2009-06-19 11:41
digitaldiscipline
People expect me to know fucking everything.
"Hey," a coworker says, "do you know anywhere that buys old car batteries?"
"Why would anyone want to buy a used car battery?" I think this is a reasonable question.
"To make money....?"
I can tell he's less certain of his query. I move in. "How would anybody make money from buying an old car battery?"
"Ummm... I have one I want to sell, and, you know, need to find someone who would buy it."
"Try CraigsList."
Seriously, the amount of clueless WTF I find myself dog-paddling through on a fairly regular basis is mildly astonishing. I can only assume that I project an aura of such authority, of Knowing Shit What Men Ought, that people just look to me for answers. This is, generally, fine -- I have no problems being right, or at least intuitively good at being pretty close to it, or having a strong hunch as to where the answer might be (this same phenomenon exists outside the office; the fact that I'm not wandering around department stores and airports in a wall-eyed, shell-shocked daze gets me asked for directions a lot, even when it's fairly obvious I don't work there.
draxzaster can probably back me up when I say that a Utilikilt is not standard-issue attire for TPA or airline employees.
Yeah, I resent the Clueless Imposition. But I sure as fuck have come to expect it.
"Hey," a coworker says, "do you know anywhere that buys old car batteries?"
"Why would anyone want to buy a used car battery?" I think this is a reasonable question.
"To make money....?"
I can tell he's less certain of his query. I move in. "How would anybody make money from buying an old car battery?"
"Ummm... I have one I want to sell, and, you know, need to find someone who would buy it."
"Try CraigsList."
Seriously, the amount of clueless WTF I find myself dog-paddling through on a fairly regular basis is mildly astonishing. I can only assume that I project an aura of such authority, of Knowing Shit What Men Ought, that people just look to me for answers. This is, generally, fine -- I have no problems being right, or at least intuitively good at being pretty close to it, or having a strong hunch as to where the answer might be (this same phenomenon exists outside the office; the fact that I'm not wandering around department stores and airports in a wall-eyed, shell-shocked daze gets me asked for directions a lot, even when it's fairly obvious I don't work there.
Yeah, I resent the Clueless Imposition. But I sure as fuck have come to expect it.
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I can definitely sympathize with this - it happens to me more often than I care to admit, and usually when I'm wearing nothing that comes close to resembling a store uniform.
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Hrm, I wonder if the lead in old batteries is easily cleanable to bullet casting standards.
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but, YMMV
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It moves like an alpha male...
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Cow-irker: Well, what have you tried?
I didn't ask him to join in a guessing game, I asked if he KNEW what it was. I know all the possibilities that are standard for our lab. I don't need someone else giving me idea I've already tried. But he didn't seem to get that. This made for a very angry me, and a very unpleasant day at the office.
...
"Dude... you know what google is, right?"
or "I can train you for $x/hour, here, have a release form!"