Where I’m NOW stationed, is right behind, what seems like, a medium sized book shelf piled with documents.  On the other side of said medium sized book shelf, is the entrance to the Public Information Office, where two Information Specialists will perch themselves, diving the time spent up there amongst everyone, and deal with people that walk in.

I’m not sure if people know this, but there are a lot of very strange people out there.  And a lot of them seem to reside in the D.C. Metropolitan Area.  And about a handful of them walk into this office on a daily basis. 

Since I was sitting in a different office, I wasn’t able to really experience some of the people that walked in.  But now that I’m sitting right by the entrance, I can hear the ramblings some of the people go on and on about.  And some of them are just….great.

One of the tasks that goes with my job is I give people walkthroughs of our online system either on the phone, or when they walk in.  We usually get three breaks through-out the day; a 30-minute morning break, 1-hour lunch break, and a 30-minute afternoon break.

I was on my 30-minute afternoon break,  but really, I don’t need 30 minutes.  I need just about enough time to go downstairs and smoke a cigarette.  On my way back up, there’s a gentleman sitting at one of the front desks, talking to my co-worker Nona*.  She asked me “Are you on your break?” to which I replied “I don’t have to be”.  It’s always better to look good instead of pick your break over a client.

This man was probably in his mid to late 40′s, and dressed like he owned a very large ranch somewhere.  I’m talkin’ rich guy missin’ a cowboy hat.  His hair was slicked back, and dyed blonde, and he was probably about 5″6.  His suit was orange.

Actually, an easier way to describe him would be to ask anyone if they remembered those wolves from the Looney Toons cartoons?  The ones that were part of the mafia usually, and howled at women like Jessica Rabbit?  That’s what his suit reminded me of.

Nona points to the gentleman and tells me that he wishes for a walkthrough in person.  He takes one look at me, then looks at Nona, and exclaims “I hit the jackpot!”.  She giggled.  I felt awkward, and nervously giggled myself.

We start walking over to the computer, and we hear him say “I can’t even pay for this kind of help.” 

K….

So we sit down, and I tell him politely, and professionally that we will start by creating a user name.  He looks at me again, and then asks if I dance.  I lied.  I said I did not dance.  He accused me of lying because “the moment you walked in my eyes popped out of my head”. 

I kept on driving.  “Put your name here, sir…”

Throughout the entire walkthrough, his comments became more and more frequent.  What was worse about it was that at one point the website froze.  So we had to start again.  Awesome.  That much longer to deal with Prince Charming.

He starts telling me about his book.  Which, in all honesty, seemed like a very interesting read.  His theory and concept was very intriguing, and it actually caught my attention. 

He used to be a dancer, and he asked if I knew what the golden ratio was.  To which I replied that I didn’t, and he continued to explain to me what that was.  After he finished his lecture on the golden ratio, it was on to discuss about how it applies to people and dancers, because of spirals.  According to him, or maybe others, nothing can be a spiral unless it was MEANT to be a spiral.

All fair and dandy.  If his theory is correct, and if USED correctly, it could help people as they get older in relations to arthritis, joint problems, back problems because you essentially, learn to walk in a way where your body is floating ( I know this sounds pretty bizarre.  Believe me.).

If I was drinking water when he told me what else it could help, I would have spit it on him.

“Also, it really enhances the orgasm.”

I’m so glad that you’ve told me that here.  At my office.  Where I work.  As a professional.

Let’s get real for a minute here.  I get that most companies, and most business owners are impressed by a strong sense of confidence coming from the young individual searching for employment in their areas.  It’s a good thing! Look at how proudly they walk, they have no shame in anything because they know they can do whatever it is that they want to, and they can do it well.

But there’s a difference between knowing you can do something well, and knowing you can do something well.  For instance, do not go up to your interviewer (which sometimes so happens to be the boss of the division) and tell him what changes need to be made in the company.  If these changes are made, then you’ll think about working with them.  

….

Well, please, your highness, I wouldn’t want you to do us any favors.  I mean, it would be honor to have a low-jack like you working in a prestigious company.  What were we thinking?  Get the CEO on the phone.  He needs to meet this guy.

I knew a guy like that.  I knew a guy who with every job interview he’d botch, he’d botch  because he would tell the interviewer what sucks about their company and what they can do to improve it.  Even though he was usually only applying to be a technician.

