Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Children in the Workplace

I had dinner at Panera today...I LOVE Panera. If you don't have one near you, well then you have my sympathies. And if you DO, but have not gone, then shame on you. Get thee to a Panera!
Sadly, my dining experience was soured. By the girl helping me. (And I use the term loosely.) Let me give you a little recap...

Wait FAR too long, considering I am the only customer in line. Make my infamous "You can't REALLY be this stupid, can you??" face. (She was standing there, with two other employees and a manager, taking the order of yet another employee. Why, you ask, did it take a total of five Panera Bread employees to do the job of one? I have no earthly idea.) Am finally noticed and asked if I am ready to order. Uh, yeah. Get the distinct impression that she is there for Panera's "Bring Your Child to Work" Day or some such nonsense. Accidentally order the wrong item--the names are really similar, give me a break--which requires her to void first item. Void does not work. Watch as she presses the button 47 or 48 times--Most Effective Method Ever! What, that didn't do the trick? You're kidding! Toddler mumbles in the general direction of other employees that she needs help, and surprisingly nobody hears her. Sigh. Pull the face. Realize I pulled face. Remember that new readers can easily get confused by unfamiliar words. Put on happy face. Am accused of being fickle, as help arrives. Restrain self from jumping over counter, getting own food, and putting employee in a time-out. Pull face again.

I won't even discuss the incident not two minutes later, when I was getting a drink and she had to refill the straws--right in front of me, opening a cabinet door on my legs and being in my way, all without saying a single word. You know, like, "excuse me" or any of those Polite Words your parents should have taught you. I guess she'll learn them when third grade starts next week.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Blackhole?

Dear Bloomington Indiana,
You're a fairly large city. 70,000 people. Well done. You've got yourself a nice university, with 40,000 students, I hear? 7th largest city in Indiana. That's right, I googled your ass. With good reason. My BFF is a grad student at your university. And I'd like to visit her. She's pretty bitter right now, and there is no way I can pass up the opportunity to share in this time. She has started swearing, even! It took me 5 years to corrupt her this much, and I would like to witness the fruits of my labor. So I figured it'd be easy enough, being a large city AND home to a college campus--and therefore home to college students wanting to get home. I've done the college town thing; I know how it is. I was 2 minutes from a bus station, 20 from a train station, and 45 from an airport. Dammit, getting to a boat wouldn't have been this hard!
So please help me out: why is it that it's PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE to get myself to Bloomington unless I drive, which I won't?
Just curious.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Monday, August 27, 2007

I'm baaaaaaack..........

Hey kids...I'm finally back! I know what you must be thinking--I was away for so long; I never wrote, I never called; you felt abandoned. But that's because you're needy. Sorry, baby, but the truth hurts. Anyway, I have returned from summer camp and then some unexpected family things.
Summer camp was incredible. Almost too much fun for this bitter lady. But the good news is that some of the campers were in relationships, and I did get to break up my fair share of PDAs. And you know there are few things I enjoy more. I mean, how great is that--I was shining flashlights on kids, or starting a loud song right next to them, or giving them a big awkward hug--and it was ENCOURAGED! If you can think of a more perfect summer, I invite you to try.
After my scheduled return, I had some bad and good family stuff going on. Brother came home for a visit--I'll let you decide which category that falls under.
Fortunately, grandma is back from her hospital stay, with her usual feisty attitude. Nice to have her back, even if that does mean she asks me when I'm going to get married and offers me some of her coffee because, "with something in your mouth, maybe you'll stop talking." She's a sassy lady, and I've always liked that about her. Can't imagine why...

For the record, if you wear silly sunglasses, you have a greater chance of getting put on television when you're at a baseball game. How I know this is not important. Keep it in mind, though.