Crap Day
Let it be known to all that from this day forward, today will be known as “Crap Day”. Feel free to crap on your favorite enemy on this day. If you don’t have crap, visit our online crap store where you can pick up tons of crappy merchandise. This is not a day to rejoice or celebrate, that right is reserved for “Crap Happy Day” to which the day has not yet been decided upon.
My Crap Day started out really well. My cat puked on the carpet during the night and now the carpet is stained. I stubbed my toe on the coffee table, burned breakfast, and left my fresh cup of coffee on the kitchen counter when I left the house. Ok but the ride into work should be much better, right? Silly fools it’s Crap Day, of course it isn’t better.
Oh look a teenage male pulling up to a stop sign while I am traveling down the highway at 60 miles per hour. On any other day he would stop and look both ways before cutting me off, but today is Crap Day so he decides to avoid the stop sign all together and just pull out in front of me causing me to slam on my brakes and almost rear-end him. As he looks in his rear view mirror to see that I am inches away from becoming a permanent fixture on his tailgate, he decides to up the ante on Crap Day and do a full fledged brake check causing my car to swerve back and forth like a snake on the hot desert sand. I understand its Crap Day, but that was just uncalled for damn it.
I tail his ass onto the freeway going over evil plans of what I want to do once I get next to him.
Should I flip him off? No that isn’t enough for this dick spit……ok, flip him off while calling him dick spit……no, no, he can’t hear me anyway………
And then it hit me, no really, a small rock hit me. It was kicked up by his tire and hit my windshield causing it to crack. That was the last straw, I’m sure he deliberately swerved to hit that rock at the precise point in which to make it spew out from beneath his tire and become a windshield projectile of death.
I reached over to the passenger seat for my work folder which housed a large yellow legal pad. Finding a blank page I grabbed my Sharpie from the center console (always have a sharpie handy for crap day) ripping the cap off with my teeth spitting it back onto the floor like a dirty cowboy spitting his chew.
I began scribbling fiercely onto the bright yellow paper, large letters, bold letters, a message any Crap Master would be proud of on Crap Day. I pulled my car into the other lane stepping on the pedal of my little four cylinder car to get along side of him. The RPM’s exceeding their limits, the engine howling in pain as I slammed it into fourth gear to achieve top speed………which was 65mph in my 4-cylinder 2.0 stratus. I look out the passenger window as my car evens’ up to his shooting all the evil eye I can muster up, I slam the yellow legal pad up to the window with my free hand. He looks over, his eyes scanning back and forth as he reads my message, mouthing the words which read “Pull over so I can beat you’re fucking ASS!!”. Moments later he hits the brakes and drops back several car lengths, I look in my mirror to see him frantically dialing his phone. It must have been a speed dial number because I only saw him press three buttons.
No worries, it’s off to work I go, trolley la, trolley la.
The minute I step into the door of work the secretary cuts me off asking for help. I really hate this. Nothing annoys me faster at work than being pestered the second I walk in. I walk over to her computer, solve her little problem and proceed to my desk. No sooner do I sit down when a student sitting on the opposite side of the room asks for help. It’s one of my better students so I assure her that I will be right with her in a minute. As I walk over to her desk I can see by the expression on her face that something is very wrong.
“What’s up?” I ask
“I need some help…..” she pauses for a moment “I’m just really upset…….sorry” she starts to break down.
“What is it?” This woman beginning to look like her best friend just died.
“I came in this morning and my drive wouldn’t boot up, so Sped took it out and put a new one in, now all my stuff is gone. Plus he loaded up the wrong operating system and never partitioned the hard drive so I can’t install Oracle, which I don’t want to do anyway because it will take all day.” Looks like Sped got the jump on me for this Crap Day and has already begun to crap all over me.
I assure the student that I will take care of everything including setting up a new drive and pulling the data from her old one. I give her an assignment to find out how many porn sites can be hit in an hours time before getting flagged by corporate to keep her busy …..because…….corporate wanted the stats…..yeah, that’s it. (Note to self: Hitting more than 20 porn sites in an hour could result in getting fired; from now on we stick with 19.)
As I work feverishly to get her data restored a student from across the way yells out.
“Hey…..this pop machine isn’t spitting out what it says it’s supposed to.”
“I’m sorry” I respond “Sometimes the cans get mixed up and you may get one accidentally that was not supposed to be in there.”
“Nu-uh” he says “This is my 5th one today (would explain the uncontrollable shaking) and each one has been wrong.”
