The Angry Drunk

So, my office is doing a canned food drive for a local food bank. Ok, that’s cool, laud­able even. Now, how are we going to imple­ment this? A box in the break room per­haps, where peo­ple can qui­etly donate as their con­science dictates?

Oh. Fuck. No.

No, instead we’ve been divvied up into teams, appar­ently via some ran­dom algo­rithm since I have no idea who these peo­ple are. Then a “team cap­tain” is appointed to send out obnox­ious rah-rah emails. And why, dear read­ers do we need rah-rah emails? Because, of course since this office has a ten to one ratio of Sales douches to nor­mal peo­ple, we’ve gone and made this into a com­pe­ti­tion. Yes indeedy, don’t donate because it helps peo­ple, donate to get a splen­dif­er­ous half day off. Sometimes I think that these retards are inca­pable of tak­ing a crap unless some­one posts the results to a “leader­board” somewhere.

To add idiocy to obnox­ious­ness, the lat­est douchemail from the “cap­tain” encour­ages us to buy cases of bot­tled water. Because, you know, it’s more effi­cient for me to pro­vide water at $.75 a pop than it is for the food bank to use the taps at $.01 a

Continue read­ing I Gave at the Office