Red Mosquito

spike wrote:

pepperwhiteMFC wrote:The poor girl that wants to go out for dinner and drinks with one of our contractors asked me today why he didn’t seem like he wanted to join her (and her team), and whether she has to pay him for the day for that. All I could say was that it was probably the reason because he’s working for us to get paid, not go out for drinks in his free time. And then she says.. lol… omg I can’t help but love her a little for this…”but that almost makes him a prostitute.”

Has she started referring to him as Baby Reindeer yet?

Higgs wrote:

pepperwhiteMFC wrote:The poor girl that wants to go out for dinner and drinks with one of our contractors asked me today why he didn’t seem like he wanted to join her (and her team), and whether she has to pay him for the day for that. All I could say was that it was probably the reason because he’s working for us to get paid, not go out for drinks in his free time. And then she says.. lol… omg I can’t help but love her a little for this…”but that almost makes him a prostitute.”

We are all prostitutes. It ain't no thang.

wease wrote:

pepperwhiteMFC wrote:The poor girl that wants to go out for dinner and drinks with one of our contractors asked me today why he didn’t seem like he wanted to join her (and her team), and whether she has to pay him for the day for that. All I could say was that it was probably the reason because he’s working for us to get paid, not go out for drinks in his free time. And then she says.. lol… omg I can’t help but love her a little for this…”but that almost makes him a prostitute.”

So getting paid for one’s work makes one a prostitute?

pepperwhiteMFC wrote:

spike wrote:

pepperwhiteMFC wrote:The poor girl that wants to go out for dinner and drinks with one of our contractors asked me today why he didn’t seem like he wanted to join her (and her team), and whether she has to pay him for the day for that. All I could say was that it was probably the reason because he’s working for us to get paid, not go out for drinks in his free time. And then she says.. lol… omg I can’t help but love her a little for this…”but that almost makes him a prostitute.”

Has she started referring to him as Baby Reindeer yet?

Oof, I just googled that term. It’s definitely seeming to lean this direction.

She showed me the photo he sent her of he and his wife. And zoomed in and out on the wife’s face with some comments. My reply was that since his wife runs their business - he probably needs to be paid for anything associated with our business, whether it’s actual labor or team dinners. He’s an independent contractor.

She is also actively seeking a budget for hire him herself, as I’m sure she feels I’m not helping much to ‘facilitate the opportunities’ for her.

I meet with her and her team to check in on things related to my product in their channel, and I hate this whole situation among others with her, but my reality is that I need to do my job and as sufferable as this all is, I’m trying to manage it as carefully as possible.

Interestingly, yesterday in our lunch meeting, I managed to give her a task that she took willingly (hard to do in the past), and asked her to volunteer for an event for our internal women’s group that I’m leading, and I encouraged her to advocate for herself in her career path, because she also feels stuck under a manager that she describes as “obstructing her career development.”

I’m not going to go to HR with any of this stuff because she admitted yesterday also that she’s already engaged with HR on her career development issues, but I am going to have a conversation with our contractor. I need to find another contractor to substitute in his place for the times she needs to schedule for her events.

What are your thoughts on how I’m handling this? I also won’t do these lunch meeting touch bases with her alone any longer, I’ve been including the other young lady on her team. Quasi witness. Keeping in mind ole girl would definitely throw me in front of a car, as my manager has expressed to me.

wease wrote:

pepperwhiteMFC wrote:

spike wrote:

pepperwhiteMFC wrote:The poor girl that wants to go out for dinner and drinks with one of our contractors asked me today why he didn’t seem like he wanted to join her (and her team), and whether she has to pay him for the day for that. All I could say was that it was probably the reason because he’s working for us to get paid, not go out for drinks in his free time. And then she says.. lol… omg I can’t help but love her a little for this…”but that almost makes him a prostitute.”

Has she started referring to him as Baby Reindeer yet?

Oof, I just googled that term. It’s definitely seeming to lean this direction.

She showed me the photo he sent her of he and his wife. And zoomed in and out on the wife’s face with some comments. My reply was that since his wife runs their business - he probably needs to be paid for anything associated with our business, whether it’s actual labor or team dinners. He’s an independent contractor.

She is also actively seeking a budget for hire him herself, as I’m sure she feels I’m not helping much to ‘facilitate the opportunities’ for her.

I meet with her and her team to check in on things related to my product in their channel, and I hate this whole situation among others with her, but my reality is that I need to do my job and as sufferable as this all is, I’m trying to manage it as carefully as possible.

Interestingly, yesterday in our lunch meeting, I managed to give her a task that she took willingly (hard to do in the past), and asked her to volunteer for an event for our internal women’s group that I’m leading, and I encouraged her to advocate for herself in her career path, because she also feels stuck under a manager that she describes as “obstructing her career development.”

I’m not going to go to HR with any of this stuff because she admitted yesterday also that she’s already engaged with HR on her career development issues, but I am going to have a conversation with our contractor. I need to find another contractor to substitute in his place for the times she needs to schedule for her events.

What are your thoughts on how I’m handling this? I also won’t do these lunch meeting touch bases with her alone any longer, I’ve been including the other young lady on her team. Quasi witness. Keeping in mind ole girl would definitely throw me in front of a car, as my manager has expressed to me.

Yeah. I’d try to stay away from her as much as possible. That she’s still trying to woo this guy knowing he’s married gives a pretty good indication of her attitudes and morals. If something went south between the two of you, she wouldn’t hesitate to throw you under the bus.

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

tragabigzanda wrote:Is there a worse self-imposed social media title than “Change Agent”?

BurtReynolds wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:Is there a worse self-imposed social media title than “Change Agent”?

"Science communicator" is one that I don't like.

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

Jorge wrote:A porn position?!

tragabigzanda wrote:

pepperwhiteMFC wrote:Social Activationist

Omg

tragabigzanda wrote:Im wondering if wease’s employer just hasn’t updated their Google business details