See? I didn't miss a post in August! No sir/ma'am!
This may not be rich in detail, but I did keep a list of things that happened during this incredibly short period of non-blogging. ;)
Renovations are in full swing at the site. Or rather, the demolitions have been. The actual renovations will be starting soon. But before we could start smashing the place up, we emptied one half of the building, and squished all the people into the other half.
After they were safely moved, we had people come in to salvage the furnishings and equipment. So during that week, Cafeteria Lady complained that someone had taken her filing cabinets. She'd had them in a semi-public area - one that was slated for renovation. So... since she hadn't bothered to clear out her stuff, the cabinets were taken.
The client got her email/call, passed it on to Eyes & Ears, and he told Cafeteria Lady that he'd "get right on it". Of course, as he gleefully told me, he didn't get right on it. It went on his list, and she's a loooooooow priority on that list.
Apparently Cafeteria Lady sensed that because she went to Crazy Cougar Receptionist, sussed out the number for the furniture company, and called them up. She told them, and this is a more-or-less direct quote, "I don't care about the filing cabinets, I just want what's in them."
So there I was in the cafeteria, about half an hour after Cafeteria Lady had left, when a man wheeled in a large (almost the size of a stove) cardboard box on a furniture dolly. It was the contents of four full-sized filing cabinets. "Where do you want these?"
Eyes & Ears and myself were laughing so hard we almost couldn't see. We took possession and then tried to figure out how to get the most mileage out of this. After all, she did say that she didn't care about the actual cabinets... ;)
Needless to say she was unthrilled and has tried to ignore the contents of the box. But the client is having none of that, and assigned her a couple of new filing cabinets and instructed her to fill them. ;) It won't happen though, the cafeteria staff is done there sometime in September.
Moving along, Q-tip told me that Dicegimp has a girlfriend! Of course, it's someone who works the closing shift at the McDonalds located at the end of the block where the site is. He goes in there several times during his shift to get food, and that's how they met.
It should be noted that they have no interaction other than at the restaurant. She gives him food that they'd normally throw out.
Q-tip finds this disgusting. "He's taking their garbage!" But it goes a step further than that: at the end of his four-day work period, Dicegimp heads over to McDonalds and climbs into the dumpster and scavenges as many of the bags of tossed out food as he can, throws them into a black garbage bag, and hauls them back to the site so he doesn't have to grocery shop during his four days off.
His supervisor caught him doing that one night - hunched over like a weird Santa Claus under his bulging sack (ewww) he looked like a "suspicious person" and the supervisor moved to intercept. Then Dicegimp straightened up and the supervisor realized it was his guard. So sad. ;)
The daughter of the cleaners at work, the one whose parents have been pushing me towards her... I need a name for her. I'm going to call her Filipina Colada, as in the song "Do You Like Filipina Coladas?"
Anyway, her birthday was coming up (this is about three or four weeks ago), and she bounced up behind me, threw an arm around me, and told her dad that "Rimmy is taking me out for my birthday, aren't you Rimmy?"
"Of course I am!" I craftily replied.
"How can that be," her father asked, "you have to work!"
Rimmy: "I'm the supervisor. If I want to leave, I'm going to leave."
FC's Dad: "Well, for just one night, that's not so bad."
Rimmy: "One night? We were thinking of a couple of weeks. To Cuba!"
A rapid series of expressions flickered across his face, and finally he said "Okay, but I'd better never see you again."
I love parents. ;)
On the August statutory holiday, late into my shift, I was talking to Fictional Correspondant on the phone. We were going on about whatever we felt like, including the basic insanity of women we've known. We went on a bit about relationships, and were contrasting various incidents with various femmes.
In the midst of me recounting an adventure with a choice bit of a line, my phone beeped. I looked, and someone had called and left me a voicemail. Ah well, we continued our conversation for another hour and a half or so (yeah, we're yappy. Big whoop, wanna fight about it?), my guard relieved me, and I headed on my way.
Walking to the SkyTrain, I remembered the voicemail and listened to it. It was from an ex I hadn't heard from in several years, and even more interestingly she'd left the message while I was telling a story about her.
It's these kinds of coincidences that make people believe in supernatural occurences. But not me.
Anyway, it was great to hear from her but neither of the two numbers she left me were hers, so I couldn't call her back. No email either. Gobsmack!
