Who Can Take a Nothing Day…
….and suddenly (very suddenly) make it all seem worthwhile? Why, it’s me! I must point out that I only know those lyrics because of the Joan Jett cover version. Speaking of music, “Losing My Religion” is playing on the radio. “Oh no, I’ve said too much, I haven’t said enough…”
MILDLY AMUSING ADVENTURES IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
–Every job has its problems, and training is always a pain, proven at McDonald’s today:
“I think Amanda screwed up this order.”
“Well, Casey was back there telling her the cheese goes on the bottom!”
Manager: “They actually tested this, and people said putting the cheese on the top makes it taste better. Not that I care one way or the other…”
–Everyone then weighs in with their personal opinions on cheese location, with most concluding that they don’t care, either. Or maybe they were just sucking up.
–On to Walgreen’s:
Walking by the Halloween display, had to turn back because I thought a sign said “Possible Skeleton.” No, it either is a skeleton or it isn’t, I thought. Turned out it was “Posable.”
Another sign promised “Your Ultimate Tampon Experience!” To which I can only say, Wow.
–And on to Thornton’s!
Actually, the news here is on the way from Thornton’s, because I ended up being chased by a hornet. I wanted to say, “No! MY SOFT DRINK IS SUGAR-FREE, YOU DON’T WANT IT!” And in return it would say (in a high buzzing voice), “YOU KILLED MY SISTER WHEN YOU THREW YOUR MCDONALD’S CUP IN THAT TRASH CAN, BITCH!” I flailed at it, until I remembered that only makes them angrier (kind of like police officers). So I broke into a run (in case anyone saw someone break into a run on St Joe for seemingly no reason), but then it started raining, which apparently curbed its enthusiasm.
–DEAR BUS DRIVER:
They put “Rider Alert” signs in the front of the bus (in this case, the Festival route changes) in order that one might read them. So do not irritably say, “Take a seat, please.” K. THX. BYE.
May it be generally known that Nick’s ride-along last night, in the course of impersonating him, obligated him to come in to Dispatch in the future and give me a shoulder massage, which is the most perfect example of the punishment fitting the crime that I’ve encountered in a long time. Sure, his hands may stray to my throat, but live dangerously, that’s what I always say!