And no, he wasn't able to clear it either. Got me to wondering. Was the person..? The same individual who walked by, carrying a stack of what looked like personal mail..? What's really funny ... not funny, is the same person with the stack, a few weeks earlier, had told me, point blank, "The shredder is jammed." Wanted to say, "ya don't say!" But i didn't ;) Richie's tone was as if i'm one of the kitchen help - oh well, no big deal. Anyway, it sure was jammed. Choaked, with pieces of that busy bank statement, and yeah, enough of the account holder's name...
Per the last post, bring your personal drama to work? Might come to a blogger near you.
All's i know is, the next day when there was some work papers to be shredded, had ended up going across the hall to use theirs. Well, that's no longer an option. What next? Another floor? That is, if richie-pseudo-rich doesn't get there first. That would be rude, by the way - sort of like walking into a neighbor's house without knocking.
All's i know is, richie must have been in a hurry. Why? It's not like the supervisors are around every corner, every day. Why not shread the personal drama two, maybe three, sheets at a time? There's time for that, there was never a line at either machine. Maybe there's an element of embarrassment of secrecy; something being sent to the residence for which a domestic partner may have issues? Don't know. Whatever the situation, it shouldn't be a workplace problem.
Per the last post, it's only a matter of time, before management will have to step in - as if they don't have enough to deal with. Ugh!
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