Let me begin by saying that I really do love my job. I love working with my family, and for the most part I really like our customers. That being said, let me vent my spleen a little...
On Thanksgiving, I spent the early part of the day baking pies and just hanging out at home relaxing. About an hour before I needed to leave for my parents' house I showered, and didn't immediately dry my hair, so it started drying curly. I decided to play with it a little and see where it would go. The end result was surprising to me, it was quite curly, but I thought it was kind of fun.
On Friday I got up and decided to revive the curls and wear my hair curly to work. I'd been at work for a few hours, and had been having a pretty good day. I was greeted by my 9 year old nephew (who was wearing sunglasses, which is an important part of this story) with, "Bad hair day?" I was upset and said that I thought it looked ok. My sister said "It's just a joke, take it down a notch." But I had been unable to see his eyes, or gauge an expression, and so I didn't know he was joking. It made me feel a little self-conscious, but I got over it and we all joked about my bad hair day. In fact it was a running joke all weekend. When I was on my way to Seattle on Saturday and we passed the "Winery/Deli" down around Arlington, I texted my sister (I wasn't driving) and asked why she never takes me anywhere nice like that, and she replied, "Maybe if you'd comb your hair once in awhile."
Now we fast forward to today. I forgot to set my alarm last night, so I started off running late today. Since it actually takes longer right now to dry my hair straight than curly (given the humidity) I decided on curly again. I got to work and started trying to get caught up on some paperwork I needed to do before our weekly True Value order arrived. I was sipping some coffee and doing my receiving paperwork when a customer came to the counter and I started ringing him up. He asked me, "Have you had your coffee yet?" I replied that, yes I was working on my second cup. He said, "Good. Then you won't be cranky." (Spoiler Alert - If you want to make a girl cranky, just ask her if she's cranky, or make a comment like, "Wow, you must be cranky today.") I looked up at him and laughed and said, "It's just coffee. It's not a magic elixir."
At this point I have to explain that my natural expression is not a smile. So if I am not smiling at someone or something, apparently I look cranky all the time. And nothing brightens my day like being told how tired I look, or how cranky I look. And it is usually the slightly older, and most often drunk, men who tell me these things. This frightens me a little because I thought beer goggles are supposed to make women look better. How bad must I look to a perfectly sober person???
I went about my morning and shrugged off the cranky remark. About an hour later, I was ringing up another customer, and I brushed my bangs out of my eyes, miraculously without jabbing a thumb into my eyeball this time, and the guy says, "Are you having a bad hair day?" I replied, as civilly as I could manage, "No, but apparently I shouldn't wear my hair curly anymore, because everytime I do people tell me how bad it looks." He says, "I don't think it looks bad." Yeah, sure... good save. You want some ketchup to dip that foot in, Buddy?
So there you have it, if you want to make me cranky in just a few easy steps, come in and make a comment about how tired I look, or how I must be having a bad hair day, or (my personal favorite) "Wow! You're cranky today aren't you?" That one MUST be used as a greeting however, it can't be used in mid-conversation.
I think all I need now to complete the set is for someone to say, "Put on a few pounds, huh?"
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
A Real Class Act...
Last night we went and saw the Trans Siberian Orchestra for the 4th time. It was, as usual, an amazing show. The only real difference between last night's show and the three previous times I'd seen them was one of the singers that we usually see was not with the group, he must have been touring with the East Coast group this year.
The first time we saw them, I was familiar with their Christmas cd, but I had no idea that it was an actual continuous story. The narrator began telling his story, and I was transfixed. When they got to songs "Ornament" and "Old City Bar" I actually understood the songs for the first time. I began to cry, and didn't really know why. But since that night, the song "Old City Bar" makes me cry.
When we saw them two years ago, it was just a day or two after my mother and I had stood on a sidewalk clutching our flags while the motorcade carrying the body of a fallen local soldier went by. In the middle of the concert, the band stops and does introductions, and then they ask for a standing ovation for our service men and women overseas, and they do this every show and will continue to do it until they all come home. At that moment, I was completely overwhelmed.
Last night the show began, and the moment the narrator spoke his first words, tears came to my eyes. I couldn't believe that the emotion of the story was hitting me so hard, so fast. As the show went on I was so amazed by how talented these musicians are. And I was having a a hard time figuring out what I should be watching, the musicians or all the amazing stage effects. There were lasers, and lights, and flames, and snow, and vidoes. There was an amazing set up of light bars that move in time to the music while different videos and pictures are displayed on them. Then there was the moment when the light bar lowered to the stage and it was a catwalk that several performers walked on to and it was raised back up and they played instruments and danced above the crowd.
