FFOAD: Drive-through worker

I’m not sure what test you have to fail in order to qualify for one of these jobs, but I think you need to answer “No” to all of the following questions:
1. Speak and Understand English in a clear fashion?
2. Able to follow instructions?
3. Willing to ask customers to repeat themselves if unclear on their order?

Seemed like a simple enough thing. I was running a little late, and didn’t eat breakfast at home. So I hit McDonald’s for a sandwich, hashbrowns and coffee. Only I didn’t want cheese. McDonald’s cheese tastes like yellow rubber to me. I don’t like the taste, so I don’t have it ruining my food.

I’ve learned to check my order before I leave the window, because the drive-through people that McDonald’s hires are a testament to “Hire the Handicapped, they’re fun to watch”. I give the order and say “no cheese”. The order comes up on the screen and I don’t see the usual extra line that says “without cheese”. So I mention it again.

“Okay! Please pull up…”

I pay, get the order, and open the sandwich. Cheese. I give it back, and say “I don’t want cheese”. So I get the new sandwich, with…

Cheese.

I park, walk in, and finally get what I ordered. Any time saving I had hoped for was lost at this point. If I had WANTED to walk in and order I would have done that in the first place. But oh no, I have to deal with someone that talks like a shit salesman with a mouthful of free samples, and can’t get their head around the idea of “no cheese”.

So FOAD Mr. Drive-through worker. Next time I’ll go somewhere else. I’m going to have to get out of my truck anyways, I don’t want to be angry and frustrated to start my day.

Root for the home team, unless…

The Super Bowl approaches and I’m in a bit of a quandry. I want Peyton Manning to lead the Indianapolis Colts to victory, and forever remove the possibility that he will be “Another Dan Marino”. Only to do this he has to beat the Chicago Bears.

Yeah, I’ll explain. Get comfortable, this is gonna take a while.

First, Peyton Manning. Great player, with great career stats. Before this year had always run into another team (usually the New England Patriots) that beat Manning’s team for the trip to the Super Bowl. So he was hung with the “can’t win the BIG ONE tag.

People like to say that “Football is a team sport”, yet one superstar at any position can make a pro team’s identity. It’s worse when that superstar, and in Peyton’s case a star among superstars, is the QB. A receiver can drop a pass that hits him in the hands, a lineman can miss a block and get the QB wiped out on a sack that causes a fumble, a running back can get fancy and try and reverse his field and lose 15 yards, but if the QB throws an interception during the last drive to try and win the game – you can bet the rent that’s all people are going to talk about. Fair? Not even close.

Well Peyton Manning finally won the “big one” to get to the Super Bowl. His future enshrinement in the Pro Football Hall of Fame is pretty much guaranteed at this point, even if he – excuse me his team – doesn’t win the Super Bowl.

The problem is if he doesn’t win, and never gets back to the Super Bowl, he’ll go to the Hall of Fame like Dan Marino, who had the same type of career. Huge star, feared player, all sorts of records set and never won the Super Bowl. You can’t have a conversation, read an article, or listen to a sports commentator talking about Dan Marino without hearing some form of “but never won the Super Bowl”. I watched the day Marino was enshrined in the Hall of Fame.

That “never won the Super Bowl” was like a huge rock chained to Marino’s ankle that he had to – and will always have to – drag around like Jacob Marley drags chains and lockboxes.

I don’t want that to happen to Peyton Manning. Not because I’m a huge fan of Peyton Manning, or the Colts. But Peyton seems like a nice enough guy, and he doesn’t deserve that. In addition, if there are two players that were incredibly good at playing the position of NFL quarterback, and never won a Super Bowl, then it’s likely that some wag will make a new wing at the Hall of Fame in Canton OH. for players that meet that criteria. It happened to Dan Marino, and that’s enough.

So how do the Chicago Bears play into all of this? Tradition. In this case, family tradition. The Bears play in the NFC North, which houses the Detroit Lions, my home team. While I’m sure someone reading this is now thinking “Oh now I get it, you’re an idiot” – read on, there’s more.

