to the Facilities Operations assistant with all of the amended details, and even embedded the drawing of the layout for setup. Covered every base. There could be no questions.
Later that afternoon, the Facilities Operations assistant emailed me back to say that the Assistant Director of Facilities was out this week, and that there was a new woman on the Facilities team being trained-- adding that it would be "really helpful" if I could walk over to the studio space at 11:00 a.m. the next day to “make sure” that the chairs were set up the way we wanted, because they had just hired this woman and since she was new, she might not get it entirely right. Never mind that there’s a crystal clear drawing to illustrate where the chairs need to go in the email that I've sent, along with written instructions.
The morning of the event, I received another email from the aforementioned Facilities Operations assistant, stating that they could not set up the chairs at 11:00 a.m., that there was a class in that studio from 8:30-11:15. I looked at the schedule. The person teaching in the studio was the same faculty who told me to have the chairs/etc. delivered at 11:00 a.m., so I could only assume that he was fine with them coming into the studio at that time. He'd probably cut the class short prior to the speaker’s arrival. I picked up the phone to call her directly, but she didn’t pick up. I hung up and went across the way to get a cup of water. When I came back, I had two voicemails waiting for me.
The first message was from the Facilities Operations assistant, explaining that the new woman they hired went over to the studio (bear in mind, this call was made BEFORE 11:00 a.m., so now I’m really confused, wondering why anyone had gone over to the studio twenty minutes before I requested) and was told by the instructor that she needed to come back at 11:15. I’m like, HE’S the one who requested that the chairs/etc. be brought OVER at 11:00! With that, the new hire chimes in, in the background, and tells the Facilities Operations assistant, “No, no, he told me to come back at 11:00.” So I’m thinking, does anyone know what the hell is going on? Seriously? I said, great. Have her deliver them at 11:00, and hung up.
The second message was from the pizza place. “Yeah, I’m just calling about your order… there’s no location listed on it, but I think you’ve ordered in the past for the Academic Center, so, I'm gonna assume you want this to go to the second floor? If you want to call us back at…” I immediately dialed them up and informed them that I had given an extremely detailed account of where the pizzas and drinks had to go yesterday, even provided two different names of the studio-- NOT the Academic Center, which is a whole different building further up the road. The guy told me that their driver didn’t know where the studio was located—that their FRIDAY driver was familiar with the location, but (God forbid, this was THURSDAY, after all)… Not to worry, that all of their drivers were pretty familiar with campus, and with my directions, it shouldn’t be a problem.
I walked down to the studio with my bag of paper cups, napkins and plates at 11:00 a.m., and the faculty in there wasn’t the faculty I had been originally speaking with—it was a different one. He got up and took the class into the Fine Arts Faculty office across the courtyard, and a couple of other Fine Arts students walked in, clearly a half-hour early for the guest speaker. One of them mumbled, “Where’s the food..?”
That’s when I noticed that there were chairs already set out in a horseshoe pattern. Some were folding chairs, but the rest were these beat-up, paint-spattered classroom chairs. So I started counting them—and there were at least fifty. That's when a Facilities cart pulled up, and a guy started unloading a stack of chairs. Set next to another stack of chairs. I apologized to him profusely, telling him and the new lady that as it turns out, we really didn’t need all these chairs, but since they already had one stack out, they could place them inside, and take the rest back. They set up the two tables, and were soon on their way. I called one of my coworkers back at our office (the one who used to assist Fine Arts) because I was not feeling that confident about the pizzas showing up.
About sixty seconds later, I saw Melanie, one of IT’s a/v people, ride up on her golf cart. Then I saw her walk into the studio. I’m thinking, wait a minute, I thought they didn’t NEED a/v assistance… I just let it go.
My coworker back at my office called the pizza place and got the driver’s cell #, talked to him briefly, then called me back and said he knew where he was going, that he was in a red car, and not to worry. Just stand outside the studio (which faces the road) and watch for him. In the 99% humidity. My hair was beginning to stick to the back of my neck, and my face felt damp. Just gross. It had been threatening rain all morning, and here I was, with no umbrella.
At this time, I saw Melanie come back out of the studio and head to her golf cart. I said “So, it turns out they needed a/v assistance after all?” She kind of smirked and said, “Sorta… we got it figured out,” in a very cryptic tone, and drove away.
The pizzas/drinks showed up close to 11:15. I started setting out the pizzas and Madison, one of the Fine Arts students (who happens to be a student worker of ours with whom I get along well), stood up with a friend and helped put everything out on the tables. Meanwhile the rest of the students converged on the pizzas like zombie locusts. The first kid lifted a box lid and started laughing. I overheard him and another guy make a comment about how one of the pieces looked like it had a bite already taken out of it (I would hazard a guess that it probably stuck to the inside of the lid and probably ripped off and made it look like a bite, but I did not look, did not want to know, did not get involved; I was just glad he didn't start bitching that there was a giant BUG squashed into the cheese. I think I would have just hightailed it out of there at that point).
I gathered up my bag and said goodbye to Madison, thanking her for her help, and as I was walking out, I saw the faculty who had me arrange this heading toward the studio. I noticed that he looked a little frazzled. I told him everything was set up and good to go, to which he said, “I haven’t seen Anne-Marie [guest speaker] yet. Is she in there?” I just looked over my shoulder and said “Nope, I haven’t seen her…” And went on my merry way. All out of fucks to give, as the kids like to say these days.
About four hours later, I saw the Fine Arts department head and asked if everything went all right, dreading the response. He said everything was fantastic and went off without a hitch. Go figure.
I get copied on an email the day of the Fine Arts Pizza and Chair Debacle, from my other
department head to his Advertising and Graphic Design faculty, with the subject line “NEXT THURSDAY faculty
student mixer – NOT TODAY,” the body of the message stating that the faculty/student mixer will be
postponed to next Thursday, blah blah blah. I’m like, WHAT faculty/student
mixer? And if it HAD been today, they’d be shit out of luck, because no tables, drinks or pizzas had been ordered, etc. So I sent him a short note
back, asking “Pizza? Drinks? Location? Approximate #? Thanks…” That was at 8:30 in the morning. After a couple of emails, office and cell phone calls, I never heard anything back. Until five days later.
This same Department Head has been missing something like eight
receipts, and his purchasing card needed to be reconciled last Friday. Over the
course of four weeks I have gotten receipts from him a few at a time. On Monday, he brought
what I thought was the final two, but alas, it was only one. I told him if he didn’t
find the missing one, he’d have to fill out a missing receipt form because it was a purchase
over $20, and that's just the policy of the business office (I'm always the Messenger, the Bearer of Bad Tidings and the Harbinger of Death, it seems. It's just part of my job description). Two days went by, so I sent him the form and asked him to please complete
and return it ASAP before the end of the week, since purchasing card reconciliations and reports were due to the business office that day. Never heard a word back, and had to sic my pal in the business office
on him. Her daughter was a graduate of his program two years ago, so maybe he'd listen to
her. The form magically appeared on my chair the following Monday.
So, a monkey, yeah. Cos I already work at the zoo, or is it the circus...
No comments:
Post a Comment