I am a foodie. I love food. I love making it, I love eating it and I love trying new things (provided they aren't spicy or contain cilantro or bulgar/couscous.) That being said, this blog post is about one of the simplest things in your kitchen that I find utterly delicious.
Melted butter on toast.
Dead simple, but I like it. Why? I don't honestly know. I think toast is my comfort food and since I don't often like the jams that are in my kitchen, butter keeps me content. I don't like white bread, I really only eat whole wheat (the exception being hamburger buns and baguettes.) but even beyond that you can get breads with different things in them to change it up. Cinnamon raisin bread with butter or cheese bread suddenly make the plain and simple interesting and delicious.
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I'm leaving for a month in Germany on saturday, so updates will be almost non-existent while I'm over there. yay spring travelling!
Monday, April 25, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Woes
Some people who come to the pharmacy make me want to tear my hair out. This may seem like a common issue but let me explain what happened last night...
This woman had been speaking to our pharmacists all week about getting her meds blister packed. Not a huge concern, we just have to work it out.
Well. She was in the store for THREE HOURS. She was talking to the only pharmacist for almost the entire time. I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off doing as much work in the back as I can that didn't require a pharmacist. Then I had a gentleman come in picking up a cream that he'd never had before that had some special ingredients. I know nothing about it so I tell him he can wait if he'd like to speak to the pharmacist. He stood there for nearly ten minutes while my poor pharmacist talked to this woman. He eventually left and I apologised. Fortunately he understood.
When my pharmacist finally finally finally got this woman to agree on something, he wants her to pay. She then hands him a debit card but apparently doesn't know how to use it and doesn't remember giving it to him (30 seconds prior). So he then asks her how she wants to pay and she tells him "I don't know." Cash, cheque, another card? "No, no I want to know how much I spend I can't use those." Ohhhhkay... The woman then says she'll be back (I think she normally walks out without paying because she's afraid of admitting that she doesn't know what to do) and she certainly does come back... Ten times. Uggggggggh. I've started to work on her grid for her blister pack that ends up being cancelled half an hour before we close. I wanted to strangle her. She has no idea what she wants, she doesn't know how to pay and she claims she wants to continue administering most of her meds on her own... So the point of the blister pack was what?
Another woman called us in the middle of this asking about her prescription in the drawer to be picked up. It's a controlled narcotic which she normally gets in a different town but was with us for some strange reason this week. Well, she wants me to blister pack it for her, because she's supposed to take 9 a day (3 three times daily) but sometimes she "forgets and takes fewer." Yeah. Sure you take FEWER of your high strength narcotic than you're supposed to because "sometimes I don't need them so I don't take as many as I'm supposed to." This is fishy and I have less than an hour left at work and a counter full of baskets to be filled. So I tell her that if she's not staying with us there's no chance we will make it for her. She also was owed some pills because we didn't have enough last night. So I would not be making a blister pack for her, I would be making a comittment for the daytime staff to do something within the first half hour of opening. No freaking way am I doing that, they'd have my head on a platter! I told her it wasn't happening. She tried to pull the sympathy card, that her other drugstore does it and she has an appointment, blah blah blah. Call me insensitive, but I don't care in the slightest. The amount of work we would put in for her ONE TIME is not worth it because she'll be going back to her other drugstore as of the next day.
In other news, classes are done and I'm studying for finals. I really can't wait until they're over, because when they are, I get to leave for Germany for a month!
This woman had been speaking to our pharmacists all week about getting her meds blister packed. Not a huge concern, we just have to work it out.
Well. She was in the store for THREE HOURS. She was talking to the only pharmacist for almost the entire time. I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off doing as much work in the back as I can that didn't require a pharmacist. Then I had a gentleman come in picking up a cream that he'd never had before that had some special ingredients. I know nothing about it so I tell him he can wait if he'd like to speak to the pharmacist. He stood there for nearly ten minutes while my poor pharmacist talked to this woman. He eventually left and I apologised. Fortunately he understood.
When my pharmacist finally finally finally got this woman to agree on something, he wants her to pay. She then hands him a debit card but apparently doesn't know how to use it and doesn't remember giving it to him (30 seconds prior). So he then asks her how she wants to pay and she tells him "I don't know." Cash, cheque, another card? "No, no I want to know how much I spend I can't use those." Ohhhhkay... The woman then says she'll be back (I think she normally walks out without paying because she's afraid of admitting that she doesn't know what to do) and she certainly does come back... Ten times. Uggggggggh. I've started to work on her grid for her blister pack that ends up being cancelled half an hour before we close. I wanted to strangle her. She has no idea what she wants, she doesn't know how to pay and she claims she wants to continue administering most of her meds on her own... So the point of the blister pack was what?
