The other day my brother and I were discussing the incredible disparity between the break rooms at our respective workplaces. Zack works at HEB, the nice grocery store in town. I work at WalMart. Zack was telling me about the HEB break room, which includes a nice sofa with an HDTV with cable. He described its niceness and continued to fuel my jealousy. You see, the WalMart breakroom is not nearly as nice. Don't get me wrong, you are missing out if you have yet to spend time in a Wally World break room, whether the things you are missing are fair or foul may lie solely in the eye of the beholder.
The room is filled with several rows of long rectangular card tables. My guess is that one day the managers had to take down some kind of clearance feature filled with them and decided that rather than send them to the garbage, they would give their employees tables for their break room instead. Only the Lord knows just how old those tables are, or Ms Hannah (not actual name), who I'm pretty sure is old enough to be his kindergarten teacher.
There are a lot of creatures in the break room (other than humans and other unidentifiable life forms currently employed there). Ants are a particular nuisance. They are everywhere. It doesn't matter where you put food, if you leave it there more than five minutes, you will be sharing with your friendly neighborhood colony of Camponotus consobrinus's.
Adjacent to the break room is the smoking room. It separated by a wall with the top half made of glass. I think it looks like a terrarium, filled with really weird people. I wish the glass was a one-way mirror instead, that way I could observe the peculiar rituals that people who smoke have. I just re read that and realized how creepy it sounds, but still, I think management should look into it. The regular break room has a photo of Sam Walton on the back wall, but the smoking room has a very strange portrait on its rear wall. Its a portrait with a first-person view of a man looking out at his study from behind his giant antique desk. In his hand is a giant cigar, which he is apparently enjoying while staring at his giant globe (maybe that's what rich smokers do, look at globes, thinking about the world and why it is round. I suppose it depends entirely on what exactly the person is smoking). The only part of him you can see is his hand, which is wrinkly and old and actually kind of gross. I'm not sure if he is actually old or if he's thirty and the artist just drew the wrinkles for realism. Either way, I think its a strange painting.
The one redeeming quality about the break room are the people. Its mostly full of old people to be quite honest, but old people can be the most entertaining. My favorite thing about old people is how they talk about illnesses (which come to think is about all they ever talk about, other than their kids/grandkids). I love how they put "the" before every illness, the same way peasants in medieval movies talk about the black plague. "Hey Bernice, did you hear Lavern has the Fibromialgia?". Just adding that "the" to the name makes chronic aches and pains sound more like terminal Lepracy. My favorite use of this sort of phrasing went as follows: Lady 1"Well I took the grandson to the doctor yesterday, says he's come down with the A.D.D."
Lady 2"Oh dear, whats his prognosis?"
Lady 1 "Well they got him on the Ritalin, but I think he already gets those from friends. I don't know."
Lady 2 "You think its gonna help him in school?"
Lady 1 "Nah, but there's always the military. He does like to play with guns."
I love my job
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Safety Recall
As a Site-To-Store Associate at Walmart, I spend a lot of time in the area that used to be Layaway. Its located in the middle of the back wall, where you will also find bathrooms, water fountains, and, of course, the safety recall board. This is perhaps the most hilarious/alarming/are-you-friggin-kidding-me area of the entire store. During a particularly slow period of my shift, I traveled beyond the desk and looked at the items on the board. Items recalled are as follows.
Highchairs: "Severe Lacerations"
Apparently a certain brand of highchair not only lets you feed your baby while including it in family meals, it also can shred it to pieces....particularly horrifying.
Baby Food: "Acute Diarrhea"
Not just Diarrhea. ACUTE DIARRHEA!! I don't really want to play out scenarios in my head of this, but I imagine that could get pretty messy.
Trampoline: "Failure to meet weight capacity requirements"
Will break you bones, and destroy your self esteem when you look at the box and see that you single-handedly broke a trampoline supposedly designed to withstand over 1000lbs of weight bouncing up and down on it. Nobody wants to be "That Guy" at the birthday party.
Water-Activated Flashlight: "Electrocution"
First off, unless I'm spear-fishing for Barracudas in the Amazon at one in the morning, I don't really see a need for a water-activated flashlight. Secondly, I would never trust it not to zap me. So when I heard that this flashlight had a tendency to electrocute its users while submerged in water, I wasn't exactly, well....shocked.
Lawn Mower: "Involuntary Engine Startage/Risk of projectile blades"
I think of it as "Brave Little Toaster" meets "Texas Chainsaw Massacre". This definitely reignites the instinctive distrust of yard equipment I've had ever since I was electrocuted by my weed-eater. Aside from the obvious physical dangers and potentially catastrophic events this type of defect could create, think also of the mental damage this could do. Somewhere there is a child who is always sitting in his room grounded for refusing to mow the lawn based on his conclusions that Lawn Mower is alive. "Dad, I swear it starts by itself and starts flinging the blades at me!!!", followed by a response from the Dad: "C'mon Nancy! Stop slacking and get to work!!". Best case scenario, we have a new Stephen King. Worst case, he either falls victim to the blades of the evil grass cutter, or takes the anguish felt from the mistrust of his father and propels himself towards a life of crime. I feel for the kid. I really do.
Highchairs: "Severe Lacerations"
Apparently a certain brand of highchair not only lets you feed your baby while including it in family meals, it also can shred it to pieces....particularly horrifying.
Baby Food: "Acute Diarrhea"
Not just Diarrhea. ACUTE DIARRHEA!! I don't really want to play out scenarios in my head of this, but I imagine that could get pretty messy.
