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At the early AM grunt job this morning, we were one person shorthanded. May not seem like a biggie, but that was a third of the staff. So the Manager Girl was trying really hard to do the work of two people for a couple hours. "How un-gentlemanly!" you say to yourself. Well, I have assigned duties I'm not supposed to deviate from. Plus, they've intentionally left me untrained for any of those other things just so they won't be tempted to steal me away from those assigned duties when problems like this arise. Later in the morning, more crew begin to arrive on time and things get closer to normal.
Another Manager Girl arrives. (Yes, ya pretty much gotta have boobs to get a promotion at this place.) We'll call her "Cindy" for the sake of protecting the guilty. She's about 5-foot-nothing and about 100 lbs with her coat on. That famous short guy Napoleon didn't have a Napoleon Complex, he had a Cindy Complex. Cindy is blonde and green eyed and quite cute. And frequently meaner than a hung-over honey badger that just got off the phone with a bill collector. We get along quite well. Did I mention she's preggers? Imagine a hung-over honey badger with hormonal issues and occasional abdominal pains. The joy, it is overwhelming...
She is an accomplished Complainer, and has a complete mastery of every variation of every four-letter word. This morning, whilst standing inertly and doing nothing, she goes on a tirade about how everybody is standing around doing nothing and complaining about being shorthanded. "Instead of [bleep]ing b*tching and bringing everybody down, why don't we just [bleep]ing get to [bleep]ing work and stop with the [bleep]ing complaining!"
This event crossed the Maximum Irony threshold and I could no longer stifle my laughter. Laughing at her when she's PO'd (in other words "laughing, ever") is like snapping Darth Vader with a damp gym towel. Not recommended. I think I still have the job...
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The "Check Engine" light in my car came on yesterday. Now the debate is whether to spend $69 bucks on a code reader to cancel the light, or to do the ol' "disconnect the battery 'til the car forgets that it is stupid" trick. Which would mean re-learning how to set the clock and the radio presets. Leaning towards getting the code reader.
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We've done the "funniest" and "most embarrassing" things here, so what about "most disgusting?" Yay, that'll be fun! First, a little background...
In my old hometown, Memorial Day weekend is the big deal. Parade, carnival, hydroplane races, stuff like that. They call it "Boatnik" and it attracts every gap-toothed tweeker, weed-addled hippie and shirtless beer-sopped redneck in the area. And I'm not just talking about the carnies. The people-watching is almost as fun as the boat races. It was Memorial Day 1990, back when I was Young-n-StupidTM (Give-or-take a year. Gimme a break, I'm getting old) and a bunch of my homies and I took the weekend off from college to make the trip back home. We had a bunch of pickups parked in a shape like a star, tailgate-to-tailgate and were beerbonging. If you park your pickups in a ring and beerbong before the hydroplane races, you might... be a redneck. There are two classes of boats...
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| Fast and agile hydroplanes with outboard motors that race against each other. |
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| And larger two-man boats with gnarly inboard V8s that race against the clock. |
It was suggested that maybe we should climb down the rocks to the water's edge and get a good view, as shown in the pic above.
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| It's called Hellsgate Canyon for a *reason*, you moron! |
Cue dramatic music and brace for the disgusting...
Yeah, Lester lost it. Whole gutload of cheap beer launched right into the middle of our little tailgate star. A girl named Wendy said "Oh my gosh! That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen!" Then this bunghole** of a guy, named John (not me!) said "No it isn't. *THIS* is!" and he reached into Lester's yack... retrieved a remarkably intact piece of macaroni... and ate it. This caused a couple other people to buick right there on the grass between the trucks, too. It was like the pie-eating scene in Stand By Me.
**I say that of him because he was an ornery drunk that always wanted to fight. "Think so? Huh? Wanna go? Right now! Yeah, I knew you're a chicken**** 'cuz you know I could take my AR and blow your head off at 600 yards."
I'm not sure why we ever put up with that dork.
And yes, we did climb down the rocks. It was mossy and slick and incredibly stupid but we all lived to tell the tale.
And we all lived to tell the tale...
ReplyDeleteExcept the bunghole John, who died of toxic intake.
Would you believe that your engine light problem is connected to your gas cap not fitting properly? Try screwing that baby in again. I swear, that's what a guy at an auto parts store tried to sell me.
ReplyDeleteDRC - I betcha that guy is in prison by now
ReplyDeleteBob - You know, I've heard that before but had totally forgotten about it 'til you mentioned it. I'll take a shot at that. Thanks.
Hmm, amusing and informative. I'll try the gas cap trick as well. My check engine light is annoyingly lit as well.
