(On a side note - never thought I'd like teriyaki but have now determined to go to Chinatown in LA to try real Chinese for probably the second time in my life, and the first in a decade or so.)
Episode 1:
(She sits in her empty office, reading notes amid a desk piled high with unfinished filing. Enter an email, complete with "you've got mail" beep.)
Got an email from one of my two supervisors today, forwarded from my other supervisor, asking about the status on an official document of which I had physical possession. (It was sitting on my desk, gathering dust). Well, it turns out, unbeknownst to me, the status was a big Incomplete. Long story short, I had to draft a piece of official Navy correspondence, which I'd never done before, and do it quickly. Fortuitously, I had, months ago, cleverly printed out the SECNAV Instruction on Correspondence. The task itself, not so complicated, with a sample layout right in front of me. So I'm pretty pleased that I managed to pull an official correspondence I'd never written before out of thin air in about 20 minutes. It appears work well under pressure.
Episode 2:
(Two coworkers, female, walking up the street to the row of restaurants commonly used for lunching purposes. A third, male, runs up and begins to walk alongside.)
As a friend and coworker and I were walking to lunch, another coworker, who had already eaten and was on his way back to work, turned around and ran back to join us. Even though he'd already eaten, and was unwelcome company, he followed us for at least three blocks. I'm not one to be super nice to people I don't like (it's just who I am - I don't have that virtue they call patience), so I didn't say a lot, while my other coworker chatted with him. She finally, and pretty tactfully, told him we were on our way to a girls' lunch, which he didn't believe at first. Finally he got the hint, and turned around and left.
Really, it was too much.
Episode 3:
(An employee in the logo-ed polo shirt worn by all concession employees walks into her least favorite stand, already expecting a repeat of the slow and decidedly poor evening two nights past)
So I ran late today getting to my second job, because I needed an emergency milkshake, which temporarily replaced the Emergency Margarita, because I can't drink & drive/drink & work. Legally. I can't. I told my supervisor (enough with the supervisors already!) as much. I get there, and the only concession stand I work in during the season is closed, because there aren't enough spectators to see High School Musical. Surprise. I walk over to the other one, and ask the stand manager what registers are open. I'm a cashier/bartender, you see. I've been working here for five years now, and I haven't run (job description: get food for cashier) in probably three of them. The stand manager told me I was running tonight. I exclaimed, to which she said patronizingly (and this is her first season) "You were late, dear".
Here's where, if there are parallel words, like in that old show Sliders (anybody remember that one?), two worlds would have diverged. In an alternate universe, would have been thinking clearly instead of reacting to a Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day, I would have explained the situation to the stand manager. Now, after the whole incident is over, I know exactly what I'd say. Well, instead, I went over her head. She didn't like that, and though there wasn't anything she could do about it, she did question our supervisor. Figured out after he asked a couple more questions that somebody extra had showed up, and that's why there were extra cashiers, so I decided to go home, as I wasn't needed.
Now I'm off to make myself a morale-boosting gin and tonic, and hopefully a healthy dinner. Though that depends on what's in the fridge...
The end.
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