Stupidity striving for equilibrium

I don't know what strikes me as more stupid:

• Ted E. sending a series of emails to the same tech asking exactly the same question about several different computers, rather than simply compiling and emailing a list; or
  
• the same tech, without a trace of irony or self-consciousness, sending exactly the same reply to each individual email from Ted.

On the bright side, Ted's now departed for a month's holiday. Finally. He managed to draw it out by doing a grand tour of the office to say good-bye to everyone and tell them the exact date of his return. I'm not sure why, although the smart money is on equal parts stupidity and delusions of grandeur.

Words to strike fear

Without warning, Ted turns to The Invertebrate: "Randy for you, Invertebrate."

There's the office equivalent of crickets and tumbleweed.  Then everyone's brains try to climb out their ears to either flee in horror or roll around the floor in helpless laughter.

Ted, oblivious, waves a telephone handset at The Invertebrate. "It's Randy. From Microsoft*. He wants to talk to you."

Another exercise in communication falls victim to Ted's gift for making context-free statements.

---

*No, really. I'm not making this up. After the phone call was finished, Randy from Microsoft was subjected to much (probably) undeserved mockery.

The struggle of being Ted.

Ted approaches. "I'm taking off early. I've been struggling all day."

Because remembering to breathe in and out can be draining like that.

The Invertebrate comes back from a meeting and notices that there are even fewer people here than usual.

"Where's Ted? Gone already?"

"Yeah.  He said he was "struggling"."

"Struggling? With what? His work? Thinking?"

"I don't know. I wasn't game to ask."

The burden of being Ted

The Stress Fiend is off yet again (she's nominally working three-day weeks at the moment, struggles to manage even that consistently, but refuses to admit that there's a problem) and Ted's treating that and everything else as a personal affront.

He's sulking at the moment after trying to pass a couple of clients off to someone else to deal with, only to have them insist he actually direct them to the right section instead of just forwarding the calls through to the first technically-minded person he has line-of-sight on.

Many great, world-weary sighs ensue.

He's also working hard at feigning ignorance today*, but has already overplayed his hand badly.

The Invertebrate: "That kind of thing needs to go to the tech support guys."

Ted: "Who are the tech support guys?"

The Invertebrate waves his hand absently over the cubicle wall towards the desktop support team who've sat adjoining our area for at least the last five years. "Those guys, Ted. Those guys."

---

* I know, I know. This doesn't seem like something he should have to work at, but he's not content with just lying and saying "I don't know" and always over-reaches and tries to convince people that not only does he not know, he's never known, and has never been given any reason to think that this is something he could reasonably be expected to know or find out about any time in the several years he's been here. It's probably the only aspect of his job where he's actually set the bar too high for himself.