This week I began working in the public eye after ten plus years of being a desk jockey. My feet are killing me as are my hips, and I'm beginning to remember just how much pain one's body goes through standing for eight hours. By the end of the night my feet and hips hurt so bad I couldn't do anything except lean on the counter and shift my weight back and forth. Ugh. Thank goodness for drive-through daquiris.
Listed also among the things I had forgotten was just how miserable most people are in a customer service position; especially a face to face one. The pay is low, the hours suck, and being at the bottom of the ladder means doing the most work. Personally, I'm happy just to have a job so I can put up with any number of gripes. This has also served as a reminder as to why it's imperative I finish my bachelors degree as soon as possible. I'm too good to be a grunt at property #2B4QZ---whatever.
Having said that, there are definitely amusing moments in the position. Single ladies, look no further. If you want to find a strong young man with too much time and money on his hands come on by. The hotel I work at hosts frequent groups of oil company workers. All of these roughnecks and riggers are in pretty decent shape too. I'm apparently allergic to whatever they're bringing in from the rigs and don't have an interest in any of them as they're a little too rugged for me. Might be a good option for others in the neighborhood, though.
One guy came up and asked for laundry soap for the machines, then balked at the $1 a load price. Still, he said he'd buy it because he hated waiting for his buddies to go to the grocery store to pick up the bulk Tide. "It takes them three hours to get done on a shopping trip," said the poor, tired Mexican.
"Why does it take them so long?" I asked.
"They're out there looking for girls."
I suppose there are worse places to pick up chicks than the ketchup aisle, but it seems to me to be more challenging than necessary.
I also find myself relating to Fawlty Towers a lot more now. Not so much John Cleese's character, but the fact that I keep seeing the same faces so many days in a row. This property has a lot of regular repeat customers so it's kind of like a sitcom in that way too. Lots of moments that are important to someone but drone on as part of the background for me. I'm half tempted to wear a white button up shirt with black pants, fake moustache, and nametag stating "Manuel" for April 1st. All I'll say to people is "que?" and address my co-worker as "Meestah Fawlty". Sheer hilarity.
Listed also among the things I had forgotten was just how miserable most people are in a customer service position; especially a face to face one. The pay is low, the hours suck, and being at the bottom of the ladder means doing the most work. Personally, I'm happy just to have a job so I can put up with any number of gripes. This has also served as a reminder as to why it's imperative I finish my bachelors degree as soon as possible. I'm too good to be a grunt at property #2B4QZ---whatever.
Having said that, there are definitely amusing moments in the position. Single ladies, look no further. If you want to find a strong young man with too much time and money on his hands come on by. The hotel I work at hosts frequent groups of oil company workers. All of these roughnecks and riggers are in pretty decent shape too. I'm apparently allergic to whatever they're bringing in from the rigs and don't have an interest in any of them as they're a little too rugged for me. Might be a good option for others in the neighborhood, though.
One guy came up and asked for laundry soap for the machines, then balked at the $1 a load price. Still, he said he'd buy it because he hated waiting for his buddies to go to the grocery store to pick up the bulk Tide. "It takes them three hours to get done on a shopping trip," said the poor, tired Mexican.
"Why does it take them so long?" I asked.
"They're out there looking for girls."
I suppose there are worse places to pick up chicks than the ketchup aisle, but it seems to me to be more challenging than necessary.
I also find myself relating to Fawlty Towers a lot more now. Not so much John Cleese's character, but the fact that I keep seeing the same faces so many days in a row. This property has a lot of regular repeat customers so it's kind of like a sitcom in that way too. Lots of moments that are important to someone but drone on as part of the background for me. I'm half tempted to wear a white button up shirt with black pants, fake moustache, and nametag stating "Manuel" for April 1st. All I'll say to people is "que?" and address my co-worker as "Meestah Fawlty". Sheer hilarity.
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