Be careful or you'll end up in my novel
Welcome to the Freakshow that is sometimes my job.
First of all let me say that I fell asleep last night at 7:30 on the couch watching Battlestar Gallactica. This is what happens when you are a single geeky woman. I woke up at 5 this morning and jumped on my treadmill, listened to KT Tunstall while I got ready for work and hit the road. The commute SLUGGED along and I spent the entire time talking to my therapist.
Sidebar: My counselor looks and talks like Edna Mode, a character from the movie The Incredibles. Kinderho bought me a 2-inch version of Edna while in Disneyland and I pinned it to my visor so I always have someone to talk to. I think this goes beyond single geeky woman into some strange territory I don't care to explore today.
I hadn't even started mainlining the coffee yet when a delivery guy showed up. It's common to have several packages delivered to our office in a day by various sketchy delivery guys. The problem was, this one didn't speak English much. He wove his words in Spanish, English, and speaking in tongues I think. After several questions I determined he actually worked for our company and was sent over from the shipyard. I asked who the parts were for and he said "I fsink fer da ladeeshee sits o o o ver thr". I think. I just waved him away and said "Thanks! I'll figure it out from here!"
A few minutes after the caffeine took effect my coworker was mumbling from the corner, then yelling "Help me!" I jumped up thinking maybe she had her fingers stuck in a shredder but to my extreme amusement she was COVERED in electrostatically charged blue packing peanuts. I tried to help unstick her but ended up being chased around the office by the little packaging horrors. I had them UP my pants and in my hair by the time we were done. And it was only 9am.
The next player on my freaky stage today was a HUGE native man from Alaska. His head, I am not exaggerating, was the size of a toaster oven. He had a HUGE belt on to hold up his HUGE Weeble pants. He had gotten lost 3 times on the way to a meeting with the big cheese about gold mining in Alaska ruining the fishing waters. Or something. I had tried twice to give him directions but since I didn't understand his weebelo accent I finally passed him off to someone ELSE.
Dealing with fishermen is always, er, amusing. A guy by the name of "door" called up looking for his pay records from 1997. Apparently he was being audited and his tax accountant lost his paperwork and his brother (also by the name of "door") was the one who actually got the paycheck even though door#1 was the permit holder and he couldn't find his own paperwork so did we have that paperwork from 1997, or maybe it was 2000, no maybe it was, um, YA! it was 2002 and man oh man he is "FREAKIN'" because of the audit and could i mail it no fax it no mail it to his address that is on his paperwork from 1997/2002/2000? Ok. Cool.
Last but certainly not least was the twitcher. This poor guy gimped into the office asking for an application. He already had an application in his hand from another company in our building, as well as his resume. He was waving it around, sticking his butt out (no idea what that was about) and saying "I just need a job. Do you have a job you can give me?" He was doing this strange thing with his mouth and his face twitched horribly. He was trying to explain how he'd been unfairly "let go" from his last job but I didn't need to feel sorry for him just give him a job. I gave him an application for our salmon cannery and directed him to the shipyard to talk to someone there about work. He then hunkered down on his HANDS AND KNEES and spent a half hour filling out the WRONG application. I didn't have the heart to tell him he'd just filled out someone else's application, nor the patience to wait another half hour while he lay on the floor filling out the RIGHT application. As he handed me the wrong application he explained "I wouldn't have been let go if I'd had different management." Mmmhhhmmm...there's a reason fishermen are known for their tales...
Need I remind you that this ALL occured BEFORE lunch? I had lost my appetite. I injected more caffeine I think so I could do payroll and process the check run for the week, not to mention hiding from the peanuts that I swear were stalking me. Must be my magnetic personality. Either that or the forces that be are trying to help me with character sketches for my book...
First of all let me say that I fell asleep last night at 7:30 on the couch watching Battlestar Gallactica. This is what happens when you are a single geeky woman. I woke up at 5 this morning and jumped on my treadmill, listened to KT Tunstall while I got ready for work and hit the road. The commute SLUGGED along and I spent the entire time talking to my therapist.
Sidebar: My counselor looks and talks like Edna Mode, a character from the movie The Incredibles. Kinderho bought me a 2-inch version of Edna while in Disneyland and I pinned it to my visor so I always have someone to talk to. I think this goes beyond single geeky woman into some strange territory I don't care to explore today.
I hadn't even started mainlining the coffee yet when a delivery guy showed up. It's common to have several packages delivered to our office in a day by various sketchy delivery guys. The problem was, this one didn't speak English much. He wove his words in Spanish, English, and speaking in tongues I think. After several questions I determined he actually worked for our company and was sent over from the shipyard. I asked who the parts were for and he said "I fsink fer da ladeeshee sits o o o ver thr". I think. I just waved him away and said "Thanks! I'll figure it out from here!"
A few minutes after the caffeine took effect my coworker was mumbling from the corner, then yelling "Help me!" I jumped up thinking maybe she had her fingers stuck in a shredder but to my extreme amusement she was COVERED in electrostatically charged blue packing peanuts. I tried to help unstick her but ended up being chased around the office by the little packaging horrors. I had them UP my pants and in my hair by the time we were done. And it was only 9am.
The next player on my freaky stage today was a HUGE native man from Alaska. His head, I am not exaggerating, was the size of a toaster oven. He had a HUGE belt on to hold up his HUGE Weeble pants. He had gotten lost 3 times on the way to a meeting with the big cheese about gold mining in Alaska ruining the fishing waters. Or something. I had tried twice to give him directions but since I didn't understand his weebelo accent I finally passed him off to someone ELSE.
Dealing with fishermen is always, er, amusing. A guy by the name of "door" called up looking for his pay records from 1997. Apparently he was being audited and his tax accountant lost his paperwork and his brother (also by the name of "door") was the one who actually got the paycheck even though door#1 was the permit holder and he couldn't find his own paperwork so did we have that paperwork from 1997, or maybe it was 2000, no maybe it was, um, YA! it was 2002 and man oh man he is "FREAKIN'" because of the audit and could i mail it no fax it no mail it to his address that is on his paperwork from 1997/2002/2000? Ok. Cool.
Last but certainly not least was the twitcher. This poor guy gimped into the office asking for an application. He already had an application in his hand from another company in our building, as well as his resume. He was waving it around, sticking his butt out (no idea what that was about) and saying "I just need a job. Do you have a job you can give me?" He was doing this strange thing with his mouth and his face twitched horribly. He was trying to explain how he'd been unfairly "let go" from his last job but I didn't need to feel sorry for him just give him a job. I gave him an application for our salmon cannery and directed him to the shipyard to talk to someone there about work. He then hunkered down on his HANDS AND KNEES and spent a half hour filling out the WRONG application. I didn't have the heart to tell him he'd just filled out someone else's application, nor the patience to wait another half hour while he lay on the floor filling out the RIGHT application. As he handed me the wrong application he explained "I wouldn't have been let go if I'd had different management." Mmmhhhmmm...there's a reason fishermen are known for their tales...
Need I remind you that this ALL occured BEFORE lunch? I had lost my appetite. I injected more caffeine I think so I could do payroll and process the check run for the week, not to mention hiding from the peanuts that I swear were stalking me. Must be my magnetic personality. Either that or the forces that be are trying to help me with character sketches for my book...