Sarcasm: Medicine for Stupid People

Since I became a teenager, and started to mature, my little girl tendencies began to fade into a slightly jaded, sarcastic persona.  The jaded aspect comes from certain events in my childhood and preteen years.  When my family used to go to a Latin mass, my older sister and I were friends with two other sisters from another family.  We had been ‘friends’ for a couple of years, when all of a sudden, both girls started ignoring us.  I later found out it was because our parents and their parents had a disagreement and they told their daughters not to associate with us anymore.  I was only a little girl, and I didn’t understand.  It hurt and made me a little bitter.  I became friends with another girl a few years later and one day, saw my old ‘friend’ trying to cut in on our conversation on the steps of the church after mass on Sunday.  I turned my back and got in between her and my new friend.  Without saying anything, I made my case very clear: she was not welcome.

We’ve gone to the same birthday parties over the years, and her and her younger sister have been invited.  When we play games (and I win), the younger one always challenges my win.  Once when she was really getting on my nerves, I said, “I would say something mean, but I’m afraid I’ll have to explain myself.”  That promptly shut her up and sent her scurrying back to her rat hole.

There was also another family at that church that didn’t like us.  The reason?  My sisters and I are prettier than them.  Not that hard to do when they all look like the Cabbage Patch babies grown up.  Needless to say, being in the same choir with them was an interesting experience.  They ignored us and we ignored them.  Sometimes, the eldest would do something to us, try to order us around.  My older sister kind of let her do it, but I wouldn’t.  Once, when we were at a party to say goodbye to our old choir director, and were heading up some stairs to a open second floor, she poked me between the ribs with her nail.  I stopped and took a step back, placing all my weight on her foot.  I turned and said, “Oh, were you there?  I hadn’t noticed.”  She left me alone after that.  She did something stupid that wouldn’t have gotten her anywhere.  But, I didn’t say she was smart.

Now, as I have said in the past, you play nice with me, I will play nice with you.  If I really like you, I will be your friend.  Cross me, and I will bury you.

And on that note, it’s been real!

 

Happy Place

This past weekend, there must have been an Idiot Special at our restaurant, because a lot of idiots showed up.  I was working overtime to not explode and kill somebody.  First off, somebody came up with the smart idea of placing our sign out in the atrium instead of behind me, where people ‘mysteriously’ manage to miss seeing it every time.  Now out in the atrium, I turn it around so that it says, ‘Please wait to be seated.’  It’s the first thing a person sees when they walk in.  And they still choose to ignore it.

The one question you don’t ask the person who is clearly the hostess is, “Can we just seat ourselves?”

“Oh, sure!  Go ahead!  It’s not like I have a job to do here or anything.”  That’s what I want to say at any rate.  The rate that this question was asked this weekend was phenomenal.  Everyone must have taken their stupid pills!  There were also a lot of large parties this weekend and that of course put us on a wait for tables.  Humans seem to have this nasty habit of challenging me when I tell them that we are on a wait.  “The wait for a table of four is half an hour.”

“Thirty minutes?!”

“Yes, thirty minutes.”

“Are you sure we can’t just squeeze in-?”

“Oh, yes!  I’m sure.”  People do that to me all the time, as if I’ll suddenly change my story.  I’d love to change the octave they’re currently talking at.  With a swift kick between the legs.  Then… there are the five tops.  I just don’t get it.  I can understand it if it’s a family with three kids; that makes sense.  But when it’s five friends out for the night, I’m kind of like, “Who wanted to be the fifth wheel?”  And then they try to finagle a table and add a chair, I’m like, “No.”

“But we can make it work,” they plead.

“And then you’ll complain to the server, and they’ll come up to me, saying you want to switch tables.  Not setting myself up for that, *sshole,” I say under the simple, “I don’t have an extra chair.”  I did actually have people I sat at a table when they were going to be three.  They were right by me at the front and when I came back to my post, the woman leaned over.

“Hey, I have a request,” she said.  I gave her the ‘really?’ look, but she continued, “Can you put us on your wait list for a table of… (has trouble doing basic math)… seven?  We invited some people over.”  Okay, first of all, that should have been the plan at the beginning of the evening, not a spur of the moment thing.  I know, sometimes a friend says they can’t come, then a few hours later, ask if they can come.  But, if you’re going to a restaurant and ask for a table for one number, then suddenly up that number on the hostess and your server, they are going to hate you.  Needless to say, I gave the woman an incredulous look and she just gave me a stupid smile.

