First stop for poop-scooping is the Park & Ride, although I clearly stated that I wanted to board the 7:40 bus the Favorite Guy has it in his mind that I will board the crowded-ass, standing room only 7:20 bus. For no other reason than, he is "Itinerary Man", (said in a superhero-esque tone) and his mental plan for the day prevails everyday and everywhere. It's been an ongoing issue. But at 7:20 am, feeling like I have a Jimmy Choo stiletto heel lodged in, not one, but both temples-not a battle I feel prepared to engage. Now, I get on the bus and although my day is off to a pretty shitty start it isn't nearly as shitty as the breath of the man panting heavily over my left shoulder the entire ride.
I managed to arrive without being noticed by the powers that be, which is a plus when you arrive for your 6:00 am shift at 8:00 am. The next few hours were seemingly uneventful as I was coming down from bus ride rage. I remained unscathed by the nonsensical yammerings of my clients. I think at that point I was grateful that I could only hear and not smell the shit they were talking.
Fast forward to lunch and the day is getting just a bit more flowery! I stopped at Yasda Bento picked up a vegetable bowl, loaded it up with hot sauce accompanied by a vat of Diet Coke and met Avery up at the employee lounge for eatin's. Avery is a co-worker of mine, he's a nice kid with a fairly positive outlook on life, but have no fear I'm working on him. Lunch went well, Avery shared his weekend adventures with a faulty garage door and just when I thought it couldn't get any better, in walks "Package Man". Package Man has been an ongoing source of amusement for me since I noticed his existence about a year ago. This guy wears the absolute tightest Levi's Dockers khakis hiked up to, I'd say about the third rib from the bottom. As a result his "man-parts" are burgeoning in an unsightly hump, or in his case "package" in his pants. I try to be grown-up, really I do. But, every time he enters the lounge I'm forced into uncontrollable laughter, which is heightened by the fact that he looks thoroughly annoyed all the time. And I'm sure he is with his parts all "a-cram" in the 110 degrees desert heat! Well, Avery can't partake in all of my Package Man hysterics, because, well-he's a guy and there's some rule about guys not looking at other guys packages. I think they teach it in Public Restroom Etiquette 101. Sucks for him, because this shit is hilarious and to boot, he seems to stab his fork into his burnt chicken more aggressively as my laughter continues. What's he gonna do kick my ass, uh, not in those trousers!
I'm exhausted now. I'm full. I've had a good chuckle, it's almost time to go home but I need a cup of coffee to get me through the next few hours. I go down to the overpriced coffee nook with the vintage pastries. I started calling them vintage when I advised the clerk that the cookies were dated "sell by" last October and she smiled like I was referring to wine, to which I snidely replied, "Oh is that a good year?'" Before neatly putting them back. So I fill my coffee cup and look around quizzically for the skim milk (bad vegan I know but that coffee is lethal on its own). When I ask the store clerk about the skim milk she looks at me like I've gone mad and says quite aggressively I might add, "Milk?! We don't keep that out, it'll go bad!" So I say to her, in a tone I generally reserve for those under 5 and over 85, "Right, but there are three partially stocked refrigerators in here-why not just stick it in there?" She continues to grow increasingly more belligerent and then she calls the manager who also looks at me like I'm nuts. So, I slam the coffee down and head to the fridge and buy a damn skim milk. As she is ringing me up and totally without a second thought I say to both of them, "I will never buy coffee here again I will sooner burst into flames while walking to Starbucks. This is the worst customer service I have ever received, I walk in, pour coffee and ask for skim milk and you two carry on like I asked for...ear of newt or toe of frog or some shit"! Don't ask why I quoted MacBeth, I don't know where that came from! But, yeah I quoted MacBeth and just as I walked off, once again, my head starts to throb. Ugh...