Thanks to The Plumber!!

I am just getting ready for work and am already frustrated before I am even there! Do you want to know why? Because now that The Plumber is only allowed to work two hours at a time doing data entry, everyone else gets fucked. How so? Well everyone used to get a break from the public by either scanning or doing mail every few weeks. Now we are just going back and forth from the counter to the phones. It is absolutely ridiculous. This will only cause more frustration with my co-workers and most likely even more people will be calling in sick, because I'm sorry, but one can only handle so much of dealing with fucking morons on a daily basis. I am just pissed at the moment, I know that not everyone is a moron that has a traffic ticket, but this is what happens when you don't get a break from the public. It affects EVERYONE. What's even more amazing is when she is going back and forth to her chosen little jobs she takes at least 20 minutes and by the time she is there she hardly does a fucking thing. Okay I'm done for now. This is basically a free write so I'm just letting it all out for now. I better get ready for the day. This will be my motivation to get the fuck out. Graphic Design here I come!! 

The Ergonomic Adventures of The Plumber, Part 1...by sTeeTo

I honestly thought that this Plumber ordeal couldn't get much worse. Boy, was I mistaken. Not only has it gotten worse,  it has morphed into something rather humiliating. Humiliating to the Plumber? Oh no, of course not. Remember, she still considers herself a Diva, or better yet, The Diva. The Non-Plumbers of this world would see this as a "I want to dig a hole in the ground six feet deep using nothing but my bare hands and bury myself right now" kind of deal. Why has it come to this point, you ask?  Well, if you will take my hand, I will introduce you to the Ergonomic Adventures of The Plumber. Oh and before we start, be sure you have a lumbar support for your lower back, don't forget to keep your legs bent at a ninety-degree angle, and please be sure both of your feet are flat on the floor. Okay, now we're ready for the Ergonomic Adventures of The Plumber. 

First of all, as we all know, working in any type of office environment requires one to use a rubber stamp. You may think that this action doesn't require, well, any action. Oh, but you are misinformed my fellow office clerk. Let me mention a few of the muscles involved and see if you can guess where these are located. The Longus Capitis, Infarhyoids, Suprahyoids, Splenius Capitis and the Semispinalis Capitis. Now you might think these muscles would be found in the wrist or perhaps even the arm. That would be the logical guess, seeing that we don't use our feet to stamp with or we don't put the fucking thing in our mouths and bang our heads atop our desks, unless you're into that type of thing. Okay, I'm getting side tracked. I think my lumbar support needs readjusting. Okay, that's better. I'm back on track. Do you know where the Plumber had her "on the job" injury? In her neck. So you guessed it! She has managed to get the Ergonomics Team involved and supply her with a gigantic time stamp machine that was built in 1962 because of her fucking NECK! So now, for anyone who is lucky enough to sit at her knick-knack infested desk they now have even LESS desk space due to this monstrosity. More kudos to The Plumber! Way to go! You get five stars for making an even bigger ass of yourself. So, do me a favor. The next time you use your rubber stamp think about how much you're NOT using your neck to do this or even better try to use your neck while you stamp. I'm guessing you'll have to get the creative juices flowing on this one. Why? Because we don't use our fucking necks to stamp documents!! 

"Can I have your credit card number?" by sTeeTs

For some odd reason I had this happen twice today while answering the phones. Why is it that some people like to recite their credit card number in groups of three? As you can see, the illustration to your right clearly shows the numbers to be grouped in fours. This may seem menial, but it completely fucks me up. It's as if the numbers no longer make sense to me whatsoever. It's comparable to giving someone your phone number, but pausing after the fourth number. You just DON'T do it. 

Having Diarrhea and Allergies at the Same Time by Jeeto

Every time you sneeze, you’re worried about pooping your pants. It sucks. Enough said.

"Do You Have a Rewards Card With Us?" by Jeeto.

