DIARY OF A FEDERAL EMPLOYEE

The following journal entry has been "borrowed" from a federal employee, whose name and occupation have been withheld for his or her protection.

Dear Diary,

Today was the same as any other day. I got to work 5 hours early in order to find parking in the Menial Federal Employee Parking Lot.It's mandatory that all employees park in the lot, although there are only 10 spots for 400 employees, but there is ample street parking. Then there is the Supervisor Lot, which has 50 spots for 2 supervisors. Our cars will be immediately towed if we park in the Supervisor Lot. Actually, one of the two supervisors does nothing but make sure that nobody else parks in the Supervisor Lot. He's currently making a six-figure salary.

At the door, I had to show my building card to the security guard. He started telling me about his wife's problems. I told him I need to get to work, and he reminded me of the clause in my contract that stated that I have to listen to every story he wants to tell me.

Six hours later, I went upstairs to my office, and was docked for being late. I tried to explain to my supervisor about the security
guard, and he had me fill out a Lame Excuse For Being Late form. I
filled it out, and he told me I had to mail it to him, even though
he's in the office next door.

I put the form in an envelope and was about to put it in my outbox
for the mailboy to pick up, when I remembered that the mailboy would not be in today, since he had to attend the Federal Mailboy's Workshop, so I went outside to mail it myself. As I re-entered the building, the security guard stopped me and demanded to see my card, which I had accidentally left upstairs. Even though he had known me for years, he made me fill out a Lame Excuse For Thinking You Belong In This Building form, which made me agree that if I try to steal anything, I have to donate all my organs to the government.

As I handed him the form, I noticed a person wearing a ski mask, who was holding a crowbar, enter the building and freely go upstairs. I asked the security guard why he didn't stop the person, and he told me he's on a break.

I went back upstairs, only to find my supervisor waiting for me, who was angry that I haven't done any work today. I tried to tell him why, but he made me fill out a Lame Excuse For Not Doing Any Work Today form. After I threw out the form, I got to work.
I was going to get to a stack of paperwork, when I noticed the many flashing lights on my phone. I answered one of the calls, and found out that person had been on hold since the Carter Administration. He asked me something about a form, and he what ethnicity to check, because of his multi-ethnic background, which was not covered on the form. I told him that if the form doesn't mention his exact situation, then his situation does not exist.

The next call came from someone who misplaced one of their forms,
and needed another one. I then told her to call the Office of People Who Mail Forms To Losers Who Lose Them, and she told me that it closed because of budgetary constraints six years ago.I told her I was not the one who closed it, so she has no business complaining to me about it.

I was about to answer another call, but my supervisor announced that today was Mailperson's Appreciation Day, and it was mandatory that we all attend a three-hour reception honoring mailpeople. We all went to the designated coffee room, where we each had to pay $35 for stale Danish, and to listen to a mail-person who had been flown in (first class, I might add) from Argentina, who discussed the mail delivery in medieval Turkish society. I made the mistake of pointing out that in the Middle Ages, Turkey was known as the Byzantine Empire, and I was fined $50 for harassing the guest speaker.

I answered two more calls before being interrupted by my supervisor, who told me it was mandatory for me to go to a seminar on agricultural accounting, when I pointed out that I was not an accountant, nor did my job even remotely involve any kind of accounting.He told me that he does not care about a minor technicality.

After returning from the seminar, I was about to answer another call, when my supervisor announced that it was quitting time, and like every day, I had to fill out a So, You Think You're Going Home form that made me promise not to try to break in later that night and steal anything, and had me verify that I had not been deported today.

As I left, I picked up my paycheck, and used that money to buy a pack of gum.

HOW TO GET A JOB!

A business man was interviewing applicants for the position of divisional manager for an accounting firm. He devised a simple test to select the most suitable person for the job. He asked each applicant the question, "What is two and two?"

The first interviewee was a journalist. His answer was "Twenty-two."

The second applicant was an engineer. He pulled out a slide rule and
showed the answer to be between 3.999 and 4.001.

The next person was a lawyer. He stated that in the case of Kennyson vs.IRS, two and two was proven to be four.

The last applicant was an accountant. The business man asked him, "How
much is two and two?"

The accountant got up from her chair, went over to the door and closed it then came back and sat down. She leaned across the desk and said in a low voice....

"How much do you want it to be?"

One of our employees is a photographer who considers himself quite
the stud. Everytime we have female models in the studio he struts
& swaggers and puts every move in the book on them, even though he
has been warned repeatly not to.

On one such occasion I was making a background using cotton balls
to fashion clouds on a blue background. The cotton balls had an
adhesive on one side to make them stick. This guy was supposed to
be helping. but when the models arrived he went into his macho act
instead. I finally got fed up and as he went past me I smacked a
cotton ball on to his rear. He thought I was being cute, smacking
his ass, and the damn thing stuck tight to his pants.

