I have two quick stories today. Both occurred on Sunday, but both were at least semi-interesting enough to post. Of course, your mileage may vary.
So Diego the Idiot Detective screwed up a job – shock, right? – and he had to write another report to supplement the first. He drops the paperwork off at my desk, and says, “Yeah, the district is going to enter this job. Here’s the report number. Just put it into my queue, but don’t give it a control number.”
For the record, most every job which passes through my desk needs a control number for tracking. That said, it was my last day, so I accepted his request with the expectation a supervisor would chastise him sometime later this week. Before he walks away, I ask him to confirm the report number. He gives it to me and I write it down.
About ten minutes later, he waddles back to the desk and asks why the job isn’t in his queue. I tell him the district didn’t enter the job yet, and he stops me, saying, “It’s in the system. I was just looking at it.”
Now I’m annoyed, so I ratchet up the sarcasm. “So do you have a different screen than me, because it’s not here.” Diego takes a breath, and says, “That’s because you put in the wrong report number.”
I’m sorry, WHAT???
“I asked you to repeat the number not once, but twice. I even wrote it down as you read it to me. LOOK!” *points to paper*
“Oh,” Diego replies, “That’s a three at the end, not a two.”
“Dude, you f**King told me it was a two. I wrote it the f**k down!”
“Nah, I told you it was a two.”
Thoroughly beaten, I submitted. “Fine Diego, it’s a two… which is one point above your IQ.”