The Perils of Political Correctness in the Workplace (1082 hits)
Category: HumorRating: 1.31 on 28 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by JoeyG <joe_green_2006.at.yahoo.co.uk> (View user info) at 2006-08-23 06:10:26 EDT
Equal. Opportunity. Employers.
Damn, I've come to hate those words.
Like any self respecting employer, the company I work for likes to show its caring, sharing spirit, by hiring a quota of ethnic minorities and those of a disabled persuasion.
I've never had a problem with this in the past. The office is predominantly white, but we do have a good mix of other races.
Max, one of the accountants, is originally from Kenya, and is one of the smartest people I know. There's a whole array of Chinese and Japanese people in the tech department, all toiling away to keep my net connection in good working order. And of course, there's the usual bunch of durkas that form the cleaning team.
All of these play an essential part in the business, and I praise them for that.
About 3 months ago, we hired some temps in, to deal with some of the more remedial work that needs to done around the place.
Gill was a good choice, late twenties, pleasant to work with, pleasant to look at.
Ray, was one of the worst mistakes in corporate history.
He was wheelchair bound, slightly obese, late thirties. He had a car accident, after losing control on an icy road and getting up close and personal with a large oak tree. Personally, I think it serves the fucker right for driving so fast in dangerous conditions, but I wasn't going to hold it against him. Yet.
Usually, new arrivals in the office are subjected to some mild mannered horse play, nothing offensive, and it's all taken in good spirit. It's not like some sort of initiation test, just an attempt to welcome them into the group and make them feel like part of the gang.
My first idea was to adorn Ray's nifty electric wheelchair with 'go faster' stripes, but no-one else thought this was a good idea. Everyone was pussy-footing around poor Ray-Ray, like he was a fragile porcelain doll that would crack under any unnecessary pressure.
But underneath his handicapped exterior, there dwelt a cool, calculating, malicious mind. No-one else could see it, but I knew it was there, and I knew he played his disability to his advantage whenever possible.
I was sat at my desk one day, and he rolls on over to me, waving an empty plastic coffee cup.
"Excuse mister, er....", he asked.
"Just call me Joe", I said, without looking up from my keyboard.
"Joe, I was just wondering if you could....er" he waved the empty cup at me like someone shaking a charity box to collect change.
"What's up?"
"Could you get me another coffee?" That was it, no "please", or anything.
"Coffee machine is just down there, help yourself."
"That one's out of order."
"There's another one on the next floor up."
"But the stairs....can't you see I'm in a wheelchair?" Does he think I'm blind? Of course I can fucking see that big grey hunk of metal attached to his ass.
"The elevator works fine last time I checked". He nudged his joystick control forward, and inched closer in towards my desk.
"I was only asking, it'd be a real great help, if you don't mind." Once again, he motioned with the coffee cup.
"Sorry Ray, but I'm kinda busy right now." I was actually typing one of my previous uber posts, but he wasn't to know.
He was trying to play his mind games on me. I could see the crocodile tears begin to well up in the corner of his eyes.
"Well, gee, thanks for nothing. Sorry to have bothered you..." He spun his mobility machine around, and headed off towards the elevator, pretending to sob into his hand. He kept sneaking glances back over his shoulder to see if I was looking. I was looking, but I didn't care. I don't do sympathy very well.
Since then, poor old Ray-Ray has had it in for me. For instance, his P.C prints out to the same printer as mine. He spends his day printing out address changes of clients. Rather than coming and collecting his printouts at regular intervals, he insists on letting them pile up and accumulate, all the live long day.
This in itself doesn't bother me. The only thing I ever print is my work summary at the end of each day (it's never more than 1 page, ever). The reason Ray waits until the end of the day to collect his papers, has nothing to do with his immobility. It's because he waits for me to get up and go to collect my summary.
He timing is perfection, every time. He makes it look so natural when he swivels the chair through 180 degrees just as I get to the printer, resulting in the metal foot-plate colliding straight into my Achilles tendon, which hurts like a bitch.
"Geeeeeeee, fuck, man!" I said, as he hit the bull's eye for the 5th successive time that week. By this time, I had started to develop a callous, but this offered little respite to the searing pain that jolted right up my leg, resounding into a dull ache by the time it reached my groin.
