Close to a verbatim conversation I just had. I’m the second person to speak.
“I’m looking for batch 2471, and it’s not in balancing.”
“What’s wrong with batch 2471?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why do you need to click it?”
“I have to look at it to see what was wrong with it.”
“Okay. Did you check amount entry? There were batches in there to do.”
“But it’s not in balancing.”
“Items go to amount entry before they go to balancing.”
“Oh, so I should check in browser?”
“No, you should check in amount entry. Click on amount entry.”
“But I want to go to browser.”
“You don’t need to go to browser. Click on amount entry.”
“Where?”
“On the menu. No, click amount entry. Amount entry.”
“Oh, you mean amount entry!”
“Yes, click on that.”
“Okay.”
“See, there it is. Batch 2471. Just do that one and it’ll put it into balancing for you.”
“So I look for my sequence number?”
“No, you have to do amount entry on it to get it into balancing.”
“But I need to look at this sequence number.”
“No, you have to do amount entry first. Put in the amount.”
“But I don’t know the amount.”
“It’s right there in front of you on the screen! Just type it in.”
“Oh, you mean for that item!”
“Yes! You’re doing amount entry now.”
“Okay.”
The batch gets amount keyed….
I say: “Good, it’s done so now it’ll be in balancing.”
“So I go to browser?”
“No! You go to balancing now.”
“Oh, balancing! Okay. Now I need to fix this sequence number.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“I don’t know. I have to look at it.”
Sadly, this went on for another couple of minutes. I kept looking at my coworker who was in another cubical snickering over the whole thing and all I could do is shrug. I mean, seriously, how do you fix stupid?
In any case, reminds me of a certain passage in Public Transit, which was written before we hired this person; ergo, I am a prophet. The passage:
“Speaking of that, did you get the memo that we’re changing box A and box C to box D now?”
“What?”
“You’ll need to go through the database and correct those,” Patterson said, motioning to the pile of 2053 forms Steve had already completed.
“But didn’t we just change from box B to box A or C just last month?”
“Yes, but now we’ve got box D. So change box A and C to box D.”
“What about box B?”
Patterson scratched his chin. “Those still get changed to box A or C, depending.”
“Depending on what?”
“Which one they’re supposed to be.”
Then later….
“Hey, did you finish doing all those box A or C to box D conversions that I asked you to do?”
“Yes, just before lunch.”
“Great! Listen, we’re getting rid of box D now. I need you to change them all back to box B.”
Steve’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Yeah, it was a typographical error. That Melinda! She sure can make good coffee, but she can’t type to save her life.”
Steve didn’t bother to point out that Melinda made coffee so weak it made sweetened iced tea feel proud.
“Anyway, she transcribed the meeting minutes wrong. She thought that they said we were changing things to box D, but it was really box B. We don’t even have a box D! How funny is that?”
Steve glared. “You’re telling me I wasted my entire morning doing changes that I now have to undo?”
Patterson pretended not to hear. Or maybe he cared so little he didn’t even have to pretend.
Ever find that you can’t parody something because someone, somewhere, will think it’s a brilliant idea?