(no subject)
Bah. If I'm going to be so neurotically fixated on the subject of jobs and job-finding, at least I should get some entertainment out of my fixation.
Anna's Aimless Inquiries, Round Sixty-Bajillion:
- What was the first job you ever had?
- What's something amusing that happened recently at work? (Alternatively, if you are unemployed, or if your current place of employment is mind-bogglingly unamusing, tell a funny story that happened once at some place of employment.)
- If you suddenly had to seek a job that was completely different from your current occupation, what would it be? (Forgetting for the moment that the economy is awful right now and that it's a frightening time to try to find a new job.)
1) My first job-job was working in a coffee shop, a couple of summers ago. It was very boring after a while and I was paid quite poorly up until the last month, but it afforded some interesting people-watching opportunities. The first task I ever remember getting paid for was sticking labels on hundreds of cassette tapes of a concert my father had recorded. I think he might have paid me $5... oh Dad, such shameless child exploitation.
(I think I would have done it for free, though. I liked sticking things on things. Bits of tape ---> my hair, star stickers ---> worksheets, chewing gum ---> my little brother and whatnot.)
2) I'll tell a story from the coffee shop where I worked, which a bunch of real-life friends on this flist have probably heard already, but oh well. It was a place which made a particular effort to be kid-friendly: it had a space for kids to play, hosted regular events for parents, and had a selection of four absurdly named, extremely nutritionally dubious drinks intended for children. These were called, variously, the Hola Kitty (a coffee-free version of the Mexican Chocolate frappé), a Slippery Sam (something minty?), a Honey Bunny Boo (can't for the life of me remember the flavor, but I remember it took me WEEKS on the job before I acquired a level of ennui sufficient to say the name with a straight face), and --most popular of all -- the Princess Potion. We had a huge picture of the latter drink on the big menu behind the counter. It was bright pink with whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, and those pink and white icing-covered animal crackers. Very often little girls would come in and point to the picture and say "I want THAT". Which of course was exactly what was intended, and a very slick piece of marketing it was too. (Never mind that the actual drink was disgusting. They didn't care, it was PINK, dammit.) A couple of times a little boy would ask for it. I would always give him extra sprinkles and animal cookies -- either for having the guts/innocence to defy gender stereotypes, or for some much-needed good luck, I wasn't sure which.
My friend Stephan was heartily amused by this drink, and we joked about him one day coming in and sidling furtively up to the counter. I would fix him with my gimlet eye, and ask in steely tones "The regular?" He would nod, keeping his chin in his collar. I would ring him up, turn to the cold-drinks station behind me, and -- loud enough to make everyone in the place jump -- yell "ONE PRINCESS POTION FOR THE PRINCESS AT THE COUNTER."
But once, one of the macho, tan-skinned, muscle-bound, sweaty-haired guys who constitute a sizable chunk of this place's regular customers came in and stood gazing for a while at the picture of the Princess Potion. After a few minutes of contemplation while I stood patiently behind the register waiting to take his order, he asked me, "What's that?"
"The pink one?"
"Yeah."
"That's the Princess Potion."
"..... One of those."
"Okay." I rang him up, and snuck him a look. "You want extra sprinkles?"
"... Does that cost extra?"
"Nope." Not for you, dude. Not for you.
"Okay then."
We were supposed to deliver the drinks as they do at Starbucks, by loudly calling out the name of both person and drink from a separate section of the counter, so they know to come and pick it up. I brought it over, but did not get a chance to yell out 'One Princess Potion for Carlos!' (or whatever his name was, I don't remember) because he was waiting right there to pick it up. He seemed very pleased by the extra toppings.
In fact, he came back and ordered the same drink on a couple of other occasions. By name.
God bless the macho man who can walk up to a counter and order a Princess Potion, extra sprinkles and raspberry flavor, without apparently feeling it to be any reflection on his masculinity. Long may he slurp.
3) Hahahaha. *cries*
Anna's Aimless Inquiries, Round Sixty-Bajillion:
- What was the first job you ever had?
- What's something amusing that happened recently at work? (Alternatively, if you are unemployed, or if your current place of employment is mind-bogglingly unamusing, tell a funny story that happened once at some place of employment.)
- If you suddenly had to seek a job that was completely different from your current occupation, what would it be? (Forgetting for the moment that the economy is awful right now and that it's a frightening time to try to find a new job.)
1) My first job-job was working in a coffee shop, a couple of summers ago. It was very boring after a while and I was paid quite poorly up until the last month, but it afforded some interesting people-watching opportunities. The first task I ever remember getting paid for was sticking labels on hundreds of cassette tapes of a concert my father had recorded. I think he might have paid me $5... oh Dad, such shameless child exploitation.
(I think I would have done it for free, though. I liked sticking things on things. Bits of tape ---> my hair, star stickers ---> worksheets, chewing gum ---> my little brother and whatnot.)
2) I'll tell a story from the coffee shop where I worked, which a bunch of real-life friends on this flist have probably heard already, but oh well. It was a place which made a particular effort to be kid-friendly: it had a space for kids to play, hosted regular events for parents, and had a selection of four absurdly named, extremely nutritionally dubious drinks intended for children. These were called, variously, the Hola Kitty (a coffee-free version of the Mexican Chocolate frappé), a Slippery Sam (something minty?), a Honey Bunny Boo (can't for the life of me remember the flavor, but I remember it took me WEEKS on the job before I acquired a level of ennui sufficient to say the name with a straight face), and --most popular of all -- the Princess Potion. We had a huge picture of the latter drink on the big menu behind the counter. It was bright pink with whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, and those pink and white icing-covered animal crackers. Very often little girls would come in and point to the picture and say "I want THAT". Which of course was exactly what was intended, and a very slick piece of marketing it was too. (Never mind that the actual drink was disgusting. They didn't care, it was PINK, dammit.) A couple of times a little boy would ask for it. I would always give him extra sprinkles and animal cookies -- either for having the guts/innocence to defy gender stereotypes, or for some much-needed good luck, I wasn't sure which.
My friend Stephan was heartily amused by this drink, and we joked about him one day coming in and sidling furtively up to the counter. I would fix him with my gimlet eye, and ask in steely tones "The regular?" He would nod, keeping his chin in his collar. I would ring him up, turn to the cold-drinks station behind me, and -- loud enough to make everyone in the place jump -- yell "ONE PRINCESS POTION FOR THE PRINCESS AT THE COUNTER."
But once, one of the macho, tan-skinned, muscle-bound, sweaty-haired guys who constitute a sizable chunk of this place's regular customers came in and stood gazing for a while at the picture of the Princess Potion. After a few minutes of contemplation while I stood patiently behind the register waiting to take his order, he asked me, "What's that?"
"The pink one?"
"Yeah."
"That's the Princess Potion."
"..... One of those."
"Okay." I rang him up, and snuck him a look. "You want extra sprinkles?"
"... Does that cost extra?"
"Nope." Not for you, dude. Not for you.
"Okay then."
We were supposed to deliver the drinks as they do at Starbucks, by loudly calling out the name of both person and drink from a separate section of the counter, so they know to come and pick it up. I brought it over, but did not get a chance to yell out 'One Princess Potion for Carlos!' (or whatever his name was, I don't remember) because he was waiting right there to pick it up. He seemed very pleased by the extra toppings.
In fact, he came back and ordered the same drink on a couple of other occasions. By name.
God bless the macho man who can walk up to a counter and order a Princess Potion, extra sprinkles and raspberry flavor, without apparently feeling it to be any reflection on his masculinity. Long may he slurp.
3) Hahahaha. *cries*