Another woman called us in the middle of this asking about her prescription in the drawer to be picked up. It's a controlled narcotic which she normally gets in a different town but was with us for some strange reason this week. Well, she wants me to blister pack it for her, because she's supposed to take 9 a day (3 three times daily) but sometimes she "forgets and takes fewer." Yeah. Sure you take FEWER of your high strength narcotic than you're supposed to because "sometimes I don't need them so I don't take as many as I'm supposed to." This is fishy and I have less than an hour left at work and a counter full of baskets to be filled. So I tell her that if she's not staying with us there's no chance we will make it for her. She also was owed some pills because we didn't have enough last night. So I would not be making a blister pack for her, I would be making a comittment for the daytime staff to do something within the first half hour of opening. No freaking way am I doing that, they'd have my head on a platter! I told her it wasn't happening. She tried to pull the sympathy card, that her other drugstore does it and she has an appointment, blah blah blah. Call me insensitive, but I don't care in the slightest. The amount of work we would put in for her ONE TIME is not worth it because she'll be going back to her other drugstore as of the next day.
In other news, classes are done and I'm studying for finals. I really can't wait until they're over, because when they are, I get to leave for Germany for a month!
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Dreams are trending apparently.
Well now I'm hopping on the "dreams about work" bandwagon. Last night I was so confused and upset I'm not surprised that I woke up in a bad mood.
I'm at work starting the day by training someone on our opening procedures which now include pancakes apparently. So I'm making the pancakes on our server when I realize that we have TEN people working behind the counter to start the day. We never have ten people working in the back ever. Then the clients start arriving... There's a neverending line of them at the counter. Then, we have this weird dohickey that is apparently a dictaphone and a thermometer... All in one!
One guy wants to check his temperature but because I can't figure how the computer program it's hooked up to works, he can't. Then someone wants to record a message on the dictaphone part to my boss (who is ten feet away so I don't understand why they can't just tell him) But a computer error keeps coming up that I can't play it back on that computer, it'll only play on the "downstairs" computer (there's no basement in my pharmacy...) And to top it all off, there's a never ending line of people who need their prescriptions...
UGH, dreams suck.
I'm at work starting the day by training someone on our opening procedures which now include pancakes apparently. So I'm making the pancakes on our server when I realize that we have TEN people working behind the counter to start the day. We never have ten people working in the back ever. Then the clients start arriving... There's a neverending line of them at the counter. Then, we have this weird dohickey that is apparently a dictaphone and a thermometer... All in one!
One guy wants to check his temperature but because I can't figure how the computer program it's hooked up to works, he can't. Then someone wants to record a message on the dictaphone part to my boss (who is ten feet away so I don't understand why they can't just tell him) But a computer error keeps coming up that I can't play it back on that computer, it'll only play on the "downstairs" computer (there's no basement in my pharmacy...) And to top it all off, there's a never ending line of people who need their prescriptions...
UGH, dreams suck.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Not dead
I know it's been a while, I've been caught up with school and Stage Managing a play for the university.
I'd thought I'd come back with a story about a woman I called yesterday from the pharmacy. She *apparently* didn't have any blister packs left (even though she should have had another week left) so I had to fill 4 weeks for her (which was another story of a missing narcotic because someone hadn't cleared an owe... UGH)
Anyways.
I call her to let her know that it's done and she can send her grandson to pick it up.
Me: "Hello, could I please speak to Crazy?"
Crazy: This is her.
Me: Hi there, it's ME from the pharmacy, just wanted to let you know that your blister pack is ready to be picked up. We didn't have enough of one drug to fill all four weeks, so we've just got one week right now.
Crazy: It's ready and what?
Me: (A bit louder) We only had enough to fill for one week right now.
Crazy: WHAT? I can't hear you!
(At this point I realize that I can hear loud noises in the background, so I start yelling)
Me: You're only getting one wee-
Crazy: WHAT??
Me: ONE WEE-
Crazy: I can't hear you, the TV's on too loud, I'll figure it out when I see it dear!
