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Thanks to an odd scheduling quirk, I was able to enjoy three consecutive days off from URS. That’s not really important to the story, but you’ll be happy to I enjoyed spending time with The Wife and fixing my dead server. Or not.
My return to work was easygoing because I was refreshed. I joked with my colleagues and conversed with customers. Even something as minute as a roll of quarters provided interesting fodder.
“What do you need,” Maude1 asked me.
I opened my cash drawer. “The big thing is quarters. I could probably use some fives and ones, but quarters right now.”
“You made me come up here to get you quarters? You could have just called.”
“Yeah, but you would have had to come up here to get this,” I said as I handed her a $10 bill.
What might strike you as mindless dribble or a poor attempt at an interesting open is actually more significant than that. But give me a few minutes of your time before you rush to judgment.
A couple of old ladies walked in the door. I charmed them with a wisecrack about how much it was raining outside. Another customer walked . . . . .
A few weeks ago, I popped by URS on my day off. I needed some milk. It was close. Look, I don’t hafta justify myself to you. I needed stuff and they had it (man, I’m awful at writing intros). Even though it was my day off, a minor crisis was ensuing that caught my attention. One of the freezers had stopped working leaving about $300-worth of ice cream in perilous danger. The manager on duty and two crew member huddled around the freezer, trying to assess what to do. As they poked their heads around the appliance, I gave it a quick look. Not because I wanted to help URS, but I do enjoy fixing things. To me, it looked like the freezer wasn’t getting any power. The lights were all off. It made no sounds at all. And it was a balmy 58 degrees inside (while I am not an expert in the specifics of turning milk into ice cream, I’m fairly certain keeping it at a temperature under 58 degrees is involved).
“Did you check the circuit breakers,” I asked the manager. I’m pretty sure he heard me, but he seemed too focused on the state of . . . . .
Last week I was stocking canned goods when I heard a commotion near the entrance to the store. I would have gotten up to see what it was, but I was quite comfortable and, frankly, didn’t care. I only abandoned my task when the manager on duty, Maude, 1 found me: “Cindy said we just got robbed.”
That got my attention. “Huh?”
“Three or four people ran out of the store with baskets of alcohol and diapers.”
“Seems like an odd mix to me.” Even in crisis I can still maintain my sense of humor.
I followed the manager into the office. URS is equipped with cameras everywhere within the store. It’s something Loss Prevention does to prevent losses (lotta good it did in this case). Since I’m not management, this was this first time I had access to the surveillance eqipment. Maude didn’t know how to use the system because she wasn’t trained at it. Luckily I’m good with a computer and in ten minutes2 we were able to see video of the theft. It was a team of four. They came in and loaded hand baskets full of merchandise (mainly booze and diapers, but they also threw in . . . . .
I haven’t had much to be proud of lately. I work at a job that suits the financial needs of a teenager. I haven’t had a good haircut since 2008. I’m a burden on society and take more in government aid than I pay in taxes. But I can proudly proclaim I had a gas-free October. I filled up my gas tank on November 2nd. The last time I bought gas before that was September 23rd–meaning I did not buy gas for the entire month of October. Driving a highly fuel-efficient Honda played a big part in that, but I’ve had the car for almost four years and I’ve been getting 35 miles per gallon from the beginning. I was able to go six weeks in between fill-ups thanks to a perfect storm of events that left my car at home more often than not (no, it didn’t break down–it’s a Honda). Since I’m only taken one class, I only go to school once a week. October was filled with rainouts and byes, so I had only a couple softball games all month. And since work is a mere four-minute walk, it’d be wasteful to drive there. I typically go . . . . .
After cleaning the toilets and taking out the trash, I was called into the manager’s office at URS for my latest lesson in working for a directionless bureaucracy. The manager needed for me to read and sign a document. According to the manager I was doing something wrong at the register. Even though it pertained to me, I was not privy to get a copy of the actual document (company property) so I’m going to do my best to repeat the document the best to my recollection.
Violation: I, Sik Nerd have been made aware that the expected scan rate of SRT is 90 percent. As per company policy, employees must compile 90 when TPS offsets the MRN scan rate. My ASR for the week of October 10th was not 90 percent SRT. Resolution: Follow the guidelines and comply with the expected SRT and ASR. Follow-up: 1 month
Those acronyms probably seem foreign to you* and you’re not alone: I didn’t know any of them. It wasn’t just the acronyms–I found the entire document incompressible. It could have been a recipe for sushi or the biological formula to make liquid hydrogen: in either case, I couldn’t tell the difference.
. . . . .
Overused Movie Quote #27
Just when I thought I was out they pull me back in!
What movie is that from? I wanna say “Godfather Part III” but A) I’ve only seen it once and B) I find it hard to believe such a horrible movie would create such memorable and often repeated quote. I’m telling you, if only I put some research into my writing I might actually be good at this thing.
Speaking of which…I’m surprise how many people have contacted me regarding my announcement of semi-retirement. I had no idea that many people visited my site (gonna hafta find a new host because its web tracking statistics are way off–I must be getting dozens of hits). As I’ve stated many times, I never wrote for an audience. Writing is/was something that I regularly do for entertainment purposes (my entertainment–not yours). I did it for me because I enjoyed doing it. I started posting stuff online because I had stuff to post (that and for some reason I thought it would get me chiks). Maybe I do need to consider my audience because there are folks out there who actually care what I have to write.
Either that . . . . .
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