Friday, June 27, 2008

Payday

     It's Friday, and it's payday at my work.  And that pisses me off.  Mostly because I hate payday.
     I know.  That runs contrary to what one would expect.  You are thinking that I should be enjoying payday, looking forward to it even, because it's on that day that I am rewarded for doing the job that I do.  Plus, on payday you have money.  No I don't.  Let's no sugar coat this thing.  Pay the car payment, cable bill, monthly subscription to the Muffin of the Month Club and all my cash is gone.  It's all spoken for before I even earn it.  And I haven't even gotten to my credit card payment, rent, bookie, my dues for membership in the Dorothy Shaw Bell Choir, or the myriad of prescription drugs that I have to take to silence the voices in my head, or at least to get them to stop speaking German.  So anyway, I am broke.  And I know that.  But on payday it stares me directly in the face.  The other 13 days of the pay period I can just sort of ignore and avoid it.  Not so much on payday my friends.
     Another reason that I hate payday is that I am the person responsible for handing out the paychecks.  See, my place of employment is stuck somewhere in, oh say October, 1896, so direct deposit hasn't been invented yet for us.  And we can't mail the paychecks to people because the mail apparently has to travel via messenger boy, carrier pigeon, or dogsled and that takes too long and the geniuses up in payroll, with their abacus' and hand crank adding machines with those little see-through green visors on their heads; I don't think that they could ever even remotely have their act together enough to get the paychecks into the mail on time.  So I am stuck handing out 177 paychecks every other Friday. 
     There are two things that I hate about handing out paychecks.  The first is the people.  Now don't take that the wrong way.  Some of my best and closest friends are also my co-workers.  Of course I don't hate them.  And I really don't have anything personal against most of my other co-workers.  But half of them I don't know, so I have to ask for ID or I have to ask what their name is and then I feel like a dick because the bulk of them know me in some way, shape, or form.  So now I have to stand there and fumble my way through the checks until I find theirs, which is deceptively difficult because I work with numbers all day long and now they want me to do letters and it rarely ends well.  So anyway, while all this is happening I am having to make small talk and funnies while feeling embarrassed because I didn't know that Susie Chotchbag's last name was Chotchbag.  Great.
     Then there are the people who come sliding up to the counter who probably don't deserve a paycheck.  Usually they earn considerably more than I do yet accomplish considerably less.  they have no idea what is going on at any given moment and generally don't care to give me the day of the week, let alone the time of day.  Yet they are sweet as molasses (and about as charming) on payday Friday.  Which I prefer to the people who are grouchy, demanding, or condescending.  Especially those who do it in written form.  I get a note: "Billy Toolmotron will be picking up my paycheck on 6/27/08."  Not with that kind of attitude they won't.  Seriously, you should be nice to the person who controls your paycheck.  Maybe put it politely.  "Please allow Billy Toolmotron to pick up my paycheck on 6/27/2008.  Thank you."  How hard was that?  You catch more flies with sugar than with vinegar.  Don't chastise me, argue with me, yell at me, be impatient with me.  Don't question what I am doing.  Don't give me dirty looks when I ask you questions.  That's not how this f*&@$%g works.  If you aren't nice or polite or at least civil then you don't get paid.  End of story.  You don't bite the hand that feeds you.  That is just retarded.
     The second thing that I hate about payday is The Argument.  It baffles my mind.  It happens every time, and it really gets on my nerves.  It is a pet peeve of epic proportions for me.  Those who work the midnight shift are allowed to pick up their paycheck as they leave for the day; the rest of the world can get theirs starting at 9 am.  That's the rule.  I didn't make the rule, I just have to live by it.  Or at least near it.  Now sometimes we bend the rule a little bit and start handing checks out at 8:42, maybe 8:30 if you bat your eyelashes at me, that's fine.  And there is a rush when we start disbursing the checks.  That is also fine.  I understand that.  But here is the maddening part.  The entire opening rush of people, or at least 90% of it, is made up of day shift people.   WHAT THE F'S WITH THAT?  You started at 8 am.  You are stuck there until 4 pm.  You can't leave to go to the bank.  I sure as hell am not going to cash your check for you.  YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING WITH YOUR CHECK!  IT'S USELESS!  So why do you need it so desperately at 9 am?  What you have in your hand is a useless piece of paper that has no value until 4 pm, or more like 4:05 because the nearest bank is like 5 miles away.  So enjoy your colorful piece of paper.  If you want, I can give you a lime green florescent Post-It Note.  That will at least be useful to you because you can write notes on it.  Maybe a reminder to cash your paycheck, I don't know.  Seriously though, you have ALL DAY to come by and pick up your check; so slide by sometime when I am not busy and get it.  Don't stand in line at 9 on the nose with the rest of the proletariat and muck things up.  Use your head for Christ's sake.
     So the long and short of it all is that I don't like payday, even though I should.  It's really just a big pain in my behind.  I mean, giving myself my check is cool, but generally handing them out to everyone else is much less so.  But hey, at least I get paid to do it, right?

4 comments:

KingBobb said...

I live in a world where direct deposit is available and, in fact, encouraged by the person up in payroll. However, I enjoy having the distinct notoriety in being the only employee within the two companies that she does payroll for that she has to cut a check. To balance it out though, I've told her on multiple occasions that I don't care when I get it, so long as I get it sometime. Be that when she gets around to mailing it, or whenever she happens to mosey on into the shop and give it to me.

SandRiverGuy said...

man i wish i was the only person who didnt get direct deposit. just to be the one who throws a fucking curve ball all the time. thats awesome i give you props for that.

KingBobb said...

*bows*

I'd like to thank all my fans that got me here, (that's you, Dr. Riverguy), Rat Dog for pissing me off, beer - ever trustworthy and always there for you, and every person in Liechtenstein just because I like to say Liechtenstein. I'M GOING TO DISNEY WORLD!!!!!

Roxy said...

Amen, Big Guy!