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stupid, stupid director
It seems the spiel I've used for 7 years is now a cop-out.
" Whilst every precaution has been taken to ensure accuracy, please READ AND CHECK carefully the entire artwork, as it is your responsibility to indicate any changes or errors."
Here's the gist...
We received printready artwork for a self-sealing form that is filled out, folded and sealed to be dropped in the mail. The art was specific to Victoria. A few days later, the same job popped up for 3 other states, though we needed to make the necessary alts.
The instruction was to change the address and get soft-proofs through straight away. We didn't have live jobs for them, just a client screaming down the phone, but since they're one of our biggest, I appeased her demands.
Using the new artwork as a base I began making the address changes. Whilst doing so, I noticed that each state had a specific barcode on the front. Not a worry, as I changed this and gave the client a heads-up that they were also being changed. She was unaware and therefore grateful, as it would have been $20k worth of useless, incorrectly barcoded, evelopy-foldy-things. She signed them off and we ran out the plates.
All 3 states were printed and upon completion of the job, our production manager came up stairs and informed me that there was an error on the reverse. I said something supportive, like "that's a damn shame" and he asked what I'd like him to do about it. I pointed out the approved proof and he's let out a sigh of relief and went off into the distance. I organised an overprint to rectify the issue and the job was salvaged.
The client was happy with the job, but our sales rep (also a director) gave me a spray about how this kind of thing shouldn't happen. I mentioned how we don't have a proof-reader and that the client approved THEIR work, that THEY supplied and that had the alts that THEY requested, plus a the proper barcodes that THEY would have missed if it wasn't stumbled across by the prepress.
The fucktard, knuckle-headed mongoloid then produced a printout with some highlighting. It was the quote from above with his input of...
THAT'S A DAMN COP OUT!
"whilst every precaution" WE DIDN'T TAKE EVERY PRECAUTION. DID WE?
WE NEED TO BE ACCOUNTABLE FOR OUR WORK!
THEY ARE OUR BEST FUCKING CLIENT, WE SHOULD GO THE EXTRA MILE.
Etc etc.
I don't really think I need to mention where he went wrong, nor why I was disappointed with his gripe, as it is quite clear.
I calmly pointed out that people make mistakes and that 'most of us' are human. I also pointed out that I was happy to take full responsibility for my reckless and careless oversight. He noted my obviously apparent sarcasm and he asked me to stop being a "condescending bitch". I told him we'd be far less productive if we proof-read every job that came through, and that the instant responses he's accustomed to, would be a thing of the past. Then we went back and forth for about 25mins, yelling and shouting.
The new receptionist has been here for 2 weeks and knows nothing about the printing process. When I left his office, I walked passed and said something along the lines of "you've gotta love this game" and she responded with a nervous smile. She mentioned that she'd overhead the bulk of the "discussion" and that she agreed with my line of argument... Um discussion. She's already smarter than the rep/director that's been selling print for 15 years. Stupid, stupid man.
I've had a little project on the backburner for a while now, but ihateprepress.com is going to get some more attention very soon.
Everything we say sounds like an excuse, as no fucker understands our job.
We're unappreciated, undervalued and underpaid.
We're the most skilled people in the whole printing process, for fucks sake.
The printers at my work are fucking spastic, lazy fucks that refuse to print without IVS - even when they have plates and a job, but the network is down. If I hear another printer say "why drive a manual (stick) when you could drive an auto", I'll kick their fucking teeth out.
Bah, I started typing this as a vent, but the more I type, the more I remember and the more I want to smack my keyboard across someones face.
I need to get some gonads and find another profession. Perhaps I could cut out 90% of my brain and get into sales. Or cut out 98% and become a press operator.
Stupid. Fucking. Prepress.
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