Me: *facepalm*
I can imagine her anger when her grandson came home with only one week of her blister pack... Had she turned down the effing TV she would know why!
I'd thought I'd come back with a story about a woman I called yesterday from the pharmacy. She *apparently* didn't have any blister packs left (even though she should have had another week left) so I had to fill 4 weeks for her (which was another story of a missing narcotic because someone hadn't cleared an owe... UGH)
Anyways.
I call her to let her know that it's done and she can send her grandson to pick it up.
Me: "Hello, could I please speak to Crazy?"
Crazy: This is her.
Me: Hi there, it's ME from the pharmacy, just wanted to let you know that your blister pack is ready to be picked up. We didn't have enough of one drug to fill all four weeks, so we've just got one week right now.
Crazy: It's ready and what?
Me: (A bit louder) We only had enough to fill for one week right now.
Crazy: WHAT? I can't hear you!
(At this point I realize that I can hear loud noises in the background, so I start yelling)
Me: You're only getting one wee-
Crazy: WHAT??
Me: ONE WEE-
Crazy: I can't hear you, the TV's on too loud, I'll figure it out when I see it dear!
Me: *facepalm*
I can imagine her anger when her grandson came home with only one week of her blister pack... Had she turned down the effing TV she would know why!
Monday, January 31, 2011
How to Walk Down a Hallway
There are few things at a university that irk me more than slow walkers. I understand you don't have a class right now, but I do. GTFO of my way. Here's my handy little guide to travelling from place to place.
1. Don't walk so fucking slow. I don't care where you're going or how much time you have to get there, please quicken your pace to more than 20 BPM. (beats per minute) Andante, the musical term for walking speed is 76 - 108 BPM. Speed up.
2. If you are going to walk slowly talking to your friends in a crowded hallway, go two and two. not all four abreast. Why? Because I'm moving faster than you, and when you walk four abreast I can't pass you. Nor can the people going in the opposite direction even walk by you. You're retarded and everyone hates you. This is negated if you and I are the only people walking through the hallway - I will likely have enough space to go around.
3. For those of you who are walking alone somewhere (no judging, I do this a lot) through an empty hallway, don't move around so that the person trying to pass can't. Basically, don't block people. (I had someone do this to me today - he somehow managed to take up the whole hallway all by himself. It was quite a feat.)
4. DON'T CUT CORNERS. You look like an idiot when you run into me while I have the right of way. When I am turning right around a corner, I will hug the corner. When I am turning left, I make a wide turn so I don't head on collide with someone.
5. Walk on the right. I realize that in England, Australia and many Asian countries the left has right of way. Not in Canada. Walk on the right and I won't give you a pissy look. especially on stairs. Why the hell do you need to walk on the complete opposite side of the stairs anyways? I look like a bitch and I WILL run you down if you're on the wrong side.
Am I getting worked up over nothing? Maybe, but it REALLY pisses me off, and if someone is willing to give me the space to complain, I will do just that.
1. Don't walk so fucking slow. I don't care where you're going or how much time you have to get there, please quicken your pace to more than 20 BPM. (beats per minute) Andante, the musical term for walking speed is 76 - 108 BPM. Speed up.
2. If you are going to walk slowly talking to your friends in a crowded hallway, go two and two. not all four abreast. Why? Because I'm moving faster than you, and when you walk four abreast I can't pass you. Nor can the people going in the opposite direction even walk by you. You're retarded and everyone hates you. This is negated if you and I are the only people walking through the hallway - I will likely have enough space to go around.
3. For those of you who are walking alone somewhere (no judging, I do this a lot) through an empty hallway, don't move around so that the person trying to pass can't. Basically, don't block people. (I had someone do this to me today - he somehow managed to take up the whole hallway all by himself. It was quite a feat.)
4. DON'T CUT CORNERS. You look like an idiot when you run into me while I have the right of way. When I am turning right around a corner, I will hug the corner. When I am turning left, I make a wide turn so I don't head on collide with someone.
5. Walk on the right. I realize that in England, Australia and many Asian countries the left has right of way. Not in Canada. Walk on the right and I won't give you a pissy look. especially on stairs. Why the hell do you need to walk on the complete opposite side of the stairs anyways? I look like a bitch and I WILL run you down if you're on the wrong side.
Am I getting worked up over nothing? Maybe, but it REALLY pisses me off, and if someone is willing to give me the space to complain, I will do just that.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Do your job... Or I'll do it for you.