Another way to prove your arrogance, although small and insignificant, is showing to the world that on Facebook, we’re lucky enough to be able to subscribe to you now.  Because you know, you lead such an exciting and hectic life working at Panera bread, AND having a few photo shoots taken in your backyard.  This makes you a professional model.  Calvin Klein STILL hasn’t called you?! Also, that band that you’ve assembled at the age of 24 that still practices in the garage is doing wonders for you, isn’t it?  I’m surprised you haven’t received a platinum album yet. 

I can understand people being able to subscribe to people like George Clooney, and Robert Downey Jr., but you?! Hop off that high horse of yours.  You’re not all that great.

And last but certainly not least, I’m sure all of you ladies have run into this guy.

“Hey baby, what are you doin’ for the rest of the evenin’?” Wink, wink.  Kiss kiss.

Well, then Casanova, I was thinking finishing my drink with my girls, but now that you’ve approached, let me just drop my panties. I’ve always wanted to tell my future children the story of how I met their father.  “Well, your father called me baby and I just melted right there.  That was the night we conceived you!”

I actually have a real problem with guys doing this.  It really irks me.  So, you think you’re going to get my number and get some because you had the decency to come up to me and call me baby and not ask for my name?  Really?  And does that work?  And if so, do you find yourself a respectable woman?

I didn’t think so.

The reaction would be completely different if it was the same guy and he walked up and said something different.  Maybe start a random conversation, or even ask for my name.

Can people please start seeing the difference between confidence and arrogance?  It’s not that difficult to steer clear of that little, white line that separates the two. 

Oh, bless our little hearts as a society.

The Rules:

1. Link the person who tagged you.
2. Mention the rules on your blog.
3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged.

1. I eat chicken in the strangest way.  I’m not joking.  If I eat chicken, the bone will be clean.  Nothing will be on it.  I eat the shit out of that grissel. 

2. If you take me anywhere like a zoo, a museum, or an aquarium (especially an aquarium), I will either exclaim the random exhibit we just so happen to be passing, or bring up a random fact about them, or both.  For instance, I went to the Baltimore Aquarium this weekend, and they have a nice shark exhibit (which I’ve already explained my love for marine life), and they had a bull shark.  So I pulled and tugged on my man’s sleeve, exclaiming “Bull shark.  Bull shark! BULL SHARK!” and then when we approached the glass for a closer look, out of nowhere, I decide to let him know that the bull shark has the highest testerone level of any other animal on this planet.  He tells me it was a good story, and we proceeded along with our day.

3. I have a love/hate relationship with winter.  I hate the cold.  I hate the dryness.  I hate shivering.  I hate ice.  I hate the cold.  I know I already said that, but I hate it so much it needs to be said twice.  BUT.  I love Christmas.  I get excited about Christmas coming in September.  I love New Years.  I love snow.  And I love the way D.C. looks during the winter time at night.  With the lights lit up, and all the trees have little christmas decorations on them, and then of course, the ginormous tree they light every year stands out so intensly.  I love it. 

4. Although I liked, and still do like living in a city, I also have a high regard and love for nature.  I have a hard time deciding if I ever want to live in a city like London again, or just go off and find a little cottage in Ireland away from it all.

5. I have a serious problem with people touching my nose.  I don’t know why, I don’t know what it is, but I honestly cannot stand it when people touch my nose.  I pull my head away from any finger coming near it, like it was a fly in the face.  Or I swat it away, like a fly in the face. 

6. I have a phobia.  Like, a legit phobia.  It’s not me over-reacting, although everyone else thinks so, I’m not over thinking it, and I have every reason to be scared of wasps.  I hate them.  I hate them so much.  I am terrified of them.  You will never see me run faster than you will see me running away from a wasp.  And it’s not just wasps.  It’s bees, too.  And hornets.  Anything in relation, or any kind of variation of those three species, I freak out.  I literally freak out.  I am being constantly ridiculed for it.  People tell me to just stand still, and they will go away.  That is not fucking true.  That is not fucking true, at all.  They stay, and they linger, and they plan.  They will eat my face.  I hate them.

And yet, I don’t want them to be killed when they are around me.  I feel bad for them when someone tries to swat at them with a newspaper.  I don’t want them dead.   I just want them the fuck away from me.

And yet for some odd reason, this morning, I had the hardest time waking up.  This is one of those “you know it’s going to be a bad day when…” kind of situations.  And it’s always little things, too.  It’s always these insignificant annoyances that just get in your way.  You’ll realize you’re frustrated when you skip a part of your morning routine, or in my case, a morning routine that just started two days ago.  But still, you’ll notice very quickly how frustrated you really are.

