Yesterday...trying to keep my cruel bitch button OFF.03:49 Dec 18 2011
Times Read: 1,363
I always feel a little bit guilty after ranting about Big Momma, as she is a nice person...not bitchy at all. But right when I feel bad about dissing her, she does something to piss me off all over again, and my apparent cruel streak resurfaces.
Yesterday, she did clean up the walk-in...and didn't do a bad job of it either. She was beginning to grate on our nerves though when she kept asking where stuff was (mops, cleansers, etc. If she had ever cleaned in the past, she'd know where to get everything)...In the end she was winded, but I think the fact that as the walk-in is very cold, it helped her. (She likes going inside of it a lot to hide). What makes me not like her is the fact that she knows what she has to do to get fit and healthy. She has doctors and good medical coverage, yet she does nothing to help herself. She constanly has a pity party. She always wants others to do shit for her, so that she doesn't have to budge. I usually ignore her when she ask me to do shit for her...
Anyway, after work - a short day - Stan - boss #1 - took us out to lunch. We went to a very nice Mexican restaurant on 'the island' - the town of Alameda, which is adjacent to Oakland, but like another world; ie no ghettos.
But - I jump ahead of myself. A group went in Stan's vehicle, and the rest of us went in Boss #2's car. We only had a short walk to the parking lot, and I and Boss #2 were walking ahead. The head cashier walked with Big Momma...who had to stop walking after a bit as she was winded from walking up a very short, very small incline to some steps. Then it took her forever to get down the steps. Then she complained about having to walk. I wanted to smack her upside the head and tell her that she needed to walk as much as possible, and stop eating 24/7, but I kept my mouth shut. The bitch in me then said 'Damn - if it takes her this long to walk a few feet, how is she going to cross the street to the lot before the light changes?'...It took a LONG time. Boss #2 and I rearranged stuff in the car, so she could fit in. She sat in the front seat, but couldn't use the seatbelt. The boss said that she'd make her car drag if she sat in the back - it's happened before.
The short drive to the restaurant went off without a hitch. My bitch button focused on the slow-witted dishwasher, Jay. None of us expected - or wanted - him around, but Boss #1, being a cool, inclusive guy, invited the slug. The boss was paying, after all.
He began to have second thoughts though when Jay wore his huge headphones at the table, humming and stuttering along to whatever music he was listening to. I wanted to shove a fork in his forehead. Dorsa - a really cool chick who works in the bistro - looked at me and said "Oh damn - I need tequila. This is going to be painful." Stan and I laughed. Boss #2 was fed up, and told Jay to turn off the music and remove the headphones. He turned off the music, but kept the headphones on, being short of a few cards in his deck. It also took him forever to order, and he kept asking for stuff that wasn't on the menu, and not Mexican...good grief.
A few here on VR know how much bad table manners irk the hell out of me. I was 'irked' three times, to put it mildly.
When the food arrive, I - and others - had to endure mildly annoying manners from Big Momma - who tried to eat elegantly, but kept dropping food down her shirt, on the table, floor, etc, with her messy fingers, heavy breathing and occasional smacking...bad table manners from Jay, whose face was almost in his plate - his headphones slipped once, into his plate. He wiped them off, put them back on, then stuck his face into his plate again; and surprisingly, there were really horrid table manners from the order guy, Brad. This guy was messy, reaching across my plate to take Dorsa's napkin, spitting bits of food back in his plate, and being a general pig. Of course, he was sitting right across from me. I wanted to shove a fork into his forehead too.
Stan - Boss #1 - had a look of disgust on his face, while glaring at Jay and Brad. He then told Dorsa and I that he wouldn't want to dine with a few at the table ever again...niiiice.
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