I can’t sleep. I just had to put this in my blog.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, after a year and seven months in the office, I am proud to say that there is now someone who hates my guts. And it’s not just anyone. She’s the person whom everyone hates!
(Well, technically, not everyone. You have to exclude the outcasts from the picture. Man, am I evil or what?)
Here’s the story.
Moby’s on leave so I had to fill in on moderating the chat. It just so happened that Romina Urra, our guest, is a former buddy/officemate of this person. And so she popped everyone in the office informing them of the event.
Wait a minute. There’s something wrong here. Now I know that’s not legal by the great boss’ standards. Man, we have chats where only the guest and I were talking, but I don’t even dare try pop the masses knowing clearly that this is only for official use.
Now, let me explain that all our chats are moderated, unless the guest wants it otherwise. When you say that a chat is moderated, there’s a room moderator who screens and queues all the messages for the guest. There are good reasons for this. First, it prevents the screen from scrolling too fast and making the room virtually “unchattable”, if there’s such a term. Second, it prevents any untoward event that might put the guest in an awkward position. Lastly, it values the first-come, first-served rule.
In a moderated chatroom, only those given operator or voice status can skip the screening process. Therefore, this is only awarded to the guest, the moderator, chat jocks and respective producer and/or writer. It is the chatroom’s host’s decision as to whom he will grant this.
Back to the story.
The chat started at around 6:00 p.m. and everyone was there, including this person. I placed the room into moderated status and did our SOP’s before I introduced the guest to the chatters.
First, she was posted a message to dear Romina, saying who she is and how she missed her. Like a moderator that I am, I copied the message from the moderator’s room, cleaned it out first, and published it in the public room.
Her next messages went like this:
Bakit wala akong ops?
Ang bagal-bagal naman ng lolo.
Makaalis na nga. Nakakairita ang moderator dito.
I wasn’t surprised with the next messages knowing her personality, but it’s something I’ve never heard from an officemate before.
And she logged out of the chatroom, but she didn’t stop there. She sent IM’s to her buddies telling them how irritated she was.
How did I know? It’s simple, really. First, Dan, who was also in the chatroom, asked if I could please give her an operator status. I said no. Next, William, who just logged in the room, asked me who invited the guest. I told him I don’t know. Then he logged out and left.
Hmmm. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck who invited the guest. Teri told me that she has a chat, so I moderated, plain and simple. From what I remember, it wasn’t even Teri who booked the guest. I got the chat mail from the great boss himself! He forwarded the e-mails of the Chalk people to me. What the fuck is William blabbering about?
Next issue: Mabagal. This dear officemate hasn’t even tried moderating a chat. She wouldn’t be speaking of this if she did. Cutting and pasting is task in itself. Reading it and making it relevant to the conversation makes it harder. And I’m not just cutting and pasting the usual way, like this:
I turn it into something more edible to the guest:
an interesting question from officemate. She asks….
So there’s the scoop. I guess this is one of the rare occasions when someone refused to give the brat what she wants. Let’s see her try to login to the chatroom again. I’ll kick her ass from here to Timbuktu.
In the end, I’m just doing my job. I think she should start with hers, too.
(What the fuck is she doing in my chatroom, anyway?)