I don't know what it is about it, but I am SICK to death of all the fucking rewards cards that every store on the face of the earth seems to have now. I'm thanking Albertsons for this.

Thank you Albertsons. 

It's like, I wouldn't mind if businesses had some kind of POS* display or employees even wore degrading buttons that said, "Ask me about our Super Cool Rewards Card!" because then it would be MY CHOICE at my CONVENIENCE  to sign up for one IF and WHEN I wanted to. But what irritates the fucking hell out of me is when I want to hurry up and make my purchase, but before the checker can even ring in my items they have to ask, "And do you have a Rewards Card with us?" Then I have to say no. Then they have to ask me if I want one. Then I have to say no AGAIN. Then they like to explain how it takes "just a second" and that I'll save "up to 10%" if I sign up for one and then I say, "NO THANK YOU." for a third time and then WHAM-- I'm a fucking Barnes and Noble outcast and the checker looks at me like, "Oh... I guess he doesn't read that much..." Not to mention that when I bought a Starbucks coffee at Barnes and Noble I was asked there too. That's twice in one store. That's probably like 20 waisted seconds of my life. Okay, well now I sound like an asshole... But I don't care. It's annoying for me, it's annoying for the poor individual waiting in line behind me. I was asked the same thing at Fred Meyer tonight too. 

So that's 3 times, two stores. One night.

I will applaud Albertsons however, for making their "Rewards Card" simple enough that you don't even have to remember to bring it with you, because all you need is a phone number. And that takes two seconds, no swipe, no stupid ass little fucking key chain that gets all dirty and ripped up and looks like shit in three weeks.

Peace for now.

Jeets

*Jeeto made me feel like a fucking moron for not knowing that POS stands for Point of Sale, so just in case someone reading this hasn't worked retail for awhile this will explain it, my fellow idiot. -sTeeTo

Crosswalk Cocktail by Jeeto.

So I know that Miss sTeeTo experiences more of this than I do considering that she lives in a much larger downtown metropolitan area, but I decided to write about something that pissed me off on the way to work the other morning.

So let’s pretend that we’re mixing a drink: You take one part Jeeto (that’s me), one part cross walk with blinking red hand and one part scrunchy-faced old hillbilly in an old rusty pickup truck. In order for this to mix properly, you must first take your Jeeto and place him inside the crosswalk just as the hand begins to blink red. Secondly, place your redneck trucker in his truck in the turning lane on the other side of the street and make sure that he’s annoyed that he has to WAIT for Jeeto to cross before he’s able to turn. If the hillbilly revs his engine and keeps driving slowly even as Jeeto approaches, you’ll get a much more accurate and annoyingly tasting drink.

You can even put a backpack on Jeeto and make him wear flip flops so that it’s awkward for him to “jog” across the walk. To garnish your drink, add a dash of hillbilly banter. Once your Jeeto has made his 7 second way across the walk, decorate him by having the hillbilly shout something incomprehensible to him out the widow.

The Crosswalk Cocktail is the perfect walk-to-work drink! Who doesn’t like someone getting pissed off at you when they have to wait SEVEN seconds for you to cross the street before they're able to turn, especially when you have the right away? This drink is fun after work too.

A Day Without Plumbing...by sTeeTo

The title for this blog might sound as if I am speaking of a day out in the woods, but no, this is not true. You see, this blog is about a female coworker of mine who will go nameless. Let's just say that the name she chooses to go by, has a plumber-like ring to it. 

Now the question is, why would I write about the absence of "The Plumber" in my fun filled work day? Well, my friends, I chose to do this because our poor little plumber called in sick today, so my coworkers and I decided that I would be her replacement. What does that mean? Well join me in my Plumber For a Day adventure, won't you?

First of all, I need to paint you a picture of this gorgeous gem. I'll start from head to toe because if I attempted to paint this picture from hip to hip it would take far too long, and frankly I don't have the time. I have heard her describe herself to defendants over the phone. 

