Thursday, July 31, 2003 My Wife Eats Like a Rabbit
I spilled a tray of root beer on a nice family last night. Also, in all the confusion, I didn't put their order in for several minutes, so their food was late. Things like this could discourage me, especially in the face of the constant sneers I get from Work Enemy. I don't know what his problem is, but he seems fairly convinced that I'm stupid. Now, given incidents like the rootbeer spilling, I might be inclined to agree with him, but I've been utterly inept at more difficult jobs than this one, and the key is to say nasty things about your work enemies on the internet until they quit in a high dudgeon. I don't think that's going to fly with this Work Enemy, though. He loves his job too much. I think maybe he's bitter because he's doughy, and he knows that's wrong.
In any case, he didn't even see me spill the rootbeer. He sneers at behavior such as asking the cooks (of which he is one, as he seems to do every damn job in the restaurant) for the necessary food items, such as fries, to complete an order. If only The Hulk could help me out and do a little smashing, that would be extremely helpful. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/31/2003 02:42:00 PM
0 comments
Tuesday, July 29, 2003 Dear Secret Genius
I've never met you (as far as I know, that is!), but I know your work. You are the architecht of my world, and your handiwork bears your creative signature just as clearly as if you had signed your handiwork with a pen or a paint marker. I'm writing today, Secret Genius, to thank you for writing the script for my telephone surveying assignment this week. As you know, I've been calling Texas during dinner time, right as they are roping the entrees and executing them. The words you have chosen for me to speak to Texas about Tort Reform show the kind of attention to craft and detail that I have come to expect from you and you alone.
I originally wanted, as I sat in my half-cubby confusing the elderly today by activating their telephone-machines, to congratulate you on the phrase "won't protect Texans". After I said it four hundred times, though, I really developed a soft spot for "let the elected politicians of the Texas legislature decide." Only you, Secret Genius. Only you.
In deepest sincerity and physical mouth-pain,
Cara posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/29/2003 11:58:00 PM
0 comments
Sunday, July 27, 2003 Oh, look!
Little dog in clean
laundry. I guess now I see
why others fold clothes.
The good news for today is that I'll finally be getting paid for a human guinea pig study I did while I was staying in Philadelphia. I should be getting a couple hundred bucks for staying overnight in a hospital with an IV catheter in my arm, watching lots of animal planet. The animal planet wasn't part of the study, though. It should have been, I think. There was a show about a poodle giving birth, and people just said "poodle" over and over again. Also, sometimes, for the purposes of the study, our keepers would lock the fridge.
The check from that should just about cover the delinquent parking ticket I incurred coming in for my last blood draw the next day.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/27/2003 07:59:00 PM
0 comments
Sunday, July 20, 2003 Robocop es party dog numero uno, and I'll be your server today
I got to the mall where my new job is located early, because, you know, I didn't want to be late. I was like, 15 minutes early, and that was all wrong. I sat in the car and read for the surplus time. Towards the end of that time, some teenagers sped through the parking lot in a yellow jeep and parked catecorner to me, sitting creepily in the tinted station wagon. I was deathly afraid they would be new co-workers. I tried to glance at them surreptitiously, but I ended up just eying them from under my beetling brows, I think. Every damn thing I do turns out creepy. My fetus was secretly injected with Buscemi genes.
The little girl of the couple was indeed a new co-worker. I had to think about that for my whole 2 hour class on how to upsell appetizers and shit.
At the end of the class, one of the other new servers asked me what she should do with her unfinished drink. I told her to take it to the dish area and dump it in the bucket provided, and that if there was no bucket she could dump it on the counter. The dish counter, when I was the Dish Rommel, at least, is filthy. This is because people keep putting dirty dishes on it. It is also wet. This is because people put wet things on it. Also, because nobody ever remembers to dump the bucket when the restaurant is busy. Also, it's a little bucket.
Well! Somebody had a problem with that. One of the bussers looked at me and the new recruit and he said, "No! Don't ever dump it on the counter."
"Yeah, but sometimes there's no bucket," I said.
"There's alwaysa bucket," he said. "If I catch anybody dumping their glasses on the counter, I'll hurt them in some specified physical manner."
"You take a hard line approach to this," I said.
