The Trash Bin War

kaylarStarred Page By kaylar, 29th Sep 2010 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/1v2sspfm/
Posted in Wikinut>Humour>Funny Stories

What happens when a new and not particularly wise manager throws his weight around

Enter Mr. Turnover

In every business a little incompetence must fall.
Usually in the shape of a new manager.
New managers are like new fences; necessary evils. As long as the fence isn't too problematic the public will deal with it. Once it blocks them from access to places they've normally gone, they find ways around it.

New managers who have some version of ability often slip into the business without much dislocation. Those who couldn't manage a stapler create a lot of problems.

Mr. Turnover was one of those who couldn't operate a stapler.

The Venue

As the elevator doors open one is in an empty space. Ahead is a glass door. As a security feature one needs a swipe card to go through the glass door and enter a narrow corridor. At the end is a nice big rubbish bin.

The Rubbish Bin is at the cross roads of the two divisions of this particular business.

The usual behaviour of the staff is to walk up to the bin, pitch in their drink cups or old lunch boxes or whatever they have in their hand, then turn in the direction of their work space.

Mr. Turnover, unable to get a handle on the business, unable to stamp his name in a change of policy, decided to express his aesthetics.

He ordered the removal of the trash bin and the placing of an insipid 'motivational' sign in a large frame on the wall above where it used to stand.

The first salvo

Jake the geek was talking to Sydney and tossed the empty tin of soda where the trash bin used to be and kept walking. Georgie was talking on his cell phone and pitched the remains of his lunch at the big empty space.

He walked on a few steps, then turned back,
"Hold on..." he said to his cell and the public at large; "Where's the Bin?"

Snotty Serena looked up from her screen where she was playing Farmville; "The Manager moved it."

"Moved it where?" Georgie demands.

"I don't know. Ask him." Snotty Serena snorted.

Georgie was distressed; "I'll call you back," he said closing his phone, looking at the small grouping of trash underneath the Motivational poster.

Decision

As Georgie stood looking at the trash on the floor, figuring out how to pick up the orts of his lunch, Pete passed and pitched an empty drink carton.

"Hey!" Georgie called, "You don't see there's no rubbish bin."

"Sure there is," Pete says.

Georgie met Pete's eyes. In less than a second he realised he had been given the chance to join the revolution.

His choice; pick up his garbage or march into history by leaving it there.

Whether Georgie's decision was based on the deeply held principle that no one has the right to remove the hallowed rubbish bin or on an unwillingness to clean up his own mess, is moot.

"Yeah!" called Georgie striding to his desk.

As the Garbage mounts

By the end of the day there was quite a bit of rubbish beneath the motivational poster and Miss Take, the manager's secretary, came out of her office on her way out; (she liked to leave early).

"What's this?" she shrieked.

No one answered.

"Miss Pickling! Miss Pickling!" She shouted at Snotty Serena, who finally looked up.

"What's this?

"What?"

"This Mess!"

"What mess?" Snotty Serena replied.

"You don't see rubbish all over the floor."

With her face blank Serena replied ; "That's the garbage bin."

The Denseness of Miss Take

There are some people who have two living brain cells; one is in a wheelchair and the other is pushing it.

That was the mental acuity of Miss Take.

She was now going to stand up for the next ten minutes and discuss the rubbish on the floor, apparently unable to comprehend that she would have a better chance flying to the moon on a broomstick then getting one person in the office to acknowledge the rubbish bin was not there, and/or assist her in removing the mess.

Eventually one brain cell pushed the other to the 'shut up' switch, and Miss Take went to find old Mr. Weevil, the custodian.

As Miss Take left the office a cheer went up. Everyone congratulated Snotty Serena,
for no one expected such talent from her.

By the time Mr. Weevil arrived with his dust pan and broom, most people were leaving, and Miss Take, she who considered the working day ran from 9:50 to 3:50, was almost the last to leave the floor.

Day two

As the staff entered at 8:30 each had something to contribute to the space on the floor beneath the poster. Drink boxes, paper, orange peels, everyone seemed to have something to be tossed.

At 9:30 as Mr. Turnover came down the corridor the first thing he saw was the trash beneath his poster. Not the Trash Bin, just trash.

"What is this!!!" he bellowed. No one looked up. (Snotty Serena, knowing she'd be the first one asked had gone into the bathroom at 9:20 and was not expected back until 10:00).

Not knowing the names of the staff he called; "You, hey...you..." and as no one was named You, (although there was a Hugh, but he was at the farthest work station), no one looked up.

Angry now he stormed over to Richard's desk. Richard was the closest to him. "Don't you hear me?" Mr. Turnover said.

Richard began to unfold. He was about 6' 5" give or take a yard, and he needed a little time to get to his feet.

Mr. Turnover, (who was a good 5' 8", give or take an inch) watched this unfolding with some fear, as Richard was also about 300 lbs.

"Are you talking to me?" Richard said in a very low, very flat voice.

The office was dead silent. Everyone had stopped playing Farmville, looking at porn, reading their email and enjoying You Tube.

Mr. Turnover, realising that he can not show fear, said, in his best English, "Yes. I am speaking to you. I inquired about the mess."

"Mess?" drawled Richard, making the esses whistle softly.

"Look over there.."

"Where?" asked Richard in an almost bedroom voice.

"You don't see the trash on the floor."

"Trash." Richard echoed.

"Yes, look, the trash. On the floor."

Richard, towering over Mr. Turnover gazed at the pile of rubbish on the floor.
Then, looking down, way down at Mr. Turnover;

"That's the bin," he informed.

War

Mr. Turnover, having gotten over his belief that Richard would take two slices of bread and use him for lunch meat, became bolder.

"What bin? I moved the Bin!"

"You moved the bin?" Richard said as if this was an exceedingly profound statement. "Now why would you do that?"

Mr. Turnover, boiling in anger, aware that absolutely no work was going on nor had gone on for the past however long he had been fascinated by the rubbish on the floor, shouted;

"Staff Meeting! Now! In the Boardroom!" And stalked off.

Georgie did his impersonation of Mr. Turnover, but Nick's was better, and they all ambled their way to the Boardroom. That was when Miss Take wandered in, and
began exclaiming about the trash heap on the floor.

"Get what's his name to clean this mess up!" Mr. Turnover barked at her from the Boardroom door, as he couldn't understand how it took over five minutes for the staff
to walk the fifty feet to the Boardroom.

When everyone had filed in and found a seat, Mr Turnover began a long and angry diatribe about 'insubordination' and 'testing authority' and other such topics.

Mr. Weevil, having been woken from his slumber by that annoying Miss Take, again, told her he'd take care of it. She stood waiting to see him physically move and he decided that he wouldn't even breath heavy until she left the doorway.

After ninety seconds, aware that she was missing the boardmeeting, she hastened down the hall.

That is when Mr. Weevil got up and put an end to the foolishness.

The Terms of the Treaty

After speaking himself horse, Mr. Turnover dismissed the staff, then sat in his chair, sending Miss Take for a glass of water.

He hoped he'd made his point.
He hoped they would give him the respect he deserved.

Miss Take sent the tea lady in with the water and he savoured it. He had confronted his first challenge and had risen to the occasion.

As he stepped into the corridor he saw---------->

Tags

Bin, Employment Tips, Manager, New-Manager, Office, Policy, Trash, Unworking, Workers

Meet the author

author avatar kaylar
I am passionate about history, culture, current events, science and law

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