Please bomb my workplace
◊ Howdy, you sexy, delicious WORKDAY FROM HELL.
I was woken up not by the irritating chirping of my alarm clock, but by a jackhammer. A jackhammer, folks. A jackhammer less than a hundred yards from my window.
I should've just killed myself right then and there.
I went to work an hour early to cover for a co-worker. I fucked up so many times today, it wasn't even funny. The filter tore when I was brewing coffee. I rescued the $25 worth of coffee I was about to brew, but only barely. I forgot to pour the hot water out of the airpots so they overflowed all over the counter when I was re-brewing. I ground some beans on the wrong setting and had to sneak them into the trash can when nobody was looking. I incorrectly restocked the fridge. Customers kept changing their minds and making it look like I'd fucked up their orders.
Some guy freaked out and started waving a knife at people in the parking lot and scared some kids so they came and hung out in the store while they waited for the cops to show up. This had me flustered, so I fucked up even more.
Worst of all, I kept asking stupid questions of all the staff and everyone looked at me with this "I'm a barista, not a 'tard wrangler, so shut the fuck up and go away" expression.
And everyone made fun of me.
I deserved it, too, because I was being an idiot.
The only good thing about it is that I picked up a paycheck. It's only about $70 but that gets me a whole lot closer to some piercings. I'm deciding between tongue or nipples, at this point.
I'm leaning toward my tongue. (How does one lean toward one's own tongue? I do not know.) Only problem is that if I get a tongue piercing, I'll talk like an idiot until the swelling goes down, and I won't be able to put my mouth on other people for a few weeks.
This is a sad thing.
The mouth thing, that is. I always talk like an idiot.
I'm also told it's a terrible idea to smoke with a brand-new tongue skewer, so I'm thinking I should do it soon, before I'm hopelessly addicted to the cancer sticks.
Because I'm not addicted already, I swear. It's purely a social thing.
["It's purely a social thing" means I bribe people with cigarettes if they will come on smoke breaks with me. It also means I smoke alone outside my work so that carcinogen-happy potential customers will see me and say "I think I will go buy coffee at that place, since their employees have a death wish, like I do."]
[Hey, it all makes sense in my head.]
Oh, and cell phone? Fuck you for not ringing when I'm bored.
And an extra fuck you for ringing nonstop when I'm trying to masturbate.