What is this world coming to??? Our grammar is so incredibly horrendous that the electronic machines in our society say “oh” instead of “zero” when referring to numbers. THIS IS LUDICROUS!
During slow periods at the photo studio I call customers whose kids’ birthdays are coming up, customers whose club memberships are expiring soon, etc. I reach more answering machines and voicemail boxes than I do live people. Many people don’t have messages saying things like, “You’ve reached the ________ residence, we’re not home right now. Please leave a message after the beep”. Instead, they rely on grammatically incorrect electronic voices to say things like, “You’ve reached three-OH-one-blah-blah-OH-blah” (which should be three-ZERO-one-blah-blah-ZERO-blah). It drives me crazy!!!
Human beings putting letters where a numbers ought to be has been painful enough for me to bear... but now our supposedly infallible machines can’t get it straight? Again, what is this world coming to??? Where are the geniuses behind the technological movement of this century? I’d like to give them a piece of my mind, and my shoe for that matter.
We’ve all heard of “Murphy’s Law” right? Right. Who’s Murphy? I haven’t the foggiest. That’s not the point anyway. Rather, Murphy’s Law is the whole deal behind the toast always landing butter side down when it falls (actually, that’s a matter of gravity and physics, but Murphy gets a lot of credit for it).
The windshield wiper fluid will always hit empty in the middle of a rainstorm while you’re behind a semi-truck.
The car’s air-conditioning will quit working on the hottest day of the month while there are passengers in the car.
The cooks will get every order perfect until it belongs to the table with a particularly hungry pregnant woman at it.
My favorite photography subjects are pregnant women. They glow and have a natural beauty about them that no makeup or fashion style can replicate. I even enjoy having pregnant women at my tables while waitressing... I just detest the notorious Mr. Murphy and his hired help (*cough* THE COOKS *cough*).
A month or so ago I had the most adorable little girl at one of my tables with her family. Her name was Madison. Her family seemed pretty cool so I asked, “Madison, how old are you?” She said matter-of-factly, “I’m four years old. And when I’m five, I’m gettin’ a job!”
I melted right there. Isn’t that just so cute?!?! It is moments like this that keep me coming back to the restaurant. Waitressing is practically slave labor and often very miserable. It’s so bad, I love it. I love it so much, I hate it. Waitressing should be a right of passage, something everyone should try for a couple months at least. Until you do, these last few sentences won’t make a lot of sense.
Speaking of waitressing, I’ve been meaning to share a small list of cool tips I’ve received from the children of some of my customers (not advise tips, but STUFF left with the bill).
-Right before Saint Patrick’s Day I was given some Mardi Gras beads shaped like shamrocks.
-I’ve received multiple hugs from children. [Cue]: “Sigh”
-A shiny aquarium rock.
-A young girl about 8 years old, left me a coin from England, and a 1000-whatever bill from Indonesia. On her way out she tapped my arm and said, “If you ever go to Indonesia, that might get you a cab ride”.
-A little red toy car.
Speaking of tips...
If I had a tip (advise) for any manager out there, it would be this: Don’t throw your employees’ personal belongings in the dumpster.
I speak from recent experience.
No, this is not a joke.
At the restaurant we have an employee room of sorts. It’s more of a really messy closet with an ironing board in it that doubles as a place to cram random crap that has no other home.
On Monday I stashed my purse in the employee room, as usual. I put it in a grocery bag with the t-shirt I changed out of so that it wouldn’t be just a purse sitting out. No big deal, I do it all the time. A few hours into the shift, my manager said to me, “Hey Joanna, go and check out the employee room and tell me what you think”. He cleaned it. Great! Wonderful! But... I couldn’t find my purse.
Of course he was playing a joke on me. Why else would he want ME to go approve the newly tidy area?
Well, there was no joke. Apparently my opinion is important.... and my purse was somewhere in the DUMPSTER along with my t-shirt.
How that happened, we are not quite sure... but he went out with a flashlight and dug for it. Now that’s a good man. He felt so bad. Thankfully he found my purse, but the t-shirt is history. He bought me dinner to make up for the shirt. No biggie. The whole situation was more entertaining for everyone (myself, my coworkers, and my customers) than it was bad. I was laughing all night and the next day... and still for that matter.
I’m finished for the night. Now you can continue on with your regularly scheduled evening.