Just when I thought I could not be any more impressed with this band, something new happened. During one of my favorite songs, I saw a woman run across the floor along the front of the stage, and then I realized a crowd was kneeling down on the floor near the front of the floor seats. Clearly there was some sort of emergency, which I figured to be medical in nature. I was distracted from the show because I was concerned with what was going on down on the floor. But then I saw the band leader, Al Petrelli, watching the entire situation too. He was wordlessly communicating to the band and the singers to keep going. He kept playing his guitar while watching security, and all the other various personnel who gathered on the floor. He went to the edge of the stage and conferred with the head security guy, and motioned to the band to keep going. He went back to playing for a moment, and then he put his guitar down, slipped off the stage, and walked into the crowd to talk to the police officer on scene. He gathered all the information he needed, and then made his way back onto the stage, without taking attention away from the performers.
They finished the first part of the show, and then when they would usually take a brief break, and then come back and introduce all the performers, and the salute to the military, instead Al took the microphone and asked the crowd to just stay where they were since we had a bit of a situation going. Once the paramedic had the man who was ill in a wheelchair, Al asked the crowd to give a round of applause to the man, and the police and aid workers who were helping him. The crowd cheered as the poor man was wheeled out, and then Al asked for the salute to the military.
He made the comment that they'd never had a night quite like this one, which honestly surprised me. I figured with all the effects used in their show, that surely they would have had some sort of medical reaction in the crowd before this. But he handled the entire situation with grace, and ease.
The momentum of the show was definitely thrown off, but after a few moments, they recovered and went on to finish out a most amazing show! I am already hoping to be able to go see them again next year.
The first time we saw them, I was familiar with their Christmas cd, but I had no idea that it was an actual continuous story. The narrator began telling his story, and I was transfixed. When they got to songs "Ornament" and "Old City Bar" I actually understood the songs for the first time. I began to cry, and didn't really know why. But since that night, the song "Old City Bar" makes me cry.
When we saw them two years ago, it was just a day or two after my mother and I had stood on a sidewalk clutching our flags while the motorcade carrying the body of a fallen local soldier went by. In the middle of the concert, the band stops and does introductions, and then they ask for a standing ovation for our service men and women overseas, and they do this every show and will continue to do it until they all come home. At that moment, I was completely overwhelmed.
Last night the show began, and the moment the narrator spoke his first words, tears came to my eyes. I couldn't believe that the emotion of the story was hitting me so hard, so fast. As the show went on I was so amazed by how talented these musicians are. And I was having a a hard time figuring out what I should be watching, the musicians or all the amazing stage effects. There were lasers, and lights, and flames, and snow, and vidoes. There was an amazing set up of light bars that move in time to the music while different videos and pictures are displayed on them. Then there was the moment when the light bar lowered to the stage and it was a catwalk that several performers walked on to and it was raised back up and they played instruments and danced above the crowd.
Just when I thought I could not be any more impressed with this band, something new happened. During one of my favorite songs, I saw a woman run across the floor along the front of the stage, and then I realized a crowd was kneeling down on the floor near the front of the floor seats. Clearly there was some sort of emergency, which I figured to be medical in nature. I was distracted from the show because I was concerned with what was going on down on the floor. But then I saw the band leader, Al Petrelli, watching the entire situation too. He was wordlessly communicating to the band and the singers to keep going. He kept playing his guitar while watching security, and all the other various personnel who gathered on the floor. He went to the edge of the stage and conferred with the head security guy, and motioned to the band to keep going. He went back to playing for a moment, and then he put his guitar down, slipped off the stage, and walked into the crowd to talk to the police officer on scene. He gathered all the information he needed, and then made his way back onto the stage, without taking attention away from the performers.
They finished the first part of the show, and then when they would usually take a brief break, and then come back and introduce all the performers, and the salute to the military, instead Al took the microphone and asked the crowd to just stay where they were since we had a bit of a situation going. Once the paramedic had the man who was ill in a wheelchair, Al asked the crowd to give a round of applause to the man, and the police and aid workers who were helping him. The crowd cheered as the poor man was wheeled out, and then Al asked for the salute to the military.
He made the comment that they'd never had a night quite like this one, which honestly surprised me. I figured with all the effects used in their show, that surely they would have had some sort of medical reaction in the crowd before this. But he handled the entire situation with grace, and ease.
The momentum of the show was definitely thrown off, but after a few moments, they recovered and went on to finish out a most amazing show! I am already hoping to be able to go see them again next year.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
My name is Stephanie and I'll be your Designated Jerk today...
Today is shaping up to be one of those days where I wish I could just retreat to a cave and not come out until the rest of the people here feel nicer.
