Today at work, I had to work with a new person to get a release out the door. He’s not new at all, he’s just been out on sick leave because he had cancer. So I got stuck with people like the dumbass that brought his cell phone into a classified lab that ended up in a report on my permanent record because I signed him in.
So I introduce myself. We’ve met before apparently, before he took leave. I don’t remember this at all but OK, off to a great start.
Anyway. This guy is thorough. Crazy thorough. Opposite of what I’ve seen at this wretched company. Don’t get me wrong — I respect it. Don’t put your name on shit you haven’t verified. Awesome. I’m over here shipping this shit out to be fielded — and just this morning I had to bitwise wipe the damn things to nuke them so they wouldn’t mount so I could manually repartition them and reprogram them. Dear god check it for me. He had a lot of questions and I didn’t have answers to any of them. Because B, who does this shit, quit. So I’m just flailing around making do. I’m trying to get him answers and he just keeps saying that’s not the way B did it. But he couldn’t remember anything about the way B did it except that what I was doing wasn’t it. Joy.
Also, anytime I tried to point something out or highlight something for him, I was constantly reminded that he’s been doing this with B for 4 years. Awesome, but can you just check it off?
So we’ve got 4 people trying to figure out how to show specific items to be checked off and we make it work. TEAM GOALS. I’m only here two more weeks. He’s griping about how we’re always doing this shit so last minute — and hey, I agree — that’s why I quit this shit show. But it’s specifically our fault because Hardware doesn’t do this last minute shit. OK.
So I’m making light conversation, as you do. I mention that it’s a bit warm (I have 6 computer towers under my desk — don’t worry though, he knows because he’s been doing this with B for 4 years and she did too) – anyway, that shit puts out heat. And I’m heat intolerant, as you know. Cancer-guy thinks it’s fine. OK, it was just small talk, whatever.
But then…
“If you think THIS is uncomfortable, let me tell you about uncomfortable.”
Oh god.
He’s a veteran. And he’s been in trench warfare where they didn’t even have toilets or sleeping bags or showers for weeks at a time. And he starts telling me about trench warfare and Eeyore’s wandered over now and they’re discussing war tactics and shit and the misery of being in the military. And weren’t those banned in the IRN treaty — yeah because of cancer guys team! Awesome. And there’s no sleeping or eating and I’m just kinda leaning back in my cubicle surrounded by kids toys and figurines and there’s a rubber ducky (left by B) in between me and this guys face as he tells me how bad people smell after three weeks in a trench without showering. And I’d never survive.
Listen, I’m an engineer. I couldn’t cut it in the military. I’m not athletic, I have flat feet, severe problems with authority, and I despise sweating. I’m a pansy, I get it. I don’t even have a dick so why are we in this dick measuring contest? How did this happen?
And just when it’s finally ending and he’s about to move — Eeyore mentions that he hasn’t seen him in a while — where’s he been? Some kind of medical event? “Medical event? Only THE medical event. Cancer.” God dammit, Eeyore. I’ve never even met the guy and even I know he had cancer. So now, we also wouldn’t survive cancer. It’s a hellish experience and and he had radiation and chemo on his neck and it hurt so much that he couldn’t even swallow water for weeks. He used to love spicy food but now ketchup burns going down.
But at least he did better than Brenda who works/worked a hall over and got diagnosed a month after him and DIED.
This conversation is fun. I’m having fun.
Yay work!