Home Blogs Bathroom Break, Boss? Week of 07 April 2002
Week of 07 April 2002
International diplomacy, II
Via the embassy where I work as non-diplomatic staff, the Foreign Minister of a large Asian country sent an original document of accession to an internation convention to the international organization in charge of said convention. Very highest level stuff. Only the document, with fancy seal and signature, arrived at the embassy in a very wrinkled condition. One of the diplomats asked me how to fix that, and I asked one of the secretaries who told me how to iron it.
So I wandered through the embassy in search of an iron, and found one down in the kitchen. It belonged to the housekeeper. He turned it on for me and I stood in his tiny apartment ironing with this little iron, careful not to scorch this document. This turns out to work fairly well, and I got most of the wrinkles out.
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DO NOT ask the chicken girl out to dinner, ESPECIALLY after you tell her you're taking the chicken to your EIGHTY YEAR OLD PARENTS!
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Now back to the humiliating cattle prod world of the Acting biz . . .
Today I had an audition. For a promo for another cable channel whoop dee do. I had to improvise "learning how to drive stick" and I don't even know how to drive at all! Needless to say - I probably won't be getting the job. But I'm Asian. And I showed up. So that's one for the Kipper. (Um - whatever that means.)
I was surrounded by all of these fellow NYU kids at the audition today, all a year or two younger than me and blabbering away about this and that at the Acting Department. Their classes, productions, plans, etc . . . It was a little annoying and strange. I couldn't help but feel - Ew. But it was also oddly illuminating and nostalgic. To try to remember who I was as a sophomore, not too long ago. The possibilities, the naive dreams, the hapless, desperate energy of it all. I'm very glad to be on my way. I think I can honestly say I'm a working, pounding the pavement actor. I'm grown up.
I think.
I'm going to LA really soon. Maybe in another month. I'll have to say, sadly, goodbye to everyone I love and adore, but it might be nice being with my mother and brother again. Who knows. It's a little too soon to tell. But on to another phase of my life!
Anyway, since that's about it on insight or hilarity on the subject (not much I know but I'll keep you posted), I'll leave you an article that is directly related to the Porn deletion biz. It might be of interest.
Go work related bitching, go!
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Phone conversation with moronic freelance design (ex)client:
Moron: I'm not getting any hits to my site.
Me: It hasn't been updated for a long time, or promoted.
Moron: Could you do something about that? How much would that cost?
Me: You owe me money.
Moron: Yes, I know. What's wrong with my e-mail?
Me: You have a msn address, I have nothing to do with that.
Moron: How much do I owe you?
Me: X amt for the hosting, x amount for design
Moron: Hosting?
Me: Yes, I sent you at least 10 e-mails about it. Your account has been overdue for months. I don't understand why your site is still up.
Moron: My site is down?
Me: No.
Moron: I haven't been getting my e-mail. What's wrong with it?
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Covert gathering of information
Six or seven years ago, I was employed as local (i.e. non-diplomatic) staff at a European embassy of an Asian country which was at that time a military dictatorship with an abysmal human rights record. My main job was answering letters protesting human rights violations including massacres, torture and disappearances in which I either denied that the alleged violations had taken place, or, in undeniable cases, promised that the government was looking into the matter and that evil-doers would be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.
One day my immediate supervisor, a short, heavy-set, amiable and competant man, asked me to attend a press conference by the human rights group Amnesty International spotlighting this country's latest atrocities. He explained that I was to pose as a journalist, and under no circumstances reveal that I was from the embassy.
I pointed out to him that this activity, covertly gathering information, was regarded in many circles as espionage, and that I would not do that. It was, in fact, a kind of epiphany for me. I have always considered myself rather corrupt and it was refreshing to see that there are things I won't do, after all.
His superior, the deputy chief of mission AKA charg d'affaires, a short, heavy-set unsympathetic careerist with a bulldog face one could easily imagine ordering a dissident be tortured to death, reiterated the request. I explained that covertly gathering information for a foreign government could result in my losing my visa in my country of residence as well as my US citizenship, yadda yadda, etc etc. But the actual issue was, I won't spy. It was a liberating feeling. I desperately needed the job, but that was no longer an issue.
In the end, they pretended they had never asked me, and I pretended as well, and we returned to our regularly-scheduled activities.