I understand that waiters and waitresses have difficult jobs. I consider myself lucky not to work in food service and have a really good job elsewhere. Usually I can sympathize. However, last night there was no reason in the world that our waitress should have acted like she did.
Here's the story.
It was Charming's brother's birthday last night, he turned 18 and can legally drink in Alberta. To celebrate, he and a bunch of friends went to Schanks, a sports bar. I offered to DD him and Charming and a couple other friends. No problems, I was fine not drinking. I have to make an extra trip, so I wasn't there when they first arrived at the bar, so the first part of this story is secondhand from Charming. In this bar, you seat yourself. They were a large group, so trying to find a big non-reserved table wasn't easy. They flagged down a waitress to ask if they would be able to sit at a table that had a sign saying "Reserved at 7:30" (by this time it was 9, almost 10) No one was sitting there, but you can't be too careful. The waitress they asked said it would be fine. So they sit down and wait. Eventually another waitress comes up and doesn't greet them kindly, doesn't ask politely, instead yells "Who said you could sit here!" What a fantastic start, because now everyone's going to really want to stay. Anyways, Charming explains what happened, and her response was that she would have to check with a manager if they could sit there. So they wait some more. Being mostly 18 year old boys, they got thirsty and went to the bar for drinks, and paid at the bar. Not usually a problem... unless your waitress is Miss Psycho. She came back and saw they had drinks and screamed at them again and insisted that everything else had to go through her. Well fine, but you have to be around to be ordered from to justify your hissy fits. Anyways, they agree, and Charming pays for the first round and some food.
At this point I arrive and I'm thirsty as well as a little hungry, but i didn't particularily want what had been ordered, I just wanted honey garlic wings. So I waited nearly fifteen minutes after arriving to order a Sprite and chicken wings. I can understand that it was a Saturday night and it was busy. But even Charming could see who our waitress was, and we weren't exactly hidden in a corner, we were with quite a few other tables that I would think would be part of her section. Anyways, she finally comes over and we tell her some more people have arrived and we'd like to order more. She kind of huffs and says that Charming has to pay her right away (which is fine, he doesn't really care.) Eventually we get everything and Charming then tells me that he's been trying to tip her really well the whole night in the hopes that good tips will encourage her to come back. It took a little while, but she eventually warmed up to us. Some guys wanted more to drink that she was coming around to take orders for, so they ended up parking at the bar for a little while. I waited until I saw her punching in an order and just walked up and said "When you have a minute, I'd like to put an order in." She told me that I could wait right there and she'd take it in a minute. Eventually we saw her more and more. As the night was winding down, she came by and asked if anyone wanted more food. She was standing by the girls who were airheadly chatting to her, while the guys decided that they wanted food. Unfortunately, these girls had already sent her away because THEY didn't want food. Ugh. My Bro then decided he wanted food, so I pointed out our waitress to him, but he somehow manages to flag down someone who isn't a waitress, she just runs the games... and our waitress came up and made a bit of a scene. Why? Who the hell knows! I'd already chastised my Bro for calling hte wrong girl in front of her, so I really didn't see the need to do that. Anyways, we probably left a couple hundred dollars that night, consistiently tipping 20% and often more as encouragement for her to come back.
I can see a couple reasons why she might have avoided our table a little. One, a bunch of 18 year old boys who likely aren't going to tip well and will just get really drunk. However, Charming is 20, I'm 19 and I was sober and could have handled anything. Charming, even when drunk is still pretty sober. So she didn't have to worry if we were taking care of the money. Two, she was really freaking busy. This one only flies if we had seen her running around, which we hadn't at all. Three, she was about to get evicted, her boyfriend cheated on her and her parents just told her she was adopted. I can understand if you're having a bad day. I've had days where I have absolutely no desire to go to work, let alone smile when I'm there. But I do it anyways because that's good customer service. Whatever her reasons, I'm sure she walked away with some healthy coin in her pocket from us, even after having to share it around the staff.
Here's the story.
