Yes, What is it?

YOU!!!!
You're reading my blog!!! I will kill you!!!
All day I work my feengers to the bone! For your stupid kitty litter!
So angry!.....So angry...
DAH!! Can I help you?

This is just venting. If you read many a blog I'm sure there are alot of angry people out there. Or maybe they're the ones who haven't the guts to write their own blog 'cause they don't want to expose their feeling and come off like an asshole. They're the ones...they're the ones who...who ...who....respond to blogs just to tell you how stupid you are and that you're just a victim of your own narcissism seeking some kind of theraputic release by cyber-psycho-self-analysis!!!
How's that for use of hyphens? Best use since hyphens were used on hymens.

I just needed to use Ren's expression above to approximate mine for the whole day. 6:30 am start at work is getting to me. Feet hurting, too lazy to walk the 8 blocks, took bike there. Cold morning turning to 70's by 10AM. Now it's almost 4PM and i'm trashed. Too many managers hovering, trying to please the District Manager. I hate that. And the hyper-brainwashed wannabee manager-ess who trained me almost to her sela-like standards really gets on my nerves more than anything. Just her damn work ethic. And in the calmness before the storm of the lunch rush, she barks orders of menial tasks just because the DMs are there. I took it as the perfect time to take my break, sit in the sun and try to erase the frenzied Raven from my head. Gnahh! Get off me, crazy booid!!

Thank you, and here's your canned ham.

I hate to sound like an ingrate. But the rewards of being a humble barista are comparitavely humble. I have thusly finished a calendar week at over 40 hours, having made a bit of over time as well as supplementary compensation for filling in no-shows and head injury cases and others who value the fine weather so much as to not come in to work. From 9 am to 7:30 pm I toiled, taking only a 10 minute break to sit in the afternoon sun, and perhaps 30 seconds to observe Bush's passing motorcade, thinking more that maybe I'll see the pool van carrying my Jules for the ride. She was thinking as much as the pool blazed up 15th, snarling traffic both car and foot. One could not cross K, no matter what laminate one sported apparently. And you could not escape by Metro for the forces somehow stalled at Foggy Bottom, forcing patrons into my store to dine after hours. Paisans stopped me on the way home, knowing I'd closed asking me why so early (!!!) I never thought I'd take warm sunshine for granted cuz I'm gonna get some tomorrow. Peak cherry blossom day I bet.

Room for Eccentricities behind the counter?

3rd out of 4 straight days Barista-ing and I've yet to snap...well I did throw my hat yesterday. Today I felt slightly in authoritah, left to judge what to lay out for the lunch crowd. They came in waves and waves but I survived. My mutterings and occasional songs perplexing my coworkers. When one of them went into her own little booty grind, hollah, I felt embarrassed to look. Not that she was a hottie, not the case, but witnessing kooky behavior does put the viewer on the spot a bit. How do you react? There's nothing in the training manual (??!) that says you can or cannot do this. Now I'm the last person to care, I want a reaction cuz I think my humor is intelligent and credible and vital and brave. You cannot be boring! You're making <$10 an hour, so get down!

Wired

Wired
Originally uploaded by TragiclyFlawed.

Use with caution, enjoy!


I was so wiped out from work yesterday that I couldn't remember what day it was, if I was on to work the next day, even though I'd written it down. Hope I don't have more of those days. While I'm in the shower, work calls and asks if I can fill in ...uh, OK.
Collective"BART" Brain Fart. Throughout the long day I founs out what happens when you fill in for someone, and why.
The was the usual chaos, undermanned lunchtime lunacy demanding more intuitive action. Taking many phone calls as well, one asking about one employee who was absent today. Seeking confirmation...why? I shouldn't say but I have a few guesses.

OH...just hi there

Yep its Monday night. Worked a long shift today. Drink of the day was a tie between a double espresso with steamed half n' half and an extremely weak decaf latte. Or should I note my excitement at finally making a Tiraspresso after plugging them all day to no avail. It's basically, custard, a dbl shot, whip cream and chocolate.

Yawn
Watched The Weather Man w/ Nicolas Cage. I thought it was OK, my bad imitation of NC not withstanding. To have a job that easy (as is in the film) is it worth enduring some humiliation? Only if you're a jerk it seems. And a bad dad.
I can't believe it's going to snow tomorrow. Bummer

High price for a clean neck

Well I hate to dwell on tragedy, but hear this. I went to The upscale barber shop today (not many choices here) to get my bi-monthly grooming. After juggling all my stuff, stashing my sunglasses, cap, headphones, books and scarf into various pockets of accessable nature I entered. Went through the $30 process, shampooed, neck shaved without warm gel, ouch! I walked to the corner, couldn't find my shades. Not the cheap $5 shades which I lost earlier this week, but the leather posted Kenneth Cole shades Jules got me for Xmas, which I've worn scarcely. Total fuckin disappearrance! Rage consumed me, of a different nature than the rage that filled the hippy hearts of the nearby frozen anti-war protestors. The only anniversary I have to commemorate is the daily song of of "why I'm such an idiot" that I sing to myself, sharing with the world the true affirmation of yes, that is I and all that I am. It just seems that I cannot bask in the artificial glow of my freshly exfoliated DNA

It works in L.A.?????

