Friends With Benefits

 


  When your co-workers find out that you own a vehicle that will fit the new love seat that they have to have inside of their own minds, you suddenly become a friend with benefits. Normally these are the same people who have problems remembering your exact name: like if your name is Brad they still some times call you Brian. All of a sudden you are the source for all of their answers. 

 It has been years since your worth has been valued this much....maybe not since the day that your were born and proved to be healthy with all of your fingers and toes. The first natural tendency is to basque in the glory of being something to somebody, when those two seconds are over with, you move on to protecting your time, your property, and your lifting capability. These are all the things expected in exchange for a few nice words and a quick smile. All of a sudden your life is filled with things that are more important than feeding starving children in Calcutta like Mother Theresa...you call this 'washing your hair' or 'house sitting your neighbors elderly cat with bowl problems', also known as anything that sounds plausible and can't be found out to be a bold faced lie. 

Some people would say why not just tell the truth and tell your co-worker that you are not interested in using your gas, your time, and your muscle to lug a two seat couch up a flight of stairs because you are waiting for them to evicted instead because of all the other things you have heard coming out of their mouth. As much joy as it is verbally slapping people in the face, house sitting a fake neighbors cat with bowl problems is starting to feel so much better than 'hells bells no way and here's why...'.

 Then there are those who can't take a hint, a tip, or a guided tour to the answer of 'no'. They beg, they nag, they stalk, they know when and where you will be because you both work at the same place. This is when you start to feel like Mother Theresa even though you have done nothing to help anyone, you too have fought the devil in the name of oppression and have won the daily battle in the name of good against evil. Based on the amount of whining, begging, and daily pleas of need, you are almost positive that those starving children in Calcutta complained less. This is when you reaffirm to yourself that adults are suppose to take care of themselves and that you are not the only person in the USA with a vehicle that can move a love seat. Now you are just waiting out the siege.
  Eventually this person should move on to someone else...theoretically. Or you get promoted because your boss is impressed by your new dedication to your job as way to stay as busy as you publicly claim to be and then really don't have time for any of your former goofing off....maybe you should have moved the couch....at least then you could still goof off.

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Big In The U.ASS.A.

 

 We all work hard, some work really hard, and then there are those who work extra hard trying to do things that will let them work smarter and not harder. There is that old joke from the short lived TV show In Living Color, "How many job ya got mon?" Then the other person would respond that he had three jobs. The group would laugh and say that the man was lazy then move onto the next guy who had five jobs. Generally the joke was the most poverty stricken people or the ones fresh off the boat from Ellis Island could only get crappy part time jobs so they always had more than one. Personally I have been known to juggle three jobs at the same time while looking for one good job that never happened.

  Everyone tries to make their lives better, everyone tries to work hard enough to find a happy medium between doing and not doing so much that we don't miss out on the some of the happier moments. Many believe in the concept of 'only wanting a happy life', and some just work harder than others to get something they could call happiness....for some the jury is still out on that one.

  For one thing I have been seeing a trend in our society, the more free government hand outs people get the unhappier they become. It is no longer about simply getting the hand out but all the other drama created surrounding it. People who do not have jobs need something to fill their lives, so they complain about the free hand outs that they have been given (it wasn't fast enough, it was the wrong color, the person who gave it to them was rude...etc). Now with 40% of the population supporting the other 60% we are breeding whiny self entitled people who think they have money to spend. In reality they have your money to spend, and they want to maximize the worth of that money by getting as much stuff for free with that money. For example, if these government funded babies go out to eat (at the place where I work) then they will complain until whole entrees have been removed from the bill and then will not tip because they are on a set monthly budget. This is the kind of society our government is creating. Or when I am working hard to sell things online, they buy things continually asking for refunds because they wanted the experience of shopping but can't afford a car to go try on clothes since it is cheaper to harass online sellers. I want this on my tombstone 'I like selling to men because they  know what they want. Women are clueless'. I am not complaining about giving refunds, but if you know that you are a 2XL and just want to see if the XL fits, do not waste my time for me to ship it just to let you try it on. (Side note FYI, damaged inventory from fat ladies cannot be sold again and eBay will always take their side and not yours.) 

  

  This problem has been growing all over our country, we are the lazy asses of America, we are Big in the U. ASS.A. All of these lazy, find a problem with everything people need a little less drama and a little more hunger in their lives.....a hunger to improve or actual hunger because if you don't work you should not weigh 400lbs. Wither is it at my restaurant job or at home trying to be an entrepreneur, all I want for all the whiny bitchy babies is to leave me alone....but America is now a breeding grounds for the self entitled to my tax dollars. Another true statistic that comes to mind that gives me an odd sense of joy, at least people are being convinced that they are too broke to have babies. Not sure which sector this is working more on, but jobs would limit the breeding of child related hand outs. If you at work you ain't screwing....jus' sayin'. If you have a job then maybe you can tip your waitress.

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Three Dollars For Three Minutes

 

  During WWII in Hawaii, on Pearl Street prostitutes worked in a set of rooms that went in a circle called the bull pen, in these rooms they would entertain a soldier for three minutes then move on to the next room. This is where the expression $3 for 3 minutes came from. This also helped to cement the term a 'working girl', because this was no ordinary 8 hour shift.
   Very often I will work the morning shift at my part time restaurant job, and most of the customers are elderly and female. No matter how much you bust your butt making everything perfect during their two hour visit they will only tip you three dollars, and they are senile enough to believe they have only been there for three minutes. Performing these tasks day after day really makes prostitution look like an equal opportunity with the same job description, except you can be self employed and work from home, unlike the restaurant business.
  Don't get me wrong, not everyday is a bad day, but every time I see those three one-dollar bills sitting on the table or that amount written on the credit card receipt, all I can think of is Pearl Street prostitution as I watch the old ladies hobble out the door. I am also very sure that they were protected enough in their youth and kept so busy with children all their lives that they never got around to learning more about history or where the expression $3 for 3 minutes came from. So now in their ancient age and blindness to all things (like inflation, minimum wage, and cost of living), they revert back to what they think was a good tip when they were younger.....like in 1960.
   Don't get me wrong, I like talking with old people and making others happy, but my boss does not like it when I try to only spend three minutes with each table so that I can still pay my bills. It's is such a regular expectation for me to only be given the value of $3 that I have considered doing what other servers have already done...such as screening a table before taking it. There are two servers who I work with who do not wait on people who appear to be over the age of 45, and who do not dress as if they did not buy their clothes from Goodwill. I do agree, this is discrimination, but I get to keep my water hot and my lights on if I stop taking tables that only tip $3 because they are not from 2015.

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