It was Charming's brother's birthday last night, he turned 18 and can legally drink in Alberta. To celebrate, he and a bunch of friends went to Schanks, a sports bar. I offered to DD him and Charming and a couple other friends. No problems, I was fine not drinking. I have to make an extra trip, so I wasn't there when they first arrived at the bar, so the first part of this story is secondhand from Charming. In this bar, you seat yourself. They were a large group, so trying to find a big non-reserved table wasn't easy. They flagged down a waitress to ask if they would be able to sit at a table that had a sign saying "Reserved at 7:30" (by this time it was 9, almost 10) No one was sitting there, but you can't be too careful. The waitress they asked said it would be fine. So they sit down and wait. Eventually another waitress comes up and doesn't greet them kindly, doesn't ask politely, instead yells "Who said you could sit here!" What a fantastic start, because now everyone's going to really want to stay. Anyways, Charming explains what happened, and her response was that she would have to check with a manager if they could sit there. So they wait some more. Being mostly 18 year old boys, they got thirsty and went to the bar for drinks, and paid at the bar. Not usually a problem... unless your waitress is Miss Psycho. She came back and saw they had drinks and screamed at them again and insisted that everything else had to go through her. Well fine, but you have to be around to be ordered from to justify your hissy fits. Anyways, they agree, and Charming pays for the first round and some food.
At this point I arrive and I'm thirsty as well as a little hungry, but i didn't particularily want what had been ordered, I just wanted honey garlic wings. So I waited nearly fifteen minutes after arriving to order a Sprite and chicken wings. I can understand that it was a Saturday night and it was busy. But even Charming could see who our waitress was, and we weren't exactly hidden in a corner, we were with quite a few other tables that I would think would be part of her section. Anyways, she finally comes over and we tell her some more people have arrived and we'd like to order more. She kind of huffs and says that Charming has to pay her right away (which is fine, he doesn't really care.) Eventually we get everything and Charming then tells me that he's been trying to tip her really well the whole night in the hopes that good tips will encourage her to come back. It took a little while, but she eventually warmed up to us. Some guys wanted more to drink that she was coming around to take orders for, so they ended up parking at the bar for a little while. I waited until I saw her punching in an order and just walked up and said "When you have a minute, I'd like to put an order in." She told me that I could wait right there and she'd take it in a minute. Eventually we saw her more and more. As the night was winding down, she came by and asked if anyone wanted more food. She was standing by the girls who were airheadly chatting to her, while the guys decided that they wanted food. Unfortunately, these girls had already sent her away because THEY didn't want food. Ugh. My Bro then decided he wanted food, so I pointed out our waitress to him, but he somehow manages to flag down someone who isn't a waitress, she just runs the games... and our waitress came up and made a bit of a scene. Why? Who the hell knows! I'd already chastised my Bro for calling hte wrong girl in front of her, so I really didn't see the need to do that. Anyways, we probably left a couple hundred dollars that night, consistiently tipping 20% and often more as encouragement for her to come back.
I can see a couple reasons why she might have avoided our table a little. One, a bunch of 18 year old boys who likely aren't going to tip well and will just get really drunk. However, Charming is 20, I'm 19 and I was sober and could have handled anything. Charming, even when drunk is still pretty sober. So she didn't have to worry if we were taking care of the money. Two, she was really freaking busy. This one only flies if we had seen her running around, which we hadn't at all. Three, she was about to get evicted, her boyfriend cheated on her and her parents just told her she was adopted. I can understand if you're having a bad day. I've had days where I have absolutely no desire to go to work, let alone smile when I'm there. But I do it anyways because that's good customer service. Whatever her reasons, I'm sure she walked away with some healthy coin in her pocket from us, even after having to share it around the staff.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard Lombardi!
I am so happy at this moment. Why? Because my glorious team is going to the Super Bowl!! Yes ladies, but mostly gentlemen, I am a die hard Packers fan. (My boyfriend can attest...) When I visited Wisconsin a few years ago, I made my dad stop and buy me a Brett Favre jersey, which is a size L and practically a dress on me. It, in addition to my Packers belt buckle (which my bro' gave to me.) are my favourite things to wear during football season. What makes this even better is that my dad is a Chicago Bears fan. You read that right. My father is a Bears fan, as are my older brother and my little sister, and I, the proud rebel, am a Packers fan. I'm not usually allowed to watch games with my dad when we play each other. I was lucky that today was such a big game.
Speaking of the game, I'll give my little highlights.
Opening drive: Hell yea, Pack score. Rodgers, as usual, passes like a champ, Sparks on the ground can't be stopped, and Aaron has feet faster than office workers on Friday.
