Current Mood:  irritated
Current Music: dishwasher
One thing that really doesn't bother me more is the extreme happiness of service workers. I'm all for a pleasant smile and cordial behavior, but there is no need for excessive humanity. So, I was with my mom getting food and I got a chicken sandwich, grilled because I'm so concious of my waistline, and everything else was in the bag but that. No big deal, really. So the window guy was like, "I'll have to twist their arms back there just to get this sandwich." Clearly kidding. So, then from the passenger seat, I just quietly mutter, "Twist it!" Then, all I hear from the window guy is, "Aight! Gimme my sandwich!" It was classic, just great. He was clearly still kidding, but I knew part of that breath was tainted with a little rage. I know when I would have to work a waitlist at brunch for hours, my smile was plastered with hostility. Why do you think I bleach? So the smile looks more real. Because really, a service worker has no business being so happy. They just don't. If you earn a wage that ends in "cents" then you'd be a service worker. Point one, down. Second, today at the store, there was this display case, I don't know what you call it, but it was full of chickens and wings and, just I was salivating like a fool and it was horrendous. My mom and I talked for a whlie about Montreal people and summed up some nice conclusions and, of course, no story is complete without pictures and I was so happy I had some. So, ya'll know how I'm writing a book, right? No one is off limits. If I've ever met you, even randomly, you might be in it. Not your real name, of course, or any recognition, you're not writing the fucking book, but thanks for the inspiration. I hope it actually gets read by more than my immediate family and people I force to read it. I could always market it to prisons, they've got to get bored in there, I mean, how many times can you read the Bible or a Highlights magazine? Oh! Women's correctional facilities or juvy centers. |