I’m also a University of Michigan fan. As such, I *hate* Ohio State University teams. During the NFL season, I want the Lions to destroy in Bears in the best tradition of the old “Black and Blue Division”. That’s how I was raised. My father was a Detroit Lions and UM fan, and so am I. So one New Year’s Day OSU was playing USC in the Rose Bowl, and I couldn’t wait for USC to just destroy OSU. I mentioned to my father “Dad, how bad do you want USC to win?” to which he replied “I’m hoping Ohio State wins.”

I was – understandably – confused. So my father explained that OSU was from the Big Ten – the same conference as UM. By extension, OSU winning would share that glory with the Big Ten and Michigan. So the Detroit Tigers are my baseball team, and I root for the American League to win the World Series, and for the NFC to win the Superbowl, especially since the Chicago Bears – from the same division as the Lions – are playing in it.

Only if the Bears win, Manning gets hung with that tag.

Clear as mud? I’m not surprised.

You’d think I could get a job but…

I want to get a job in Germany. Or France. Or Great Britain. Something that puts me in a time zone and proximity to Raven so that we’re not 7 hours separated, not to mention that 6,000 mile thing.

Oh no. Lots of jobs, and more red tape and BS than I want to type out.

Here’s my “work history” that never seems to make a bit of difference.
1. I’m a “stable” employee, meaning I get a job and I plan to stay there. In the US, as often as people change jobs, that’s saying something. Me? Treat me fairly and I’ll stay and work for you for years. I made one huge jump from General Motors (where I was a combination line worker/Rescue Tech) to full-time Field Paramedic, but even then I stayed with one place for many years before moving to Texas.

2. I’m never late for work. Let me be clear on this. I don’t mean I arrive “right on the hour” or I only come in 1 minute or so after that. I mean I’m never late. I arrive early – 30 minutes or so – and by the time my shift starts I’m already at work.

I mentioned to my current boss that I’ve been working at this place for the better part of 5 years and I have never punched in late, and he actually went to check my statement. We have a policy that you can be up to 9 minutes “late” and punch in and you don’t get an occurence. There are people that don’t punch in “on time” 5 days in a row. Do the math. If someone worked 48 weeks out of the year (allowing for vacation, holidays, etc.) that’s 240 days. At 9 minutes a day that’s 36 hours you can screw the company out of – almost another full week – and not get penalized.

But as I said, I’m never late. And in all my years, you’ll be hard pressed to find any supervisor I’ve worked for that can show you a day I *have* been late.

3. I won’t do poor-quality work. I just won’t. I will do it correctly and if I need questions answered I will seek those answers so that I do the job I’m asked to do, and do it well. Oh, and I don’t care what I’m doing – I take pride in my work. So if someone in Europe needs a floor-mopper that’s going to make the floors shine like mirrors (even if they are dirt floors dammit) – I would be that guy.

There’s more. I’m highly motivated to work and be successful. I would understand that it would be expensive to move to Germany, and a company would be investing a lot of trust and money by taking a chance on me. I would reward that trust, because I’d be with the woman I love. I would finally be complete with my soulmate close.

So a happy employee that’s never late, doesn’t like to miss time (hates being home sick), highly motivated to do quality work and grateful to the company that hires him. Pay me a living wage and add in health benefits and you got me.

But can I find a job in Germany? Nope.

Don’t get my wrong, I love the job I have here in Austin. I like my bosses and the people I work with. But my heart is owned by Raven and until I’m with her, I’m not complete.

FFOAD: Chipper Weather/Road Reporting Person

Picture this. It’s Austin Texas, and it’s cold.

Damn cold.

Sleet, Ice, and winds have covered an entire city, and the place is shut down. Government offices, Businesses, Schools, you name it – closed.

Weather and Traffice reporters are telling everyone how bad it is, and asking people to please stay home for their own safety. Austin-Bergstrom Airport has untold numbers of people stranded because there is no deicer to clear the planes wings. The City and County Road Services are unable to spread sand/deicer on roads because they don’t have enough.

Yeah, it’s ugly.

Into this mini-disaster rides “Miss Happiness” on Cable Channel 8, smiling and pointing out that trucks on I-35 are “going 55 mph!”, just gushing at how wonderful it is that the expressway is clear and… and… wonderful!

