Somehow, the section of my job description reading �and other duties as assigned� has expanded to include handling all maintenance complaints. I�m not sure when the change occurred, but suddenly, my voice- and e-mail boxes are brimming with worried-sounding messages from, say, a coworker concerned that someone might encounter the horrible smell in the third-floor ladies� room and associate it solely with her.

Some of the complaints are ordinary: �Hey, it�s Lisa. One of the lights is out over my cube. Can you call someone to fix it?� I sure can, Lisa! As a reward for her lack of emotion and urgency, Lisa gets to go to the top of the Fix-It List, with the actual urgent problems involving urine or the homeless or flames.

I reserve the bottom of the Fix-It List for special cases, and there is a lot of competition to see who stays at the lowest spot. Generally, the criteria for remaining low on the list include:

1. Calling me and e-mailing me AND coming to see me about a single issue within a fifteen-minute period, with extra negative bonus points if the complainant asks more than two other coworkers about my whereabouts, within my earshot.


2. Typing the complaint in all-caps or in a variety of fonts, especially if the words describing the actual problem are typed in red or some other bright color, so I be sure to see that the RECYCLE BIN is OVERFLOWING.


3. Stopping me in the hall to perform a dramatic re-enactment of the moment when the problem was discovered. This one happens a lot, although the dramatics are limited to two specific people, so maybe they�re competing for Best Actress in a Dramatic Complaint, or something. For some reason, this style of complaint tends to include a lot of fake choking and coughing, hand to chest, like they�re auditioning for the role of Mimi in La Boh�me.


4. Including the word �stinky� or �turd� in the complaint. Unnecessary.


5. Overstating the effect of the problem, as in the time I got a message from someone with the subject �I just had a HORRIBLE experience!!!� which turned out to be that she had nowhere to set down her purse while she looked for the keys to let her into the building.

This afternoon, when I returned from a meeting, this message was waiting for me:

Something stinks really bad in the break room. Maybe a dead rodent?

That�s almost as inviting as the Great Elevator Peeing Incident�how could I resist rushing to inhale the aroma? I wish I could say that I did rush to inhale the aroma, but of course I took my damn time about it, as I do with everything else, and by the time I got to the break room, everything was peaches and cream, relatively. I conferred with another employee in there, and she agreed that there was no problem. My favorite type of complaint: self-resolving.

Then, I came back to my desk, grumbling over the recent high volume of odor-related complaints and realized that although it was 3:30 in the afternoon, and although I had in fact showered this morning, I had neglected to apply deodorant.

You may address all related complaints to my attention.

Star of the day. . .Cyril Jordan