The Field: I make endless comments on how crappy Soldier Field is. I mean really, it's shit. When Urlacher "supposedly" slipped on a tackle, I turned to my dad and said "wanna know why he slipped?" Dad just rolled his eyes. (I say supposedly because Aikman said he slipped, but on replay he clearly hadn't - it was just a fantastic deke!)
Bears D: What the hell happened? There is NO WAY we should have been able to walk all over them like that...
QBs: Oh Cutler... You spend more time on the ground than above it. Apparently he injured his knee early, which is why he didn't play the second half. Lord only knows why the Bears wanted Collins as their 2nd string - he was terrible!! Heinie (sp?) was the only Bears QB who did anything all game. And because he was inactive as the 3rd stringer, neither Cutler or Collins could have come back into the game.
All in all, it was a good game. Not too close to be a nail biter, but not so far that I got bored. my dad's even agreed to take me to the bar for the Bowl, and commented that he'd wear my Favre jersey. I told him the only way he was wearing this jersey was if he bought me an Aaron Rodgers. Which I really really want, but don't have the money for.
Also, for those of you that don't know or didn't get it, the Super Bowl trophy is called the Vince Lombardi trophy. Lombardi was a Packer coach in the 1960s - he was so good that they named the Super Bowl trophy after him. Not bad eh?
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In other news, I've been reading a blog, Hooters According to Sauce. She's an employee of a Hooters in Montana, and I think it's pretty cool! I applaud women who feel confident enough in themselves to wear those shorts and tank tops and deal with creepers all day. I personally don't have that confidence - it's slowly building, but I'm not there yet. I also realized that I've never been to a Hooters, probably because my mom was a bit of a feminist. She always insisted that I pay for at least half the date, don't let a man control me, etc. I took a lot of those values she had, but I am a rebel. I would like to go to Hooters sometime (boyfriend, do not read that as an acceptable V-Day dinner) just to get the experience. I'm also bisexual, which means I do like to appreciate girls with my boys. (For all those against homosexuality and such, I'm sorry. It's just who I am, and if you don't like it, you are more than welcome to stop reading. Please no nasty comments.) I went to Virgin Music Festival with my ex one year (we were exes at the time, but we're still on good terms.) and we spent half the day girl watching. Of course, I wouldn't do anything callous at Hooters. I understand that the girls working there are doing just that - working. I very easily could have ended up in a similar situation as them, I'm just lucky that my tech program fell into my lap. (That's a story for another post.) Still, eventually I would like to go there. Part of me would even like to visit Sauce's Hooters, just for fun. Not for stalking. I'm not creepy. I think...
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Work was one of those days that you just get completely run off your feet and you just want to drop dead when you get home. I live really close, so I'm usually able to take a half hour to go home and each lunch, but not yesterday. My PM was working with me, and he's a really nice guy, although he kind of hates Saturdays too. it seemed like everyone who rented anything in the last couple weeks decided they needed to return it. It's a bit of a hassle, but we provide a service that many people greatly appreciate.
One return in particular stands out to me. Not that it was a strange request or anything, but the cashier (who has worked at the store for at least 6 months, and knows how to do this) just had no flipping clue what was going on. And she was fucking training someone!! The way rentals work at my store are that you pay a deposit (because otherwise how do we know you'll bring it back?) then when you return it, we take the rental fee out of the deposit, and refund you the rest of the deposit. Fairly simple, right? I don't know what was up with Old Skinny Chick (new nickname) but she kept trying to charge him the deposit, then refund the charge. I had half a mind to walk behind the counter and do it for her because I've seen it so many damn times. Finally she gets it right, he leaves we move on. Until about 20 minutes later when she comes back and shows me the receipt, saying "We refunded a guy on a rental made in March??" Whoa whoa whoa. I KNOW it wasn't March, it was November. What had appeared on the receipt was the original date of rental and the cashier who was signed in: MAR 11/28/2010. What part of that looks like it was March? Yes MAR, but she's worked here long enough to know that our system prints numerical dates. Here she is, about to get me in trouble in front of my PM when I call her out on her utter stupidity. Normally I really like OSC, but I was MAD. I can do my job, she's the one not able to do hers.
I also watched Mr and Mrs Smith last night. It was awesome. And I played Peter Frampton's "Do You Feel Like We Do?" on Guitar Hero and nearly cried I was so happy.
Speaking of the game, I'll give my little highlights.
Opening drive: Hell yea, Pack score. Rodgers, as usual, passes like a champ, Sparks on the ground can't be stopped, and Aaron has feet faster than office workers on Friday.