“Okay… it’s going to be close to an hour,” I told her.  And I wasn’t just saying that to mess with her.  I was on a half hour wait for parties of four or smaller.  She was slapping me with a party of seven last minute.  But as for the picture overhead, the reason for that was because on that same night, I got a four top while I was in the middle of my long wait.  They wanted a low table for Grandma, and I gave them the wait.  They didn’t believe the wait time, and I had to tell them in a dumbed down version.  Finally, they said they would seat and in our lounge with a low coffee table and booth seats instead of regular chairs.  First, the one man came out and asked us to turn the fireplace on in there.  We still consider it sort-of summer in the restaurant business, and my manager was all against it.  Afterward, I just heard the server complaining about how needy and demanding they were.  When the ladies left, the two men stayed behind and grabbed my manager again.

“I don’t have a problem with you, but…” and everything before ‘but’ is bullsh*t.  My manager took them aside, defended our position and they left in a huff.  They did not acknowledge me when I told them to have a goodnight.

“And don’t let the door hit you in the *ss on the way out,” I mumbled to myself.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Because I Don’t

Remember when I said that I was going to have that talk with that stupid girl who pissed me off when I went into work on Tuesday night?  Well… that talk didn’t happen (yet).  The reason being was by the time I got there, my doctor had started a procedure and I didn’t want to miss anything.  I put my gloves, safety glasses, and mask on, and went right back to his operatory.  She was sitting at her side of the desk when I arrived, but I didn’t have the time to acknowledge her existence.

I came up to the front desk a little later to check to see if the next patient had arrived.  That was when I said hi to my former trainee, but ignored her.  I didn’t really have the time to talk her/was too happy to ruin my evening by talking to her.  After she left, I asked my trainee if she commented on my ignoring her.  She said that the stupid woman had asked if I was mad at her.  Really?  You haven’t been told yet?

I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that none of the girls have told her how she screwed up my plans and how pissed I was by that.  I am very surprised the tongues have not been wagging at the lunch table or in the chart room.  I guess everyone figured I wanted to be the one to burst her happy/naive bubble.  I wonder if she’ll try to corner me tonight when I come in?  Possibly.  She’ll ask if there is a problem between us, and I’ll have to explain in simple terms that… yes… there is in fact a problem.  I’ll interrogate her, ask her if anybody did whisper anything while I was gone, and if not, I’ll just shine the lamp in her face and do it myself.  If she gets upset by my honesty, then she can cry me a river and build a bridge over it.  Because the water isn’t under mine yet.

And on that note, it’s been real!

The Bitch Is Back!

Today is a big day for me, because after I’m done with school and my homework, I get to go back to my office for training/work this evening.  I will be happy to see my other doctor again and his assistant, because I consider them to be both my friends.  I know that my doctor is technically my employer, but before I left for school, he gave me a hug and thanked me for being such a good employee.  I may have mentioned that in a previous post.

Today, I get to see a few more people I haven’t seen in a little while (people who didn’t appear in the lower office when I dropped by last week).  But… that will also mean I will probably see HER.  That’s right, the woman who f*cked me over so she could go on vacation.  My manager will be gone tomorrow and for the rest of this week.  She is on a trip now.  I will probably see the insurance and billing person, and my one-time trainee will be the front desk person tonight.  I will be arriving just as that woman should be leaving.  I will not be the one to initiate first contact.  She will have to address me.  And, as I have said before, the conversation will not a pretty one.

Screw me once, shame on you; screw me twice, shame on me.  I should have spoken out against her going again, and I wound up paying for it.  Now, she’ll have to suffer the consequences of her own ill-begotten actions.

I probably won’t write about exactly what happened until Thursday.  That’s when our first meeting in detail will be posted.  I’m dreadfully curious to find out what she has to say for herself.  If she discovered how angry I was at her, and how I basically schooled the new girl to not help her out.  Hey, Fate is a cruel mistress, and Revenge an equally cruel master.  That’s just one of my many methodologies.

And on that note, it’s been real!

It’s Back to Work! On Labor Day?

Okay, first of all, this was not for Labor Day, this was for this past weekend when I went back to my restaurant after having been off for two weeks.  The first night was the night from hell, as I suspected it would be.  One of the servers was late, so she lost most of the tables in her section to everyone else.  We were down a person behind the bar, and then every living creature under the sun wanted to sit in every other spot but the one where I needed to put them.  I was basically running around like a mad person.  My head hurt, and my back ached terribly by the end of the night, and I only rewarded myself with one drink at the bar when it was all said and done.

