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Oh, the joys of Saturday
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<blockquote data-quote="RuralRoute" data-source="post: 1658552"><p>As if working Saturdays already isn't bad enough...</p><p></p><p>Had a delivery for a hospital in one of my bigger towns. Since the shipping dude isn't there, I have learned to take them back to ER admissions. So I carry this thing, which is long and awkward, shaped like hockey stick but <em>much much MUCH </em>heavier, thinking I'll just be dropping it off like usual. The little broads at the counter look up and then back down at their phones, most likely on Facebook or Tinder, and say "Oh, that goes to Radiology." (3rd floor) like it's just some small box that floated its way with me. I take it to the right place, by this point wishing I had wheeled it, and of course there is no one at the desk. It's a DSR, so it's not like I can just drop it. I can't wait all day, so I go back to the same little bimbos and tell them it has been left in the correct place, now PLEASE sign here. They look at each other like I just told them I know their racks are fake, and say "Sorry, I can't be held liable for that."</p><p>Really!?</p><p>I'm done. The package is where it is, and a janitor signed for it on my way out with an obviously fake name.</p><p></p><p>Work As Directed.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RuralRoute, post: 1658552"] As if working Saturdays already isn't bad enough... Had a delivery for a hospital in one of my bigger towns. Since the shipping dude isn't there, I have learned to take them back to ER admissions. So I carry this thing, which is long and awkward, shaped like hockey stick but [I]much much MUCH [/I]heavier, thinking I'll just be dropping it off like usual. The little broads at the counter look up and then back down at their phones, most likely on Facebook or Tinder, and say "Oh, that goes to Radiology." (3rd floor) like it's just some small box that floated its way with me. I take it to the right place, by this point wishing I had wheeled it, and of course there is no one at the desk. It's a DSR, so it's not like I can just drop it. I can't wait all day, so I go back to the same little bimbos and tell them it has been left in the correct place, now PLEASE sign here. They look at each other like I just told them I know their racks are fake, and say "Sorry, I can't be held liable for that." Really!? I'm done. The package is where it is, and a janitor signed for it on my way out with an obviously fake name. Work As Directed. [/QUOTE]
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