Meanie Mondays -or- Why Ya Gotta Be So MEAN?? Installation #1

Today kicks off a new weekly series I'm gonna call

 "Meanie Mondays"

Every week I will add to this new series but only 1 a week (and obviously on Mondays) so I don't run the chance of you guys getting as depressed as I can get about this topic.

I think this new series deserves a theme song. So because this talented young lady won Entertainer of the Year TWICE (and by the age of 21 to boot) AND because I'm forced to listen to this often in the truck while taxi-ing my daughter here and there, I'm choosing little Miss Taylor Swift's song:

"Mean"

In case you've been hiding under a rock and haven't heard the song before and would like to know what the heck I'm talkin' about, please click here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYa1eI1hpDE&ob=av2e

So let's begin, shall we?

I get a TON of abusive messages every week.

Betcha didn't know that now, did ya?

Us HR/Recruiter types, we're on the firing lines man. It doesn't matter what company I work for, EVERY company is going to have disgruntled previous customers and/or clients. Especially in the insurance industry. It's just a fact of life.

Fortunately I work for a company that is top ranking and actually cares about people...but of course that's just MY opinion. The people that email me? They have a different opinion.

Let me first off be clear here, I do not have an aversion to swearing/cursing/cussing etc.

To give you an idea how far back this "affliction" goes, I'm going to let you guys in on an embarrassing little secret.

One of my very first full sentences that I formed together as a teeny tiny child wasn't in the best "taste". 

 This is how the story goes 

(as repeated by my parents for years after the fact):

Setting- back in the *very* early 70's, I was in our small living room, watching TV by myself,

 sitting on the floor in my cloth

 (yes I'm old)

 diaper, complete with yellow ducky large safety pins and those AWFUL rubberized plastic diaper cover/pants things on. 

Remember those people? 

(Because if you do? You're JUST as old as I am.) 

I was watching Captain Kangaroo-

 remember him? 

(Again- if you do, YOU'RE EFFING OLD) 

and all of a sudden a commercial for PSA Airlines came on.

Now in case you aren't as effing old as I am and, in fact, are legitimately too young to remember this... these were planes that had a big black nose and smiley face painted on the front of them. Apparently the commercial startled me so badly towards the end of it that I stood up, backed up a few paces, and then watched in horror as the smiley face came at me on the screen exclaiming

 "What the HELL is that?!?"

 (I think that unbeknownst to me, my mother was watching this go down from the kitchen if I remember the story correctly). Anyhoo- thanks to modern technology and the glorious wonders of the internet, I just found a similar commercial for the airline so you can get an idea of what the hell I'm talking about. Run in 1985, they used the same "nose of plane coming at you" method as apparently, (and as evident from my reaction as a wee thing) it was effective.
Here's a clip of it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NH7QUSnNCtE&feature=related

So that was my first sentence.

Not a terribly naughty word, but still kind of alarming for a two year old to be forming as her first token sentence to go down in the baby book.

Skipping ahead to more recent years--- those that have either worked with me or hung out with me on any kind of a level more than "fleeting" will know that I occasionally have a potty mouth. Not every other sentence kind of potty mouth, but you know, a few times a day at the very least. (With my days and my inbox? I'm sure you'd all agree that it's not unwarranted.)

I would even go so far as to venture to guess that all of my many housemates would nominate me for 

"Housemate with the Biggest Potty Mouth". 

(Yeah, I know... SO proud of myself.)

(Although just for the record, my sister would come in a close 2nd...hi Tray! Love ya! ;0)

ANYWAY-  I'm very AWARE of the fact that I have a 13 year old precious, innocent, darling daughter for those of you whose brains just went there...but let me give you some perspective here:

I grew up in print shops and around a bunch of drunken sailors in yacht clubs. Aside from tattoo shops and jail, these 2 environments would easily land at least in the top 5 for "world's worst gathering of cussers."

So my stupid parenting philosophy is this: if I act like it's not a big deal and the world isn't going to suddenly end if Darling Daughter decides to cuss, then you know what? She's probably not gonna think it's that great and isn't going to be inclined to drop the F bomb every other word when she's at school with her friends. I say this only from observation- I grew up with a lot of friends that had strict households- you know the kind- they aren't allowed to say Crap, Crud or Shoot without getting in big trouble? 