Having a hard time waking up is one thing.  But then, with my eyes still practically closed, I turn on my shower, and wait for the water.  The stupid shower curtain was constantly knocking things over.

Can I ask people something? I don’t live by myself yet, but if a shampoo bottle runs out of shampoo, do you not throw it away?  Does one not promptly take that empty bottle, and toss it right in the trash can?  Can one not comprehend this simple task?  Because, you see, if you don’t do that, you’ll end up with a pile of different empty bottles, all of which serve absolutely no purpose in continuing residing on your bathtub/shower side.  All it does is constantly fall over INTO the tub, where then someone else, one that does not own these empty shampoo bottles, has to constantly reach down and pick it up.  And no matter where it is put, it constantly falls.  I know this is a tiny thing to get irritated with but when you didn’t want to wake up to go to work in the first place, are grumpy from the night before, and you can’t seem to find YOUR filled shampoo bottle amongst the plethora of empty shampoo bottles that keep toppling over because the shower curtain moved slightly, then this insignificant problem turns into one giant ARRRRGGGHHHHHHH!!!!

But it’s fine.  I through the rest of my morning routine, and I was ready to  be out the door by 7:45.  I still live with my mother, for the time being, and I love her dearly.  I really do.  And believe it or not, there is an almost drastic difference in traffic by so much as five minutes.  Seriously.  The amounts of times I’ve left for work at 7:45 A.M. vs something like 7:50-8:00, and how much lighter the traffic is at 7, is amazing.

Today I wanted to be out of the house by 7:45.  And I run into my mother who starts telling me I should change my pants.  No, really, it will take like, five minutes.  I don’t have time.  It’s 7:46, now and I still need to get the crap out of my brother’s car so that I can park my car in the garage.  By the time I drop his keys off again, it will be 7:48, and by the time I start my car, it will be roughly 7:50.  I’m very anal about my timing when it comes to traffic.

So I ended up leaving the house at 7:50, which annoyed me.  And I could have taken an alternate route that would have gotten me to my primary destination, and avoided traffic, but it would probably have taken just as long if I had simply stood in traffic.  I WAS WRONG.

I should taken the alternate route because it would have gotten me to work in about 40 minutes.  10 minutes longer than it usually takes for me to get to work (depending on how fast I’m going, and how early it is in the morning).  It took me over an hour to get into work today.  Which now means that I have to stay here for a little bit longer to make up for lost time.  Which is annoying.  Very annoying.

Not only is it annoying that I have to continue working past everyone else, but also because the traffic will be fucking horrendous AGAIN. 

I’m going through Rosslyn next time.

I think there are two big parts to it. The first part is straight up laziness. To the point of forgetting. I forget that I have a blog, and I forget that I feel like updating. The other part is I feel like I don’t have anything of significance to write about. I mentioned this in a previous post, and I do look at other people’s blogs and they write about the most insignificant stuff. So what’s stopping me? Somehow, their writing is still interesting to read. I’m not saying that my sole purpose behind blogging is to entertain a crowd, but those blogs inspire me in a way where as a writer, I should be able to write about little things and somehow make them sound interesting. Plus, I have a habit of looking back at my old entries and watching myself grow. So even the most unimportant things can be interesting to read, just so I can compare myself on how a particular event affected me then, to how it affects me now.

I wonder how many other people do that.  While others delete their old blogs in order to forget the memories that they feel ashamed or stupid about, I’m sure I’m not one of the only people who has kept her old blog (mind you I can’t remember their passwords half the time) just to remind myself of how much I’ve changed these past few years.  I do the same thing with diaries.  I have about 7 diaries at home, and every time I go through them, I remember what I felt back then, and how miniscule it is to me now.

The next time I get so worked up over nothing at all, maybe I should take a look at those and remind myself that in a few years time, it won’t make a damn difference.

That’s fine.  Maybe there was just some kind of error, and it obviously posted since I clicked PUBLISH.  Nope.  I return to my blog, and nada.  This has happened to me before, as I’m sure it’s happened to anyone who’s blogged, or written a paper, or a report.  At that current moment, there is nothing more annoying in the world then losing everything you just wrote.

SO let me start a-fucking-gain.

