I Am a World-Class Team Member!

I’ve been wearing my boxers backwards all day.  I guess it’s one of the dangers of getting dressed in the dark.  I spent the whole day afraid that I’d reach up too high, and my shirt would rise up, showing the world just how lazy I can be.
For I first noticed my mistake washing my face before going to work.  I didn’t want to spend all that time it would take to remove my shoes and fix the faus pax.  Priorities are priorities; proper dress is no longer one of mine.

Almost three years into the job, and it’s amazing the types of occupational hazards I’m still discovering.

“I hate coming in at six [o’clock],” she said, racing through the parking lot.  “Working in the morning sucks!”

I could only smile and offer my silent condolences.  All I had for a reply was, “I’ve been wearing the same clothes for the past two days.” 

Somehow it didn’t seem all that appropriate at the time.  I mean, would she pick up on my own attitude towards our work through said statement?  Or would she just think I’m incredibly dirty?  Perhaps both?  Does it even matter?

Truth be told, I enjoy working early in the morning.  That way our positions would have been switched; I’d be leaving and she’d be arriving.  I guess the anti-union video was right, I really am a world class team member!

Two kids entered my line today; their nervous gait managed to throw my entire rhythm off.  How nervous were they?  They were particularly doing the pee dance while waiting to buy a home pregnancy test.  Neither could have been a day over sixteen.  Seventeen tops.

“Nervous” is, of course, a total judgment call.  Body language being one of those “eye of the beholder” areas.  Frankly, it’s tough enough reading someone’s body language when they’re not in the process of buying items related to sex.  That ups the ante to amazingly uncomfortable levels. 

Prime example: the boy’s reading of the tabloid magazines while waiting.  Is he trying to avoid the statement he’s making by buying a home pregnancy test?  Or is he really interested in the current state of J. Lo’s (reportedly failing) marriage?  It’s hard to tell; one can’t talk about the future toddler forever.  At some point another topic is going to have to come up.

As I mentioned, this encounter threw me for quite the loop, especially at the end.  Normally I end transactions with the totally banal line, “Have a nice day!”  It’s become a (personal) challenge to see just how believable I can make it sound.  Sometimes the elusive “Have a great day!” line makes an appearance.  Usually on account of a particularly inspired purchase.  Picking up a pizza, a bottle of wine, and a tube of K-Y jelly in the express lane immediately comes to mind.

Today “Have a nice day!” just didn’t seem appropriate.  At best, if it did turn out to be a “nice day,” it would involve the ending of a life, however hypothetical it might have been.  At worst, these kids would be locked into a lifetime of servitude under a screaming, angry humanoid.  They’d spend their best years working to provide their spawn with the best.  In return, it’d tell them that it hates them when it reaches puberty. 

“Good luck!,” came to mind as a possible compromise.  It could be read by the kids either way.

I think I did use the “nice day” line.  Even though all parties concerned knew it was completely bullshit.


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