Complaining White People

This morning I was standing in line to pay for a banana, because I like potassium, but only when it comes in a peel-able skin. And can be peanut buttered. Which it would be. Hold a moment, let me rewind a bit.

The cafeteria at work is really as nice as you can get in a work eatery. Carpeted floors, comfy booths, and tons upon tons of options for food. Healthy snacks which can be deep fried. Buffalo burgers. Tamarind chutney! Also, it is run with a certain amount of care, run by a few people who have mixed degrees of Hospitality and Customer Serviceness. For most of my tenure here it has been run by one of two men, one of them so fiercely dedicated to proper customer service and PC'ism that he came to my office to apologize to my co-worker. His apology was due to the fact that, during what I think was Korean Heritage Week, my co-worker (who is Korean by way of Ottowa), asked a cook why they were serving Pho (fuh), a Vietnamese soup. The guy came to the office, with a chef in tow, to apologize. They genuinely cared about not appearing to be a-pipes, and for that I have a certain amount of respect.

It appears that new people are runnning the show over there. The two guys who appeared to manage the cafeteria were always around, helping out, saying "Hey Kortek! Nice digitial watch!" and the like. Not any more. I haven't seen them in a few weeks. In their stead is a woman whose demeanor is perfect for the restaurant industry, because she reminds me of steam burns and cheese-grater-nipped fingertips in a salt bath. Just a peach of a gal, she breathes as though put-upon by the world. When ringing up your total, she stares off into space as though, were it not for a few bad years there after her second marriage to her third husband, she would probably be managing that truck stop by now. She's a solidly-built woman of about 5'9", sturdy in the hips and fluid of movement. Probably has a little self-defense and/or women's rights march-training under her SansABelt.
Her bouquet is melange of old coffee, Newports, and sweaty nylons. This is work. There's no time for fun.
And everyone...
Has to...
Deal with it.

The rest of the staff is fun. The gal at the grill would make me dance when I ordered a buffalo burger, and I always hesitated before dipping into a soft-shoe or maybe a little jig. I don't worry about looking silly; I work at THE Software Company, surrounded by grown men who tuck their silk-screened Wolf motif T's into their denim shorts.

Most of the counter staff are Latina, very friendly, upbeat women that make it feel less like a coffee purchase and more like a cultural experience. I don't even care if they're talking about me in Spanish, they do it with a smile. To that I say ARRIBA!

Back to this morning. While walking to get in line, the New Boss Lady, or "White Heat," is barking orders to one of the Counterstaff bonitas, "Then when you pick that bag up, put it in here and wheel it out. I'll be back in ten minutes." The woman she was talking to has worked there longer than White Heat. But White Heat doesn't get paid to let people work, she gets paid to MANAGE. (print that to a T-shirt, NOW)

I'm in line at the coffee counter behind a guy holding a breakfast burrito, while I stand and listen to the next exchange between Rosa (her real name), and a woman who appears to be the younger sister of White Heat, or possibly a jackal. Lil Sis says "Well I can't get the milk, we have to wait until, uh… the other one… when she gets back," then returns to pursing her lips and longing for a new Air Supply record. I will not even attempt to fathom what "the other one" meant. Rosa, rolling her eyes, turns to help Burrito man, who complains that his burrito doesn't have anything in it, and that he waited a really long time for it.

That's about all he said. When offered a refund, he said "Yes, it has nothing in it, and I should be refunded." He paid $2.45 for it. Nothing in it? Seems like you'd notice that. He got his refund, then muttered something about "bad service" and went back to being anti-social.

I was next, and motioning to my banana, which was in my hand, and was actually a banana, I said "There is something wrong with this orange." We had a laugh and away I went. I also watched Rosa pull the aforementioned milk out of the low-boy cooler and place it on the counter for Lil Sis, who was still wondering how much longer she would have to deal with this crap until rescued by a young Russell Mitchell... Or Graham Russell, didn't matter, just come 'n' get it. And by "it" I mean "sweaty nylons."

Then it dawned on me. The white people in that scenario were all complaining. The rest of the players were just working. White Heat, Angry Management. How do you get a burrito with nothing in it, watching them make it in front of you, AND YOU DIDN'T KNOW? And Lil Sis, wow, what a joy to have to deal with in the morning. You don't HAVE TO work here, ya know? And then there's me, complaining about the complaining.

My only suggestion is to just smile and make the best of the sitch, and when you can, make a joke about your banana.

-Addendum-
I was told last weekend that I was carrying a negative attitude. Perhaps I was. There's been some stress regarding the wedding plans. I'm sure it can all be solved easily with some proper planning or my body in a shallow grave. And comedy plans. And work plans. Etc. Just getting the steam out so the gears mesh and roll the machine forward. I decided then and there to be Positive.

About an hour later we ran to get the propane tank filled for some grilling. We were greeted by a woman who, judging from her disposition, was surely on the last two chemical components that would allow us to create worm-holes for interstellar travel, when interrupted by PAYING CUSTOMERS?!?!

I asked how she was doing, she sighed a "Well if it weren't so busy I'd be better." I replied with "Oh come on. I can go somewhere else if you like?" She said "Well my boss wouldn't like that."

Soon after, I was paid a very high compliment, when told "Her attitude really puts your negativity into perspective."

AND THAT… is why I love Alicia. She can almost admit when I'm not as big of a poopyhead as she thinks I am.


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What A Rush

In topical humor...

Rush Limbaugh was stopped in a Florida airport after his bag was searched and turned up a bottle of Viagra. He's already on a plea deal to not be runnin' round with too many Rx bottles, because he was hustling doctors for his pill addiction. Well the Viagra wasn't in his name, showing some fraud was at work, and potentially landing him in the slammer.

He may go to jail. Not for fraud, but because it's a crime for Rush Limbaugh to have a boner.

Gross.

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