Being a supervisor of a data entry team allows me to meet people from all different walks of life. As often as I struggle with the demands put on me, in many ways I consider this job a blessing of sorts. It has little to do with pulling in a decent income, or having some kind of authority over other people; my joy comes from the types of people I meet and the experiences they share with me. On any given day, any one person can get on my nerves, but for the most part, I really like everyone for the individuals they are. I think what brings us together the most is laughter. It helps us get through the deadlines and get through the day. We are not a normal data entry team; we often have to put in 10 hour days and work 6 days a week to meet our strict deadlines. The two supervisors are salary, and the team seldom sees bonuses or incentives. In short, it’s not the kind of job where money drives you. Laughter is the only payoff we really get. Because of what we do, and the number of temps that walk through the door, laughter is in abundance – especially this time of year. This is essentially the holiday season for our industry. It is the time you bring in the temporary help and hope to God that you make it through in one piece. You also pray to Saint Staffagency every morning:
Dear Saint Staffagency,
This morning I speak,
Please don’t bring me some weird stoner freak,
Just bring me someone who shows up on time,
Who I won’t catch viewing porno on-line.
The prayer evidently only works on 1 in 4 temps, athough I’m happy to say that we are averaging okay this month. I only had one incident occur this Friday, which is why I am blogging today. If you have ever had a revolving door of temps, I think you will feel me on this one.
A couple of weeks ago, we brought in a few temps, one of them we will name Rosarita. Rosarita was a little odd to me, but she seemed to do a very thorough job of what was asked of her. There were some errors in her work, but we had some challenges across the board with the new crop of temps, so I felt it was probably more our training and less their ability. Rosarita brought in two large bags with her every day. One was a large purse, the other a backpack stuffed to its limits. We didn’t know what was in there, we didn’t ask. She did her job, and that was all that really mattered to me.
Upon arriving at work on Friday, a few of the full-time folk looked at me and made the universal sign for cuckoo
while pointing at Rosarita’s desk. I put my bags down and went up to one of my employees. She quietly told me of a new development. Evidently, Friday was Rosarita’s 30th birthday, and she wanted to be acknowledged. She printed off a sign on our printer and put it up at her cube. It read:
Today is my 30th Birthday. Happy Birthday, Rosie!
According to the employee, no one immediately acknowledged the note, and over the next hour, it became severely highlighted. It slightly creeped out the staff, so people felt uncomfortable wishing her a happy birthday. I figured at some point in the day, I’d casually make my way over to her desk and wish her a happy birthday. I’m not all that big on the birthday thing, especially when you are an adult, so I don’t see it as a priority.
An hour or so later, Andi, another employee comes up to me and another girl. She shows me our sign-off
sheets for certain tasks. Rosie scribbled, today is my 30th birthday!
Now, we begin to get a little disturbed. She does not know what the company does with these task sheets, so it is two marks against her for being unprofessional – the first being printing a personal document at a company you are temping for.
Shortly thereafter, I get up to pull something off the printer and see another document printed in large letters:
TODAY IS MY 30TH BIRTHDAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROSIE! JUST SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
There is something about the Just say happy birthday
that strikes a chord with me. I think of this old horror movie called Happy Birthday to Me
where the blind chick from Little House on the Prairie plays a psycho killer who stabs people to a bloody pulp on her birthday. I start wondering if there is an or else
to the last sentence; Just say happy birthday – or I am going to cry.
Or I am going to smash your head through my monitor.
Or I am going to slice your skin off an wear it as a suit.
Despite that there is nothing in the employee manual that says a skin suit is against dress code, it was at that point that I decide to discuss the matter with my manager, who happened to be out to lunch. I put Rosarita’s note on his chair with a little note from my self:
We need to talk. She is creeping people out. PS I am going out to buy her birthday cupcakes because I don’t want to be cut up into little pieces.
A few people in the department interrogated me as to why I would buy her cupcakes. I explained that clearly, she is hung up on the birthday thing, which suggests that no one else is really recognizing her birthday. As crazy as the event seemed, I honestly would feel terrible if she went home in tears because no one would say happy birthday
to her, which is really just a simple thing to do. I got a few eye rolls, but along with the eyerolls a couple of people thought it was a nice gesture. And of course, everyone put in a cupcake order request, because data entry is all about the sugar and caffeine.
Fortunately, I ran into my manager on the way out, and told him the story. He said that she was creeping him out the other day, going on and on about her birthday. We agreed that it would be her last day, and it would be hard to cupcake her and then fire her. I told him that we should just say happy birthday and get it over with.
I went back and saw Andi again. Andi has a good sense of humor, and I get a feeling of compassion from her, so I asked her to go to Rosarita’s desk with me to wish her happy birthday on behalf of the department. We both go up to her desk, and Andi not-so-casually acts like she is seeing the highlighted note for the first time. Oh, what’s this?
She picks up the note. Are you Rosie? Is that what you go by?
Rosie acts disinterested. Yeah…
Is it your birthday?
Yeah…
Happy birthday! How fun!
I chime in a happy birthday
as well. Andi makes small talk with her about birthday plans, and I talk about turning 30, which was an event that happened a year ago for myself. The whole conversation was awkward, and Rosarita treated it as if she didn’t just write 500 notes to everyone reminding them of the fact. We went our separate ways and went back to work. I sensed that the employee who originally told me about the situation was a little upset that we didn’t send her home right away. You see, I see it as the person is working, we aren’t going to get anyone else in there for that day, so they might as well finish out the day. We’re busy, I need all the help I can get, even if it’s from a skin-suit-wearing psychopath. I decided to respond to the employees irritation by hiding little happy birthday to me
notes in inconspicuous spots around her desk. I have a pretty good relationship with this employee, so I figured this would crack a smile. After finding the 6th note, she did seem to let out a good chuckle, so all appeared to go well.
Not long after, I went over to the printer to change the paper and saw a sole printed piece of paper on the tray. I looked at it for a moment before touching it, feeling like Heather Donohue in Blair Witch Project,
staring at her friend’s bloody tied-up flannel. If I lifted the paper, would I find Josh’s molars? I gulped and turned the paper over:
TODAY IS MY 30TH BIRTHDAY HAPPY BIRHTDAY ROSIE JUST SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROSIE AKA ROSARITA #3
Wow. Especially, that #3 is the cube number she sat at. Very specific. I gave it to my manager to add to his collection, telling him we need to scrapbook our crappy temps. Just for fun, ya know?
With the exception of a final incident where Andi claims Rosie was singing to herself at her desk, that was the final outburst of her final day at the office. After she left, I told Andi and the other supervisor that I was surprised at what Rosie did. They were surprised that I was surprised. They commented on her overstuffed giant bags. Andi said in a low-key voice, I bet her mother is in there.
I laughed and imitated her pulling her mothers’ head out of her backpack, this is what happened to the last person who forgot my birthday…
So, this is just a glimpse into my world of temps. We are getting a new one on Monday, so I will keep you informed if Saint Staffagency can work a miracle.