“I’ll check into it” I say and head for the front desk to get the keys to the machine. I sure love my job, not only am I a teacher, I’m also the local pop machine vending bitch. No worries, I usually scam a case or two when it needs to be filled using the excuse of, “it can’t hold them all and I already took the plastic rings off of the cans, now they will all go bad if I don’t take them home and drink them.” You would be surprised at how many people believe that line.
I return to the pop machine and after fighting with the lock built in 1902 for 15 minutes I finally get it open. It doesn’t take long before I can see the problem. Someone (I’m sure you all know who I am thinking of) has randomly filled the machine with whatever in whatever slot they wanted. I head back to the front desk.
“Excuse me, but who was the last person to fill the machine?” I ask
“It was Sped, why?” The secretary responds
“Hmmmm……No reason, thanks”
Holy shit, Sped must have had Crap Day planned for some time because he’s on a fucking roll.
“Sped?”
“Yes!”
“Can you come here for a second, something I want to ask you?” I politely say
“Sure, what’s up?”
I bring him over to the front of the pop machine now displaying the lovely rainbow of colored cans placed randomly in any slot.
“See anything odd about this situation?”
“Mmmmmm……nope, why?”
“See these labels below each of the slots that specifically say what kind of pop to put in each slot?”
“Yeah, those tell me what kinds I need to put back in here.”
“No Jackass, those tell you which cans have to go in which slots so when someone pushes the button for the kind they want they will actually get that kind.”
“Really?” He sound stunned, go figure “I thought there was a computer or something that told it which kind to grab.”
“And just how is this computer supposed to know which can is which and dig through this holy hell pile to get that specific one?”
“I don’t know, figured it scanned each one and then an arm or something went and got it.”
“Are you fucking serious, you actually believe that line of shit and then think that all of this happens within the 1.2 seconds it takes to get your can of pop?”
“Well it’s actually closer to 5 seconds and……”
“Shut the fuck up! Now someone has to take every can out of this bitch and sort them properly by the labels.”
“Wow, good luck with that, I’m off to lunch.”
“Wha….wha……good luck with that what……that’s my damn line you piece of shit……and I am not…..” But before I can finish he has already exited the room. I start grabbing cans from the machine and placing them on the desk behind me while quietly muttering to myself “Stupid crap day…..”
“Crap Day, makes assholes happy!”
My Crap Day started out really well. My cat puked on the carpet during the night and now the carpet is stained. I stubbed my toe on the coffee table, burned breakfast, and left my fresh cup of coffee on the kitchen counter when I left the house. Ok but the ride into work should be much better, right? Silly fools it’s Crap Day, of course it isn’t better.
Oh look a teenage male pulling up to a stop sign while I am traveling down the highway at 60 miles per hour. On any other day he would stop and look both ways before cutting me off, but today is Crap Day so he decides to avoid the stop sign all together and just pull out in front of me causing me to slam on my brakes and almost rear-end him. As he looks in his rear view mirror to see that I am inches away from becoming a permanent fixture on his tailgate, he decides to up the ante on Crap Day and do a full fledged brake check causing my car to swerve back and forth like a snake on the hot desert sand. I understand its Crap Day, but that was just uncalled for damn it.
I tail his ass onto the freeway going over evil plans of what I want to do once I get next to him.
Should I flip him off? No that isn’t enough for this dick spit……ok, flip him off while calling him dick spit……no, no, he can’t hear me anyway………
And then it hit me, no really, a small rock hit me. It was kicked up by his tire and hit my windshield causing it to crack. That was the last straw, I’m sure he deliberately swerved to hit that rock at the precise point in which to make it spew out from beneath his tire and become a windshield projectile of death.
I reached over to the passenger seat for my work folder which housed a large yellow legal pad. Finding a blank page I grabbed my Sharpie from the center console (always have a sharpie handy for crap day) ripping the cap off with my teeth spitting it back onto the floor like a dirty cowboy spitting his chew.
I began scribbling fiercely onto the bright yellow paper, large letters, bold letters, a message any Crap Master would be proud of on Crap Day. I pulled my car into the other lane stepping on the pedal of my little four cylinder car to get along side of him. The RPM’s exceeding their limits, the engine howling in pain as I slammed it into fourth gear to achieve top speed………which was 65mph in my 4-cylinder 2.0 stratus. I look out the passenger window as my car evens’ up to his shooting all the evil eye I can muster up, I slam the yellow legal pad up to the window with my free hand. He looks over, his eyes scanning back and forth as he reads my message, mouthing the words which read “Pull over so I can beat you’re fucking ASS!!”. Moments later he hits the brakes and drops back several car lengths, I look in my mirror to see him frantically dialing his phone. It must have been a speed dial number because I only saw him press three buttons.