My friend recently posted pictures up on Facebook of when he visited South Africa.  A few of these pictures consisted of a Great White Shark by a boat that he was on.  And for those of you who don’t know, I have a complete and total fascination with marine life.  Including the sharks.

I can’t remember when my passion for it started.  Maybe it was when I saw a dolphin for the first time on T.V. on the Discovery Channel.  Or maybe it was when I watched Shark Week for the first time.  Or maybe it was when I went to the beach and for the first time in my life, I saw real dolphins, jumping in the distance against a setting sun.  I can’t quite pinpoint which of these events suddenly struck a interest in me that has stayed since.  All I do know is that I was no younger than 8 years old.  And now at the age of 24, I’m still as fascinated, if not more, by what the ocean provides.

I’m sure everyone has seen an episode of “Friends” here and there.  And if they have, then I’m sure everyone knows about Ross, the lovable, nerdy friend who works as a paleontologist at the Natural History Museum of NYC.  Do you all remember whenever he would talk about what he did at work that day?  Or what findings his co-workers found that he was excited about?  Or what programs he watches on the National Geographic Channel?  And do you remember how his friends reacted?  Rolling eyes, constant criticism?

Am I one of the only people out there who actually found what he was discussing fascinating myself?  It was probably mainly because I felt like I could relate to Ross.  Because in that scenario, I’m just like him.  The amounts of times I’ve sat there and tried to discuss with my friends how incredibly intelligent the Orca is(along with other members of the dolphin family, and yes it is a dolphin), or how badly I want to go cage diving with a Great White Shark, Bull Shark, or Tiger Shark, or how the majesty of a Humpback Whale can’t be anything less than breathtaking, and they have all responded with rolling eyes and criticism is almost unbelievable.

So when I saw these pictures my friend posted, my jealousy grew to ridiculous levels.  I expressed my envy to me, and he responded with how he was going to post up more pictures of him IN the water.  With the shark.

Wait a second…did you fucking go cage diving?!

Aye.  He did.

Now, I was under the impression that doing a dangerous activity such as cage diving with a Great White Shark, you needed a scuba diving license, experience, and various other things that could allow you to do that.  Apparently, and if I am wrong then may I retract it, you don’t.  Apparently, you need an expert, someone to take you out there, and a cage.

Because of my original impression, I thought that this was just another dream that I could toss out the window.  Apparently, not.  Apparently this dream can come flying right back through that same window, and stay tucked away in a box until it’s time for it to be released.  This news has sparked new plans for me now.  This is going to happen for me.

As big as my love for marine biology is, I’ve never done anything about it.  I fucked up too much in High School, and I don’t have any kind of money to do anything about it now.  But I’m quite happy where I am in my life without having done anything about it when it comes career choices.  But if I can’t become anything having to do with it, then maybe I can go on a few adventures that allow to  be at least participate in some of the action.

Cage Diving?  Great White?  This will happen for me.

This is exciting to me. I’ve already found a bunch of documentaries that I plan on watching, or rather, listening to before the day is over.

Clash of the Gods sounds freakin’ amazing.

No, but seriously, the Westboro Baptist Church is ridiculously insane.
——————–

Tomorrow, I travel to Rohobeth beach with a group of friends so that we may finally enjoy some beach time. I’m more excited about this than I am about the documentaries.

And of course, I have this little image in my head where it might be close to perfect. Only because it’s away from where I am, and it’s close to the one place that fascinates me the most; the ocean.

Almost like the music video for Boys of Summer by DJ Sammy should be based on this particular day.

Ever since I went on a spontaneous trip to Atlanta to clear my head, I’ve noticed how much spontaneous trips actually help someone. Being too stressed with everything makes one forget that yes, you are allowed to take a break. And I’m not saying that I NEED a break, but wanting one is okay, too. So Saturday, off to Rohobeth beach with my friends. I doubt the water will be warm enough for me to actually swim and take my chances of being attacked by a shark, or running into a dolphin, but meh, treading my feet and walking along the shoreline is good, too.

I decided to help out with the driving, even though my car has way too many miles on it even consider. But I keep hearing the same thing from everyone. “It’s a Toyota. You’re fine.”

Is it, though, people? Is it fine? If my car breaks down, I’m going to make any one who went on that trip to pay for the damages. Probably not, but I expect a full scale support system that will ultimately lead to my forgiving them for believing them. I think that’s a lot more of a realistic request.
——————-

In other pointless topics, I was under the impression that I was never going to be able to afford my own apartment with the pay I’m on and the bills I have to pay now. And with my plan on studying marine training, I would definitely have no money for ANYTHING.

