Data Entry: Comedy for a Tech Generation
I'm sorry I've been MIA for the past week or two. I really like my new job, that's all, and I get home late. I keep meaning to post on my lunch breaks, but then I always find myself doing something else, like returning a phone call, making up for a late arrival, or sleeping.
Sometimes toward the end of the day I get kind of punchy, and when I do little data anomalies just crack me up. Although I rationally understand when this kind of thing occurs that someone from the EPA just entered certain information in the wrong box, it never fails to amuse me when my output takes on the quality of a surrealist word game, such as:
Floor Identifier
Basement
3rd Floor NW
2nd Floor Mezzanine
1996
or
Cleaning Products, Specify Other
Mr. Clean
Shiny Shoe Gum Remover
SofScrub with Bleach
Racine, WI
As yet I have failed to amuse anyone else with this, but it usually sends me into hysterics.
Once when I was a high school volunteer on a City Council campaign, I was taking my turn cold-calling potential donors. You can imagine how popular these calls were even when we got the name right. But once I called up and, as per the spreadsheet I'd been handed, asked for Abraha Stein, to which the old lady on the other hand asked, astounded at the sheer stupidity of it, "You mean Abraham?" Of course there were also donors called Buttweisel and Beaglehole, and those turned out to be spelled perfectly.
Sometimes toward the end of the day I get kind of punchy, and when I do little data anomalies just crack me up. Although I rationally understand when this kind of thing occurs that someone from the EPA just entered certain information in the wrong box, it never fails to amuse me when my output takes on the quality of a surrealist word game, such as:
Floor Identifier
Basement
3rd Floor NW
2nd Floor Mezzanine
1996
or
Cleaning Products, Specify Other
Mr. Clean
Shiny Shoe Gum Remover
SofScrub with Bleach
Racine, WI
As yet I have failed to amuse anyone else with this, but it usually sends me into hysterics.
Once when I was a high school volunteer on a City Council campaign, I was taking my turn cold-calling potential donors. You can imagine how popular these calls were even when we got the name right. But once I called up and, as per the spreadsheet I'd been handed, asked for Abraha Stein, to which the old lady on the other hand asked, astounded at the sheer stupidity of it, "You mean Abraham?" Of course there were also donors called Buttweisel and Beaglehole, and those turned out to be spelled perfectly.
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