Thursday, June 14, 2007

There were about 30 people in the kitchen area for doughnut day.
Not a single one of them thought to make coffee.
Okay. So last night our World of Warcraft guild (Innkeepers, Duskwood server) got a little larger. A long time friend and gaming buddy showed up from nowhere (or another server, which is as close to nowhere as a person can get) and enlisted right away. And that was awesome.
Thanks for hanging out with us, Darrell.
And then this morning, before coffee, there was a meeting request in my email inbox. Since I had no legitimate reason to skip it, I accepted and selected the option to not send a response.
This fills in my calendar, updates their calendar, and simply doesn't send them a copy of their own email stamped "Accepted".
Then, I visited the copy machine to prepare the documents I'd need for this meeting.
While standing there, I discussed the meeting topic with the meeting organizer, confirmed (indirectly, I suppose) that I would be there and went over the direction I wanted the meeting to go, along with the only acceptable outcome (That being noted in my plans for Total Global Domination, Section 4, Articles 11 and 12 -- Though I did not choose to identify them as such during this conversation. Oh ,no. There will be plenty of time for that later.) then gathered my papers (I don't trust the integrated stapler) and made my way back to my lair/desk.
A while later, she came by to find out if I'd be at the meeting.
I was a bit confused, but chalked it up to late coffee.
She said I had not accepted the meeting and I confirmed its place on my calendar. Then she told me she never got my response.
Please keep in mind this whole exchange, from beginning to end, including getting the original email, was about 20 minutes.
I explained that I chose to not send a response, since we had discussed the meeting in person.
It looked like I had slapped her and I began to feel bad about it.
"I thought you knew I'd be there," I said, "I'm the one that wanted the meeting. I just didn't send the response."
"Why not?"
"I accepted," I was trying hard to deflect some of the outrage I could see building in her, "I just didn't send a response. I usually don't. I was trying to help you keep your Inbox tidy."
I think she took personal offense at this, though none was intended.
"Just send the response!"
I frantically edited my meeting options and wasted LAN bandwidth and mailbox space in order to avoid being stabbed with a letter opener.
"Okay." I watched the send/receive lights for a bit and then said, "You should have the response now."
"Great!" She actually seemed relieved, "I'll see you at 10!"
If the other attendees were rabid bears, I'd be looking forward to this meeting more. I have some understanding of rabid bears.

2 comments:

Darrell said...

Gotta love meetings! And we shall pwn Duskwood.. in a very small way!

Anonymous said...

Listen-that meeting trick...it never works here either. I'm just left to sit online and watch videos all day...Actually I'm working on a campaign that helps out the whole bored at work situation (I’m working for a social media agency, and we do work for Lipton). It’s a pretty funny website called www.fightindooritis.com. You can go to the site to view videos about entrenched office workers, take a quiz to see if you are suffering from “Indooritis” and send some free Beavergrams to your friends who haven’t seen the sunshine in a while.