But considering that this online course in marine training was costing more than my University in London did, and there much cheaper options out there that I have found, it turns out that my mother helped me with some calculations and apparently, I can get myself an apartment and study all at the same time.

This is why I love my mother. Granted she can be overbearing and sometimes it feels as if I’m 16 again, but when I need help in something I have no knowledge in, she’s so quick to step in. Most of the time take over, but this time, I’m not going to complain.

If I were able to get my own apartment, finally, I would be a happy bunny. And speaking of happy bunnies, I would get one. A little holland lop bunny. Ever since I saw a video on Youtube of a sleeping baby Holland Lop bunny, I have wanted one.

I had to talk to Jeanette about this because my whole life I have said that I do not want to get animals when I get older. I don’t want pets, not because I don’t love animals, but because I couldn’t handle it when they died. She has been trying to explain to me that it’s just something I would have to go through. I would have to go through death. She loves her dog more than anything else in the world, and she’s very aware she’s going to pass on someday. But that doesn’t give her any feeling of regret for purchasing her.

Regardless, I want a bunny. And if it was a girl, I would totally name her Kairi. Because I’m a video game dork. I’m still thinking of a boy name, but it would have to be that of a video game character. Maybe Terra.

Either way, I feel like updating.

And it’s been awhile since I updated.  I mean a real while.  Last time I updated I was still with my ex.  That seems so long ago.  Either way, updating in an old blog will probably be good for me.

I tried to create a new blog, as I usually do every year or so after abandoning the previous blog in which I would update.  Pretty sure this here is my third blog.  And now, like above, I’m asking myself why I decided to go back to this one?  Could it be that maybe I over-dramatized everything when it came to the mistakes I made, and ranted on and on about it in my “new” blog and was only using it as a source of anger?  Or could it be that I forgot my password and the e-mail address that I used to register it?

Both.  I looked back at some of the entries in this blog, and quite frankly, I ranted, yes, but it was all in good fun.  I was never really all that mad.  If anything, the irritation was so mild that the reason I wrote about it in the first place was for a laugh.  This “new” blog though, (albeit only making three or so entries) was used for a purpose of extracting any anger I had towards anything particular going on in my life at that moment.  And if I am to look back at those entries, if anything, I just feel so….stupid.

I’ve looked at other blogs.  People update about pointless things in their lives.  And they do it because they can.  Because the question “why not?” comes into play.  So why can’t I?  Must I only update about the things that are pissing me off that day?

Instead, I’m going to try and keep up with this blog a little better.  Sure, I probably will update about something that has irritated me, but as an experiment to myself, why not weight out how many good experiences and bad experiences I have?  And truth be told, I shouldn’t feel the need to broadcast all over the world how angry I am, when whatever I’m pissed off about, won’t matter in a couple of weeks.  And I know, I know, I’ve had this epiphany at least 800 times.  I’m going to actually try sticking to it this time.  I think it would do me some good.

SO, with that being said, I would like to introduce my first pointless topic of the day: Shoes.

I was never a shoe girl.  In fact, I’m really not all that girly.  That’s not to say that I’m not girly at all.  Don’t get me wrong, I wear make up, I dress up when I feel like it, I prefer skirts to pants.  But those skirts are long.  Like dragging behind me long.  Hippie skirts, as people have so lovingly called them.  I look girlier than I am.  I like to pretend I am really girly though, but I don’t do half the things my girl friends do when it comes to their physical appearance.  I was perfectly content with living with a good five pairs of shoes.  Sneakers, Ugg boots, sandals, and two pairs of high heels.

That was until my mother met her friend Chris.  Chris loves to shop.  I hate to shop.  I like to spend money! But I hate shopping.  Well, my mother told her what kinds of shoes I like, which yes, the majority of them are high heels.  And now, Chris, for some odd reason cannot stop buying me adorable high heels.  And wedges.  Granted, I pay her back for every single one of them, but she gets discounts at these places and these shoes are adorable, as are these.  I’ve been trying to figure out a place to wear them.  I also received another pair which I am currently wearing, and as much as I would love to brag about them, I really cannot be bothered to take my shoes off, whip out my phone, and go through the “tiring” process of taking a picture, posting it on Photobucket.com and then linking them.  But trust me, they’re cute, too.