Oh! Also for that long weekend a couple of the cleaners (sisters) were going camping. I asked them to bring me a momento of their trip, like a pinecone or a rock or something.
They brought me seven ears of corn. Nice, but strange.
Getting back to Filipina Colada, she bent my ear for a while one night. It seems that she's very frustrated. You see, to get her immigration status she has to work for the same employer for two years. To manage that, she's "employed" by her uncle, or her great-uncle or some such, although there's no actual job. Which means that she has no income, beyond her parents slipping her a bit of money now and then.
She was a nurse, back home. Lived on her own, away from the bulk of her family, doing what she wanted, when she wanted, and with whom. But now she's stuck in a foreign country, living with her family (and wouldn't that get old after while?), and broke. AND unable to get a job that doesn't pay under the table, since that would look suspicious to immigration.
She and her parents argue about this a lot, because she thinks there are plenty of places to get money from that won't interfere with the immigration process, but her parents are being very protective of her. Calling her every half hour to see where she is and who she's with, and asking "Why do you need money?" when she floats the idea of getting some work.
So... I thought I'd help.
Later on, when they were all together, I went up to the dad and said "I need to talk to you."
FC's Dad: "Oh, is something wrong?"
Rimmy: "I want to marry this woman (pointing at Filipina Colada), but there's a problem."
FC's Mom: "So soon!"
FC's Dad: "What is the problem?"
Rimmy: "I'm a very lazy guy. I'm looking for a woman that makes enough money to let me sit on my ass at home doing nothing. So she has to have good work."
FC's Dad: "Ohhhhh. I have a car I can offer as dowry..."
Rimmy: "No no, but she needs to make more money or the deal's off."
At first, Filipina Colada was smiling during this, but towards the end she had her mouth covered in shock. I noticed that neither of the parents were taking it as a joke. I exited as gracefully as I could, but I did hear later that week that she would be working part-time with some caterers they knew. I'm sure it had nothing to do with me. :)
Also, the parents planned to have a surprise party for Filipina Colada's birthday, and wanted to make sure I'd attend. I agreed, and after some dickering about a present (your presence there will be enough), I got them to get me something that she'd said she wanted (clothing, and it was better to have them get the actual thing than for me to guess), and I paid them back. They appeared to be impressed that I got a gift, and indicated that Filipinos don't give birthday presents. Which is a damn lie, by the way.
Switching gears somewhat, when I got my schedule for the site (as I do every two weeks), I belatedly noticed that my shift for the second week was... gone. Not empty, not replaced, just... gone.
So I called Operations to ask them about it, and I got someone I didn't really know. He was less than helpful, saying he didn't know anything about it.
I patiently walked him through pulling up the details for my site, which he already knew how to do, but he wouldn't tell me if it was a deliberate change, or what. Evasive, it seemed.
So I called my Field Manager. He's a good guy. I laid it out for him, and asked if it was deliberate, or an oversight, or what. I told him "Look, I'm really just trying to find out if I should show up, or arrange to train a replacement for myself, or what."
He said "You are the absolute last person that will be removed from that site. All I ever hear about is how you've saved the site and how you're the best thing to ever happen to it. Oh no, all I hear is good and great things about you being there. So I'm sure it's just a scheduling error."
"Hold on," I said, "other than me, who would have said all those things?"
"Cookie Monster," he replied. "In meetings, he speaks of you as the savior of the site."
"That's strange," I told him, "because I can't get the time of day out of him, and certainly can't get anything for my site from him."
"Don't get me wrong," said my F/M, "he probably doesn't give a shit about your site. But he does recognise what you're doing there."
Well. Spank my ass and call me Charlie. Now I kind of wish I hadn't been so candid when I sent in the report card detailing his total lack of ability. Ah well.
Eventually, after about a week of trying to get someone to give me a straight answer about this scheduling thing, I got a hold of Cookie Monster, and it took him about thirty seconds of putting me on hold to get an answer (just an error) and get it fixed. Sigh.
Then... Samuel L. Jackson called me. It was really him! And, he knew my name!
I assumed that it was a gag, or at best a radio station doing something, but it wasn't. Turns out it was Fictional Correspondant using this website to remind me that we got motherfucking SNAKES!
It was fun, though. I'm glad he wasn't angry at me for wasting time on my hair-don't, though.
A day after that, the bike patrol guys didn't bother to show up for work at 1800. So what happened between 1830 and 1930? Two cars got broken into on the outside of my building. That should totally be laid at their door, but they're still working there. Do you think I'd be able to get away with that?