"I'm full-figured and have short, red, fun spiky hair". 

Don't even ask me why she would be describing herself over the phone, especially to a man who just claimed to be calling her while in the shower. I'm not even kidding and  I'm also getting sidetracked. Okay, so here is my translation of her self description. 

"I'm 400 pounds and have short purple hair which I lacquer throughout the day to make it spiky and dangerous enough to poke someone's eye out, especially if English isn't your first language". 

Whoops! That last one just snuck in there, but The Plumber does enjoy using her condescending tone with people that aren't "American".  If it was up to her she would be building up borders right in our workplace to "keep em out". 

So she's the size of a house and has "funky" hair...now for her makeup. The best way I could describe it, is that of a Drag Queen. Layers upon layers of foundation, which I have noticed has not been matching her natural skin tone lately. I think she accidentally ordered too light of a shade from Avon this week. Oh well, at least she's still putting it to use. Gothic Plumbers are always good for a laugh too. I believe she uses Cher to inspire her eye shadow technique. Maybe she actually is a man? Plumber? Drag Queen? Cher? It's all starting to make sense now.

So now you have a good visual of what I'm dealing with here. Now, what does it mean to be a Plumber for a Day? It means that I think that I am a Diva and all of my co-workers pull my weight, which speaking literally is extremely tiresome. 

Being a Plumber for a Day also means that I have a one track mind. When I have a side job I'm working on, suddenly everything in my field of vision completely vanishes. Actually, the term "side job" does not exist in my vocabulary. I can be ringing mail at the front counter and a defendant will be standing in line, waiting to be helped. I won't even acknowledge their existence. If they even DARE to approach my window I will tell them to stand back in line so my coworker next to me can stop their side job to help that defendant. I will be sure to use my condescending tone with them too. 

My friends will always come first while working. If one of my friends decides to pay me a visit while at the counter I will simply turn around and talk about the new design ideas for their house, this will go on for a good ten minutes because I want to be sure we cover every minute detail in this conversation. I don't even notice when that defendant tells my coworker "it's good to see SOMEONE is working".

I notice that when I'm a Plumber for a Day that anyone with an accent is also hard of hearing. I have to yell so loud at them and must always sound belittling because this is MY country damn it. The fact that I have Portuguese blood in me does not play a factor here because as I mentioned before I am a Diva. 

 

Being a Plumber for a Day requires me to always have an assortment of family photos at my desk. Framed photos might I add. Regardless of the fact that we rotate desks, I MUST have these with me at all times. Everyone knows when I am changing desks because it takes me 5 trips to gather all of my belongings. Sometimes I will just place all of the photos on my abnormally large sweat stained office chair to save the extra trips. Luckily, when I'm at the counter I have an entire wall I can post my religious propaganda on too. This makes me feel so much better about myself because I know that if I pray to God I will automatically be sent to heaven. It's very cut and dry you know. The fact that I am the most apathetic person some may know, has nothing to do with my relationship with God. The cute little Tweety Bird illustration on my wall proves that. 

I also have my own keyboard that I must use. If anyone who switches out my keyboard does not put it back while I am on my 14th sick day of the month I am then allowed to throw a fit. By this I mean I can take the keyboard that is sitting at my desk and throw it down so it comes crashing down next to my coworker who most likely had nothing to do with who was sitting there before. This way I know that my point was made. This also shows that I have the mental capacity of a 4 year old child. If anything is out of its' place I am allowed to completely lose it. My life must be a certain way and I refuse to deal with change.

Us Divas are like that. We have these completely different views of ourselves that will play an important role in the learning process of our lives. However, we choose to ignore that process because we are so self-absorbed that there is truly not enough time to have compassion for another human being. 

So that is a day in the life of a Plumber. I could honestly write a fucking book on this, the material is truly endless and never ceases to amaze me on a daily basis. I hope you enjoyed!