——————————

I have a pretty obsessive personality sometimes.  If I find something I thoroughly enjoy, I’ll probably obsess about it for the next few weeks.  Like a dress, or the style of hats (which I’m currently in now), or the thought of returning to London, or some other rather irrelevant thing.  And the truth of the matter is, I hate it.  I hate how obsessed I get with things, even if I love it.  I hate loving something that much because it makes me feel stupid and insane.  And I can’t wait to get out of it.

Every year or so, my favorite singer, comedian, band, actor/actress changes.  When it comes to bands, I must say, the Goo Goo Dolls held strong as number one on my personal chart for a good 7 or 8 years.  I absolutely LOVED them.  And after a couple of years or so, that LOVE turned into a very strong like.  I no longer obsessed but I still considered them my favorite band.  However, it’s changed this year.  This year it’s turned right to 30 Seconds to Mars.  And I’m still in the phase where I LOVE them. And I can’t wait till that phase dies down to a strong like.

I’m very aware of the drastic change of music style that is.  But my music taste varies so much that it’s almost not surprising.  I saw them on April 27th at the Patriot Center, which I thought would make my attraction to them die down.  I was wrong.  I was so wrong.  I have to give them a lot of credit for their performances.  Very energetic, very interactive with the crowd, and very good playing.  The whole band, in my opinion, knows how to put on a fucking good show.

And that’s not even mentioning how Jared Leto came off the stage and into the stands, right.  Where.  I.  Was.  But I did just mention that.  And I’m going to go ahead and brag about that.  Yeah.  Jared Leto was two feet away from me.  Boom.  Next time, it’s all about the floor tickets.

———————–

I really can’t complain about the way things are at the moment.  I am pretty happy with my current job at the Library of Congress, I’m happy with my family, I’m happy with my friends.  There’s really not much more a girl could ask for.

Except for maybe a beach nearby.  I think a beach nearby would improve my life drastically, depending on the weather.

WordPress here counts how many words I’ve written since it last saved.  So far, I’m at 1,131.  I think it was when I was at University I wrote that much.

I’m trying to get back into writing.  I started writing a book something like two years ago.  And got up to Chapter 7 and got writer’s block.  I’ve recently opened up the file again, and decided that I need to change pretty much EVERYTHING.  Well, the little things that I consider decently important.  Like the settings, one particular character, as well as adding a few more, and their careers.  I was going to change a couple of characters names as well, but I rather like the name Jam.  My friend Samantha gave me the idea to call her that because of the two people in my life that she’s based off of; Jeanette and Sam.  Short for Jamie.

That’s one of the best things about writing your own story.  I mean, of course, as well with everything else, writing has rules and regulations that one must follow if looking to get published.  But even so, you make up your own world how you want it to be.  Every story I’ve written has been based off of someone I know.  Jam is based off of two people I know and am close with, and Constance (another character) is based off of my friend in England, George.

I should get back to writing that.  See where it goes.

Or I could go back to work.  Since that’s where I am.  I could do that, too.

I’ve been told many times that a strong trait that I possess is that I have a habit of switching from one topic to another with no warning whatsoever.  I really wonder if that’s true.

In my personal opinion, as a boss, it is much more effective to tell your employee that they are doing something wrong in a calm manner.  If this person needs a disciplinary, there’s always a calm way around it, not “Oh for fuck’s sake, I can’t believe you could have fucked up this royally.” If a manager says something like “listen mate, I’m sorry, but you’ve messed this up before, and I’m going to have to give you a disciplinary.”  That way, the boss gains the respect from their CO-WORKERS.  At the end of the day, their employees are also their co-workers, and deserve to be treated as such.  I also understand that many managers don’t care whether or not they receive respect from their co-workers, as long as their co-workers get their job done at the end of the day.  They feel that as long as they do that, they are free to  yell at them, be rude to me, all around treat them like they are lower beings and judge them for being so.

Frankly though, if a manager is under a company, as some pubs are, then the company that owns them should probably be aware of the way some of their employees are treated by their manager.  I know for a fact, that without a professional attitude, a pub company can discipline whoever, however they want for that little reason.

Anyway, back to the story at hand, and please, feel free to disagree with me if you think it is completely legit that she spoke to her employee like this.

First of all, let me start out that as I write this, I’ve seem to come down with some sort of cold.  Heavily.  This morning, I woke up and couldn’t breathe through my nose at all.  I went to sleep feeling the same way.  My throat felt odd and yadda yadda yadda, I’m sure you’ve all had a cold before.