One of my guards phoned me on a Sunday.
Random Guard: "Hey Rimmy."
Rimmy: "Hi dude."
Random Guard: "How's everything going?"
Rimmy: "Cut the foreplay sailor - what's on your mind?"
Random Guard: "I'm just calling to tell you that a car flipped over in front of our building."
Now that's something that hasn't happened there before.
Rimmy: "How did that happen? It's a fairly staight stretch in front of our building."
Random Guard: "I'm not sure how it flipped, but a tree fell on it too!"
At this point I took the phone away from my ear and looked at it.
Rimmy: "What tree could have possibly fallen on a car on the road there?"
Random Guard: "I don't know. Maybe he was hauling the tree?"
Rimmy: "Is anybody hurt? You'll need to call emergency services."
Random Guard: "They're already here, all over the place."
Rimmy: "Okay then, note it on your report. Thanks for calling."
On Monday, I found that a guy had for some reason swerved up on the lawn of the next building over and across the street, clipped one of the small trees (on our side we have large ones, which is why I couldn't see how one would fall), and it tagged him as it fell. Good times.
For that entire week, nothing of note happened except that my weekday graveyard guard invited me to his child's... well, it's not a christening because he's Muslim, but the same basic thing. I had to turn him down because I had plans that would probably interfere, but it probably would have been interesting to go.
I later found out that in his culture they don't christen a child by breaking a bottle of champagne over their head like we do in my family. Different strokes for different folks, eh?
BUM! Bumbumbumbum BUM! Went to Phantom of the Opera. And let me tell you, Sarah Lawrence (as Christine) has a set of pipes on her. Note that I went on the night that the SkyTrain was having issues, and it looked like the doors were going to be closed at the QE Theatre before I got there, causing me to have to wait until intermission to get in. But luckily someone saw fit to cast Shifting the Odds (Fate 2) for me, and I made it with minutes to spare.
And it was good. It was Phantom.
Could have used more legroom, though. Goddamn midget interior decorators.
Remember Filipina Colada's surprised birthday party that I mentioned? Didn't happen. The relative who was going to host the place (she has a big enough house, I guess) was going to be out of town that weekend. She said the party could still be held there, but I guess family is important enough to these people that they decided to put off the party for a week. Since her actual birthday would fall on the Wednesday between the two dates, and since it seemed (by the reaction of her parents) that I'd be the only one giving her a present, I decided to give it to her (huh huh, I said I'd "give it to her") for her birthday rather than at the party.
So that's what I did. When she opened it, she exclaimed "I wanted something just like it! How did you know?" I wittily replied "Oh, I have good advisors." I of course assumed she was just kidding. Until...
"Mom! Look at what Rimmy got me! It's just like the one I wanted from Winners!"
Her mom eyes her for a moment, then procedes to investigate the thing she herself bought on my behalf.
Maybe this chick isn't as bright as I initially thought. Meh.
On Friday, Valium Wailer commented on the "blunt chisels" I seem to end up with at my site. Henceforth, my guards collectively are to be know as The Blunt Chisels, may Gord have mercy on their (boot) soles.
The day of the party arrives. I've been reminded of it every day for several weeks now. Not just from her family, but by their fellow workers as well. "Are you coming?" "Don't forget to come." "Only x days to go!" et cetera. Not to mention all the offers of rides and delivery services. Sigh.
At least I can spend a Saturday not wondering what my blunt chisels back at the site are doing.
Nobody would answer the door. I could hear them in there, but it appears that knocking and ringing the doorbell doesn't trigger the Filipino response to open the damn door. So I went around back and climbed up the stairs to the deck, and ran into Filipina Colada's dad.
For a touch of class, he was wearing a "No Stinky Beavers" t-shirt. Incredible.
All in all, it was a fun enough time. I spent somewhat less than five minutes with Filipina Colada herself, because when she showed up she was the centre of attention for the hundred or so people packed into the house, so I left her to those who wanted to bask in her presence. I mostly hung out on the deck with the few people there that I actually knew. Thank God I remembered a bit of spanish - between that and the english words they occasionally used, I was able to nail about one word in a hundred and using that along with the hand gestures, I could semi-follow the conversations around me.
Everybody seemed interested at various times in teaching me words, but since there are lots of different dialects, I came away with very little that was usable. Meh.