"There's always a bucket," he said. Then he turned on his heel and left. He is my first work enemy. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/20/2003 10:41:00 PM
0 comments
This time tomorrow, I'll be wearing borrowed shoes
I'm not actually sure that true. I have that big bagel store interview tomorrow. Right now I'm raising Robocop's hopes that she's going on a walk. She's dreamin'. New server orientation won't wait. When I come back, I'll post instructions on how to roll silverware. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/20/2003 06:24:00 PM
0 comments
ucking-fay ooseless-lay
I've been asking Jeeves and asking him, and I can't get a straight answer on how many pounds of pressure it takes to tear off a human ear. My pal Earthworm the EMT would know this, because she knows all kinds of gruesome medical facts but the hellions she lives with are probably asleep by now. Goddamnit. I'm really curious. All the estimates I've heard are ridiculously low. Also, I can't for the life of me figure out where I heard them!
Is it from sitcoms? That's pretty much my main source of the weird invisible background cultural knowledge that everybody has somehow.
Like, I've only ever met one person from my own demographic who didn't know that kryptonite kills Superman. We were both about 15 at the time. How on earth did she live that long on this planet and not know that? Weirder still, though, when I thought about it, was how the hell did I know it? I'd never read comics, and neither had any of my family or close friends. I didn't see any Superman movies until I was 16, and even then, it was only Superman II, over and over again because the boyfriend of that era was kind of obsessed with it.
Superman wasn't exactly a hot brand in my youth, especially pre-Seinfeld, so it's not like his image or the legend of Superman's weakness for Kryptonite was being used in commercials and stuff.
I just knew about it.
In this same way, I know that coca cola used to be nothing more than a slurry of fructose and pure cocaine, and that your ears (or mine, which I'm even more worried about) will just come off if an acquaintance should give them a friendly tug.
Still, I'm beginning against all odds to believe that this information is ersatz, just part of the massive pack of lies concocted by the world's grown-ups.
Because I caught my ear against the car door tonight, and it totally didn't come off. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/20/2003 05:05:00 AM
0 comments
Saturday, July 19, 2003 pitty sing
The cats are down at the pet store, getting gawked at by passersby, and maybe (some day, possibly) they'll get adopted. The apartment feels so empty without them. I hope they're enjoying themselves. This week there's a batch of screaming kittens up for grabs as well, though, so I don't think there's much chance for the big cats.
I think the dog is a little worried about their sudden departure. She keeps wandering around doing what looks like a search for them. I worried earlier that it was actually a search for a spot to pee, and lugged her downstairs, but that didn't seem to be the issue.
I'm beginning to think she orchestrates these outings just for a chance to walk around and get admired. Her jaunty new bandanna as well as her first-ever (in my household, at least) bath seem to have given her a swelled head. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/19/2003 12:47:00 PM
0 comments
Further information on eating leaves
I was going to type more on the leaf-eating before, but then I went off to dinner at a restaurant called O'Charley's. So, you see, I'll eat any old comestible.
But poke greens...I felt so earthy and Southern. And yet so wrong. One of the biggest messages I got out of childhood was that poke berries aren't for eating. If you ate one, it would kill you, right there on the spot. Family members and concerned strangers alike drilled this into my head, due to their alarm over my habit of picking handfuls of miscellaneous berries and carrying them around. I was a weird kid.
But look, once someone has slapped a handful of pretty black berries out of your hand and yelled "Poison! Those are poison!" and totally freaked you out because you don't like loud noises, strangers, concern, or having your little paw slapped at, the lesson sinks in: this plant is not for eating.
So I used to smear the berries' bright red juice all over myself instead. I was the primitivist's answer to little Coco Chanel. Poke berry "nail polish" was my cosmetic of choice for like, years. Once this years' crop ripens I may try to revive the look.
I feel a deep attachment to this plant, you know? Also, it's everywhere around this town. There's more poke berries in the local biomass than there are decomposing Confederate war dead.
So, when the book I was typing all about last post said it was edible, I was psyched. The secret, the book said, was to pick leaves without any purple coloration, and then boil them for a taste treat.
It all seemed to dovetail together perfectly. My reducing diet calls for me to eat an actual vegetable every day, my pocket-book is empty except for coupons, and this fine, previously poisonous vegetable grows wild several feet from the back door of my building. The one possible downside was that it was near the mean dog's yard, but that day, the mean dog was inside or at the vet's or something, and he didn't bother me at all as I filled the pouch I'd improvised from the bottom of my t-shirt with leaves.