Trampoline: "Failure to meet weight capacity requirements"
Will break you bones, and destroy your self esteem when you look at the box and see that you single-handedly broke a trampoline supposedly designed to withstand over 1000lbs of weight bouncing up and down on it. Nobody wants to be "That Guy" at the birthday party.
Water-Activated Flashlight: "Electrocution"
First off, unless I'm spear-fishing for Barracudas in the Amazon at one in the morning, I don't really see a need for a water-activated flashlight. Secondly, I would never trust it not to zap me. So when I heard that this flashlight had a tendency to electrocute its users while submerged in water, I wasn't exactly, well....shocked.
Lawn Mower: "Involuntary Engine Startage/Risk of projectile blades"
I think of it as "Brave Little Toaster" meets "Texas Chainsaw Massacre". This definitely reignites the instinctive distrust of yard equipment I've had ever since I was electrocuted by my weed-eater. Aside from the obvious physical dangers and potentially catastrophic events this type of defect could create, think also of the mental damage this could do. Somewhere there is a child who is always sitting in his room grounded for refusing to mow the lawn based on his conclusions that Lawn Mower is alive. "Dad, I swear it starts by itself and starts flinging the blades at me!!!", followed by a response from the Dad: "C'mon Nancy! Stop slacking and get to work!!". Best case scenario, we have a new Stephen King. Worst case, he either falls victim to the blades of the evil grass cutter, or takes the anguish felt from the mistrust of his father and propels himself towards a life of crime. I feel for the kid. I really do.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Could somebody get me a manual??
It has been quite some time since I have posted something new. And even LONGER since I've posted something worth reading lol. Anyways, this holiday break has been quite a roller-coaster. Christmas was wonderful. It was full of service, family and friends. I have to say Christmas of 2010 was the most special Christmas of my life so far because I was actually focusing on Christ. I loved it.
The rest of my holiday has been one to behold. Full of all-nighters with old friends and lots of good quality conversations about everything under the sun. However I was caught off guard by the wave of emotions, feelings, mindsets, goals, tendencies, etc, etc, that I haven't really noticed or dealt with since high school. It got me thinking about the growing up process, and when (or if) it ever even happens.
Disclaimer: You are reading the words of a guy who thinks one of the most philosophically deep movies of all time is Kung-Fu Panda -Yes thats right, and I'm sticking to it (keep an eye out for an entire post dedicated to that arguement)- so the case could very well be that I'm just immature by nature and disposition, and not much in the world will ever change that.
I'm still waiting on the day when my mind completely moves on from high school. I don't mean emotionally letting go of the glory days roaming the halls of your alma mater, I mean like the moment when you just start thinking differently. That moment when your knowledge of the "big picture" finally overcomes teenage "reasoning". Because as teenagers we pretend to know, understand, and make decisions based on "The Big Picture" (from now to be referred to as "TBP"), but in all reality, we end up making decisions naively based on hormones or something of the sort. I sure did. I expected it almost. I knew that most of the things I worried about were fairly trivial, but I still worried about them, because I'm a teenager. What I didn't expect, for some reason, was being 19 years old, two years out of high school, and pretty much feeling the exact same way. HOLD ON JUST A SECOND!!! When do I finally get to move on??
Maybe no one really does? Maybe we just pretend to? Maybe we find something or someone or somewhere that helps us forget? I'm not really sure. I know these are the years of "figuring it out" but I'm already kind of tired of it. I have no problem jumping off the high dive into the deep end, but I need to at least feel the water first. Unfortunately when the water is in reality the future that you will be creating, there is no preview allotted. Some people can't take a leap of faith because they don't trust a certain person or something of the sort. I am afraid of the leap because I don't really trust myself!
The rest of my holiday has been one to behold. Full of all-nighters with old friends and lots of good quality conversations about everything under the sun. However I was caught off guard by the wave of emotions, feelings, mindsets, goals, tendencies, etc, etc, that I haven't really noticed or dealt with since high school. It got me thinking about the growing up process, and when (or if) it ever even happens.
Disclaimer: You are reading the words of a guy who thinks one of the most philosophically deep movies of all time is Kung-Fu Panda -Yes thats right, and I'm sticking to it (keep an eye out for an entire post dedicated to that arguement)- so the case could very well be that I'm just immature by nature and disposition, and not much in the world will ever change that.
I'm still waiting on the day when my mind completely moves on from high school. I don't mean emotionally letting go of the glory days roaming the halls of your alma mater, I mean like the moment when you just start thinking differently. That moment when your knowledge of the "big picture" finally overcomes teenage "reasoning". Because as teenagers we pretend to know, understand, and make decisions based on "The Big Picture" (from now to be referred to as "TBP"), but in all reality, we end up making decisions naively based on hormones or something of the sort. I sure did. I expected it almost. I knew that most of the things I worried about were fairly trivial, but I still worried about them, because I'm a teenager. What I didn't expect, for some reason, was being 19 years old, two years out of high school, and pretty much feeling the exact same way. HOLD ON JUST A SECOND!!! When do I finally get to move on??
Maybe no one really does? Maybe we just pretend to? Maybe we find something or someone or somewhere that helps us forget? I'm not really sure. I know these are the years of "figuring it out" but I'm already kind of tired of it. I have no problem jumping off the high dive into the deep end, but I need to at least feel the water first. Unfortunately when the water is in reality the future that you will be creating, there is no preview allotted. Some people can't take a leap of faith because they don't trust a certain person or something of the sort. I am afraid of the leap because I don't really trust myself!
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