My mother, thinking, because I had told her, that my hotel might be in Brooklyn, came in to my room today to warn me of something, and thus a quote of the day was born!
Mom: You know, there are parts of Brooklyn that are just...black.
Linda: It's not in Brooklyn.
Mom: Where is it?
Linda: Harlem.
The look on her racist little face was precious!
No, I take that back- I don't think my mom is actually a rascist, it's just getting close enoguh to the trip where she's becoming...paranoid with concern. But it's amusing, just the same!
On with it.
Sunday, September 01, 2002
Two visiters, as well as the fact that Mike wasn't a manager, but a rather burnt-out BK cook, made last night not only bearable, but one of the most enjoyable nights of work I've ever experienced.
First to drop by was Mark, who brought me a blueberry muffin and chocolate milk from Tim Horton's. It's little considerations like that that I'm really going to miss about him when he leaves for Farmington tomorrow- the end of the summer is coming on strong.
Mark was there for about an hour and left somewhere around midnight, I would guess. Having got there at nine, I had pretty much nothing from my long list of night shift duties done by the time he left- he and I had taken a look at the list and decided I could easily accomplish all of it in two, maybe two-and-a-half hours. I don't know how much truer this might have been were I not distracted, an hour later, by Zack's arrival. Suffice to say, however, that with Zack there, it definitely wasn't true. Spending maybe the first forty-five minutes that Zack was there with my attention divided equally between him and those petty annoyances known as customers, I started working on the list at 2:15, and at 7:15, when he drove me home, it wasn't completed.
It's enough of an accomplishment to me, though, to know that I was paid for....certain moments of distraction. Or something like this.
I need to get some shit talked about to someone who deserves to know, because I'd really rather not have to keep going along being so damn ambiguous. Not that everyone hasn't figured out the little mystery already. But I think I have an e-mail to write.
On with it.
First to drop by was Mark, who brought me a blueberry muffin and chocolate milk from Tim Horton's. It's little considerations like that that I'm really going to miss about him when he leaves for Farmington tomorrow- the end of the summer is coming on strong.
Mark was there for about an hour and left somewhere around midnight, I would guess. Having got there at nine, I had pretty much nothing from my long list of night shift duties done by the time he left- he and I had taken a look at the list and decided I could easily accomplish all of it in two, maybe two-and-a-half hours. I don't know how much truer this might have been were I not distracted, an hour later, by Zack's arrival. Suffice to say, however, that with Zack there, it definitely wasn't true. Spending maybe the first forty-five minutes that Zack was there with my attention divided equally between him and those petty annoyances known as customers, I started working on the list at 2:15, and at 7:15, when he drove me home, it wasn't completed.
It's enough of an accomplishment to me, though, to know that I was paid for....certain moments of distraction. Or something like this.
I need to get some shit talked about to someone who deserves to know, because I'd really rather not have to keep going along being so damn ambiguous. Not that everyone hasn't figured out the little mystery already. But I think I have an e-mail to write.
On with it.
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