Just shoot me

There are seven employees in my township, four elected, three staff. So, there are seven of us. You know me as the person of no authority. Among the rest of the mix, hired or elected, one is normal, like me, one is aggressive, two are passive aggressive, one does not get involved, and the last is pleasant and affable, also like me.

We all use our personal cell phones in a minor way for township business, except one of us, who does not answer or return calls. Because communication is an important part of that job, one elected official purchased a phone, put some minutes on it, and told the employee to use it. A week or so ago I saw the phone on a desk, mentioned it, and was informed it was out of minutes.

Knowing that would never be disclosed, except by me, I relayed the information to the person who bought the phone, assuming that person knew how to add minutes.

Ass…you know the rest. Oh, baby, a firestorm, directed at the other passive aggressive by the aggressive one. I ran into p-a at movie night at the library last night. I had to sympathize, actually, but after ten minutes of listening to the complaining, I said I’d figure it out today.

Today I spent an hour on the phone. About thirty were devoted to helping me find the serial and phone numbers of the phone (yes, this p-a had left the building). Ten were spent listening to the seller of said minutes reading me the minutes and expiration dates of every phone plan, instead of cutting to the chase and telling me the maximum number of minutes and months he could sell me. When he got to one year I yelled “Stop, I’ll take it!”

Another ten were devoted to confirming every bit of credit card data (J for jug, O for overhead, A for apple, N for never, N for never, E for every; N for never and so on and so on). I smiled and remembered that as little as I earn, he earns less, and probably works twelve hours a day for it. We had the best luck when I said “Listen, it’s J-O-A-N-N-E. Is that what you have? You’re one N short. Let’s do it again.” Peninsula was a real struggle. Apparently his software did not return a city in exchange for a zip code.

So, I returned the one year out phone to the desk of p-a, with a note, as p-a remained out of the building. I used my cell to call the cell of the other p-a, thus leaving no email trail, and impart the knowledge the phone was good for a year. I gathered my stuff and literally was shutting the exterior door behind me when a friendly voice said, “Hey, you. Have a great weekend.” It was the road super, who is pleasant and affable, like me.

And that’s why I take my camera to work and take my time going home.