Also, they thought I would freak out at the various foods that were made. Roast pig, goat, "camel hump". Please - I have an indestructable stomach and it's not like they even decently spice their food. ;)
Towards the end of the evening lots of people had left or drifted away, and I was left with the dad. He'd been drinking bottle after bottle of beer, and a fair thwack of Hennesey. Drunk people are funny.
For example, the dad fixed me with that concentrated gaze that intoxicated people get, and accused me of having lied to him. Several times. So I asked him when I'd lied to him, and he responded that I'd never told him I was so white.
He'd never seen me out of uniform before - so just head and hands. That day I was wearing a t-shirt, and the underside of my arms is white. That's what he was on about.
A while later, he wanted me to get mad at him. He went on about it for a bit, wanting me to get mad at him. I asked him why, and he said "Because I've never seen you get angry before."
Of course, I pointed out that I have no reason to get angry at him. He replied with "Do I have to slap you, or box you to get you angry with me?" Fun times. lol
The best was when he had twisted in his chair to face me. It was an outdoor chair, one without arms, and he was sitting ninety degrees from normal. At one point he leaned back and in slow motion slid to the floor. Myself and another (possibly one of his brothers) helped him up and into his chair. He exclaimed loudly "You pushed me!"
I said "How could I have pushed you from over here?" (I was three or four meters away)
He said, and I quote, "You pushed me with your eyes!"
A fair number of people from inside the house had gone silent and were watching this unfold. I wondered if they thought that the stranger (me) had actually pushed this guy over. But nobody said anything, and his wife came out and said "You're drunk" and told him he should go to sleep.
I left not too long after that (it was eleven or so) and Filipina Colada walked with me down the block to the bus stop. We talked for a bit, then she licked the inside of my mouth goodbye.
Must be a Filipino thing. ;)
Come Monday, the dad was fairly apologetic. He sent me an sms, which I'll reproduce here:
08/28/06 16:25
+31415926535
So sorry for whatever things i have said or done last saturday. They told me i was rude on you and i really really apologize for all the bad things happened. So you now saw the real me. I hope you are still my friend. Filipina Colada's dad
Then about ninety minutes later he called me. He seemed so ashamed of himself, but I told him there was nothing to feel bad about. When I saw him, he said that he couldn't have faced me again if he hadn't apologised.
It turns out that he didn't really remember anything about it, but his entire family (literally dozens of people) told him the following morning that he was really rude to me. I told him that it was actually really funny, and I wasn't insulted at all. He said I was a good and forgiving guy. I tried not to laugh out loud.
And ever since, Filipina Colada has been a little more touchie-feely. She's more inclined to throw an arm around me, or trail a hand along my arm if we're in the same vicinity. Strange.
Also, she and her mother are of the opinion that I was so patient with her dad. "Nobody else wants to talk to him when he's had too much to drink, but you just stayed with him and didn't lose your temper." Unga?
And on Tuesday, August 29 we celebrated one year without Barney. We had a couple of cakes and all the Coke I could coax out of the vending machine. It was basically me and all of the cleaners (who couldn't stand Barney), but one of them invited their supervisor (who none of them really like). She tried to take over the proceedings, trying to make it into my one year anniversary of being a supervisor. She tried to get everybody to sing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow", but nobody bit. She tried to say a few (insincere) words, and then tried to get me to say a speech.
He's a little tip for you when you're with a bunch of people that don't know english idiom very well - don't try to work in, as I did, that you don't have an appendix, and instead have a gland that secretes pure awesome. Because they won't get it.
Indeed, and when you're working at a foreign business, it's important to learn the customs and body language of your new associates. Here are some of the most commonly misinterpreted gestures in other cultures, and what they mean:
Renovations are in full swing at the site. Or rather, the demolitions have been. The actual renovations will be starting soon. But before we could start smashing the place up, we emptied one half of the building, and squished all the people into the other half.
After they were safely moved, we had people come in to salvage the furnishings and equipment. So during that week, Cafeteria Lady complained that someone had taken her filing cabinets. She'd had them in a semi-public area - one that was slated for renovation. So... since she hadn't bothered to clear out her stuff, the cabinets were taken.
The client got her email/call, passed it on to Eyes & Ears, and he told Cafeteria Lady that he'd "get right on it". Of course, as he gleefully told me, he didn't get right on it. It went on his list, and she's a loooooooow priority on that list.
