We appear to be having a major drama around here surrounding two boxes of notebooks. Yes, notebooks.
About a month ago TPTB asked me to create an Answer Book for the new office similar to what we have here. Ideally they wanted three hard copies to send to the new office, along with the electronic version that's accessible on the server. To this end, H put in a request to the Supply Nazis... er... I mean the accounting department for 18 4" binders. The day before the Answer Books were supposed to be sent to the new office, two large, fairly battered boxes appeared in my office. Inside each box were 9 of the most disgusting, ratty, used up binders I have ever seen. Some of these things had some kind of wet gook on them; others actually had mold growing on them, and they all smelled like they'd been buried in a hole below sea level for at least 20 years. Which, upon further review, may well have been the case, as several of them still had their original labels on them, which read things like "Accounting - Business Expenses 1982-1983".
Needless to say, I was displeased (read disgusted and indignant) at having been given 20 year old binders that smell like dead bodies to be sent to our new office. Way to impress the new attorneys. I called J, who was not only displeased, but also unhappy (read frothing at the mouth furious) with the situation, and promised me he'd take care of it.
Shortly thereafter all hell broke loose, and the issue of the notebooks (dubbed "the Biohazards" by F) fell by the wayside. Until last week. Last week J brought the issue up at a management committee meeting (/me pauses to laugh at the idea of the management committee wasting time discussing 4" binders) and *cough*politely*cough requested that the accounting department not be so goddamned cheap and get me some new, unused, not smelly, completely gook-less notebooks. Which they did, with a somewhat facetious attention to my *exact* desires. The lovely brand new notebooks appeared outside my office last week. Unfortunately, the Biohazards remained in my office for almost another week, until on Friday, I pointed them out once again to J, who laughingly dragged them out into the hallway near the reception area doors.
Today, the guy who delivers stuff and runs our errands came looking for them. I told him they were gone, which made him happy, since that meant he didn't have to risk contracting an industrial disease by dragging them upstairs. Unfortunately, he reported their absence to the Supply Nazis, who immediately embarked on the Notebook Inquisition, which went like this:
SN: WHERE are the old notebooks?
Me: I don't know.
SN: Well, WHAT happened to them?
Me: I don't know.
SN: What do you MEAN you don't know?
Me: J dragged them out of my office last week, and that's the last I saw of them.
SN: WHAT did he do with them?
Me: I. Don't. Know.
SN: Well, I'm going to get to the bottom of this.
The fact is, the notebooks were dragged to a spot generally designated for trash, so I suspect they got thrown away. That said, I don't understand what the big deal is. These notebooks were in a storage locker for TWENTY YEARS. Now suddenly it's a major issue that someone threw them away? And Larry wonders why I buy my own supplies.
So there it is. The Great Notebook Drama. Tune in next week to see if J survives the Attack of the Supply Nazis.