I was trying really hard to find something else to talk about other than work. I really was, but then I remembered I had started this blog to RANT about life/work shit so I decided to stop second guessing my posts. Jeezus Jones! It's not like I'm being judged over here...
P-T S has added an extra little excitement to my life in the form of, gut wrenching fury, acid to the crotch, hammer to the head, adventures.
I have only met one other person in my life who swears they did everything right but mischievous elves came and fucked with their perfection and left them standing there looking like nitwits.
I once worked with this guy we'll call Frankie. Frankie was a breader (person who breaded the chicken, and cleaned the restaurant) at the illustrious Brown's Chicken & Pasta and was a huge pain in the ass.
Every single time I told him to do something, he would stand there, in his skinny jeans, bob his head up and down saying "okay okay okay" then do the complete OPPOSITE of what I told him. Whenever I would confront him, his response would always be
"I swear I did it right!"
Frankie? I asked for 8 chicken breasts and you gave me 8 thighs.
No. I swear I gave you 8 breasts. They must be in there somewhere!
Really? Where would they go Frankie? Did they evaporate? Did they escape through the tiny little holes then force themselves through the pipes and are now making their way to KFC?
I dunno but I swear I gave them to you!
Andy and I have many reminiscing laughs at Frankie's expense since he was also a character. He was shaped like an old fashioned match stick, skinny as can be with fiery red hair in a mini afro and freckles. He tended to repeat things and do a little shuffle when he was put on the spot. This was the reason I never fired him. Because he made me giggle. Don't judge me, I lead a very sad life!
Flash forward about a hundred years and I no longer find it even a little bit fuckin amusing.
I no longer giggle when I'm told "I swear I did it right!". Instead, my jaw tightens, my hands curl into fists and I pray for a super villain to come take me as his hostage, then splatter my guts when no one wants to pay him the $10 he's asking for my freedom.
Sadly, I'm cursed with being the ultimate professional so I haven't let loose with the expletives itching to escape my mouth and slap some sense into little Miss No Brains. This was the constructive criticism I gave her.
"I appreciate that you're still learning but DO NOT tell me you are following my instructions. If you were, your notes/memos would be in the system and your itemized statement would have printed. IT'S NOT THE SYSTEM, IT'S YOU."
Her response was to tell me how she had mastered the first step. Big woop!
So, for the next few seconds, I am going to say what I really want to say to Female Frankie.
"Listen very carefully you stupid shithead. In my 3 years at the Asylum, I have never had the system EAT any notes/memos I entered. If they're not there, it's because your brain dead body did not enter YES when the easy-as-fuckin-breathing system asked you if you WANTED to save your notes/memo. If the itemized statement didn't print, it's because your dumbass DID NOT ENTER YES when the system asked if the printer was ready. MY 5 YEAR OLD NIECE could do a better job than you do WHILE IN HER SLEEP! You fuckin waste of space!!"
"And P.S. Stop telling me your head hurts from all these things you're learning! Because A) you are obviously NOT learning anything and B) imagine how mine feels now that I have a 45 lb empty head hanging from my neck????"
Thank you for listening,
To my "AnonyMOUSE" hater (who I think followed me from Uproarious, aren't I the lucky one that gets all the weirdos? I feel so honored to inspire random hate from bottom dwellers) who wrote this:
Why is it that when men say something “mean” about women "we’re" sexist but when women turn around and say the same shit about men "they’re" not sexist? Men are funnier because women take “offense” to everything and take things too "seriously". I hope your husband “learns” to put you in your place!
Dude, I get it! You have a "penis". You like playing with it all by yourself. "That" doesn't "impress" me. The "day" you can make it reach "your" "butthole"? "That" "day" I will give you "my" "love" and "adoration".
Until that time, keep on trying.
Or keep on truckin'. Or keep on keeping on.