Apparently Cafeteria Lady sensed that because she went to Crazy Cougar Receptionist, sussed out the number for the furniture company, and called them up. She told them, and this is a more-or-less direct quote, "I don't care about the filing cabinets, I just want what's in them."
So there I was in the cafeteria, about half an hour after Cafeteria Lady had left, when a man wheeled in a large (almost the size of a stove) cardboard box on a furniture dolly. It was the contents of four full-sized filing cabinets. "Where do you want these?"
Eyes & Ears and myself were laughing so hard we almost couldn't see. We took possession and then tried to figure out how to get the most mileage out of this. After all, she did say that she didn't care about the actual cabinets... ;)
Needless to say she was unthrilled and has tried to ignore the contents of the box. But the client is having none of that, and assigned her a couple of new filing cabinets and instructed her to fill them. ;) It won't happen though, the cafeteria staff is done there sometime in September.
Moving along, Q-tip told me that Dicegimp has a girlfriend! Of course, it's someone who works the closing shift at the McDonalds located at the end of the block where the site is. He goes in there several times during his shift to get food, and that's how they met.
It should be noted that they have no interaction other than at the restaurant. She gives him food that they'd normally throw out.
Q-tip finds this disgusting. "He's taking their garbage!" But it goes a step further than that: at the end of his four-day work period, Dicegimp heads over to McDonalds and climbs into the dumpster and scavenges as many of the bags of tossed out food as he can, throws them into a black garbage bag, and hauls them back to the site so he doesn't have to grocery shop during his four days off.
His supervisor caught him doing that one night - hunched over like a weird Santa Claus under his bulging sack (ewww) he looked like a "suspicious person" and the supervisor moved to intercept. Then Dicegimp straightened up and the supervisor realized it was his guard. So sad. ;)
The daughter of the cleaners at work, the one whose parents have been pushing me towards her... I need a name for her. I'm going to call her Filipina Colada, as in the song "Do You Like Filipina Coladas?"
Anyway, her birthday was coming up (this is about three or four weeks ago), and she bounced up behind me, threw an arm around me, and told her dad that "Rimmy is taking me out for my birthday, aren't you Rimmy?"
"Of course I am!" I craftily replied.
"How can that be," her father asked, "you have to work!"
Rimmy: "I'm the supervisor. If I want to leave, I'm going to leave."
FC's Dad: "Well, for just one night, that's not so bad."
Rimmy: "One night? We were thinking of a couple of weeks. To Cuba!"
A rapid series of expressions flickered across his face, and finally he said "Okay, but I'd better never see you again."
I love parents. ;)
On the August statutory holiday, late into my shift, I was talking to Fictional Correspondant on the phone. We were going on about whatever we felt like, including the basic insanity of women we've known. We went on a bit about relationships, and were contrasting various incidents with various femmes.
In the midst of me recounting an adventure with a choice bit of a line, my phone beeped. I looked, and someone had called and left me a voicemail. Ah well, we continued our conversation for another hour and a half or so (yeah, we're yappy. Big whoop, wanna fight about it?), my guard relieved me, and I headed on my way.
Walking to the SkyTrain, I remembered the voicemail and listened to it. It was from an ex I hadn't heard from in several years, and even more interestingly she'd left the message while I was telling a story about her.
It's these kinds of coincidences that make people believe in supernatural occurences. But not me.
Anyway, it was great to hear from her but neither of the two numbers she left me were hers, so I couldn't call her back. No email either. Gobsmack!
Oh! Also for that long weekend a couple of the cleaners (sisters) were going camping. I asked them to bring me a momento of their trip, like a pinecone or a rock or something.
They brought me seven ears of corn. Nice, but strange.
Getting back to Filipina Colada, she bent my ear for a while one night. It seems that she's very frustrated. You see, to get her immigration status she has to work for the same employer for two years. To manage that, she's "employed" by her uncle, or her great-uncle or some such, although there's no actual job. Which means that she has no income, beyond her parents slipping her a bit of money now and then.
She was a nurse, back home. Lived on her own, away from the bulk of her family, doing what she wanted, when she wanted, and with whom. But now she's stuck in a foreign country, living with her family (and wouldn't that get old after while?), and broke. AND unable to get a job that doesn't pay under the table, since that would look suspicious to immigration.
She and her parents argue about this a lot, because she thinks there are plenty of places to get money from that won't interfere with the immigration process, but her parents are being very protective of her. Calling her every half hour to see where she is and who she's with, and asking "Why do you need money?" when she floats the idea of getting some work.