Cut back to the studio where the guy giving road reports looks like he wants to hire a hitman. “Folks, stay home.” – that’s a quote ladies and gentlemen.

So Miss Chipper, Up With People, Oh I’m So Cute I Shit Kittens – this FFOAD goes out to you. Gleefully telling people that if they could slip and slide over secondary roads and avoid going in to a ditch or being part of a 200-car pileup, then I-35 would allow them to drive 55?

Yeah. FOAD.

Icy Reception

The 15th through the 17th of January brought some nice ice and sleet and cold weather to Austin, a place that prides itself on having places to go swimming to cool off in November.

Needless to say, it led to a lot of problems.

Thus, anyone that wants to talk about global warming should avoid me for the next week or so. If you do feel so inclined to discuss the impending destruction of the polar ice caps (while I chip the ice off my truckcicle so I can drive to work) then I hope a homeless person sneezes on you.

FFOAD: Shopping Cart Demolition Derby Drivers

Since the season of Peace on Earth and Goodwill towards Men is past, I’d like to chat about some folks no doubt standing in the returns lines at WalMart right now. Yes, I’m talking about you idiots that have Black Belts in Shopping Cart.

Holy Christ I hope you don’t drive a car the way you push that damn cart around. It seems I can’t go into a WalMart or H-E-B without having to limp out, go home, and ice one or both of my ankles that have been blasted by one of you blind twits.

And oh yeah, I mean BLIND. Shopping carts are by design somewhat large, the better to hold lots of groceries. And you people, OMG you’re good at just leaving them all over, making it impossible to walk past (albeit much better to slow me down so some other sadisitc bastard can ram into me).

Totally oblivious to what’s going on around you, and just rolling along until you smash into some unsuspecting shopper trying to pick the best price on soup or other items.

I especially get a kick out of you Moms that have little Joe Bob push the cart for you. Yeah, he’s being Mommy’s Big Boy, but when I see a shopping cart handle with nothing but knuckles on the handlebar, I immediately start hoping my auto-icemaker isn’t on the fritz. So thanks Moms for yet another sore ankle and thigh bruise. Guess that little design there to allow kids to sit IN the cart is too technical for you to handle.

So this Friday, please FOAD and allow me to shop for groceries this weekend in safety.

So what’s in a name? (resolved – sort of)

I can’t remember names. Seriously. It’s awful. I would like to think that after 26 years working pre-hospital emergency care (a.k.a. being a Paramedic) that I just ended up with too many names to remember.

That’s not exactly accurate. You see, I never forget a face. I’m also one to remember how I’ve interacted with a person or intimate details that the person has told me about their life, and their family, and children, etc. So I can meet someone and ask them if their daughter got to go to the college she was hoping to get accepted to, etc. But I can’t remember the name.

If I’m alone this isn’t an issue. When Raven is standing there it’s sort of a problem. I can’t very well introduce her to Mr. Idunnowhothispersonis now can I?

It’s also fun when I’m trying to tell her something. She sits there while I give information and then butcher the name (provided I even try to remember it).

It’s not like Raven doesn’t exact revenge for this shortcoming of mine (of course). She will ask me – ME – “Do you remember the name of that person that (insert what happened here)?” just for grins. Or maybe she’ll say “Bill and Mary from work wanted to have us over for dinner. What do you think?”

Uh-huh. On a good day (for me) I can try and escape with a “Aww, your cats are so cute! Come look at this!” or ask how her brother is doing at work (Yes, I can remember his name). Once she goes for the direct question though I’m screwed to the wall. Maybe if she tossed in that Bill and Mary are the ones with the hyperactive brat that never wipes his nose, I would know enough to say “Gee, I think I’m gonna be sick that day” or something appropriate.

It also works in Raven’s favor that her friends speak German and I don’t yet. They could be calling me all sorts of vile things with a smile and I won’t know it until I learn German. Even if I remember what was said, I won’t remember the name so who the hell will I be mad at?