The rest of the day he thought he was a hit with the girls, every
time he would approach they would giggle and finally they all
started humming and singing "Here comes Peter Cottontail". Which,
for what ever reason, he took as high praise.

The next day he came in steaming. It seems that he stopped off for
a few drinks before going home, with the bunny tail intact, and was
confused about everyone laughing for apparently no reason at all.
Not until he got home and his wife asked him what was stuck on his
ass, did he discover his little bunny tail.

He never turns his back on me these days, if he finds me walking
behind him, he stops and lets me pass, as he checks to be sure
there is nothing on his ass.

STAFF NOTICE

Due to escalating costs, increased competition, and a keen desire
to stay in business, it is necessary to change our terms of
employment.

It will not be necessary to do something called work in between the
coffee breaks, lunch breaks, tea breaks, smoking breaks, toilet
breaks, etc.

It is the management's intention to call this "the work break."

A man looking for a job."...And remember we are very keen about clenliness. Did you wipe your shoes before entering” asked the manager.

"Oh, yes sir."

Replied the man. The manager narrowed his eyes and said, “We are also very keen about the truth. There is no mat."

A famous art collector is walking through the city when he notices a mangy cat lapping milk from a saucer in the doorway of a store and he does a double take. He recognizes that the saucer is extremely old and very valuable, so he walks casually into the store and offers to buy the cat for two dollars.

The storeowner replies "I'm sorry, but the cat isn't for sale.

The collector says, "Please, I need a hungry cat around the house to catch mice. I'll pay you twenty dollars for that cat."

And the owner says "Sold," and hands over the cat.

The collector continues, "Hey, for the twenty bucks I wonder if you could throw in that old saucer. The cat's used to it and it'll save me from having to get a dish."

And the owner says, "Sorry buddy, but that's my lucky saucer. So far this week I've sold sixty-eight cats."

A man walked into the tax collector's office and sat down and smiled at everyone. "May I help you?" said the clerk in charge.

"No," said the man. "I just wanted to meet the people I have been working for all these years."

The company my brother worked for had a phone system that rerouted
after-hours calls. If any calls came in on a certain line while he was working late, Dave knew it would be a wrong number. It got to the point where as soon as the phone rang, Dave would pick up and say, "Psychic Hotline. I'm sorry, but you've dialed the wrong number."

Steinberg and Fleisher, partners in the garment industry had just suffered through their worst season ever. Ten thousand madras sports coats were hanging on the rack unsold, and bankruptcy was looming closer.

Out of the blue, in walked a buyer from Australia. "I say there," he began, "you boys wouldn't have any madras sports coats, would you? I've been looking for them everywhere."

Steinberg said there MIGHT be a few left, and soon a deal was made whereby the ten thousand jackets would be shipped to Australia at a handsome profit.

"There is one thing though," said the Australian buyer. "For an order this large, I'll have to get a confirmation from my home office. I don't anticipate any problem, and unless I send you a telegram by this Friday, the deal goes through as planned."

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday passed slowly, with the partners nervously waiting to see if the Australianwould change his mind. Friday morning went by without incident. Steinberg and Fleisher were closing up shop when, at ten minutes to five, there was a knock on the door: ..."Telegram!"

The San Diego Police Department were investigating the mysterious
death of a prominent businessman who had jumped from a window of
his 11th-story office.

His voluptuous private secretary could offer no explanation for
the action but said that her boss had been acting peculiarly ever
since she started working for him, a month ago.

"After my very first week on the job," she said, "I received a $20
raise. At the end of the 2nd week he called me into his private
office, gave me a lovely black nightie, five pairs of nylon stockings and said, 'These are for a beautiful efficient secretary."

"At the end of the third week he gave me a fabulous mink stole.

Then, this afternoon, he called me into his private office again,
presented me with this fabulous diamond bracelet and asked me if I could consider making love to him and what it would cost."

"I told him that I would, and because he had been so nice to me, he could have it for $5, although I was charging all the other boys in the office ten.

Conversation at the grocer's

Innkeeper:The room is $15. a night.It's $5. if you make your own bed.

Guest: I'll make my own bed.

"Waiter! This coffee tastes like mud."

Ad as appeared on a West Coast newspaper:

THE TOP 10 WAYS HELL IS BETTER THAN YOUR JOB

1. Your coffee stays hot all day.

2. In Hell, you know who drank your Coke in the fridge - Satan.

3. 30% fewer "Dilbert" cartoons in the break room.

4. In Hell, that devil-may-care attitude of yours comes in handy.

5. You get to spend more time with your spouse now.

6. No more wondering if the boss hates you.

7. Riding to work in a hand basket beats the hell out of public
transportation.

8. Hourly dunks in searing pools of molten lava actually quite
invigorating.

9. Surfing joke sites all day scores major points with the boss!