So... I thought I'd help.
Later on, when they were all together, I went up to the dad and said "I need to talk to you."
FC's Dad: "Oh, is something wrong?"
Rimmy: "I want to marry this woman (pointing at Filipina Colada), but there's a problem."
FC's Mom: "So soon!"
FC's Dad: "What is the problem?"
Rimmy: "I'm a very lazy guy. I'm looking for a woman that makes enough money to let me sit on my ass at home doing nothing. So she has to have good work."
FC's Dad: "Ohhhhh. I have a car I can offer as dowry..."
Rimmy: "No no, but she needs to make more money or the deal's off."
At first, Filipina Colada was smiling during this, but towards the end she had her mouth covered in shock. I noticed that neither of the parents were taking it as a joke. I exited as gracefully as I could, but I did hear later that week that she would be working part-time with some caterers they knew. I'm sure it had nothing to do with me. :)
Also, the parents planned to have a surprise party for Filipina Colada's birthday, and wanted to make sure I'd attend. I agreed, and after some dickering about a present (your presence there will be enough), I got them to get me something that she'd said she wanted (clothing, and it was better to have them get the actual thing than for me to guess), and I paid them back. They appeared to be impressed that I got a gift, and indicated that Filipinos don't give birthday presents. Which is a damn lie, by the way.
Switching gears somewhat, when I got my schedule for the site (as I do every two weeks), I belatedly noticed that my shift for the second week was... gone. Not empty, not replaced, just... gone.
So I called Operations to ask them about it, and I got someone I didn't really know. He was less than helpful, saying he didn't know anything about it.
I patiently walked him through pulling up the details for my site, which he already knew how to do, but he wouldn't tell me if it was a deliberate change, or what. Evasive, it seemed.
So I called my Field Manager. He's a good guy. I laid it out for him, and asked if it was deliberate, or an oversight, or what. I told him "Look, I'm really just trying to find out if I should show up, or arrange to train a replacement for myself, or what."
He said "You are the absolute last person that will be removed from that site. All I ever hear about is how you've saved the site and how you're the best thing to ever happen to it. Oh no, all I hear is good and great things about you being there. So I'm sure it's just a scheduling error."
"Hold on," I said, "other than me, who would have said all those things?"
"Cookie Monster," he replied. "In meetings, he speaks of you as the savior of the site."
"That's strange," I told him, "because I can't get the time of day out of him, and certainly can't get anything for my site from him."
"Don't get me wrong," said my F/M, "he probably doesn't give a shit about your site. But he does recognise what you're doing there."
Well. Spank my ass and call me Charlie. Now I kind of wish I hadn't been so candid when I sent in the report card detailing his total lack of ability. Ah well.
Eventually, after about a week of trying to get someone to give me a straight answer about this scheduling thing, I got a hold of Cookie Monster, and it took him about thirty seconds of putting me on hold to get an answer (just an error) and get it fixed. Sigh.
Then... Samuel L. Jackson called me. It was really him! And, he knew my name!
I assumed that it was a gag, or at best a radio station doing something, but it wasn't. Turns out it was Fictional Correspondant using this website to remind me that we got motherfucking SNAKES!
It was fun, though. I'm glad he wasn't angry at me for wasting time on my hair-don't, though.
A day after that, the bike patrol guys didn't bother to show up for work at 1800. So what happened between 1830 and 1930? Two cars got broken into on the outside of my building. That should totally be laid at their door, but they're still working there. Do you think I'd be able to get away with that?
One of my guards phoned me on a Sunday.
Random Guard: "Hey Rimmy."
Rimmy: "Hi dude."
Random Guard: "How's everything going?"
Rimmy: "Cut the foreplay sailor - what's on your mind?"
Random Guard: "I'm just calling to tell you that a car flipped over in front of our building."
Now that's something that hasn't happened there before.
Rimmy: "How did that happen? It's a fairly staight stretch in front of our building."
Random Guard: "I'm not sure how it flipped, but a tree fell on it too!"
At this point I took the phone away from my ear and looked at it.
Rimmy: "What tree could have possibly fallen on a car on the road there?"
Random Guard: "I don't know. Maybe he was hauling the tree?"
Rimmy: "Is anybody hurt? You'll need to call emergency services."
Random Guard: "They're already here, all over the place."