All in all, this is one that I have to concede that I’m horrid, and also applaud Raven for accepting this shortcoming with grace, except for those times when she wants to torture me with a reminder of said shortcoming.

It’s a planet, not your damn phonebooth

This weeks FFOAD goes out to all you cell phone-abusing cretins that have no sense of self. You useless, simple-minded asshats, the lot of you.

Cell phones were, and are a great idea. Better than the old CB radios, people stranded on a highway can call for help – privately. Need to make contact in an emergency? Cell phones are great. But it’s gone so far beyond that. People have those damn things welded to their fucking heads all the time. (Better still, they get those neat little earpiece/microphone sets that you can’t see for even more fun.) Walking, talking, driving, talking, shopping, talking. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Please.

It’s been proven that people that talk on cell phones – even using “hands free” systems – while driving have worse reaction times than drunk drivers. (Personally I think that’s because drunk drivers are at least trying not to have an accident.) “Phone drivers” are just lost in their own little conversation world, oblivious to the rest of us (and “the rest of us” is a steadily shrinking number right now) that have to avoid these asshats.

What is it with you people anyways? Are you so fucking insecure that you can’t go to a store and make a purchase without a conference call and the use of a camera phone to send pictures of your intended purchase to all your friends for approval? Oh, and to the guy in line at H-E-B that called his wife to ask “Paper or Plastic?” – the Men’s Club called, they want you to turn in your testicles.

Oh, and when you’re talking on your cell phone, why do you people always have to talk THIS FUCKING LOUD? I don’t wanna be part of your damn conversation. I especially don’t like it when someone standing near me asks a question, and I answer it – only to have them smile and point at their phone earpiece. I really want to give those people a black eye to go with their Bluetooth. I mean that.

In truth, I don’t want to be part of or annoyed by your conversation in a store, in a theatre, or in a restaurant. I can’t believe there is a conversation so important that it can’t wait until you are in a secluded spot. Especially you retards that have your spats over the phone. What, you expect me to cheer you on or something? STFU!! I also think that cell phones are a way that people abdicate their requirement for personal responsibility. If there’s a choice to be made, have someone else make it!! That’s right! The movie you wanted isn’t in? Hey no problem! Don’t even try and make a decision, yank out that damn cell phone and call home and ask.

Maybe it’s my age showing. I have no problem getting into my car and being alone with my thoughts and the radio. I don’t need to my phone, to be a stereo. When I want to watch TV I use a – wait for it – TV. I can enjoy sitting in a quiet house reading a book, where the only “soundtrack” is the birds singing and the odd buzz from insects flying close to the screen.

Since this is the season for giving, please give us a break and on this Friday – FOAD.

A Dog’s Life

I’ll never understand the differences between my two Border Collies – Buddy and Max (they have many nicknames, like Bud and Bud Light for example).

Max is all energy, and will no doubt act like a puppy until the day he dies. He will run until he drops, take 5 minutes to recharge and then run again. He can play “fetch” until my arm goes numb from throwing the ball.

Buddy? Definitely the thinker. Throw the ball for Buddy and he will bring it back. Throw it again, and he will bring it back. Third time, he goes and gets it, then goes off to chew the ball after giving you that “Screw you pal, if you don’t want it then I’m going to chew on it.”

Mornings (ongoing)

I am a morning person.

That is, I get up and I’m awake. I also get up before my alarm goes off, and for me that means a natural wake-up around 4:30am. Raven isn’t a morning person. I think if the normal “day” for people started around noon, she’d be happy.

I tend to be a little frisky in the morning, which has led to her making assorted threats of dismemberment. (Thus endeth my ideas about Wake-up Sex)

She views my “morningness” as an abomination, and the fact that I don’t need coffee to start my engine an affront to Nature. Mind you, when we’re together she doesn’t complain about me being up early and feeding the cats – so they don’t bother her – one little bit.

Raven really isn’t an evil person, and after she’s awake (I use that term loosely here) and had her coffee and some time to fully come around is quite wonderful, and once the growling and dark stares stop is fun to cuddle with. As great a fault my being a Morning Person is, she still loves me. Hate the Sin, Love the Sinner I guess eh?