Whip
Originally uploaded by powerbooktrance.

Yeah I got somethin' foamy for ya!


Usually I like to remember the most disgusting drink I prepare each day, like a hot chocolate with half and half for instance, but today it's a simple coffee event of a simple drink with a dissasfied customer with a cryptic reasoning. A soy latte....extra foamy. Being essentially a water-based product, you can scald yourself for hours it seems and not be able to foam soy milk. As I learned...the woman customer refused the beverage with a few common and a few odd statements.

It's my one treat for the day.
Starbucks lattes suck
I just want my money back.
It works in LA, but....

Eh? Are we talking altitude? smog effect? A different brand, technique, hair color? Air pressure? Rate of assholism per brain cell?
What works in LA? Did anything work during the power crisis there? No thanks to Enron and Ahnold...Gray Davis, I like your name, and I hope you run for president just to piss off anyone who defies Enron toadies, Bush backers and Schwartzenwackers.

I know there must be at least a hlf dozen people who read this blog, I'm sure you're highly caffeinated, maybe spent a great deal of time on the other coast, more than I have for sure. So straighten me out. What's up with these people? Are they just jerks, I'm just a simple man but I've acquired a major skill in a month that seems so easy and simple after all. I still struggle sometimes with the steamed milk, and with Soy I've met my match. As it some kind of coastal thing? And what is it about Starbucks and that burnt paper flavor that makes it so addictive? And is there some kind of rationalization involved by having a marble macchiatto instead of a brownie? Do you think if you spend more money on a dessert lighter than a solid sugar that you're saving yourself calories and looking more chic doing it? Where does this vanity end?
Please submit a comment. This is a professional talking. 5 weeks, baby. You should see the way I squeeze between the counter. It takes nerves of steel, discipline like a samurai and the accuracy of a crooked accountant.

Not likely I bet. We take so much for granted, no we can take getting fucked for granted. Hey, if Enron can take down the country's longest tenured accountants (Anderson) along on it's sinking ship, it could take down all the banks that cashed their checks...oh let's call them loans. What $ucker(ie$)$$$$$$

Black blood runs beneath the bottom line

Filled with a lot of simmering rage today. My return to work was a thankless and unappreciative venture. I want to be altruistic, yet free of guilt and still believe in the inherent good and brotherhood of man and cameraderie in the workplace and all that gunk. But the reality is that the world is a backstabbing cheap ass jungle and if you don't have the will and the skill to fuck your brother but good, then you can't expect anything for freem cheap or fair value.

Okay G, what'd you do wrong? I had an orange juice, OK? Well, that beverage ain't complimentary here. Whew...good thing they haven't noticed the fancy profligate latte's I've been fixing myself. Dude, anything to keep my ass upright and my till accurate which it's been damn straight! The lesson of course is don't get caught, but being devious doesn't work for me and if you run a venture with that much waste, don't be fuckin nitpicky I say. How many espresso shots do we dump? How many bagels to we chuck, screw the homeless..they don't eat do they? I mulled and stewed for much of the day on the principles of procedures and regulations that I don't completely take as gospel. There is gray area in the service biz that goes for personnel as well as the customer. If you pay $2 for a cookie (previously frozen) $5 for a latte and $10 for a salad and you cheeze them on the napkins, you're not putting the customer first are ya? But these nitpicky things are running through my head, and my God...I'm a good bean counter....do I have a future in this? I hope not. I'm too old anyway....you have a 32 year old manager who looks 10 years older with failing organs already...miserable with life, And you have guys making $8 an hour who have lived...some too hard. I'm in there with guys living in halfway houses, who have their vagrant pals coming by for free bread and water and change exchange. This is all very humbling and I'm just trying to stay that way and evolve, relate and improve my Spanish.

Tonight me and Bean watched ENRON-The smartest guys in the room. Obviously the smartest guy was the one who didn't get prosecuted, Lou Pai who cashed out early, sold his property in Colorado and married a stripper, one among his favorite of company-paid luncheon entertainment items. But obviously the rage at the injustice contiues. People out there, I hear you, the ones who worked hard and believed the gospel of Skilling and reinvested your 401Ks only to get screwed. Once again I feel lucky, although I've never had a 401K, I've been paid off the books, on the books, no interest in the company whatsoever. I doubt I'll ever be a millionaire, too big a conscience. To be a little stock trader, out for a bonus and retire at 30 with a Ferrari and a coke habit ain't for me. I'm scared of a mortgage. If I could do it all over agian, all the money I've wasted could have gotten me a sociology degree. I just want to pondeer humanity, wear argyle sweaters and stroke my beard alot.

The Epic Trials of G

I made a doodle! A doodle! Doodle!

What am I doodling? If I had a shrink he'd say I see myself at the eye of a storm, a hurricane of tourists and govenment workers. I sit imagining I am a piece of mail being processed, or is it flying free. There must be a term for self analysis via blog. Am I the only person doing this? Well since it's ablog, no one will be catching in unless you want to buy some space, you're better off buying your own space if you haven't already. Anyway, my shift was more animated, the surveyors fortunately gone and the springtime tourists are beginning to creep in, with malicious enthusiasm at times. I like that.

