It Happens
Well, in keeping with my little theme from last time, I guess shit does flow upstream.
I was on my way to Trader Joes this morning to get some maple pecan granola, Bay Blend coffee and Dubliner Irish cheese. (You East Coast people who don't know what Trader Joes is - I feel sorry for you.)
Anyway, I got an unexpected phone call. My old job wants me back. Another 18 month contract, slaving away for the FCC, evaluating the telephone company's customer service reps. It's a shit job, really. But it pays well and I like some of the people there. I think I'll take it. It's not like I'm doing anything else right now. (Unless you count my morning jaunt to Trader Joes) And God knows I desperately needs the money. Maybe that's why he saw himself clear to make this happen for me. So...I am thankful. Now maybe I can go to the U2 concert in September.
Besides, who knows. I doesn't start for another 2 weeks. Maybe I will find another - even better - position before then. At least I know I have this in my back pocket until then. But check this out - about a half hour after I was offered the job, they called me back.
"When is the last time you worked for us?"
"Uh...just a little under a year ago."
"Are you sure you are not working for us now?"
"Trust me."
"Well, someone with your name and social are currently employed by us as of this past June."
"Well, that's pretty scary, because it's not me."
"Okay, well let us check it out and we will get back to you. Don't sweat it."
Well I don't think this really changes anything. I mean, as long as they can catch and remove the asshole that stole my identity. Before the 15th. I won't sweat it. I was able to walk back home from Trader Joes with a smile on my face and my bag of cheese and granola, knowing everything was as it should be in the world. Plus I have a 2 week advance vacation to boot. So I can just screw around for the next 14 days at the expense of my new, hot girlfriend. Thanks baby. You're the greatest.
SEE NICOLE! AND YOU SAID I'D NEVER AMOUNT TO MUCH!
The icing on the cake was particularly sweet. On my walk back, I passed the Starb**** closest to my house. (I say the 'closest' because isn't there like one on every frigging corner?!) So, on the corner where this particular disestablishment is, there were two huge city trucks parked. Water waste management. The manholes in the street were pried up and they had giant hoses and such running into the two sewage mains in front of the Starb****. It was a brilliant moment. Wafting through the air, not the sweet scent of mocha or coffee, or even fresh toasted scones. No. What was that in the air? Aaahhh. The potent smell of raw sewage. Permeating the entire block - and I am sure - the lush interior of the Starb**** as well. Don't think I'll be wanting a Mint Shit Frappuccino anytime soon. Hopefully no one else will either.
And just because I feel like I am on a roll this beautiful Monday, I am going to reprint something that I personally find hilarious. It's from the Starbucks Gossip website: http://starbucksgossip.typepad.com/
And it's a plea to have one "bad barista" (A tough guy that doesn't put up with the same shit day in and day out that most Starb**** baristas - soulless as they might be - have to put up with.) per store. For balance. Sort of like the coffee bouncer. Enjoy.
1. Customers who talk on cell phones while ordering their drinks. (Bad Barista: "Turn that damn thing off before I dip it in a venti Frap!")
2. People who take a newspaper off the for-sale rack, read it, then return it and expect that someone's going to pay for that used copy. (Bad Barista: "Hey cheapskate: You have five bucks for a coffee drink and can't fork over fifty-cents for a newspaper? Gimme a break!")
3. "Guests" who order drinks that contain more than eight words. (Bad Barista: "You're not impressing anyone with your fancy-ass drink! It's a short drip coffee for you!")
4. People who order water and don't want to pay for it. No wonder prices are going up; we're subsidizing those freebies. (Bad Barista: "See that dog bowl outside? The water in there is fresh.")
5. Regular meetings of Old Codger's Clubs, where old guys basically talk, cough and blow their noses for hours on end. (Bad Barista: "Ever hear of Denny's? They were made for people like you! Now make a bee-line over there.")
I was on my way to Trader Joes this morning to get some maple pecan granola, Bay Blend coffee and Dubliner Irish cheese. (You East Coast people who don't know what Trader Joes is - I feel sorry for you.)
Anyway, I got an unexpected phone call. My old job wants me back. Another 18 month contract, slaving away for the FCC, evaluating the telephone company's customer service reps. It's a shit job, really. But it pays well and I like some of the people there. I think I'll take it. It's not like I'm doing anything else right now. (Unless you count my morning jaunt to Trader Joes) And God knows I desperately needs the money. Maybe that's why he saw himself clear to make this happen for me. So...I am thankful. Now maybe I can go to the U2 concert in September.
Besides, who knows. I doesn't start for another 2 weeks. Maybe I will find another - even better - position before then. At least I know I have this in my back pocket until then. But check this out - about a half hour after I was offered the job, they called me back.
"When is the last time you worked for us?"
"Uh...just a little under a year ago."
"Are you sure you are not working for us now?"
"Trust me."
"Well, someone with your name and social are currently employed by us as of this past June."
"Well, that's pretty scary, because it's not me."
"Okay, well let us check it out and we will get back to you. Don't sweat it."
Well I don't think this really changes anything. I mean, as long as they can catch and remove the asshole that stole my identity. Before the 15th. I won't sweat it. I was able to walk back home from Trader Joes with a smile on my face and my bag of cheese and granola, knowing everything was as it should be in the world. Plus I have a 2 week advance vacation to boot. So I can just screw around for the next 14 days at the expense of my new, hot girlfriend. Thanks baby. You're the greatest.
SEE NICOLE! AND YOU SAID I'D NEVER AMOUNT TO MUCH!
The icing on the cake was particularly sweet. On my walk back, I passed the Starb**** closest to my house. (I say the 'closest' because isn't there like one on every frigging corner?!) So, on the corner where this particular disestablishment is, there were two huge city trucks parked. Water waste management. The manholes in the street were pried up and they had giant hoses and such running into the two sewage mains in front of the Starb****. It was a brilliant moment. Wafting through the air, not the sweet scent of mocha or coffee, or even fresh toasted scones. No. What was that in the air? Aaahhh. The potent smell of raw sewage. Permeating the entire block - and I am sure - the lush interior of the Starb**** as well. Don't think I'll be wanting a Mint Shit Frappuccino anytime soon. Hopefully no one else will either.
And just because I feel like I am on a roll this beautiful Monday, I am going to reprint something that I personally find hilarious. It's from the Starbucks Gossip website: http://starbucksgossip.typepad.com/
And it's a plea to have one "bad barista" (A tough guy that doesn't put up with the same shit day in and day out that most Starb**** baristas - soulless as they might be - have to put up with.) per store. For balance. Sort of like the coffee bouncer. Enjoy.
1. Customers who talk on cell phones while ordering their drinks. (Bad Barista: "Turn that damn thing off before I dip it in a venti Frap!")
2. People who take a newspaper off the for-sale rack, read it, then return it and expect that someone's going to pay for that used copy. (Bad Barista: "Hey cheapskate: You have five bucks for a coffee drink and can't fork over fifty-cents for a newspaper? Gimme a break!")
3. "Guests" who order drinks that contain more than eight words. (Bad Barista: "You're not impressing anyone with your fancy-ass drink! It's a short drip coffee for you!")
4. People who order water and don't want to pay for it. No wonder prices are going up; we're subsidizing those freebies. (Bad Barista: "See that dog bowl outside? The water in there is fresh.")
5. Regular meetings of Old Codger's Clubs, where old guys basically talk, cough and blow their noses for hours on end. (Bad Barista: "Ever hear of Denny's? They were made for people like you! Now make a bee-line over there.")
posted by The Passenger at 3:17 PM
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