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Best/Worst
The worst thing about my job is that I have to be at the office at 6:45am -- which means getting up at 5am every morning. I'm not a morning person. And I'm currently running on four months of sleep deprivation.
The best thing about my job is that I get to leave the office around 2pm. Which today means four or five hours of chilling out on the porch at home in the beautiful 69-degree weather.
Gee my job sucks/rawks.
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Dear Dickhead of a Customer,
Yes, I realise that you came into the restaurant on Sunday. I took your order, and you just glared at me the whole time, because you had to pay an extra dollar for corn substitution, just like it says on the big blue menu above my head that you were studying for at least five minutes.
Now, it's common practise in most every restaurant I've been in and/or worked that you do not get a senior discount unless you ask. And you most certainly do not get one after I've taken your money, and the drawer is closed. I shall recount our conversation for you.
"Did I get a senior discount?"
"No, sir. I'm not allowed to do that unless you ask for one."
"Well, why didn't I get one?"
"Sir, I am not allowed to give senior discounts unless you state to me that you want one."
"Well, you know how old I am, so why didn't you ask if I wanted one?"
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I don't know how old you are."
And then you left in a huff. In your designer clothes. To your Lexus. After you paid me with your Visa Platinum.
Surely, if you can afford those things, then I'm sure that not getting a 10% discount one time is going to break the bank. Some people make a lot less than you do, and put up with a lot more bullshit. Just because I was wearing a uniform and standing behind a counter does not mean that you can treat me less than a human being. I was in no way or shape rude to you. And, threatening to call corporate for something that was your fault isn't going to get you anything but an apology, and a "we'll look into it."
Sincerely,
The girl who just might be packing heat behind that counter.
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When I was working Sunday with Robert a VHS tape came back that was pretty screwed up. Robert is in charge of fixing that sort of thing, so I asked what he does when something is beyond repair. He said it gets sent to Blockbuster distro in Texas or something, then he added "where they shoot em." I got this image of some back woods Texans in Blockbuster shirts getting drunk, lining the tapes up on a fence and shooting at em. I cracked up over it for a good while.
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Yesterday I had the displeasure of overhearing a conversation between a handful of rednecks. They were complaining about the lack of security at the US/Mexico border. Yeah, that's rough. People are sneaking over here to steal our toilet cleaning jobs. Here's some of what my ears picked up before I fled in terror:
"I've seen the Rio Grande. You can swim right across it. There's no security there!"
"They're taking all our jobs. They make the money, go home for the winter, and then come back up here. They get rich like that."
"I hear Pat Buchannan wanted to build a wall along the border. That ain't such a bad idear, har har har."
Arrgh. Hold me! Ignorance (and mullets) like this frightens me. If anything, these rednecks should be sneaking IN to Mexico, to get all the "good jobs" that are being sent there from the US.
Then again, I don't think the good people of Mexico deserve that.
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Read this. She used to work where I work now. It's interesting. --------
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But back to the porn deleting . . .
Most of the posts I read do not have to be deleted. And so I just look at them. Here's a typical day:
GangstaGirl86 - Ok When you lick a girls nose (then say they taste good) what are you tryin to get across to her? Are you just flirting or just bein a guy?
mac0 - What does 'too nice' mean? I know it can't be good because I hear it during break-ups. Does it mean I have to treat a woman like shit on occasion to get her to like me? Do I have to smack her around now and then to keep her attention? Sorry, I can't do that, I was brought up better than that. I really don't understand :(.
SexOnAcid - hmm, i've done a lot of drugs, so i know a lot about drugs....
FiestyandFirey - If you're in love, it's wonderful. (unless they treat you like shit and you still can't stop loving them) Being out of love makes you bitter, lonely and jealous of those in love. (unless you're a hermit and have no heart)
aperos - i have a new neighbor (woman) who has boyfriend already she'd moved here for 1-2 year and we get along well very much one day she ask me to be her girlfriend how can i do i'm a girl not lesbien and also she's 25 i'm only 19 and don't want to have first kiss with a woman
star_01 - My problem is that I haven't been able to climax when he fingers me or when he does oral. We think it is probably cuz I have been riding horses since I was 7 and it probably desensiteized me a bit, which sucks. Any advice?
Multiply it by a thousand.