No worries, it’s off to work I go, trolley la, trolley la.
The minute I step into the door of work the secretary cuts me off asking for help. I really hate this. Nothing annoys me faster at work than being pestered the second I walk in. I walk over to her computer, solve her little problem and proceed to my desk. No sooner do I sit down when a student sitting on the opposite side of the room asks for help. It’s one of my better students so I assure her that I will be right with her in a minute. As I walk over to her desk I can see by the expression on her face that something is very wrong.
“What’s up?” I ask
“I need some help…..” she pauses for a moment “I’m just really upset…….sorry” she starts to break down.
“What is it?” This woman beginning to look like her best friend just died.
“I came in this morning and my drive wouldn’t boot up, so Sped took it out and put a new one in, now all my stuff is gone. Plus he loaded up the wrong operating system and never partitioned the hard drive so I can’t install Oracle, which I don’t want to do anyway because it will take all day.” Looks like Sped got the jump on me for this Crap Day and has already begun to crap all over me.
I assure the student that I will take care of everything including setting up a new drive and pulling the data from her old one. I give her an assignment to find out how many porn sites can be hit in an hours time before getting flagged by corporate to keep her busy …..because…….corporate wanted the stats…..yeah, that’s it. (Note to self: Hitting more than 20 porn sites in an hour could result in getting fired; from now on we stick with 19.)
As I work feverishly to get her data restored a student from across the way yells out.
“Hey…..this pop machine isn’t spitting out what it says it’s supposed to.”
“I’m sorry” I respond “Sometimes the cans get mixed up and you may get one accidentally that was not supposed to be in there.”
“Nu-uh” he says “This is my 5th one today (would explain the uncontrollable shaking) and each one has been wrong.”
“I’ll check into it” I say and head for the front desk to get the keys to the machine. I sure love my job, not only am I a teacher, I’m also the local pop machine vending bitch. No worries, I usually scam a case or two when it needs to be filled using the excuse of, “it can’t hold them all and I already took the plastic rings off of the cans, now they will all go bad if I don’t take them home and drink them.” You would be surprised at how many people believe that line.
I return to the pop machine and after fighting with the lock built in 1902 for 15 minutes I finally get it open. It doesn’t take long before I can see the problem. Someone (I’m sure you all know who I am thinking of) has randomly filled the machine with whatever in whatever slot they wanted. I head back to the front desk.
“Excuse me, but who was the last person to fill the machine?” I ask
“It was Sped, why?” The secretary responds
“Hmmmm……No reason, thanks”
Holy shit, Sped must have had Crap Day planned for some time because he’s on a fucking roll.
“Sped?”
“Yes!”
“Can you come here for a second, something I want to ask you?” I politely say
“Sure, what’s up?”
I bring him over to the front of the pop machine now displaying the lovely rainbow of colored cans placed randomly in any slot.
“See anything odd about this situation?”
“Mmmmmm……nope, why?”
“See these labels below each of the slots that specifically say what kind of pop to put in each slot?”
“Yeah, those tell me what kinds I need to put back in here.”
“No Jackass, those tell you which cans have to go in which slots so when someone pushes the button for the kind they want they will actually get that kind.”
“Really?” He sound stunned, go figure “I thought there was a computer or something that told it which kind to grab.”
“And just how is this computer supposed to know which can is which and dig through this holy hell pile to get that specific one?”
“I don’t know, figured it scanned each one and then an arm or something went and got it.”
“Are you fucking serious, you actually believe that line of shit and then think that all of this happens within the 1.2 seconds it takes to get your can of pop?”
“Well it’s actually closer to 5 seconds and……”
“Shut the fuck up! Now someone has to take every can out of this bitch and sort them properly by the labels.”
“Wow, good luck with that, I’m off to lunch.”
“Wha….wha……good luck with that what……that’s my damn line you piece of shit……and I am not…..” But before I can finish he has already exited the room. I start grabbing cans from the machine and placing them on the desk behind me while quietly muttering to myself “Stupid crap day…..”
“Crap Day, makes assholes happy!”
posted by Mr. Cheese @ 9:38 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home