Because screw you cake, that's why.
Showing posts with label Crazy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crazy. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Stories from Work: Dear Crazy People
Dear Crazy People,
You exist. That's fine. I have no problem with this. I never said that was the problem. You are free to be as crazy as you wish...
...so long as you do it away from me when I'm working.
See, the problem isn't that you're crazy. The problem is that when you start being crazy I have to stop what I'm doing to stop the crazy.
Case Study No. 1: The Lady Who Trapped Me in the Bathroom
Like all members of the Homo sapiens sapiens family, I eventually feel the need to heed the call of nature and use a toilet. I just made the mistake of having this need on the day of the career fair.
The problem is that the only bathroom within reasonable access is on the second floor. When I was doing my business, you came out and started talking to some poor person about how she would have so many more opportunities at your company than anywhere else. Never mind that her degree was in something you'd have no use for. Your company could help her and she'd better respond! She left quite quickly.
I finished and was washing my hands, thinking you'd see my restaurant-issued apron, my name tag, my hugely oversized shirt and the spots of stuff on my clothes and realize that I was busy. You know that joke about what happens when you assume?
"And which company are you with?" you asked. Uh oh.
"Um, I work upstairs in the restaurant," I replied. That's when you went on and on about how I was ruining my life (your words, not mine) and how your company could make it so much better. Thanks. Right. I have to get back to work now.
Except you wouldn't let me leave.
Oh great. The lunch rush is about to be in full swing, I'm not there, I'm trying to slip past you but you literally are not letting me leave the bathroom, and you're not listening when I'm trying to tell you that I need to get back to work.
I was tempted to make you feel like an idiot. That wouldn't have been nice, but it would have possibly made you shut up for a minute so I could escape your nefarious clutches. I was tempted to tell you that I was a student getting a second bachelor's degree and that I simply didn't have the time to add a full career to my class load.
Eventually you were distracted by a flushing toilet (reminding me that I'm standing in a bathroom), so I ran and hid in the space the doors of the elevator made, hoping you wouldn't come looking for me. That had to be a funny sight, I thought as I peeked furtively around the corner. Whoops! You almost saw me!
It explains why there were people laughing at me as they went downstairs.
Case Study No. 2: "No Chili Sauce Please"
One of the things we serve is Yakisoba. It's very popular, so we make a lot of it. It's also the one thing that gets more special requests than anything else on the menue.
One day I had a table with four Yakisoba bowls. Three of them had no sauce. Now, if you know anything about yakisoba, you know that the bulk of the flavor comes from a lightly spiced sauce that's cooked with the noodles and vegetables. Okay. This is a common request. Some people don't like spicy things.
Well, I get to the table and there's only one girl there. You, dear crazy person. The other three have gone off to parts unknown (but will be back soon so I should just leave the food right there, m'kay?) I asked you who got what. You told me that your three friends ordered the food with no sauce, and you had it with sauce. Okay, not a problem. I hand you the sauced bowl. You take a bite like you've taken it with a shovel, instead of a fork.
That's when your friends returned and I discovered why you took such a big bite.
"Um, excuse me, but I ordered mine with sauce," your friend said, ever-so-politely to me.
"Oh, yeah, I wanted to try it with sauce so I did," you said. Wait, what?! Your poor friend. You'd practically eaten half of her food in one bite so she couldn't have any.
I offered to take her bowl back and have sauce put on and she accepted. When I came back, I asked how the food was.
"Wow! It has so much more flavor with the sauce!" You exclaimed. No duh, dear. The bulk of the flavor of a lot of dishes comes from the sauce it's in.
(As a clarification, this customer is both rude and crazy. She's rude for assuming she could take her friend's food, and crazy for not realizing that the sauce gives it flavor. Or maybe she's just crazy, period, because I had to fix this mess.)
So, dear crazy people, please. Stop. Just stop. I get that you're nuts and that you obviously can't completely control nuts, but seriously? Find someone else to do it to.
You exist. That's fine. I have no problem with this. I never said that was the problem. You are free to be as crazy as you wish...
...so long as you do it away from me when I'm working.
See, the problem isn't that you're crazy. The problem is that when you start being crazy I have to stop what I'm doing to stop the crazy.
Case Study No. 1: The Lady Who Trapped Me in the Bathroom
Like all members of the Homo sapiens sapiens family, I eventually feel the need to heed the call of nature and use a toilet. I just made the mistake of having this need on the day of the career fair.
The problem is that the only bathroom within reasonable access is on the second floor. When I was doing my business, you came out and started talking to some poor person about how she would have so many more opportunities at your company than anywhere else. Never mind that her degree was in something you'd have no use for. Your company could help her and she'd better respond! She left quite quickly.
I finished and was washing my hands, thinking you'd see my restaurant-issued apron, my name tag, my hugely oversized shirt and the spots of stuff on my clothes and realize that I was busy. You know that joke about what happens when you assume?
"And which company are you with?" you asked. Uh oh.
"Um, I work upstairs in the restaurant," I replied. That's when you went on and on about how I was ruining my life (your words, not mine) and how your company could make it so much better. Thanks. Right. I have to get back to work now.
