Oh how I hate meetings...mostly...

For the last 7 years or so every job I have ever had has had at the minimum a weekly meeting.
(some places liked to double or triple up as they saw fit)

In my current state of salaried indenturedness we have the classic once weekly meeting.
It's always the same every week.
I usually bring a bag of Gardettos or Skittles and indulge in some classic o.c.d. sorting/eating behavior. It keeps me quiet

Last week I had no food and was therefore forced to pay attention.
The training manager was asking us to list five "SEIBEL skills" or "buying signs" or ...something, I don't know. I wasn't really listening.
He was holding his arm up at an angle halfway between the classic Black Power salute straight up and an angle parallel to the floor. It's kind of the "Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane!..." angle...
Picture it?
OK so his hand is in a fist and we are supposed to list off 5 things...as we are giving our answers he's ticking them off with his fingers until finally he is holding his hand out flat.
Picture it?
He suddenly is giving the classic "Seig Heil!" Salute!
I wait for him to drop it but he doesn't because this classroom of dumb fucks doesn't know the last answer.
(I would have known the answer had I been listening, right?)
So finally I say "ummm Steve?"
he rotates to me "yes?"
now I am getting the "Seig Heil!" Awesome!
I say "yeah.... maybe you shouldn't hold your hand like that?"

AND ...THE ...CROWD...GOES ..WILD!

this is the New Me disrupting a meeting .
It was fun.

Want to hear a story about the way the Old Me would disrupt a meeting?
(you know you do)

OK. This was back when I was selling Hondas.
Every week we had the exact same fucking meeting.
I worked with a raggedy assed band of complete fuck ups.
World class retards.
(I'm going to tell you how bad they were in the next blog. Hang for it, it's good)
Which was great for me.
It was like I got to go back and play Little League again. I was hitting home runs every at bat and pitching no hitters every time I took the mound.
In the land of the blind the one eyed man is king, right?
So every meeting I would listen while my compatriots got their weekly kick in the balls meeting and I would contentedly eat this heavenly sandwich the bakery around the corner made
(fluffy eggs, Emmentaller cheese, smoked ham on a croissant that had been baked that morning...I do miss those 1,200 calorie breakfasts...sigh)
And then once I finished my sandwich and my latte I would look for a creative way to get thrown out of the meeting.

One morning our boss was imploring us to set appointments with customers on days that we knew would be slow. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday?
OK.
Then he said "I know a lot of people want to make their appointments for Saturday, but please, that's our busiest day, so really try to set it during the week, OK?"
Then he looked around a conference room of hungover blank stares.
"Taylor, please tell me, what the fuck did I just say?"
and Taylor, God bless his "I dropped too much acid & smoked too much weed for the last 20 years" brain says with great enthusiasm
"Yes! Set appointments on Saturdays!"
Jeff, our fearless leader , stands stunned.
I step into the breach and say
"I have a question...how is it fucking possible that you still have all your fingers Taylor?"
He says "huh?"
" How is it possible that at some point in your life you have not at least once said ' hey what's this thingy do? Oww! Mah fingers! My beautiful fingers!'"

AND ...THE ...CROWD ...GOES ...WILD!!

Jeff looks at me, "dude, don't you have a deal to write up or something?"
I get up and leave, mission accomplished.

A couple of years later I'm selling Subarus.
These meetings were even more predictable. I actually got myself into a bit of hot water because I did a 5 minute stand up routine in which I acted out everything that would happen in the upcoming meeting and the general manager happened to hear the whole thing.
whoops.
Anyway. I wasn't top dog at this store; I was number 2 or 3...high enough in the food chain to tune out when the nut-kicking began.
One manger in particular...he deserves his own blog some day for his complete mis-use of the English language...but for the sake of semi-brevity, I'll just say he would ask rhetorical questions and then demand an answer.
"do I look like an ass monkey to you?"
" I asked you a question!"
Oh!...umm, no?
He is going off on this trio of green peas (that's "noob" in car-dog language.)
and he says
"do you think this is fucking Candy Land?!"
pause...
"I asked you a question!"
The poor fucking green peas are stunned...clearly this is a question that needs no answer, right?

Once more unto the breach
" No way! Cause' if this was Candy Land it would be way funner!"

AND ....THE ...CROWD....GOES ....WILD!!

exit stage left.