Random
Recently, to give myself more floorspace, I removed the three-quarters semicircle of Perrier bottles around my command chair. Two hundred and four of them, to be precise.
At 750 ml per, that's a quick 153 litres of lemon Perrier I downed. Not all in one sitting, of course. I'm hardly Bullet Tooth Tony, after all.
Heading to the local Safeway to restock, I picked up eight bottles and some Ribena. At the counter, the checker picked up the Ribena and asked me "Is this for you?"
Wondering who she thought it was for, I said "Yes."
"And do you mix it with this Perrier?"
A bit nosy, isn't it? "Yes."
"That's very European" says she, and doesn't speak for the rest of the transaction, including not telling me what my total is. Weirdo.
Filipina Colada is her usual self, touching me more than she actually has to. Got me to rub her shoulders and neck the other day by dint of subtly putting my hands there and saying "I'm SO sore!" Sneaky.
Somehow contraception came up, and she didn't know that you could avoid having a period at all by only using the three weeks worth of birth control pills, and then going to the next ring. She also, as it turns out, thought that the earlier you being menstrating the sooner you need to have kids, since you run out of eggs sooner. She claims they taught her that in nurse school. Interesting.
Last week, as part of the preparations for installing a new elevator, a crew came in to image the area before doing some coring. I was told that nobody should come within fifty feet of the emitter. Fair enough.
Of course, nobody had told the cleaners, so I went around and told them that they wouldn't be able to get back into their room for the rest of the night. Most of them were okay with that, since I gave them another room to use.
But the couple (married) that do the bathrooms were another matter. I caught them on the third floor, and explained it to them. Since none of the cleaners has english as a first language, and "radiation" isn't the easiest thing to explain with hand gestures, I finally hit upon the idea of describing it like when a dentist takes pictures of your teeth, only strong enough to penetrate concrete.
The husband was okay with it, but the wife got a frightened look on her face. I started to reassure her, but she was backing away saying "Please, I can't. I'm a mother. It might be okay for my husband, but I have two children. Please." and she threw down her mop and ran away out of the building. Clearly I need to work on my speaking mannerisms.
Q-tip has heard from DiceGimp!
DiceGimp, if you'll remember, was "promoted" (removed) from the site for (various accumulated offenses) eating garbage in his uniform. But he called up Q-tip nearly in tears, because he's so frustrated.
It seems that on his new site, there's a supervisor. This guy has the nerve to tell DiceGimp what to do!
The supervisor also reviews what his guards actually do. They have to use a pipe system (they electronically tag where they've been and when), so DiceGimp can't just say he's patrolled - the record demonstrates it. And it's reviewed by said supervisor. DiceGimp is used to sleeping and doing nothing, but can't do that now.
And the supervisor rides him for being a useless guard (which is true), especially since the day after his training, his first shift alone, he was doing nothing and the place got broken into for the first time in two years.
DiceGimp wants to come back to the old site, but Q-tip has gleefully informed him that there's no room at the inn. ;)
Another trip to Safeway and they were out of the icecream I dig, so I picked up some Haagen Dazs as a substitute. When I got to the counter, the checker started in with "Haagen Dazs! Clearly you're a man of distiction!"
I laughed and said it was a substitute, but she went on about ice cream for a bit. A bit flirty, but that's okay.
The flirting kept on, and as I was starting to go she said "So I guess you're off work and heading home to eat that ice cream, eh?"
"Yup."
"What a coincidence, I'm off work too and ready to go." (significant look my way)
Oh. Oh...
Nah. "Have fun!"
She was cute enough, but I think she only wanted my icecream.
Or maybe she smelled the soap I'm using. Sure, I pay something like seven bucks per hundred milligrams and it's mildly explosive, but it's pretty nice soap. Pure frikkin girlbait!
Enjoy:
Star Trek Cribs:
At 750 ml per, that's a quick 153 litres of lemon Perrier I downed. Not all in one sitting, of course. I'm hardly Bullet Tooth Tony, after all.
Heading to the local Safeway to restock, I picked up eight bottles and some Ribena. At the counter, the checker picked up the Ribena and asked me "Is this for you?"
Wondering who she thought it was for, I said "Yes."
"And do you mix it with this Perrier?"
A bit nosy, isn't it? "Yes."
"That's very European" says she, and doesn't speak for the rest of the transaction, including not telling me what my total is. Weirdo.
Filipina Colada is her usual self, touching me more than she actually has to. Got me to rub her shoulders and neck the other day by dint of subtly putting my hands there and saying "I'm SO sore!" Sneaky.
Somehow contraception came up, and she didn't know that you could avoid having a period at all by only using the three weeks worth of birth control pills, and then going to the next ring. She also, as it turns out, thought that the earlier you being menstrating the sooner you need to have kids, since you run out of eggs sooner. She claims they taught her that in nurse school. Interesting.
Last week, as part of the preparations for installing a new elevator, a crew came in to image the area before doing some coring. I was told that nobody should come within fifty feet of the emitter. Fair enough.
Of course, nobody had told the cleaners, so I went around and told them that they wouldn't be able to get back into their room for the rest of the night. Most of them were okay with that, since I gave them another room to use.
But the couple (married) that do the bathrooms were another matter. I caught them on the third floor, and explained it to them. Since none of the cleaners has english as a first language, and "radiation" isn't the easiest thing to explain with hand gestures, I finally hit upon the idea of describing it like when a dentist takes pictures of your teeth, only strong enough to penetrate concrete.
The husband was okay with it, but the wife got a frightened look on her face. I started to reassure her, but she was backing away saying "Please, I can't. I'm a mother. It might be okay for my husband, but I have two children. Please." and she threw down her mop and ran away out of the building. Clearly I need to work on my speaking mannerisms.
Q-tip has heard from DiceGimp!
DiceGimp, if you'll remember, was "promoted" (removed) from the site for (various accumulated offenses) eating garbage in his uniform. But he called up Q-tip nearly in tears, because he's so frustrated.
It seems that on his new site, there's a supervisor. This guy has the nerve to tell DiceGimp what to do!
The supervisor also reviews what his guards actually do. They have to use a pipe system (they electronically tag where they've been and when), so DiceGimp can't just say he's patrolled - the record demonstrates it. And it's reviewed by said supervisor. DiceGimp is used to sleeping and doing nothing, but can't do that now.
And the supervisor rides him for being a useless guard (which is true), especially since the day after his training, his first shift alone, he was doing nothing and the place got broken into for the first time in two years.
DiceGimp wants to come back to the old site, but Q-tip has gleefully informed him that there's no room at the inn. ;)
Another trip to Safeway and they were out of the icecream I dig, so I picked up some Haagen Dazs as a substitute. When I got to the counter, the checker started in with "Haagen Dazs! Clearly you're a man of distiction!"
I laughed and said it was a substitute, but she went on about ice cream for a bit. A bit flirty, but that's okay.
The flirting kept on, and as I was starting to go she said "So I guess you're off work and heading home to eat that ice cream, eh?"
"Yup."
"What a coincidence, I'm off work too and ready to go." (significant look my way)
Oh. Oh...
Nah. "Have fun!"
She was cute enough, but I think she only wanted my icecream.
Or maybe she smelled the soap I'm using. Sure, I pay something like seven bucks per hundred milligrams and it's mildly explosive, but it's pretty nice soap. Pure frikkin girlbait!
Enjoy:
Star Trek Cribs:
posted by Rimmy at 09:49
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