Except you wouldn't let me leave.
Oh great. The lunch rush is about to be in full swing, I'm not there, I'm trying to slip past you but you literally are not letting me leave the bathroom, and you're not listening when I'm trying to tell you that I need to get back to work.
I was tempted to make you feel like an idiot. That wouldn't have been nice, but it would have possibly made you shut up for a minute so I could escape your nefarious clutches. I was tempted to tell you that I was a student getting a second bachelor's degree and that I simply didn't have the time to add a full career to my class load.
Eventually you were distracted by a flushing toilet (reminding me that I'm standing in a bathroom), so I ran and hid in the space the doors of the elevator made, hoping you wouldn't come looking for me. That had to be a funny sight, I thought as I peeked furtively around the corner. Whoops! You almost saw me!
It explains why there were people laughing at me as they went downstairs.
Case Study No. 2: "No Chili Sauce Please"
One of the things we serve is Yakisoba. It's very popular, so we make a lot of it. It's also the one thing that gets more special requests than anything else on the menue.
One day I had a table with four Yakisoba bowls. Three of them had no sauce. Now, if you know anything about yakisoba, you know that the bulk of the flavor comes from a lightly spiced sauce that's cooked with the noodles and vegetables. Okay. This is a common request. Some people don't like spicy things.
Well, I get to the table and there's only one girl there. You, dear crazy person. The other three have gone off to parts unknown (but will be back soon so I should just leave the food right there, m'kay?) I asked you who got what. You told me that your three friends ordered the food with no sauce, and you had it with sauce. Okay, not a problem. I hand you the sauced bowl. You take a bite like you've taken it with a shovel, instead of a fork.
That's when your friends returned and I discovered why you took such a big bite.
"Um, excuse me, but I ordered mine with sauce," your friend said, ever-so-politely to me.
"Oh, yeah, I wanted to try it with sauce so I did," you said. Wait, what?! Your poor friend. You'd practically eaten half of her food in one bite so she couldn't have any.
I offered to take her bowl back and have sauce put on and she accepted. When I came back, I asked how the food was.
"Wow! It has so much more flavor with the sauce!" You exclaimed. No duh, dear. The bulk of the flavor of a lot of dishes comes from the sauce it's in.
(As a clarification, this customer is both rude and crazy. She's rude for assuming she could take her friend's food, and crazy for not realizing that the sauce gives it flavor. Or maybe she's just crazy, period, because I had to fix this mess.)
So, dear crazy people, please. Stop. Just stop. I get that you're nuts and that you obviously can't completely control nuts, but seriously? Find someone else to do it to.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
A Brief Glimpse Into a Sick, Sleep Deprived, Finals Addled Brain
Somewhere in the back of my brain is a program running that tells stories as I go to keep me entertained during the day. Don't believe me? Here's an excerpt from just a few hours ago.
Old School Nat Geo: ...and the intrepid explorer leaves her safe place in search of Chicken Soup.
Pokemon: Suddenly, a Wild Grocery Store appears!
D&D: Roll for initiative. You need to have a five or higher shopping to begin.
Pokemon: Wild Grocery Store uses Overwhelm!
Old School Nat Geo: Umm... and the intrepid explorer forges onward through impossible odds...
D&D: You have a 6 shopping. Roll for damage.
Pokemon: Wild Grocery Store faints!
Old School Nat Geo: Now wait just one cotton pickin' minute! I was here first! Dagnabit, you can't just jump into my show!
Pokemon: A wild National Geographic Narrator attacks!
D&D: Roll for - aw whatever. Dude, I'm the Dungeon Master here! I call the shots!
Old School Nat Geo: No you don't! Put yer dukes up!
Pokemon: Pikachu!
At this point they all begin squabbling, and that's when my brain short circuits and freezes while I stand helplessly staring at some cereal boxes.
Meanwhile...
Starfleet Command: Good job, Captain. You've accomplished your mission. Pay for your chicken soup and bring the USS Enterprise back into Federation space.
To be continued...
Old School Nat Geo: ...and the intrepid explorer leaves her safe place in search of Chicken Soup.
Pokemon: Suddenly, a Wild Grocery Store appears!
D&D: Roll for initiative. You need to have a five or higher shopping to begin.
Pokemon: Wild Grocery Store uses Overwhelm!
Old School Nat Geo: Umm... and the intrepid explorer forges onward through impossible odds...
D&D: You have a 6 shopping. Roll for damage.
Pokemon: Wild Grocery Store faints!
Old School Nat Geo: Now wait just one cotton pickin' minute! I was here first! Dagnabit, you can't just jump into my show!
Pokemon: A wild National Geographic Narrator attacks!
D&D: Roll for - aw whatever. Dude, I'm the Dungeon Master here! I call the shots!
Old School Nat Geo: No you don't! Put yer dukes up!
Pokemon: Pikachu!
At this point they all begin squabbling, and that's when my brain short circuits and freezes while I stand helplessly staring at some cereal boxes.
Meanwhile...
Starfleet Command: Good job, Captain. You've accomplished your mission. Pay for your chicken soup and bring the USS Enterprise back into Federation space.
To be continued...