"Oh, Joey, I'm really sorry, I didn't see you there....." Bollocks. Just like you didn't see me every day for the past fucking fortnight you crippled piece of shit.
It was a Monday morning, and I was anticipating another week of ankle assaults, when Gill, the other temp came over to me.
"What's up, you look like you just had a barbed-wire enema?" She has such a way with words.
"Old Steely fucking Dan in the corner over there, he's really starting to piss me off."
He had taken to borrowing my stapler whenever I was away from my desk, and never bringing it back. Not that I use the stapler much, but it's MY FUCKING STAPLER, OK?
The week before, he came over to me and asked my opinion on how he should be writing the names of counties on the addresses - should he use "Hampshire", or can he abbreviate to "Hants". I told him I really didn't care about addresses and as long as my mail turns up on my doorstep, I don't give a shit how it's written.
He insisted on inching closer, and knocked my cup of water all over the stack of papers on my desk. I say stack, but it was just a bog standard project update, covering up the latest rules for Friday night's game of Pub Golf.
All in all, I was getting fed up of Ray-Ray, and I wasn't going to let him hide behind his injuries anymore. As the day ended, I printed out my summary, went to the printer, and bang - right on cue, I get the corner of the footplate straight into my ankle.
"Yo, Ironside - will you get some learner plates for that thing, for chrissakes".
From the look on his face, you would have thought I had just said "Listen here you crippled, fat, mother fucker, last night I pissed on your Mum's grave, then dug her up, opened the coffin and skull fucked that whore".
The rage started to contort his facial features. The redness began at his neck, and crept upwards consuming his entire head. His fat jowls began vibrating, and I thought he was about to burst. I envisaged him exploding, hitting the ceiling with steam coming out of his ears like Roger Rabbit drinking the shot of whiskey.
"How dare you speak to me like that, just because I'm in a wheelchair! I don't need to be subjected to your pig headed ignorance, and your prejudices against invalids! You are just a....... a ........ a narrow minded fool. The work agency shall hear of this."
He rolled off and proceeded to tell every non white male in the building just what a racist, sexist, ageist pig I was. Since then, the cleaners have developed a habit of not emptying my bin, and moving all my stuff around after hours. The lady who restocks the coffee machine has conveniently begun to forget to top up the black coffee with sugar cups, that she knows I always have.
So be careful what you say to those less fortunate than yourselves. When you see an ugly, fat, black, lesbian with a limping gait, she is really a "facially deprived, horizontally challenged person with ethnic background and of non conformist sexual orientation".
Fuck that shit. I say what I say, and that's all that I say. Peace out to all you niggers, faggots, geriatric bastards and bitches. Until next time....
User Reviews
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-10-30 08:25:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
WTF? I forgot to rate this!
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2006-09-15 10:41:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is the proper way to bitch about office work.
Submitted by Luckystar (user info) at 2006-08-29 19:32:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
i once got fired from a health food store for referring to a brazil nut as a nigger-toe... in front of a black chick
Submitted by Defect (user info) at 2006-08-23 21:44:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I guess if you want to get back at him, you gotta do what he's doing. Act like a non-racist sexist I don't hate you cause you take it up the A white collar workman and apoligize. Then do shit to him like he does you. Hide behind, "Whoops...sorry about the staplegun to the face, are you okay?" Type shit.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-23 17:11:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
shove a stick in his spokes
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2006-08-23 14:19:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Obviously you need to start putting all of his stuff up high where he can't reach it.
Submitted by ilikesteak (user info) at 2006-08-23 14:09:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Pop a tire. When he goes to hit your foot, "accidentally" drop a box of tacks. I'll bet he can walk too. He's just in that chair because he's too lazy to walk and wants the attention.
Submitted by BobLobla (user info) at 2006-08-23 12:24:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Great post
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-08-23 09:30:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The drinks on our list for this friday night include:
Pint of the cheapest ale the pub has on offer - par 3
Double Vodka - Par 1
Bottle of bud - Par 2
J.D and coke - par 2
Pint of Cider - Par 4
You get the picture. To make it more interesting, you can only take toilet breaks at every other hole. If you have to go at a non designated hole, then you drop a shot.
