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Thread: The Random Pointless Observations about Things You Did Today Thread

  1. #101
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    Well, some warmer weather and rain cleared things up.

    Unfortunately, I was stuck outside for the two and a half hours when it was freezing rain, gentle snowflakes, and a few hardened ice particulates. I didn't know in advance that was to be my role today, for if I had, I would have brought my raincoat and umbrella in from the parking lot.

    But, there was another guy out there as well, so I just decided to man up and not complain.

    I: WTF is wrong with these private "Flex" drivers? They get paid, literally, to run errands for me. And some septuagenarian actually questions what I tell her to do? Just do it, lady. I don't have the time or inclination to talk you down from whatever bad brown acid you ate, you crazy cunt.

    II: Just because road conditions are a bit more favorable, if you ride my ass on the highway when I'm going home, not only do I enjoy brake-checking you for about three-miles, but when I followed you home, I think you should be very frightened. Do not fuck with me. I will not murder you, but I will take as few minutes of my time as is necessary to make you believe you are the prey of a demented psychopath.

    III: "You need to find yourself a woman!" —"Yeah, well, maybe a pet. I shouldn't have said that..." "Well, a pet can't do everything for you a woman can." —"Well, ..." All good-natured conversation.

    IV: It really is true that pretty intense sweating in an environment with humidity potential sort of makes you smell of shit. I showered this morning, with soap, and wore clean clothes, but it's an upsetting phenomenon, I find. ETAThat's meant to be an analogy between electrical potential and humidity potential — I think it's true, at least from what I experienced today, but it might not be the right analogy. HOWEVER, there is a reason the USN has these things called "poopie suits."
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 11 Feb 2019 at 11:25 PM.

  2. #102
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    —"Well there has to be an order."
    —"No, [unspoken: you're a half-hour early to do my company's errands], just find a place where you're comfortable being parked."
    —"What's the order?"
    —"There isn't any real order, just wherever you feel comfortable waiting a bit."
    —"Yes, but what's the order!"
    —"There isn't any order."
    —"But there has to be an order."
    —"I know. Just go over there or go over there and talk to somebody inside. [There's no way she'd be admitted inside the warehouse without safety gear, and there's no entrance for errand-people on foot.]"

    One of two people today who seemed to think there's some "order" for when they show up early to run my errands.

    No. There isn't. You fucked up and got here early. Good for you.

    Just sit in the fucking parking lot until I radio in that I want you.

    Or fucking deliver pizzas instead. We don't want your shit — there are plenty of good drivers who aren't going to get "accidentally" have a bad experience inside the warehouse.

    Really.

    You're delivering a pizza.

    Be glad I let you do that much, you wormy little piece of shit.

  3. #103
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    They call me Mister Tibbs.

    I'm not a fucking fry cook or hamburger-flipper.

    What the hell planet does some errand-boy come from flipping me shit?

    This is not a customer-service job, and you work for me.

    So do what I say, and none of that sass-mouth.

  4. #104
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    I am really having a hard time getting over having to treat these errand-runners as "customers."

    They're not my customers, and, in fact, I'm doing them a favor by allowing them into my warehouse. Don't like it? Go deliver pizzas, or whatever makes you feel like you're not on death's door. Or whatever the hell reason they do an errand-boy's job at the age of eighty or whatever. Too bad you sucked at life: my portfolio has been growing since I was twenty years old, and my life hasn't suffered by saving up for retirement. Younger people never give me any static — they're glad to get a small paycheck, same as me, and seem to be adequately socialized.

    That said, I'm really good at people.

    95+% of them.

    I don't understand the small number of people who somehow think they are not errand delivery people.

    And, trust me, there is no "old money" in PDX. The closest there is, I know them all by name, and they know me.

    So you got a nice car. Good for you. Just get in line and deliver what I tell you to. Yuppie fucking assholes, good luck with your McDonald's franchise, or your failing (or prosperous, relatively) sole-proprietor shop. Bunch of nitwits.

    And, no, some peanut-head cheese-eating white bitch with lamentable property holdings and a lack of pedigree, education. Sorry, you dried up old cunt, you just don't belong in the world.

    Time to die.

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