So I have something of a schedule now, or at least a pattern of being abused and exposed to a cruel and unforgiving public. I bear the cross and I like it. Yesterday it was 10 1/2 hours working a counter at Cosi is like being an unofficial Ambassador in this town. I find myself suggestive selling, although for other establishments. We don't sell ice cream and I can't really endorse the Arctic Smoothie for it's high sugar content and lack of resemblance to anything I've ever found digestable. Add caramel, mocha or mint to it and you have some illness in ya.

Tomorrow is a genuine day off, flexablity maintains my equilib. I will go to the library to find an English/Spanish textbook. I must brush up for any or all of my future careers which are appearing now in their infancy, I approach all with great hope and amplomb with customary gregariousness. I can still be a bit much for people, forcing a sense of humour down their throat when they least expect it. Don't let work do that to you I say.

Officer Blogdabovitch?

What the hell is this...a blog or something? Which brings me to wonder what in my current or past activities qualifies me to be an officer or some kind, this time being Police. Well whether my college has anything to do with it might matter. That said, the college only in name-dropping that I have a degree has been of so little use to me through the years. I finally contacted them today for a transcript, only to be given a bill for something I'll never see. Maybe I should have ordered one for myself. They're always ready to ring you up. The common link is that for the truly desperate and string grabbing innocent lambs like me, the takers and scammers are all on the take and they don't fade with age. Not to say I'm innocent of all sin, but a typical lamb, be it a paschal, sacrificial or a sheep being led to slaughter, or one who likes to abuse his horned cranium, that's me.

To fill in the literal gap, I explored DC Villiage in Anacostia, NOVA destined for the Police recruitment center. Not having a car left me kinda at the mercy of public trans, so one wrong bus, one right bus, wrong location, a long walk down wooded/industrial, virually abandoned looking roads later I made it. Endured a lot of struggle through the fingerprint process. Found the bus stop very near and back again when I really saw the town. The emergency shelter for displaced families from who-knows-where. Many ghetto blocks with the usual bodegas, liquor stores, churches and Popeyes.

My qualifications in my mind have no place in this world. Not one I had imagined myself in. But did I belong in the Lovesphere? Let's just hide that qualification, or shelf it this year, I'm mailing my contribution to the Spring Equinox and the great takeover by The Urban AlienNations...in the mail. My suitors of late...my own rage...the Navy...The Police...The Starbux....The ones I currently work for and deign not to shun... Through this all...the girlfriend strokes my arm...like a curious kitten to a confused sheep. She rides the sheep as it slams itself into the side of the barn...again! Beeeehhh!!

The trio frustration

So I sort of had my first real DC rock club experience (of this century) last night. The cell phone era even behooves the performers themselves to constantly check their shit it seems. Even before performing, i saw someone hand their phone off on the way to a cameo bit, giving instructions before checking the mike. And when you're in a small room, even with rock club PA, to have people talking full volume right in front of the stage at the beginning of the set no less, it makes me think..why bother.
As much as I like cool electric guitar blasting through a half stack, I don't want to be lugging that shit up narrow stairs, up n' back n' in n' out n' back to the apartment, for a 35 minute set. Everything here is shorter, ends earlier.
Well I wasn't able to make up the meager work hours lost the other day, but I got through it without significant distress, unconsciously it seemed OK to show up at 630 am and finish at 2. Here I am, all day to kill, who's first???

A Lack of Arts Appreciation

So I have the afternoon off, stuff to do tonight. I go down to the NMNH early to cash in my weekly IMAX comp and Into the Deep is closing soon, so I want to catch it. Noon is not the time to be at that museum, folks. Too many kids, how could I forget....too much time at the genteel Freer for me, and the otherwise somnambulistic shift at the Postal Museum. (ATT Bethany and friend, please take a week off at least, from the surveying...) So IMAX, the usual, kids can't abandon their cell phones or taking pictures of themselves, or kick my chair back, or talk, whine, try to grab the 3D images. Mercifully the film is only 35 minutes. I couldn't imagine sitting through Harry Potter under any circumstances, but there? Forgettaboudit.
So I trundle over to the National Gallery (after hiding my precious credentials-not a Smithsonian venue) for the just opened DADA Exhibit. Crowded of course, cool progression of the infamous post-war movement from separatist Zurich to war-torn Berlin to Cologne to New York and back to Paris. The names are all familiar: Max Ernst, Man Ray,Georg Grosz, Marcel DuChamp (Rrose Selavy-his cross-dressing alter-ego). The biggest laugh is the entrance into Paris which has Duchamp's Fountain, a urinal mounted 8 feet high in a door jamb as originally displayed in his studio. Having in the entrance, obscuring the P in Paris becons one to climb a ladder, or attempt an impossible feat of urination upon entering. The films were a bit more mixed media, with combined human elements with Fischinger-style objects. All silent except for the little kids running around totally unsupervised. Just something else you have to endure in pursuit of personal enrichment.