Tuesday, June 12, 2012

First World Problems

Recently overheard at Starbucks: "Do you have any butter that hasn't been previously frozen?"

Why is it always Starbucks?

Monday, June 4, 2012

Work It Out.

The blog has been sadly neglected of late....I'm pretty sure my mother and Big Liver Girl are the only ones who have lamented that fact, and they can get me on the phone any time they want.
But I think I've had enough of a hiatus, and it's time I got back into it.

Thing 2 is 15 now, and she has been dying to get a job since she was about 8 years old. You see, she found out that people will pay you to do things, and since she would like to aquire a lifestyle that will demand enormous wads of cash, then gainful employement is the obvious place to start. (I'm just glad she didn't know about the lucrative possibilities of becoming a golddigger.)

Thing 1 has been working as a busser at a local restaurant for the past few years, and they asked her if her sister would like a job. Did you read that correctly? They handed her a job, just like that. And Thing 2 was all "well, I don't know if I want to work there". After I gently reminded her that she has no skills, no experience and that being offered a job was the rarest thing in the entire realm of human experience.
She took the job.

After her first shift, she came home pretty pumped; she's a fairly social kid, and new people and new experiences is right up her alley.

And, she was thrilled to come home with twenty-five dollars in her pocket! (She had no idea that the waitresses tipped out the bus staff, and so the bonus of coming home with cash in hand was totally unexpected.)
I said that the one really great thing about restaurant work was the tips...its dirty work and hard work, but the fact that you leave with cold hard cash in your hands was a decided bonus. I also said that when I worked in restaurants, I tried to live off my tips and bank my paycheques entirely.
She said, "what do you mean?" and I said "If I could swing it, I'd put my paycheques into the bank and try not to touch them at all, and just live off my tips, if possible. That way I'd have money in the bank and money in my pocket."

She gave me a hard, squinty-eyed look and said in a deadly, quiet tone...."There's a paycheque?"

She had no idea, she thought the twenty-five bucks was her pay. And, get this, she was happy with that. Imagine her delight when she found out she would get MORE than five dollars an hour! Capitalism has never looked so appealling!