The Field: I make endless comments on how crappy Soldier Field is. I mean really, it's shit. When Urlacher "supposedly" slipped on a tackle, I turned to my dad and said "wanna know why he slipped?" Dad just rolled his eyes. (I say supposedly because Aikman said he slipped, but on replay he clearly hadn't - it was just a fantastic deke!)
Bears D: What the hell happened? There is NO WAY we should have been able to walk all over them like that...
QBs: Oh Cutler... You spend more time on the ground than above it. Apparently he injured his knee early, which is why he didn't play the second half. Lord only knows why the Bears wanted Collins as their 2nd string - he was terrible!! Heinie (sp?) was the only Bears QB who did anything all game. And because he was inactive as the 3rd stringer, neither Cutler or Collins could have come back into the game.
All in all, it was a good game. Not too close to be a nail biter, but not so far that I got bored. my dad's even agreed to take me to the bar for the Bowl, and commented that he'd wear my Favre jersey. I told him the only way he was wearing this jersey was if he bought me an Aaron Rodgers. Which I really really want, but don't have the money for.
Also, for those of you that don't know or didn't get it, the Super Bowl trophy is called the Vince Lombardi trophy. Lombardi was a Packer coach in the 1960s - he was so good that they named the Super Bowl trophy after him. Not bad eh?
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In other news, I've been reading a blog, Hooters According to Sauce. She's an employee of a Hooters in Montana, and I think it's pretty cool! I applaud women who feel confident enough in themselves to wear those shorts and tank tops and deal with creepers all day. I personally don't have that confidence - it's slowly building, but I'm not there yet. I also realized that I've never been to a Hooters, probably because my mom was a bit of a feminist. She always insisted that I pay for at least half the date, don't let a man control me, etc. I took a lot of those values she had, but I am a rebel. I would like to go to Hooters sometime (boyfriend, do not read that as an acceptable V-Day dinner) just to get the experience. I'm also bisexual, which means I do like to appreciate girls with my boys. (For all those against homosexuality and such, I'm sorry. It's just who I am, and if you don't like it, you are more than welcome to stop reading. Please no nasty comments.) I went to Virgin Music Festival with my ex one year (we were exes at the time, but we're still on good terms.) and we spent half the day girl watching. Of course, I wouldn't do anything callous at Hooters. I understand that the girls working there are doing just that - working. I very easily could have ended up in a similar situation as them, I'm just lucky that my tech program fell into my lap. (That's a story for another post.) Still, eventually I would like to go there. Part of me would even like to visit Sauce's Hooters, just for fun. Not for stalking. I'm not creepy. I think...
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Work was one of those days that you just get completely run off your feet and you just want to drop dead when you get home. I live really close, so I'm usually able to take a half hour to go home and each lunch, but not yesterday. My PM was working with me, and he's a really nice guy, although he kind of hates Saturdays too. it seemed like everyone who rented anything in the last couple weeks decided they needed to return it. It's a bit of a hassle, but we provide a service that many people greatly appreciate.
One return in particular stands out to me. Not that it was a strange request or anything, but the cashier (who has worked at the store for at least 6 months, and knows how to do this) just had no flipping clue what was going on. And she was fucking training someone!! The way rentals work at my store are that you pay a deposit (because otherwise how do we know you'll bring it back?) then when you return it, we take the rental fee out of the deposit, and refund you the rest of the deposit. Fairly simple, right? I don't know what was up with Old Skinny Chick (new nickname) but she kept trying to charge him the deposit, then refund the charge. I had half a mind to walk behind the counter and do it for her because I've seen it so many damn times. Finally she gets it right, he leaves we move on. Until about 20 minutes later when she comes back and shows me the receipt, saying "We refunded a guy on a rental made in March??" Whoa whoa whoa. I KNOW it wasn't March, it was November. What had appeared on the receipt was the original date of rental and the cashier who was signed in: MAR 11/28/2010. What part of that looks like it was March? Yes MAR, but she's worked here long enough to know that our system prints numerical dates. Here she is, about to get me in trouble in front of my PM when I call her out on her utter stupidity. Normally I really like OSC, but I was MAD. I can do my job, she's the one not able to do hers.
I also watched Mr and Mrs Smith last night. It was awesome. And I played Peter Frampton's "Do You Feel Like We Do?" on Guitar Hero and nearly cried I was so happy.
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