November 16, 2004

It was an ordinary day.

The weather is getting colder and strawberries are once again out of season. Happens every Thanksgiving, eh?

There were beaucoup problems at work. They don't call it H.W. for nothing. Everything seemed out of synch. Nothing worked just right or was broken. A little off-kilter. And some of my passive-aggressive team members tried to "show-out." Meaning they weren't on their best behavior and wanted to engage me in their chaos to which I didn't want to be a party.

"Why are you always pickin' on me?" Susie, the silverware roller asked in the afternoon.

"Susie, I'm not picking on you, but when you wipe your mouth on your apron, I have to say something."

Susie just looked at me in disbelief. She doesn't like to be told anything and likes to do whatever she wants. She does enjoy the role of victim. I am no psych0, er, analyst but this is one layman's opinion.

Later....

"Susie, be sure and wash your hands when you use your hands to wipe the voluminous sweat off your face." I politely scolded.

"Is there anything else that's wrong, while I'm standing here?" she said in her most perfect p.a. tone.

"Yes, Susie. I'm sorry but I need you to wear a hair net. And please remove your apron, the one with the bright cherry stains and black carbon build-up. It doesn't look good to the guests." I countered meekly.

Later....

Susie is trying to get on my "good" side.

"The people using the bathroom must be eating the toilet paper. Second role today," she said to me as I was working in my office dutifully perusing the holiday orders.

"Ha ha, that's a good one, Susie." I said. Hopefully, she knows to wash her hands after a trip to the lavatory I privately mused.

Later me and Susie's paths met again....

"Susie, can you help us serve the guests out here on the firing, er, serving line? Please!"

"Be right there," she said wiping her dripping forehead with her own personal towel.

"Susie. Be sure and wash your hands before you serve the guests, please!"

"But I didn't touch my hands to my face."

"Susie. I'm sorry if you feel I'm picking on you, but that towel of yours is a haven for bacteria. And you must wash your hands."

Well, Susie didn't like what was said. Made a u-turn away from me and made a beeline to the team member's bathroom. She soon emerged and relunctantly helped with the guests.

At 9 p.m., Susie left the building, allah Elvis, without getting checked-out. She intentionally, er, forgot to wipe her shelves. And she left two loads of dirty laundry [ apologies to Don Henley-sorry, couldn't resist ] scattered about.

She's off for two days, so when I engage her on Friday for today's indiscretions, it will probably go like this:

"Susie, I hate to even bring this up, but you forgot to check-out with me Tuesday. And in your haste to get home, you forgot to do a few of your duties."

"GET OFF MY BACK! Quit pickin' on me. Boo hoo hoo."

It's just been one of those days. Susie, the light fixture that tripped the breakers, Peter Potwasher's personal dilemma, which caused him to leave early, etc. And when the fry cook let the drain run over.....

Farewell and adieu, v.c.

P.S. Maybe tomorrow will be better.