Kids These Days...

One thing I won't ever understand is children. Why do people want them?

They're loud, they poop, they cry, and they make you hemorrage money like there's no tomorrow. Your social life goes down the tubes, and, if you're a woman, you generally become obese for 9 months. When they get older they just become more expensive, and even worse, some start to become crafty.

As previously mentioned, the place I spend my summers involves food and servicing the highly entitled. The main clientele involves old people and soccer mommies with their children. I have to say the children and old people have some striking similarities. Like, for example, their affinity for diapers. Or we could key in on their uncanny ability to mutter what they want and then throw a temper tantrum when you ask them to repeat. But today I would like to focus particularly on the young'ns.

A time long ago, a simpler time that is, I thought babies were cute little blobs you fed and dressed up, kind of like a gigantic doll, but without those creepy eyes that open and shut on their own. Well, during my tenure in food service I have come to realize that they are so much more than that. They truly are terrifying.

First of all, they make a wide range of sounds, kind of like bird calls.

Baby: Yap Yap Yap Yap
Me: Ahhhhh! Why is it doing that?! Is it hungry? Does it need a change?
Co-Worker: That means happy

Now why the hell would that mean happy? It isn't a laugh, it isn't a giggle. It's literally making the same chirping sound over and over, again and again. I'm being forced to take a language in order to graduate from college. I chose Spanish, perhaps they should have offered Baby.

Next is the stage where they toddle, or waddle, or bumble around doing whatever it is they do. I find this stage the scariest because they tend to run away from their parents at a surprisingly fast pace. This will either send adults running around in a panic chasing down their precious cargo or they'll hardly notice whilst their "adorable" children tear apart display cases. They seem to often have an affinity for Syrian bread.

Worst scene ever though:

Kid: *smiles
Me: *smiles back thinking, 'awww this one's kinda cute'
Kid: *runs foreword, firmly clamping down hands on display case
Me: *thinking, 'typical, I thought you were different, but I guess not'
Kid: *continues to smile, sticks out tongue and licks case. covering it amply in saliva
Me: What he hell are you DOING! Do you know how dirty that is?!

*Enter disgruntled parent, upset that I swore at their child...

Now so far these haven't been that bad. They don't actually get too annoying until they can speak. Speaking opens completely different doors for them. They can employ the ever effective techniques of begging (this works on most parents), if not, they proceed to wailing (they'll usually cave at this point out of embarrassment), or if they're smart, craftiness. This little girl stands out in my mind the most:

Girl: Mommy, Mommy! Look, potato pancakes! (a clear introduction to what she wants)
Mommy: That's nice honey (a clear (and failed) attempt at pretending not to notice her kid wants them)
Girl: But I want them! (this one's on the move, she's clearly skipped begging and progressed to wailing)
Mommy: Maybe another time (mmmm far too feeble a response, going to have to step it up if you want combat your little terror)
Girl: But I remember them from Hanukkah! (ding ding ding and we have a winner)
Mommy: Well, alright. Do you want two? (this religious reference has clearly warmed the cockles of her heart)
Girl: No! Three! (and she has clearly learned the art of milking it)

So, as you can see, children are terrifying in any shape and size. All I can do is stand back and smile, because no one wants to hear that their little bastard child is anything less than adorable, despite the fact that they are usually wayyyyy less than adorable.

Free Hugs!

Ahhh, actually I was kidding. If someone came charging towards me with a tight embrace in mind, I would probably run the hell away. But that being said lets talk for a moment about the hug.


There're comforting hugs, bear hugs, perfunctory I don't-know-you-but-since-you're-my-friend's-friend-I'm-giving-you-this-insincere-hug hugs (these are often paired with a fake kiss on the cheek), and even the most appalling- the sniper hug.


Yes, these hugs are usually pent up and dolled out at the most inconvenient and obnoxious times. For example, at wedding/funeral/family gathering you were unwillingly dragged to, some sort of aunt or awkward uncle, who you haven't seen since you were 8, will usually sneak up behind you and gasp in some sort of falsetto voice, "remember me?!?!!!" while simultaneously catching you in a death grip.


