Friday, March 13, 2009

Ooh...So Lovely....

Danny Gokey? No, just Mike Galster, NYNY's Bartender Idol.

I was running late to work, which is nothing new, and there was another girl who was also rushing from the employee parking lot to the elevator at the same time. I pushed the button and we both waited impatiently as the elevator finally lit on our floor and the doors opened. There was another employee already inside, and as we stepped in, he said, very dramatically, "Welcome to the morgue."

Neither I nor the girl acknowledged him, although I did a quick glance his way before I turned around to face the doors, my back towards him, and she did the same. And I just instinctively did an eyeroll and mock dry heave to myself. I didn't even know the guy. And from the way the other girl reacted, neither did she. I don't know if he was a casino porter or what, but it was just completely stupid. I mean, did he think we would both break out in giggles?

Or was that a commentary on how slow our casino business was and an invitation for the three of us to start bashing our place of employment? I really hate the whole negativity of spoiled, ungrateful people who don't know how lucky they are just to be alive in a free country with access to clean water and be able to shit in a flushing toilet. If you hate your job so much, fucking quit and let someone else take your place. I don't love my job because I don't love the fact I have to work for a living, period. But I love the fact that I have a job, such a great job, especially in such hard times.

The ride to the employee level wasn't that long, and usually the music that's heard in the casino is piped in to the elevator too, but this time it was just silent. I really wanted to start laughing because I knew the guy was standing back there, probably still thinking he's some ladies' man who just zinged us with his comic wit when we're both thinking, what a complete fucktard. Maybe she wasn't going into the whole deep job-appreciation thing that I was, but she still thought it.

When the door opened and we got out, I ran out first because, well, I was really running late and I wanted to get the hell away from the guy. But because I'm short and have extremely short legs, and maybe because he was stalking me or because of serendipity or some other karmic bullshit, he seemed to be right at my heels when I reached the employee entrance. So, because I'm not a complete asshole, when I opened the door, I held it open behind me for him. And you know what he said?

He uttered, " lovely...." under his breath. The thing that guys in trench coats say in that creepy way as they're jerking off to kiddie porn. I mean, geez, dude. I just held the door for you, not invite you into my love shack.

I almost felt like he gave me an STD.

And yesterday was such a great day.


nunya said...

Hmmmm. Keep writing. I'll be back. Whhooo, girl, I thought I was cynical, I don't think I'd last ten minutes as a cocktail waitress in Vegas. That was not a jab, my mother was a cocktail waitress.

Denny said...

I followed a link over from waiter rant. You should definately update more! I enjoyed the few posts here and found your writing style funny and entertaining. Good luck

Jim said...

Hi! - Linked to you from the waiter's blog - Love your attitude and I enjoy your sense of humor! Please write more!

jayjay said...

Loved your description of the guy in the lift - the joy of confined spaces. I only discovered your blog today thanks to Steve Dublanica and just hope he has provided you with enough inspiration to keep blogging. You're now added to my daily blog round. Happy blogging.

JoeinVegas said...

Oh come on, we try so hard to come up with a witty line. Just because they are lame doesn't mean we aren't trying. Please.

Michael said...

Great insight, while we all definitely have moments where we may not love work. I would definitely agree that people really should keep it to themselves in mixed company.