ReplyDeleteYou know Bill Daley laughed a female boss once and look where he isn't now. Just saying.
ReplyDeleteHopefully she'll be very forgiving. But if not you might have to take one for the team. Just saying.
As for eating puke-covered macaroni, isn't that what they call chef Boyardee?
Heh! Quite the crowd you growed up with, Inno...
ReplyDeleteDisconnect the battery.
That's my philosophy in life.
Or, ignore it, and it will go away.
Works every time. Trust me, it does.
My check engine light has been on for over a year now; it's a bad oxygen sensor according to People Who Know These Things. It would also cost $400.00 or so (rounded off) to replace so I opted NOT to do so. No ill effects... the car runs fine, otherwise.
ReplyDeletein re: your Manager Girl. I tend to stay far, far away from pregnant women these days. But I realize you may not have that option.
Spew into this ...
ReplyDeletedarn blogger told me it didn't like how I typed the v-word... Liar!
ReplyDeleteMatt - I tried the gas cap trick last night and the light went off about 3 minutes later. WHoohoo! Thanks, Bob.
ReplyDeleteInfidel - Please don't send me to Chicago.
Andy - We were basically the good student/well behaved bunch. Except when we weren't.
Buck - 20 years ago when I was workin' auto parts, an O2 sensor was only about $80. I think they're more like a $100 or so now and pretty easy to change. Your mechanic may be abusing you.
Odie - Consider this post to be payback for your buttfloss post the other day. Spew, indeed.
Ivan - I grew up in Grants Pass. The boat racing circuit includes towns in northern CA, so you may have seen some of the same boats.
They allow jet-boats on the river? I thought that was one of those wild and scenic places, where only tourists get to ride in jet-boats. Nice photos, anyhow.
ReplyDeleteAt the place I used to work, there were a couple of cute girls - both extremely High-Maintenance. They also knew All There Is To Know, which made it difficult to put together assignments for them.
Inno, great post. Good luck with your manager girl!
ReplyDeleteThat check engine light problem and the commenters who gave you advice got me wondering if this problem is similar to the old philosopher's question: if a tree falls in the forest and no one's there to hear it, does it make a sound? Only the new version would be twisted around some. "If a check engine light comes on all the time and people ignore it does that mean there's never a real engine problem?"
Your "most disgusting" moment reminded me of a job I had right out of HS hauling maggoty rotten eggs to the dump. I only worked at the place 3 months but I finally gave up trying to wash the smell out of my work clothes and threw them all away.
MAX - The Wild & Scenic rules only apply on the Lower Rogue from (I think) Graves Creek to Lobster Bar. Not much with a motor on it is allowed on that stretch, except for US Mail and I think the Sheriff. The rest of the river is available for powerboats.
ReplyDeleteThe tourist jetboats on the Middle Rogue are pretty danged fun, too. In the summer when the water levels are down, there are patches that are only 18" or so deep. So the big jets have to JAM to stay on-plane and not drag bottom on the rocks. Rocking through the twisty sections at 40+ mph is a blast. The boat driver (pilot?) has to drift sideways through the turns to keep his speed up.
Alas, the photos aren't mine. Just poached off google images.
Dan makes a good point, and raises a truism. (Okay...that's not the right term, but I'm too lazy to think too hard)
ReplyDeleteHow many of us used to turn our heads in terror when a "car alarm" went off back in the 90's? Surely, some miscreant was breaking in to a car...and we just had to do something about it!!!
Now, when a car alarm goes off, nobody even looks...just passes on by the honking, and blinking lights...because some moron hit the "panic" button while trying to pull their phone out of their pocket.
Sure, everybody hears it...but, everybody ignores it.
So, it didn't happen.
Maybe.
In keeping with the theme, one of my most disgusting moments involved Elder Daughter all dressed up in her pretty baby pink dress for 18 month old portraits and the hot dog I fed her in the car after picking her up from daycare so she wouldn't be cranky with hunger. The hot dog didn't agree with her, and there was that pretty dress. So, I just caught the hot dog on its way back up in my hands. We learn to do some pretty gross stuff as parents, huh?
ReplyDeleteOr, maybe it was the time I picked up Pepper's can of Old Milwaukee (hey, we were young and broke!) to steal a swig and the can I swigged from turned out to be his spit can.
Oh well -- both choices involve regurgitation, so take your pick.
Moogie, I have done the "catch the vomit in your hands" deal on the way to church for "Baby Dedication Sunday," too (WAY back in the day).
ReplyDeleteBut, you win with the spit can story.