I cleaned up the title of this blog because the actual term I would use is "Designated A-hole." That is from the movie "The Cutting Edge." There is a scene where the guy asks, "When did I become the designated a**hole around here?" And today that is how I am feeling.
I just took a phone call from a man looking for a very specific oven/microwave wall unit made by Frigidaire. He looked on their website and found that we are a Frigidaire dealer. This was news to me. I started looking through our catalog and trying to find anything that says Frigidaire on it anywhere. The man on the phone then starts giving me a model number, using a most bizarre mix of military style phonetic alphabet. I told him that I was unable to find that model number in our catalog. He started getting angry at me, and first clarified that he had called the right business. I told him that yes we were Pacific Building Center, but I had no idea why we were listed as a dealer.
He was getting crankier and crankier, and so I kept searching trying to find anything that might help. I struck out and was trying to apologize to him and he said, "Are you a Frigidaire dealer or not?" I said, "I don't think we are, and I don't know why we would be listed on their website." He snapped, "Well that doesn't really matter if you aren't a dealer!" And then he hung up on me.
As I was mentally shaking my head and trying to figure out where I went wrong on that call, a man walks in and (standing 10 feet away from me) yells, "HELLO??? IS ANYONE HERE?" So now in addition to being the designated jerk, I am apparently also invisible. I asked him what I could help him with and then took him to the aisle where he could find what he was looking for, and pointed to the two specific packages that would be what he wanted. I went back to the front counter, and waited on a customer. I rang up his plumbing fittings and asked if he would like a bag. He promptly responded, "No thanks, I married one."
Now that's just a joke that gets funnier and funnier each time I hear it. Seriously??? Why do men think that joke is funny? And why do they think that the woman ringing them out will think it is funny?
I'm starting to wish that we still had the little potato guns that we had last year at Christmas time. There have been a number of people today who would be very deserving of a potato pellet right to the forehead! Starting with the guy who kept pumping the empty coffee air pot, while staring at me and grinning. I told him that the pot behind it was full, but he just kept grinning at me and trying to get coffee from the empty pot.
Then my father was helping another customer in plumbing and asked if I had ordered in a certain fill valve. I checked and saw that I had not ordered any more.
I looked up at the customer I was helping and said, "Stephanie Munden, disappointing customers since 1996!"
I cleaned up the title of this blog because the actual term I would use is "Designated A-hole." That is from the movie "The Cutting Edge." There is a scene where the guy asks, "When did I become the designated a**hole around here?" And today that is how I am feeling.
I just took a phone call from a man looking for a very specific oven/microwave wall unit made by Frigidaire. He looked on their website and found that we are a Frigidaire dealer. This was news to me. I started looking through our catalog and trying to find anything that says Frigidaire on it anywhere. The man on the phone then starts giving me a model number, using a most bizarre mix of military style phonetic alphabet. I told him that I was unable to find that model number in our catalog. He started getting angry at me, and first clarified that he had called the right business. I told him that yes we were Pacific Building Center, but I had no idea why we were listed as a dealer.
He was getting crankier and crankier, and so I kept searching trying to find anything that might help. I struck out and was trying to apologize to him and he said, "Are you a Frigidaire dealer or not?" I said, "I don't think we are, and I don't know why we would be listed on their website." He snapped, "Well that doesn't really matter if you aren't a dealer!" And then he hung up on me.
As I was mentally shaking my head and trying to figure out where I went wrong on that call, a man walks in and (standing 10 feet away from me) yells, "HELLO??? IS ANYONE HERE?" So now in addition to being the designated jerk, I am apparently also invisible. I asked him what I could help him with and then took him to the aisle where he could find what he was looking for, and pointed to the two specific packages that would be what he wanted. I went back to the front counter, and waited on a customer. I rang up his plumbing fittings and asked if he would like a bag. He promptly responded, "No thanks, I married one."
Now that's just a joke that gets funnier and funnier each time I hear it. Seriously??? Why do men think that joke is funny? And why do they think that the woman ringing them out will think it is funny?
I'm starting to wish that we still had the little potato guns that we had last year at Christmas time. There have been a number of people today who would be very deserving of a potato pellet right to the forehead! Starting with the guy who kept pumping the empty coffee air pot, while staring at me and grinning. I told him that the pot behind it was full, but he just kept grinning at me and trying to get coffee from the empty pot.
Then my father was helping another customer in plumbing and asked if I had ordered in a certain fill valve. I checked and saw that I had not ordered any more.
I looked up at the customer I was helping and said, "Stephanie Munden, disappointing customers since 1996!"
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