On Saturday night, things were a little easier.  I was still mumbling things under my breath with people were being difficult.  I tend to say things like:

  • You will sit here and you will like it.
  • Just walk by me; I dare you.
  • You ignore me; it’s a two way street, honey.
  • (They say, “I’m sorry.”)  Me: No, you’re not.

It’s actually little phrases like that that wind up keeping me calm when I want to scream at them and tell them what big idiots they are.  My therapist actually recommends it, in place of physical violence ;).  In fact, I recommend it everyone.  If there is somebody or everybody who is pissing you off, just say something really nasty about them under your breath, and you’ll be fine a second later.  Good therapy!

Anywhoo, I hope that everyone here has a wonderful Labor Day that is labor free.

And on that note, it’s been real!

She Probably Knows

Alright, so I stopped in at my office partially to say ‘hello’ and partially to get a copy of a certification so I could avoid doing a stupid three hour test at school later this year or next year.  My manager and one of the doctors, the billing lady, and two hygienists greeted me as I entered the downstairs office.  I gave them a little update on schooling (I had only been in for three days), and asked for the copy of the certification.  We talked and told some jokes, before my replacement receptionist came down.  She and I hugged and talked (she wants to hang with me because I’m so cool), then she had to go back upstairs to work.

While I was there, I was a little worried the other receptionist (the one who screwed me over) would come down and try to greet me.  Thankfully, she didn’t.  I texted the one hygienist who had been in the office, and asked her if she had known I was there.  She responded by saying the b*tch hadn’t known I was there the entire time.  She apparently also asked if I had come upstairs at all.

Um… no, I didn’t come up because I didn’t want to see you!  I know that we will have to talk eventually if we are to work together when I come back; and one of the hygienists said we had to talk.  However, I want the talk to be on my terms.  Those terms are as follows:

  1. No buffer.  No manager or doctor, or anybody else to stand between me and the woman, who has been such a pain in my *ss.
  2. She does not get a word in edgewise until I’ve said my peace.  And I’ve got a peace to say.

And my actual terms of the talk are:

  1. She and I are not friends.  She does not try to be buddy-buddy with me.  If she does, I will guillotine her.
  2. Our relationship is strictly business.  She hands me things, I hand them back.  She tells me when patients are here, and does not ask me for help.  WITH ANYTHING!
  3. She does not ask about me on a personal level.  She tries to find out anything about me, what I’m doing, or how school’s going, she will hear from me (on a nuclear level).
  4. She does not ask me to cover shifts for her.  I don’t care if her daughter ‘has’ a dance recital, or her son ‘has’ a baseball game; she’ll have to ask my replacement, or miss it.

Sounds harsh, I know; but as I have said before, I’m not a forgiving person.  I had to put all my plans on hold because she had lied and gone on a practically three month vacation.  On a scale of 1 – 10, how high do you think my tolerance is for her right now?  Negative numbers.  Already, she is going to have to (if she’s still at the office), work the entirety of the Christmas break by herself!  I’m not coming in, her replacement is going back to her home state, and my manager and the billing lady want some time off as well.  So, as the old proverb says, “Sink or swim!”

And on that note, it’s been real!

Dr. Google Will See You Now

The Internet is equal parts informative and idiotic.  You can learn new things from looking it up on the Internet, and other times, you just make yourself a little more stupid.  Not going to lie; I’ve looked up something on the Internet, made a statement about it, and was made a fool of when I was corrected.  I have since learned to be more discerning and find out from multiple sources whether it is the truth or a misconception.

Now, what I find particularly hilarious, is when patients walk into an office, and say they have this certain ailment.  The assistant or the doctor asks them why they think they have that.  “Oh, I looked it up on Google.”  … crickets …

Do you have any idea how stupid you look to the doctor when you say that?  Incredibly, powerfully, monumentally, and insanely a few plums short of a pie.  That kind of stupid.  Google is a wonderful place.  But may I also remind you that it was the building block for Tinder, Tumblr, and a whole slew of other sites most people would like to forget they were ever a part of.  So… the next time you are feeling ill, and want a ‘first opinion’, don’t go to Google.  Unlike your doctor, Google doesn’t have a Ph.D.  Okay, maybe it does.  But it actually stands for ‘Published Health Distortion.’

And on that note, it’s been real!