Yeah, those households. 

And how did those friends act when they came to school?

Like cussing lunatics.

They made it so HARD to have a normal conversation with them because of the verbal assault being bestowed upon everyone in our group, it was downright ridiculous. 

My brilliant parenting philosophy even extends into areas such as hair color. So the heck what if Darling Daughter wants a purple streak in her hair? It's not the end of the world. And in my pea brain if daddy and I don't refuse, if we don't say to her: NO WAY, WAIT TILL YOU'RE 18 etc, I feel we just might actually be reducing the chances of her shaving her head and getting 20 nose rings at 18.5 years old. 

Reverse psychology? 

Totally.

Will it come back to bite me in the ass some day, causing me to chuck my brilliant parenting method out the window?

Probably.

But I digress...I'm kinda getting off track here...

Back to the meanies in my inbox.

They cuss a lot. 

Like I've told you guys before on a previous post, I always check the time stamp. And yes, most of these offensive emails are done late at night, so people get a little "looser" with their inhibitions. 

But as thick of a skin as I try to have, it's still terribly unsettling to open up my inbox at 8:07 am and start my day off with reading the assaults. I've gotten to the point where I'm actually AFRAID to click on any email sent to me that doesn't have an attachment with it. (If there's no attachment, that means there's no resume, ergo there's a 95% chance they're going to tell me to go to hell in one or more various ways.)

Here's the email I'm choosing to showcase today.

And if you have an aversion to cussing,

a) I'm sure I've already offended you and can't believe you're still reading and

b) you should just stop reading the blog right...about....NOW.

Back story: I found an excellent candidate on a job board late one afternoon. He had a strong insurance sales and management background, plus a great real estate background. He was a member of Toastmasters, and a California State Finalist in Impromptu Speaking & Policy Debate Competitions. He even deemed himself an "Award-winning communicator." Hmmm. Seems like a good catch, eh?

I called him, left a message.

I emailed him, saying I left a message and that I'd like to chat with him when he had a free moment.

This was his email back to me that I received in my inbox the following morning when I came into work (time stamp on his email- 10:38 pm):

"Fuck off Stephanie- fake job asshole, why the fuck are you contacting me? Put me on your horrible companys do not contact list. Oh and fuck off."

So, okay, like, wow. That's actually not so bad compared to what I normally get in my inbox (unfortunately).

But for some reason this guy really chapped my hide. 

Creamed my corn.

PISSED ME OFF.

Normally I don't say anything back and just put the Meanies on our company's do not contact list and move on. For some reason this one made me feel like I had to defend myself/my company so I wrote this to him:

"Dear _________,

I received your email in my inbox this morning and wanted to let you know that you've been placed on our do not contact list. We were originally interested in the "Insurance and real estate sales and team management" portion of your resume, as well as the CA State Finalist competition winnings you listed as clearly those could have been incredible assets for you and our company to work with in a mutually beneficial setting. Although it's a little shocking to see "Fuck off fake job asshole" as a response from a gentleman with a resume reading "Award-winning communicator", we are sincerely sorry to have bothered you and I can reassure you it won't happen again.

Regards,

Stephanie Norberg

________________ (company name there)

Oooo he did NOT like that. Not one bit.

Thirty minutes later he came back with:

"I have reported you and your company and all the career sites will be blocking you. Eat my asshole, Bitch.

Best,

_______"

Really? I mean seriously?

Reporting me for what? Apologizing that I thought he was a good candidate and have placed him on the do not contact list? 

My blood was boiling, but like any good worker, I kept my cool, tried to remain professional and let it go.

I didn't respond.

Three hours later he must have had some MORE whiskey to calm himself down as he suddenly had a change of heart and emailed me YET AGAIN:

"I didn't really report you. It's just really frustrating in this job market you know?"

and that was all.

So really now, what was Psycho Boy expecting of me? To get sympathetic with him after he said such "award-winning" things to me? Pulll-ease. I didn't respond to him again (I'm ballsy, but not THAT ballsy)...

But WTF? WHY do people feel they have to send horrific emails out to people as a vehicle to take out all their aggression? Don't they know there's an actual person that has feelings on the receiving end of that horrible spew of filth? 

In other words, WHY YA GOTTA BE SO MEAN??

And now, I think I need to go have some whiskey.