The Taylor Files, Vol 3

The third part of what seems to be becoming a weekly series revolving around the Post-It note antics of my true favorite employee, Taylor.

Complaint: Ethernet cords are trying to eat my legs.

P.S. Sharon and Elsa are very loud. [these are the two quietest ladies in the entire office]

<property address>

Please disregard property.

[I told Taylor that we cannot ‘disregard’ a property just because he’s too lazy to work on it. His response?]

Taylor: “Nobody’s living there. It’s useless.”

Me: “Taylor, we deal in foreclosures. All these properties are vacant.”

Taylor: “…Then we should disregard EVERYTHING.”

Computadora?

Fire Kevin. He’s a jerk.

I don’t feel safe with these aliens, man.

Dear Santa, [every day, I have to distribute paperwork around the office, which has led to Taylor calling me Santa and being crushed if I don’t have a delivery for him]

Please buy me that rocket launcher I saw at the store with Kevin.

It is only $1000.

You make 2 billion pesos a year, right?

[I told Taylor I would not buy him a rocket launcher and his face fell- moments later, he started asking if he was getting coal]

Taylor: “Sam, if you bring me coal and put it in my stocking, I will bring a world of misery down on you.”

Some chump is touching my stuff.

[I stepped out of the room to meet with another manager for a moment- when I returned, this was on my desk]

Complaint @ Sam

Reason- absent/not workin

[Taylor informed me he wasn’t Taylor anymore, and when I asked him who he was instead, this is the conversation that ensued]

Taylor: “I’m William Howard Taft.”

Me: *looking at the skinny little kid in front of me* “I don’t think you have the girth to be Taft.”

Taylor: *flushing deep red* “Sam, oh my god, that’s not appropriate!”

Me: “What? You’re not. You’re too small to be Taft.”

Taylor: “SAM. YOU ARE THE GIRL MY MOTHER WARNED ME ABOUT. SHE TOLD ME YOU WOULD MAKE FUN OF ME.”

Me: “Taylor, I’m not making fun of you. What are you talking about?”

Taylor: “You’re talking about my man-parts.”

Me: “…No, I’m not. I just said you lacked Taft’s girth-”

Taylor: “SEE?!”

Me: “…Taylor, just because I used the word ‘girth’ doesn’t mean I’m talking about your, ah, man-parts.”

Taylor: “Yes it does.”

Me: “No, I just meant that Taft is known for having been a large man. A fat man. Haven’t you ever heard the silly story about him getting stuck in a bathtub?”

Taylor: “Oh. Ooohhh. Yeah, I’m not fat. I’m sexy.” *wiggles eyebrows*

[Kevin and Taylor both tried to open a website for the City of Lumberton, but it froze their internet. Taylor then asked me to open the webpage, and because I didn’t know what had happened to the two of them, I did. And my internet froze up. An hour later, my internet was lagging for different reasons. Taylor heard me mumble something to it and slid this across my desk]

The City of Lumberton strikes back.

Michelle @ Atmos [one of our utility companies we deal with frequently] wants me.

Kevin was smoking in the bathroom.

I’m mute.

Feline obtained lingua.

Please print genetic sequence for:

  • long legs
  • stretchy arms
  • invisibility
  • flight
  • gills (optional)

100_7367

[that is a picture of our building- apparently, he didn’t get a chance to finish labeling this before I got back to my desk, but he informed me that I am the little devil figure standing outside- he said I’m laughing as he burns]

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