I really lorded it over the cats and dog at dinner time that night. They were all milling around and yelling and defecating on the floor in protest, because I'd served them the FMV (For Maximum Value) breed-specific brands of pet foods. "Grow up, you jerks," I told them. "You better count your blessings, alright? Because you know what I'm eating for dinner? Wet leaves!"
I wish this story had a good ending that didn't involve me waking up with sharp stomach pains a five the next morning, but that's really just what happened. I have a couple theories as to what went wrong. I maybe should have changed the water I boiled the greens in a couple times before I ate them, or maybe I shouldn't have picked leaves from such big, mature stalks. The main theory I have though, is that I ate some stuff I picked from the alley.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/19/2003 12:05:00 AM
0 comments
Friday, July 18, 2003 dough
I wanted sandwiches for dinner tonight, so i started some bread, but the mate is threatening to eat all the raw dough. It's an eggless recipe, so I guess it can't hurt him. Also, he eats raw hamburger meat when he's making meatballs, because it looks too delicious to wait for. The dough, she is negligible, as far as threats to my mate's life go. I'd say the top several are the raw meat, my shotgun-totin' pappy, and some form of tetantus. Luckily, he is very resilient. Me, not so much.
The other day I had this great idea. This great money saving idea. Shoplifting! Ha ha. No, not really. I learned that lesson well. No, my great idea was to pick some leaves from the alley and eat them for dinner. I'd been meaning to do something like this for years, ever since I got a lavishly photo-illustrated field guide to edible wild plants. In the past, I'd always been too timid to go after the less-delicious seeming varieties of feral greens.
Therefore, teh book was intriguing but essentially useless, because unless you're willing to walk around abandoned railroad tracks and constructions sites and shit looking for obscure leaf-shapes, there's not much it can tell you if you already know what, say, blackberries look like. (Sidenote: the mate has never had a blackberry. Also, he has never been stung by a bee. He is from frickin' Neptune.)
But I ate some poke greens. To save money. And I woke up sick.
I'm never doing that again. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/18/2003 07:07:00 PM
0 comments
Thursday, July 17, 2003 Oh, and.
Those assholes at Bennigans totally aren't the ones who hired me. Coy fucks. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/17/2003 09:02:00 PM
0 comments
Welcome to and I'll be
So. I got hired someplace. Same old damn place I used to work two or three years ago, washing dishes. This time I'll be a server, so that I can pull in the big bucks. I will be required to wear a polo shirt. I will also be required, if I remember correctly, to wear black or khaki pants. I am so glad I went to college.
A girl I knew from highschool and later this same workplace was there while I was filling out my application. Every time she walked by, she said, "Don't do it, Cara. Don't do it." It could be she thinks its a bad job. Maybe, though, she doesn't like me.
Our shitty extra-basic cable is showing Robocop. I think Robocop would be a good name for the dog. She isn't much like a robotic cop, but she is beloved by many. Also, I've never seen her not fight crime when the oppourtunity presented itself. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/17/2003 09:00:00 PM
0 comments
Wednesday, July 16, 2003 Join our team!
How psyched am I?
Way.
One of the soulless Generic Grill restaurants called me back. My interview is this afternoon. I can't wait.
Team Cat is lounging in identical positions cuddled up next to each other on the couch, dreaming of their next oppourtunity to scream and yowl for Fancy Feast. They are our foster cats. Every week we have to take them to a nearby petstore so that the Cat Ladies can display them to potential adopters. We've only had them for a few days, though so this hasn't come up yet.
We agreed over the telephone to take them, and then the same day we found a little dog wandering into traffic. She's a little brown and white thing. Her ancestry is ambiguous. The best guess anybody's come up with so far is that she's some sort of Corgi/Chihuahua mix. She is also ancient. She only has about four teeth. Doesn't seem to bother her, though. Her hobbies include getting the leash stuck inside pricker bushes and sleeping.
