I was at a restaurant with the sig otro the other night, and the following happened.
We got our check, and the our super-nice and thoughtful waitress had written, “Thank you!” on it in a cheerful, helpful script, and we were both like “Awwwww” but not in an annoying couply way (OBVI).
So then when I was signing my check (we split the bill like 21st century feminist astronauts), I wrote “Thank you!” on it.
And then boyfie was all, “Don’t write that! It looks sarcastic!” Then I thought about underlining the “you” but that would have looked even more sarcastic.
So I had gotten myself in a real muddle, because he was right. I tried to one-up her sincere niceness game and I ended up looking like a perfunctory pickle trying to masquerade as a cool, collected cucumber. She probably took one look and ripped it up…with her teeth!
I am the straw that broke the customer servant’s back!
Waitresses are people too! And how!
photo courtesy of Flickr and flattop341
In PWNED news, I had to IM the IT guy today to ask him an urgent question (hadn’t happened in awhile), and his new AIM icon was a large, glaring tribal mask.
It doesn’t take a symbology major to pick up on the subtlety there.
So naturally, the following conversation ensued:
Aparna: angry tiki mask
IT Guy: That is its purpose.
IT Guy: It keeps away evil spirits.
IT Guy: Are you an evil spirit?
Aparna: how dare you
Anyway, things escalated and I ended up having to pay him an actual face-to-face visit for SUPER REAL help with a NOT IMAGINARY problem.
Sad story short, it ended up being a minor glitch that I could’ve fixed myself and IT Guy communicated this information to me very clearly using a language exclusively made up of snorts and eyerolls.
But then I looked at some of these (July 23 is perfection) to feel better about myself. And it worked. Of course.
This is me, actually.
photo courtesy of Flickr and rileyroxx
Help request? More like Self-Help request; am I right, Crazies?!
Other quick notes of (dis)interest:
I realize I’m ok with the stairwell at work smelling like urine. I know this because I didn’t even flinch today when I noticed that the stairwell at work smelled like urine! Even though it’s never smelled like that before!
Conclusion: I’m open-minded!
I have a bug-bite stigmata on my foot. It’s a Bermuda triangle of itching and yellow skin pus caps. It seeps regularly, and all the bites operate as one trained unit in terms of ambiguous excretions.
Conclusion: Too much information? Not enough calamine!
I learned this new corporate drone term—spitballing! And I can’t stop using it.
Conclusion: I’m not completely sold on it yet as breakout star of my new, as-yet-to-be-determined catchphrase but maybe toss some more popaway flys at me, and we’ll touch base soon, chief! (sports metaphors dropped with casual enthuzed-ness are the only thing worse! *fist pumps and pounds all around*)