============
I play this slightly differently.... A pint in each pub but the amount of mouthfulls/gulps taken to drink the pint equate to the amount of shots.
Nominate one person to assign 'par' to each pub as you enter.
Therefore as you enter a pub Lead man shouts 'Par 3'...you all order a pint. If you down it in 1 then you get an Eagle 2 under par, if you down it in two mouthfuls you get a birdie 1 under and etc and so on.
Submitted by BranDo (user info) at 2006-08-23 09:27:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Great stuff.
Submitted by livEvil (user info) at 2006-08-23 08:53:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
YOU GOT OWNED BY A CRIPPLE
Submitted by Replen (user info) at 2006-08-23 08:29:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
forgot the +2
Submitted by Replen (user info) at 2006-08-23 08:28:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-08-23 07:27:01 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Replen (user info) at 2006-08-23 07:08:27 (#)
Ranking: 1
Political Correctness is important.
Once during a very early team meeting after a very late night out, one of the talentless graduate members of our team was performing her usual act of shamelessly ingratiating herself to the boss. I, slumped in my chair with a terminal hangover, somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, and really not in the mood to put up with another hour of her vomit inducing fawning, blurted out "For fucks sake, why don't you just go over there suck his cock as well".
Cue: A room full of shocked expressions, 1 written warning and no pay-rise that year.
============
Was there EVER a time when it was correct to say this?
--------------------
Definitely not. And a small part of me regrets it and the damage it did to my career. But that was dwarfed by the ego-inflating notoriety and celebrity status it gave me in the after-work drinking club. As this fades, I'm sure my regret will grow. But hey, it was fucking funny.
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2006-08-23 08:13:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 (user info) at 2006-08-23 07:50:54 (#)
Ranking: 2
Please explain this "Pub Golf" you speak of? Does it involve getting balls into pint glasses?
------------------------------------
There are 9 major pubs in our high street. Each pub is a counted as a hole, so we go up the street and back down it to play the full 18.
An envelope is filled with the names of 18 different drinks, so at each pub, a drink is selected by random choice from the envelope. Each drink is given a par, e.g a pint of stella, par 4. This is how many swigs you have to drink it in. If you down it in 4 swigs, you're level par, 3 would be a birdie and so on.
You get another person to keep track of your score to avoid cheating.
The drinks on our list for this friday night include:
Pint of the cheapest ale the pub has on offer - par 3
Double Vodka - Par 1
Bottle of bud - Par 2
J.D and coke - par 2
Pint of Cider - Par 4
You get the picture. To make it more interesting, you can only take toilet breaks at every other hole. If you have to go at a non designated hole, then you drop a shot.
Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 (user info) at 2006-08-23 07:50:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Please explain this "Pub Golf" you speak of? Does it involve getting balls into pint glasses?
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-08-23 07:27:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Replen (user info) at 2006-08-23 07:08:27 (#)
Ranking: 1
Political Correctness is important.
Once during a very early team meeting after a very late night out, one of the talentless graduate members of our team was performing her usual act of shamelessly ingratiating herself to the boss. I, slumped in my chair with a terminal hangover, somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, and really not in the mood to put up with another hour of her vomit inducing fawning, blurted out "For fucks sake, why don't you just go over there suck his cock as well".
Cue: A room full of shocked expressions, 1 written warning and no pay-rise that year.
============
Was there EVER a time when it was correct to say this?
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-08-23 07:10:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
You can't be a dickhead in the workplace. And for God's sake don't hug anyone.
I used to go to a school with a hugging culture. It was so awful, even when the girls did it. They've gone on to knifing each other now though so it's alright.
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2006-08-23 07:08:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Last Sunday my wife and I were riding on the bicycle trail. We came up behind three other 'cyclists' - one on a bicycle and two in arm-powered, chain-driven, multigeared three-wheeled cyclechairs (We're engineers; we notice the design of things). All three side by side, taking up all but three feet or so of the paved trail. They were moving well slower than we, and there were several rollerbladers behind them as well. As we approached, I hollered out the obligatory "On your left!" and we moved left to pass. They spread out, taking the entire path. We passed in the dirt (mountain bikes on a paved tral do have some purpose). We had passed before I thought up a stinging remark about Sandmen traveling in a line to hide their numbers or improving their aerodynamics by drafting. We continued on to the end of the trail and turned around.
