I am fucking pissed.
Dec. 1st, 2002 08:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leaveoutalltherestNO, wait. I'm beyond pissed, I'm fucking LIVID.
That stupid bitch Richelle, not sure if she was drunk or on something, fucking passed out here at work.
It's Sunday evening, busier than, fuck I don't know, it's never busy on Sunday, but we're pulling in 40-50 calls an hour with is _highly_ unusual, and she is fucking passed out.
I left her there, in her chair. Put her terminal in not ready and left her there. Then laughed when she fell out of the chair.
When she woke up enough to look around, I told her to go in the breakroom. She did.
Then Debbie called in for mids, so besides taking calls, I had to run around trying to help find a fill in for her. Come to find out, Bailey, our manager (who for some reason, keeps giving me my job back when I walk out) is coming in tonight. Then Jess called and I told her what was going on. She rushed up here and got Richelle out, but not without Richelle acting like a fucking idiot. Wanting to know where her jacket was when she didn't even wear one today and all kinds of shit. I hope she drops her stereo (which she brought with 'cause the one up here doesn't play CDs) when she walks up her sidewalk.
If we weren't short of people already, I'd tell Bailey. But we're short of people, and Di's in Mexico so there is no one to train new ops. Fucking bitch Richelle. I don't care if she would lose any chance of getting her kid back. Hell, if she cared so much about getting him back, she'd be doing what she was suppossed to instead of skipping her AA/NA meetings to get drunk and fuck her boyfriend, and then forge the damn signatures on her assignment card.
Hell, now *I* Want to go get drunk, but don't have any money left. Fucking bitch.
Di comes back, I'm quitting and finding another job. I can't deal with this.
That stupid bitch Richelle, not sure if she was drunk or on something, fucking passed out here at work.
It's Sunday evening, busier than, fuck I don't know, it's never busy on Sunday, but we're pulling in 40-50 calls an hour with is _highly_ unusual, and she is fucking passed out.
I left her there, in her chair. Put her terminal in not ready and left her there. Then laughed when she fell out of the chair.
When she woke up enough to look around, I told her to go in the breakroom. She did.
Then Debbie called in for mids, so besides taking calls, I had to run around trying to help find a fill in for her. Come to find out, Bailey, our manager (who for some reason, keeps giving me my job back when I walk out) is coming in tonight. Then Jess called and I told her what was going on. She rushed up here and got Richelle out, but not without Richelle acting like a fucking idiot. Wanting to know where her jacket was when she didn't even wear one today and all kinds of shit. I hope she drops her stereo (which she brought with 'cause the one up here doesn't play CDs) when she walks up her sidewalk.
If we weren't short of people already, I'd tell Bailey. But we're short of people, and Di's in Mexico so there is no one to train new ops. Fucking bitch Richelle. I don't care if she would lose any chance of getting her kid back. Hell, if she cared so much about getting him back, she'd be doing what she was suppossed to instead of skipping her AA/NA meetings to get drunk and fuck her boyfriend, and then forge the damn signatures on her assignment card.
Hell, now *I* Want to go get drunk, but don't have any money left. Fucking bitch.
Di comes back, I'm quitting and finding another job. I can't deal with this.
