It is a quiet day and I actually complete a couple of major financial analyses. Raptor takes a half day and I only talk to him as he is leaving. Per my neighbor, he was in a foul mood in the morning since his office move did not go as smoothly as he had hoped. Raptor stops by in his motorcycle outfit and helmet in hand to give me an order. He instructs me to complete a new analysis and does so in this accusatory tone as if I’m a moron since it did not occur to me to have already done so.

Since I figured that the net impact of a change in a currency rounding rule for a small market with massive inflation will be negligible, I did not get too worked up. Naturally, the Raptor feels that this is of the utmost importance, so earlier he embarked on an email thread that ended up four feet long with one of our overseas colleagues. In the end, the net impact is a couple of grand, which is next to nothing here. Score one for the Serinator. A rare victory, but I need to wait to see what the Raptor responds with before popping the champagne.


This is a post in a series based on my time working at a Fortune 500 company. These posts are taken directly from a journal I decided to keep after witnessing numerous unbelievable and ridiculous incidents. All names have been changed to protect the privacy of the innocent―as well as the guilty. The head of my department is referred to as ‘Raptor,’ which was the nickname given to him by one of my coworkers. Last I checked, Raptor was still employed in the same role at this company.