Rimmy: "Okay then, note it on your report. Thanks for calling."
On Monday, I found that a guy had for some reason swerved up on the lawn of the next building over and across the street, clipped one of the small trees (on our side we have large ones, which is why I couldn't see how one would fall), and it tagged him as it fell. Good times.
For that entire week, nothing of note happened except that my weekday graveyard guard invited me to his child's... well, it's not a christening because he's Muslim, but the same basic thing. I had to turn him down because I had plans that would probably interfere, but it probably would have been interesting to go.
I later found out that in his culture they don't christen a child by breaking a bottle of champagne over their head like we do in my family. Different strokes for different folks, eh?
BUM! Bumbumbumbum BUM! Went to Phantom of the Opera. And let me tell you, Sarah Lawrence (as Christine) has a set of pipes on her. Note that I went on the night that the SkyTrain was having issues, and it looked like the doors were going to be closed at the QE Theatre before I got there, causing me to have to wait until intermission to get in. But luckily someone saw fit to cast Shifting the Odds (Fate 2) for me, and I made it with minutes to spare.
And it was good. It was Phantom.
Could have used more legroom, though. Goddamn midget interior decorators.
Remember Filipina Colada's surprised birthday party that I mentioned? Didn't happen. The relative who was going to host the place (she has a big enough house, I guess) was going to be out of town that weekend. She said the party could still be held there, but I guess family is important enough to these people that they decided to put off the party for a week. Since her actual birthday would fall on the Wednesday between the two dates, and since it seemed (by the reaction of her parents) that I'd be the only one giving her a present, I decided to give it to her (huh huh, I said I'd "give it to her") for her birthday rather than at the party.
So that's what I did. When she opened it, she exclaimed "I wanted something just like it! How did you know?" I wittily replied "Oh, I have good advisors." I of course assumed she was just kidding. Until...
"Mom! Look at what Rimmy got me! It's just like the one I wanted from Winners!"
Her mom eyes her for a moment, then procedes to investigate the thing she herself bought on my behalf.
Maybe this chick isn't as bright as I initially thought. Meh.
On Friday, Valium Wailer commented on the "blunt chisels" I seem to end up with at my site. Henceforth, my guards collectively are to be know as The Blunt Chisels, may Gord have mercy on their (boot) soles.
The day of the party arrives. I've been reminded of it every day for several weeks now. Not just from her family, but by their fellow workers as well. "Are you coming?" "Don't forget to come." "Only x days to go!" et cetera. Not to mention all the offers of rides and delivery services. Sigh.
At least I can spend a Saturday not wondering what my blunt chisels back at the site are doing.
Nobody would answer the door. I could hear them in there, but it appears that knocking and ringing the doorbell doesn't trigger the Filipino response to open the damn door. So I went around back and climbed up the stairs to the deck, and ran into Filipina Colada's dad.
For a touch of class, he was wearing a "No Stinky Beavers" t-shirt. Incredible.
All in all, it was a fun enough time. I spent somewhat less than five minutes with Filipina Colada herself, because when she showed up she was the centre of attention for the hundred or so people packed into the house, so I left her to those who wanted to bask in her presence. I mostly hung out on the deck with the few people there that I actually knew. Thank God I remembered a bit of spanish - between that and the english words they occasionally used, I was able to nail about one word in a hundred and using that along with the hand gestures, I could semi-follow the conversations around me.
Everybody seemed interested at various times in teaching me words, but since there are lots of different dialects, I came away with very little that was usable. Meh.
Also, they thought I would freak out at the various foods that were made. Roast pig, goat, "camel hump". Please - I have an indestructable stomach and it's not like they even decently spice their food. ;)
Towards the end of the evening lots of people had left or drifted away, and I was left with the dad. He'd been drinking bottle after bottle of beer, and a fair thwack of Hennesey. Drunk people are funny.
For example, the dad fixed me with that concentrated gaze that intoxicated people get, and accused me of having lied to him. Several times. So I asked him when I'd lied to him, and he responded that I'd never told him I was so white.
He'd never seen me out of uniform before - so just head and hands. That day I was wearing a t-shirt, and the underside of my arms is white. That's what he was on about.
A while later, he wanted me to get mad at him. He went on about it for a bit, wanting me to get mad at him. I asked him why, and he said "Because I've never seen you get angry before."