On the way back, there they were again. Stopped this time. Appears that one of the cyclechairs had a flat tire. Poor ol' Flippy was sitting on the ground contending with the fire ants while his bud on the bicycle repaired the tube for him. "Karma", sez I.
Submitted by Replen (user info) at 2006-08-23 07:08:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Political Correctness is important.
Once during a very early team meeting after a very late night out, one of the talentless graduate members of our team was performing her usual act of shamelessly ingratiating herself to the boss. I, slumped in my chair with a terminal hangover, somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, and really not in the mood to put up with another hour of her vomit inducing fawning, blurted out "For fucks sake, why don't you just go over there suck his cock as well".
Cue: A room full of shocked expressions, 1 written warning and no pay-rise that year.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-08-23 07:06:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Don't let Nath influence you Joey. His solution to the problem would be to drive down the street Ray lives with his farmer buddies clinking empty beer bottles together and singing "Cripple boy.... Come out to plaaaaayy-yaaaaayyy!"
And we all know how that ends.
I think you just need to sit down with Ray and have a mature, grown up chat with him about your issues. I'm sure that once you get it all out in the open you'll be the best of friends.
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2006-08-23 06:45:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No you silly bugger, don't go flying off the handle and trying to tackle the problem on your own. YOu clearly lack the subtlty or the knowledge of your employers personnel policies to do anything but land yourself in more trouble.
Count to ten, take a deep breath and relax.
Question one: Is Ray's work sub-standard?
Question two: Has Ray insulted you, threatened you or done anything to directly offend you?
----------------------------------------------
Question 1: Yes, his work is shit. His job insists entirely of taking a list of clients who have changed addresses, update them on our computer system, and print off the new one and file it. Simple. Yet he cant even get that right, he makes spelling mistakes, starts lines of addresses without capital letters and mis-files most of his work.
Question 2: Yes, he called me ignorant and pig headed. He threatened to tell his agency about my remarks, but I've heard from a reliablke source he is having second thoughts on this, as the quality of his work may come to light, and he wont have a job. Yes, this was after I made my remark, but prior to this, he was deliberately flaunting his disability in order to cover up for being a lazy shit, which makes me mad when you think of the people who really are that disabled they cant get themselves a drink when they want.
I stand by my remarks. Once again, fuck him. Fuck him in his fat crippled ass.
Submitted by w_t_a_y_s_t_r_m (user info) at 2006-08-23 06:44:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Guess who works in HR on Uber...
Stop showing over bertward
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-08-23 06:36:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No you silly bugger, don't go flying off the handle and trying to tackle the problem on your own. YOu clearly lack the subtlty or the knowledge of your employers personnel policies to do anything but land yourself in more trouble.
Count to ten, take a deep breath and relax.
Question one: Is Ray's work sub-standard?
Question two: Has Ray insulted you, threatened you or done anything to directly offend you?
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2006-08-23 06:30:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
You make a fair point, but the reason I dont like him is because he plays on his disability and uses it to get anything he wants. If he pissed me off just because of things he had said, then I wouldn't have used that term.
So fuck him. I'll let you know how the situation pans out.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-08-23 06:28:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
SO meditate on that you Irish, jew, nigger, motherfukcer.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-08-23 06:26:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
To be honest though you shouldn't go around slinging names at people you don't like because it's childish. A real man would resolve the problem in mature and diplomatic manner.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-08-23 06:24:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
... Now here's the thing.
You hate him as a person, right? So if you have a problem with him why did you pass a disabled comment? Couldn't you have just called him a careless moron?
You chose not to, you chose to make comment which highlighted his disability. If he was black and you'd called him a paki for bumping into you in the corridor you'd come off as a prejudiced bastard. The same is true in this instance.
Equal employment is about seeing past people's personal attributes and seeing merely they're skills and work weaknesess. It's about calling people motherfuckers and not calling them cripples.
Do you see your error? Your company will now be obligated to discipline you or risk a tribunal claim from Ray because of your slander.
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-08-23 06:24:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I like.