Next up there's the 2nd-grade-throw-back sniper hug. These hugs are usually deployed by girlfriends you've had since forever ago. The scenario generally starts off with you, the helpless victim, roaming off to class, from your car to any mundane errand or destination, or, if your pursuer is a particularly experienced attacker, in your very own home. Yep, nowhere is safe. These predators like to jump up behind you and cover your eyes, generally screeching things like, "Surprise it's me!" or "Guess whooooo!" Like, geee, I wonder who the hell else would sneak up behind me and clap their clammy, and mostly likely unsanitary, hands over my face? Hmmmm, who ever could that be?


The last and possibly most dangerous and annoying sniper of all is the college guy. This guy will scour down a campus and pick out every semi-attractive female in a one-mile radius and hunt everyone of them down on his way to class, a party, feeding time, ect. You name it, he's there, ready and waiting. They can usually be characterized by an overpopulated facebook friends list and an enormous wingspan ready to encompass two or three unsuspecting women at a time. A fraternity membership and gang of douchey friends are not required but usually involved.


So there you are. I hope you can now see that the word "hug" is really just the word "space-invader" disguised.

Captain Superiority Complex to the Rescue!

Under every bridge, there is a troll
Under every refrigerator, a cockroach that won't die.
In every class, an obnoxious know it all that won't shut up.

Don't bother trying to complain about your flat tire, they probably have an engine leak.
Don't mention your men troubles, their boyfriend probably cheated on them with their best friend and are still trying to mend their broken heart. *tear*
Basically whatever you think is wrong with your life, don't. Because they are sure to inform you that theirs is much, much worse.

Don't bother trying to take down notes in class peacefully, they will always correct your professor. Despite the fact that he or she probably has a PhD in the subject and has also been studying it their whole lives.
In fact don't try to ask any questions at all, because this person will always have a  smarter, more detailed question.

The reason I bring this person up at all is because recently one my lectures was lucky enough to have the author of a novel we were reading come and speak to us. During this lecture of about 60 people there were about 3 that insisted on showing off their obvious genius. Now I'm sure they're all bright individuals, but would we not think twice before try to inform the author of a book what his book means? No?

The only thing better than watching those who believe they are intellectually superior than all the rest make fools of themselves is watching said author shut them down.

Student: so what role did architecture play in this novel

Author: It was to help depict the setting

Student: Right. But what did it tell us about the characters? What did they emote through it?

Author: Uhhhm not much, it was really just there for setting purposes.

Yup you pretentious bastard, shut up and stop looking for a pat on the head.  Its nice to be involved and engaged. Its not as nice to speak just for the sake of speaking.
But no worries, the semester is over, you'll be able to tell whose in college because they'll emerge pale and pasty from their dorms gasping at the sunlight and fresh air having been locked in for the past week, so we won't have to deal with any of them for a few months.

Peace out cub scout! Its summer time :)

Slut!

I work at a lovely establishment we'll call the land where people's souls go to die. In the vast land where people's souls go to die there are many different departments. The one in which I work, deals heavily with customer service. This meaning that I spend a lot of my day nodding my head to every complaint, piss, and moan about things ranging from soup that's too hot to sub rolls that need the dough inside scooped out- only the issues of utmost importance.

But this day was a new day... A day like no other... A day with a sexual harassment complaint?

Oh yes my friends. Sexual. Harassment. Complaint.

So I would first like to give you a quick run through of the average demographics of my customers:

Gladys get my teeth! I need to go down the place where souls go die and
torture the girl behind the counter!

OK little Timmy, now badger the nice lady about which chicken
drumsticks you want.

OK, not that I have anything against uptight soccer mommies or old, saggy men, but when out on the prowl they aren't exactly my target audience. So I'm still not quite sure who it was that filed a complaint of "uncomfortable flirting," but whoever it was shouldn't flatter themselves. And furthermore who feels as though flirting is uncomfortable? Maybe this reflects badly on my flirting skills. Maybe I should punish all those who cross me by flirting with them. At any rate this will probably remain an unsolved mystery. As there are hundreds of people in that store a day it gets too tiring to come up with personalized greetings, therefore everyone pretty much gets the same routine. So the moral of the story kiddies, is the next time you think someone is hitting on you, don't. And even if you still do, don't report them- its a lot of paperwork.