Of course, I pointed out that I have no reason to get angry at him. He replied with "Do I have to slap you, or box you to get you angry with me?" Fun times. lol
The best was when he had twisted in his chair to face me. It was an outdoor chair, one without arms, and he was sitting ninety degrees from normal. At one point he leaned back and in slow motion slid to the floor. Myself and another (possibly one of his brothers) helped him up and into his chair. He exclaimed loudly "You pushed me!"
I said "How could I have pushed you from over here?" (I was three or four meters away)
He said, and I quote, "You pushed me with your eyes!"
A fair number of people from inside the house had gone silent and were watching this unfold. I wondered if they thought that the stranger (me) had actually pushed this guy over. But nobody said anything, and his wife came out and said "You're drunk" and told him he should go to sleep.
I left not too long after that (it was eleven or so) and Filipina Colada walked with me down the block to the bus stop. We talked for a bit, then she licked the inside of my mouth goodbye.
Must be a Filipino thing. ;)
Come Monday, the dad was fairly apologetic. He sent me an sms, which I'll reproduce here:
08/28/06 16:25
+31415926535
So sorry for whatever things i have said or done last saturday. They told me i was rude on you and i really really apologize for all the bad things happened. So you now saw the real me. I hope you are still my friend. Filipina Colada's dad
Then about ninety minutes later he called me. He seemed so ashamed of himself, but I told him there was nothing to feel bad about. When I saw him, he said that he couldn't have faced me again if he hadn't apologised.
It turns out that he didn't really remember anything about it, but his entire family (literally dozens of people) told him the following morning that he was really rude to me. I told him that it was actually really funny, and I wasn't insulted at all. He said I was a good and forgiving guy. I tried not to laugh out loud.
And ever since, Filipina Colada has been a little more touchie-feely. She's more inclined to throw an arm around me, or trail a hand along my arm if we're in the same vicinity. Strange.
Also, she and her mother are of the opinion that I was so patient with her dad. "Nobody else wants to talk to him when he's had too much to drink, but you just stayed with him and didn't lose your temper." Unga?
And on Tuesday, August 29 we celebrated one year without Barney. We had a couple of cakes and all the Coke I could coax out of the vending machine. It was basically me and all of the cleaners (who couldn't stand Barney), but one of them invited their supervisor (who none of them really like). She tried to take over the proceedings, trying to make it into my one year anniversary of being a supervisor. She tried to get everybody to sing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow", but nobody bit. She tried to say a few (insincere) words, and then tried to get me to say a speech.
He's a little tip for you when you're with a bunch of people that don't know english idiom very well - don't try to work in, as I did, that you don't have an appendix, and instead have a gland that secretes pure awesome. Because they won't get it.
Indeed, and when you're working at a foreign business, it's important to learn the customs and body language of your new associates. Here are some of the most commonly misinterpreted gestures in other cultures, and what they mean:
- Nigeria: Eye contact in restroom legally transfers bicycle ownership.
- Ukraine: Smiling means you successfully fixed a national election.
- Thailand: Closed fist moving up-and-down in a "wanking" motion can be misinterpreted as "You are a good little boy and are working very hard to make the sailors happy around the 'house'".
- Sudan: Twiddling your thumbs means you are bragging that the warlords have yet to cut off your thumbs.
- Germany: Shaking your head communicates "I was unimpressed by your avantgarde one-man show last night".
- Dominican Republic: Scratching your forearm and adjusting your shirt-sleeve can be misinterpreted as the hit-and-run sign.
- Angola: International sign for choking equals "Hello".
- International: While both fists thrust forward with the index and pinkie fingers extended means "Metallica!" in North America, it means "Sepultura!" in Central/South America and "Turbonegro!" in Europe.
Hope that helps!
Mmmm, I forgot to mention that with all the jokes I was getting at work from the employees that if I actually went to the barbeque, I'd come back married to Filipina Colada, I decided to wear a ring (on my finger, not through my nose) on the Monday afterwards. Two people noticed it and gave me a quick look and demanded an explanation. One was cool about it, the other insistant. Mission accomplished.
It's worth noting though if I ever do get married, the wedding ceremony won't end with the bridge and groom kissing. Instead, it will end with us smalling our Power Force rings together and shouting, "Our powers combined, we are THE MARRIAGE FORCE!" Then we'll blast a hole in the ceiling with our ring lasers and fly off into the sunset. Ah, romance.
posted by Rimmy at 12:45
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