So! How was YOUR day?

I emailed this to Persephone, who’s become my very first good friend from here! As it is mundane and pointless, this seems to be a good home for it…

Let’s just say yesterday was a very … um… interesting day. :slight_smile:

I left work at 4:30 to go visit friends a few blocks north of me in DC. I took the Metro to the next stop from where I work, got out and walked the wrong way for a few blocks. Went back the other way and discovered it would have been easier to just walk from work in the first place.

Anyway, had fun… ate a nice prime rib, got caught up on gossip (ex-coworkers). Left their hotel at around 11:30 or so.

Was walking back to the Metro station, and after a while I said, “Hm, this doesn’t look familiar.” Found out I was not on the street I thought I was. Ok, said I… I’ll keep going in this direction until I find the station…
Well, I walked. And walked … and walked. I never found that station, and I walked from maybe 11:30 to about 1:30 AM. I finally found myself near the Metro where I work. So I go to the station - and it’s closed. Because the
last train departs around 11. :frowning:

So I’ve been walking for hours, and not in good neighborhoods, either. It’s about 35 degrees outside. My feet are swollen and my muscles are seriously hurting. I’m a little hungry, which turns into nausea as the hours progress. Oh, and of course I’m exhausted.

Since I can’t get to the Metro station, I decide to go to my office. I figure I can crash there, work a few hours at least, then go home the next day. Uh-uh. Security card’s not working. Building’s locked down.

So now I’m thinking… I could walk all the way back to where my car is - it’s way north of the city, closer to Baltimore than DC. If I were to drive it, it might take me an hour or so. Walking, it would take me more like 3 or
4. And it’s now 1:30 AM.

In desperation I call a friend in MD at 1:30. She has no idea how to get to where I am, and hardly ever comes into DC (I had to endure a “this is why I hate DC” lecture…). She says she’s going to call a friend of hers (who’s
sick, BTW), one who knows the area, and if she can get a hold of her, she’ll call me back and they’ll both come to get me.

So I get the call, and they’re coming. “Oh, but I have to get ready, and I don’t know where you are…” etc etc etc (I’m feeling absolutely wretched, somewhere below Bag Lady, but I do love it when people try to make me feel worse. As if I was just walking along, looked at my watch, and said, “Oh darn! Look at the time! Can’t get the train now! Oh well, I can always call Miss X…” Calling was an absolute last resort… why can’t people get

So she doesn’t know how long it’ll take. I say thanks and hang up. I’m not gonna make them come here any quicker. To myself, I say they’ll be there at 2:45.

I’m really freezing at this point. I read some - Fellowship of the Ring - and sometimes I walked around, trying to keep warm. Trouble was, my feet were in bad shape… I limped a lot. I probably looked homeless!

My friend shows up with her friend at 2:45. I get home around 3:30 AM. I call work and tell them I’m coming in at noon.

So that’s where I was. How was your day? :smiley:

Okay, let me get this straight.

You work in Washington and have never been to the DC Lunch Bunch?

You were stuck in DC and didn’t call a cab?

Anyway, my day was fine. Thanks for asking.

Well here was mine.
I get a call at 4Pm asking if I can come in an hour early at 6pm. I hurry and manage to get there on time. The bar is full of the usual assortment of people. The management has cut back the cooks hrs to just the weekend late-nights so during the week the night manager(in this case me) gets to cook until 10PM. So, I am supposed to be Manager, Bouncer, and now cook. With no extra pay, mind you.

So, I am in the middle of cooking when we do the 7pm shift cahange during which I have to count out and pay the day bartender, and count in the night bartender. About now we start getting in a few of the nighttime regulars, as well as keeping some of the daytime ones. I am still cooking an hr later when the night bartender, Frank C. tells me that one of our dart teams is going to stop by after their game around 10:30- 10:45 and the owner said “sure, we’ll keep the kitchen open for you!”. Meanwhile, I’ve checked and Im out of half of the idems on the menu, low on various sauces and many of our most popular beers and liqours. So Ive had to do the “Im sorry, we’re out of X would you like Y” game half a dozen times.

Well, around 9:30 I finally have a moment to sit and eat my dinner in peace and sure enough, I have to break up an argument before it turns into a fight. Takes me 10 mins. I return to my dinner, now cold and 5 mins later I have to break them up again! Now It gets physical and I have to throw people out. During the scuffle, I sprain my wrist a little and strain a shoulder. OK, not too bad, but now Im sore and pissed off.
Fast forward to 10:50. The dart team finally shows up and SLAMS me with 10 orders in 2 minutes. I am running around like a lunatic in the kitchen. I am in the middle of order number 5 and while pulling a tray of chicken wings from the fridge, I take a step backwards without looking and step on the edge of a pallet of beer cases any Hyper-Extend my left knee! So now I am trying to keep from colapsing to the floor with this tray of wings while not screaming as the kitchen door is wide open. I bite down and continue to work. I am now pale and sweating from the pain and unable to bend my left knee more that 15 degrees. My friends are asking “are you ok?” to which I reply “No, but thanks for asking”. Im on the last order, a sandwich, for which I am slicing a tomato when I, distracted by the pain in my knee, slice my left thumb down to the bone.
OK, now I really want to scream, but I hold it in. I wrap a paper towel around my finger, and call my friend Paula into the kitchen to help me finish the last order. I go to the office, get the first aid kit and ask Paula for her help, which she doesn’t want to give because she doesnt like blood. OK I say, But I can’t get it bandaged with one damn funtional hand!

Next day, I am sleeping, finally, after taking a few thousand mg. of Advil, and washing it down with a six-pack and a Ice-pack on my knee and my thumb bandaged like a cartoon character who has hit thereown with a hammer, when the phone rings…and rings…and rings. Because the answering machine is off. I stagger to the phone and it is one of my bosses, wanting to know why it behind the bar messy, what was I doing last night that I didn’t keep an eye on the bartender and make sure they cleaned up completly.

  1. Naw. My mama told me not to have lunch with strangers. Actually, after many years of online meet-and-greets, I’ve placed such gatherings on a longterm hiatus, due to bad experiences and a lack of fundage. No offense to you fine folk, of course! [I just don’t know you yet.]

  2. Naw. Calling a cab would cost more than the $3 I had in my pocket. Besides, the Metro was always juuuuust around the corner… :slight_smile:

Wow, ryan, I think you have me beat! And what a trouper, you kept on working anyway! (I bet it’s more of a I-need-the-money than a I-love-my-job, right?)

And that Paula sounds like a fun character, too. Wouldn’t help a bleeding man because she doesn’t like blood? Is it too icky? Reminds me of Kate Capshaw in Temple of Doom when she didn’t want to put her hand in the hole to stop the ceiling from crushing Indy and Shorty with those spikes…

Ryan… two words: Workers Comp. I assume you’ve reported it??
Anyway, my story. I get into work yesterday and my boos says: Nick! Am I glad to see you… I need someone to find me the phone number of the Hungarian Prime Minister…

Believe it or not, but that’s not the strangest thing I’ve been ased to do.

And you’d think that the Hungarian Embassies in Australia would have a receptionist who speaks goddamn english!!!

That’s “Boss” and “asked” for those who can’t tell when someone has had a couple of beers.