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Me vs. Spinning Rainbow of Death
Today was a lesson in futility. I've spent hours and hours this week staring at the computer screen, daring it to defy me (which it has. Repeatedly.) only to have my desire for productivity dashed.
Let me back up a bit. I should explain how this battle began, because it's obvious you know nothing of what has been going on this week.
It started on Monday. Monday was nice. Nothing going on, nothing really to do. My Institute class was rescheduled for the next day, and my Videography class was canceled due to an air conditioning problem (you do not want to be stuck in a Salt Lake City studio with no air conditioning in July). Monday was a nice relaxed day.
That should have been my first clue. Mondays are never nice, unless Monday knows that the rest of the week is planning a series of really mean pranks that will leave me sobbing in a fetal position come the weekend.
Tuesday started with Institute. I was ready, and it all went downhill from there. I n discovered that I would have to take all new pictures for my photography portfolio. Oh well. I like taking pictures. Pictures are fun. Driving in the city, however, is not.
Utah is filled with many nice people. Those nice people are not, necessarily, good drivers. There's a huge difference. After fighting my way through crazy, rude drivers to Park City to see my chiropractor (went very well. Only high spot in a series of lows), I had only a short visit before I had to drive back through these drivers. I made it in one piece.
Wednesday, I awoke with a nasty headache. I get cluster headaches, and most days I get them about 4:30, maybe 5:00 in the evening. Today I woke up with it. This bodes for a medicated day of angry pain poking me in the back of the eyeballs. Now, all I wanted to do was knit. Too bad. Stuff to do. As usual.
Come Videography I, I was in so much pain from my headache, sick from not eating most of the day, and annoyed by the constant ringing of my phone. I couldn't focus. I was ready to scream. Then I remembered I had to return stuff to the library. I was dutiful. No more fines.
This morning, my headache was back. I was tired, sluggish, and in a really bad mood. I had to get myself to the editing room. My group member, Walter, and I should have gotten the entire film blocked out, with the detail editing able to be finished tomorrow.
We spent five hours importing.
It wasn't like we wanted to. Macs are a pain in the tush, and I know a lot of Mac lovers! I really don't understand them! I spent most of that time battling the Spinning Rainbow of Death. Half of the film was refusing to import, the other half was terrible (thanks, group member. It's not hard to check out a tripod). I still have to use the terrible half. And they wonder why I'm such a control freak about this stuff.
But it's raining. I'm going home. I'm going to try and figure out this stupid import problem while I watch Midsomer Murders and plan the remake of the Eyelet Blouse.
The week still has a day. I think I can survive until, then, but if not, I leave all my yarn to my sister Erin. Erin, if you want more socks, I think you could make them yourself.
Let me back up a bit. I should explain how this battle began, because it's obvious you know nothing of what has been going on this week.
It started on Monday. Monday was nice. Nothing going on, nothing really to do. My Institute class was rescheduled for the next day, and my Videography class was canceled due to an air conditioning problem (you do not want to be stuck in a Salt Lake City studio with no air conditioning in July). Monday was a nice relaxed day.
That should have been my first clue. Mondays are never nice, unless Monday knows that the rest of the week is planning a series of really mean pranks that will leave me sobbing in a fetal position come the weekend.
Tuesday started with Institute. I was ready, and it all went downhill from there. I n discovered that I would have to take all new pictures for my photography portfolio. Oh well. I like taking pictures. Pictures are fun. Driving in the city, however, is not.
Utah is filled with many nice people. Those nice people are not, necessarily, good drivers. There's a huge difference. After fighting my way through crazy, rude drivers to Park City to see my chiropractor (went very well. Only high spot in a series of lows), I had only a short visit before I had to drive back through these drivers. I made it in one piece.
Wednesday, I awoke with a nasty headache. I get cluster headaches, and most days I get them about 4:30, maybe 5:00 in the evening. Today I woke up with it. This bodes for a medicated day of angry pain poking me in the back of the eyeballs. Now, all I wanted to do was knit. Too bad. Stuff to do. As usual.
Come Videography I, I was in so much pain from my headache, sick from not eating most of the day, and annoyed by the constant ringing of my phone. I couldn't focus. I was ready to scream. Then I remembered I had to return stuff to the library. I was dutiful. No more fines.
This morning, my headache was back. I was tired, sluggish, and in a really bad mood. I had to get myself to the editing room. My group member, Walter, and I should have gotten the entire film blocked out, with the detail editing able to be finished tomorrow.
We spent five hours importing.
It wasn't like we wanted to. Macs are a pain in the tush, and I know a lot of Mac lovers! I really don't understand them! I spent most of that time battling the Spinning Rainbow of Death. Half of the film was refusing to import, the other half was terrible (thanks, group member. It's not hard to check out a tripod). I still have to use the terrible half. And they wonder why I'm such a control freak about this stuff.
But it's raining. I'm going home. I'm going to try and figure out this stupid import problem while I watch Midsomer Murders and plan the remake of the Eyelet Blouse.
The week still has a day. I think I can survive until, then, but if not, I leave all my yarn to my sister Erin. Erin, if you want more socks, I think you could make them yourself.
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