The Car-Sized Shit Fan

I have no idea what that means, nor do I want to know.

If you were to picture the Telescreen call-center, I’m sure you can imagine it’s as big a piece of shit as the company itself. Over the years, I’ve noticed a few things in particular that continue week after week. At this point, I can’t say I’m not surprised.

The janitors (or masters of the custodial arts) have a little system for cleaning shit up. If anything spills, leaks, etc, they just put a wet floor sign up and fucking leave it. Every damn time. Shit, I want their fucking jobs.

The cafeteria area looks pretty nasty, but when you get up close, you really get a better idea. Everything is sticky. The floors, the chairs, the tables, the counters. Not sure how or why, but I really don’t want to know.

The bathrooms look like a war zone, I mean, really goddamn disgusting. Hey, I went to college, it doesn’t bother me too much. Then I saw one day how they clean up. I was in there on my break of course (see Who Said You Could Go To the Bathoom? for further insight). Then a janitor came in, grabbed a wad of paper towel, wiped everything into the trashcan, and left. Boom, done, 10 second clean up. If you’re going to cut expenses, you might as well cut out cleaning supplies. I’ve seen that multiple times now, so it’s not a one off, but another one of their cleaning systems.

When shit breaks, shit stays broken. Lights that go out stay out, so we get bitched out by toothless trailer trash in the dark. When a toilet breaks, a plastic bag is put over it for an average of a month. The cooling system fucks up every spring and fall like clockwork. We have broken desks, chairs, and tables. The only things that are promptly fixed are the computers and phones, because God forbid we wouldn’t be taking calls every second of our shifts.

One lovely Saturday morning, I was dragged into the call-center for mandatory weekend overtime, which soon became a normal yet unannounced facet of my schedule. I walked in, and I’ll be damned, it smelled like shit. No, literally, pure shit. I walked over to my cube in the dark dungeon that is Super Department and there was a fan the size of a car blowing air on us. Shit air. I found out that a few hours earlier there was a big sewage leak and maintenance couldn’t look at it until the next week. So the temporary solution was to use a car-sized fan and blow the shitty air right on us. During our whole 9 hour weekend overtime shift. For a week.

It was then when I realized it actually can get worse. Everyday when I’m getting yelled at by brain-dead morons I think, “Wow, I’ve hit rock bottom. It sure can’t get any worse than this.” Then, I come into work to have car-sized shit fan blowing on me all day. Okay, I guess it can get worse after all.