It started out about two days ago.  You know when you just feel it coming on? I knew I was going to end up sick.  But the next day, I thought I felt fit enough to go to work and work my ass off serving prestigious assholes, perverted horndogs, and over-pretentious mothers.  Earlier that morning, we had a table of 50, which I was not there for.  But apparently, because of how little my G.M. helped, and how much my assistant manager (A.M.) had to work, EVERYONE was grumpy.  I will give my G.M. credit because she was working in the kitchen all day (I was shocked to find out that she even got up and did some work).

But I got there, and got right to cleaning the pub up because quite frankly, it was a state.  I had to do tables, glasses, serve, run food, clean, all at the same time, and I only finished cleaning up right before it was time to start closing up.

I had spoken to my A.M. throughout the night, and she had asked on numerous occasions if I was feeling alright.  I told her I was feeling ill, and it was getting progressively worse, which I can only assume it hit me so hard because I was working.

I usually have Mondays off.  So I was looking forward to a day of lying in, blowing my nose every ten seconds, and at least starting my final work for University that’s due next week.  Considering I haven’t had time to start because of my constant shift from work and Uni, I was quite pleased.

Now, my G.M. comes out of the kitchen, and doesn’t ask me if I can work tomorrow, like any other normal manager would.  She doesn’t ask me, she TELLS me, I am working tomorrow from 12 to 5.

So that’s fine.  I didn’t say anything, but I continued on with my job.  My A.M. asked how I was feeling and I told her the honest truth; I felt a bit rough.

She kindly tells me “Look, if you feel sick, then just go to tell Kaz that you can’t work tomorrow.  Honestly, she’ll appreciate it more if you tell her that now rather than you call her up at 11.30 tomorrow morning and tell her.  This way she has time to find more people to cover you.  You just don’t want to let her down“

And this was true.  I didn’t want to let anyone down.  So I walked into the kitchen, and said to her pretty much the same thing.  “Listen, Kaz, I don’t know if it’s a good idea that you put me on shift tomorrow.  Truth is, I haven’t been feeling well today, and I don’t want to let you down tomorrow because I don’t know how I will be feeling in the morning.“

Her response?

“Aw, for fuck’s sake.  Fine, fine, whatever, whatever.”

I was a bit shocked at her reaction, and I turned around to walk away.  But this wasn’t the end.  She then proceeded to yell, across the kitchen for everyone to hear:

“And d’you know what, Lily?  If you feel that fucking bad, then you can just fuck off home now! Go tell Catty!“

I was so shocked by this.  I walked out to the bar, and just stood there for a couple of seconds.  Catty, which if you haven’t guessed yet is my A.M.  comes up to me, asks if I’m okay, and I tell her what happened.  Her response was “welcome to my world“.

Honestly, I could have let this go if it was just her losing her cool this ONE TIME.  But it’s not.  Catty’s response lead me to believe that Kaz treats Catty like this all the time, which just isn’t fair.

Let me also make clear that I have not ONCE done anything to make her think that I could be faking, which is exactly what she thinks.

Catty defended me, bless her.  She went in there, and Kaz says “I’ve just been informed that Lily is feeling ill.  Why is she still here?“

To which Catty replied with:

“Look, she’s been saying she’s been feeling ill all day, so it’s not like you told her to work,and she came up with an excuse not to.  I’m calling Sam right now to see if she can cover her shift, so stop taking your anger out on her.” and she walked out.

But it honestly got me considering to notify Greene King about the way she treats her employees and for many other things she does that I don’t quite know if she is allowed to do.  I’m not the only person she speaks to like that.  She used to take our tip money out of the tip jar and put it into the tills if they were down.  She doesn’t now.  Now, we are each individually assigned our own tills.  But this is another thing I don’t know if it’s allowed.  She makes us COUNT those tills, on the bar, in public view, then if any money is missing, we have to pay for it out our own pocket money.  On busy or slow days, the majority of the time, she sits and does nothing, or plays on her computer whilst eating or drinking.  She’s just a horrible manager.

I was already thinking of notifying Greene King before, but now with the full on experience as to how she treats her employees, I have a damn right mind to call them up and tell them to sort their lives out.

I don’t want Kaz to lose her job.  I would never wish that upon anyone especially with the current recession.  I just wish she knew that all the things she does are completely wrong, and shouldn’t be done.