I've promised her that, should I get this job today, one of my first acts will be to buy her the non-generic dog food she likes. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/16/2003 01:11:00 PM
0 comments
Monday, July 14, 2003 Mouths to feed
I know, I know, I just posted. But like I said, I don't have a job, and I've never really had hobbies. In fact, ever since I got to point in my TelleNovella where I knew I had to put it down for a few months (no, seriously. I meant to do this. I knew this was coming. My laziness is at least part of a vague plan.), I've been mooning around the house (car, hovel, apartment) eating candy. This is really counter-productive, because if I realy want to stack some cash, I'd get into stripping, and even here below the Maon-Dixon line, where all the butts are bigger, being biggie-sized is not a job asset. It's a moot point for right now, though, because a fairly large local club just got shut down. Apparently the management told the landlords that they were going to be running a "sports bar", and after some months, the landlords realized that "playin' bitches" was not a recognized sport at all. They padlocked the doors with no warning about a week ago, so about 40 or 50 people were out of work. Naturally, they've been flooding the other local clubs with requests for auditions, so there's not even a point in me trying to break into anything right now.
Oddly enough, this post was supposed to be about my new avocation as a crazy animal collector. Like the Beacon Hill Cat Lady, except decent and sane. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/14/2003 07:18:00 PM
0 comments
I'm going to dial for depression and stay in bed all day.
I'm still looking for work. Still have none. The application process is getting increasingly demeaning, though. The worse the job, the more invasive the questions they ask you. For example at Bennigan's, a national chain of anonymous American-grill type places, they make you sit in a deserted section and peck your application into something like a Flintstones-era Gameboy. It's called a UniCru.
First they have the same old questions. School and employment history. Personal references. Then they got into the terrible section. I've come to know the terrible section well. Apparently it's very hip and modern to have your prospective employee answer something that has little to do with the available job. For example, Urban Outfitters had me write that story about the first time I encountered them. A local bead store wants a paragraph on someone whom I admire. Unless they're hoping I'll say Liberace, I can't see why they give a flying sequin.
Bennigans, though. Jesus. I was kind of expecting one of the notorious "ethics tests" that haunt the world of pink-collar employment. "Suppose you had this workmate, Sad Becky. And she had one leg. And six children. And a cat with leukemia. And her husband had just been crushed by a threshing machine. What if you saw her take home an extra (bottle of conditioner, order of hotwings, handfull of twenties)? Would you tell on Sad Becky?" The correct answer, is naturally, "Sir, yes Sir. "
I was prepared to lie like a champ, because middle managers either take these things very seriously, or just generally don't like smartasses. Instead of asking about Sad Becky, though, the Bennigan Family was more interested in me. I was way flattered, at first, but the UniCru just got ruder and ruder! I had to Strongly Agree, Agree, Disagree, or Strongly Disagree with a bunch of first-person statements like "I like to work alone more than I like to work with people." "I swear when I argue." "Sometimes I just get so angry. All I see is black. I just want to stab and stab and stab." "I feel nervous in crowds." "My mood changes from happy to sad often and for no reason." "See this booth? 100% genuine baby skin."
So far, they haven't called me back. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/14/2003 06:39:00 PM
0 comments
Monday, July 07, 2003 Smooth
The mate and I went to the Smoothie King once too often, and while we've never seen the monarch himself, we've seen one of his underlings--perhaps the Smoothie King's Grand Vizier--once too often, and he thinks we are all friends. He sits in the smoothie court talking and talking. The Smoothie courtesans never speak to us, but when we sit outside, we see them through the glass, coquettishly removing their visors and replacing them hastily when the hated Vizier is back. Still, our connection to the halls of smoothie power has its advantages, which almost outweigh the awkwardness.
The other day, the mate webt in to request a cup of ice water. The smoothie courtesans exchanged a languid glance and went to get him a tiny Dixie cup. Then the Smoothie Vizier appeared, and said, "Nah, he's cool. Get him the *big* cup."
32 ounces of iced tap water. It's like knowing a a Kennedy.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/07/2003 03:03:00 PM
0 comments
Sunday, July 06, 2003 Sticky
The mate and I and an old friend went and watched the local 4th of July celebration the other day. I was happy to be there, despite the crowds and bugs, but I was a little upset at the orchestra. I was waiting to hear "Be Kind to You Web-Footed Friends", which is my favorite 4th of July song. Instead, they were playing something else. Some thing rousing and familiar. Was it some sort of classical overture, some obscure Sousa march? It was in the back of mi--oh, shit. You had to be kidding me.
The tune?
It was Bohemian Rhapsody.
That pissed me off at first. I was hoping for corny, perky songs that could really rouse a crowd to rob the Indians or refuse to pay sales tax. Instead I get Queen?
Then I realized that this is the first Independance Day of legal sodomy in the US, and it all seemed perfect. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/06/2003 01:33:00 PM
0 comments
|
