I’m at a grocery store in the beer line, and a VERY tall and large woman checks out before me. After she leaves while checking out my order the guy behind the counter says “Not sure if that was a dude or what.”
Hey Skippy:
Who cares?
You are a middle aged fucktard that works the cash register in the beer checkout at a grocery store for minimum wage. What exactly great do you have going on in YOUR life you can make wisecracks about someone else?
Maybe check out who you are talking to before making comments about someone’s gender. How do you know I don’t have a cross-gender son or daughter? How do you know I’m not cross gender (ok I’m. Or but how can you be SURE.)? Know your audience, Dice.
If you want to stand in line behind me and make an ignorant remark, that’s one thing. You are a representative of your company, wearing the company uniform. Making an offensive remark about someone’s appearance and gender reflects poorly on your employer. I’d watch your mouth because the next customer might call your manager to complain and not just post here.
BTW, full disclosure I was thinking the exact same thing (and actually think it very well may have been a male cross dresser). But like I said who cares, and it’s certainly not a thought I would say out loud. One sad thing about the recent gender movement, which I’m fine with BTW, is now I wonder if taller women now will be suspected of really being men or transsexual, when they are not and would prefer to not be considered as such.
Of course I fucked up where I can be made fun of the most. I meant to post I’m not a cross dresser, woman, etc etc but how could a cashier be 100% SURE. So shut up,:smack:
Word. One of my daughter’s HS besties, who since their junior year has been demonstrating some shockingly appalling judgement (case in point: she cashed out her student loans and bought her “boyfriend” [read: guy she had been ditching school to fuck since before she turned seventeen] a trip to Hawaii, where he proceeded to fool around with his other girlfriend – he was in his twenties when he started fucking the HS girl, btw), is, at twenty-two, a single mother and an unapologetically racist, Pepe-the-Frog-wearing, supporter of the America-hating fuckstick, has absolute proof that she is a direct lineal descendant of President Ulysses S Grant.
So, I’m pretty sure that Randolph Duke was more right tban he even suspected on the whole nurture-vs-nature thing.
Long ago I worked at a movie theater while in high school. One of the morning opening jobs was to fish out the boiled cockroaches from the “buttery topping”. It had to be kept hot to keep liquid, and to prevent it from spoiling and going rancid. But they wanted to display its "golden"ness (NOT: buttery-ness), and the lid didn’t quite seal. So cockroaches would squeeze in for a snack, fall in, drown, and be cooked.
Apparently people don’t like crunchy protein added to their popcorn.
Ugh, they’re replacing the water main in my immediate neighborhood, which means big heavy trucks, piles of pipe, ear-shattering equipment, and a maze of detour signs taking you 'round the back forty to get to the main road.
Consquently there’s also a flurry of pest control trucks. So far I haven’t seen any evidence, but they’re around…
Was the popcorn advertised as “most cockroaches removed – at least, the ones that floated to the top”? I’m guessing the de-cockroaching of the popcorn topping was kind of a trade secret.
Well, I won’t be ordering popcorn at the movie anymore. At the concession stand I volunteer in, the popcorn maker has a self buttering ( not real buter, at. all.) device. You fill it up in a little hatch. It’s one gallon at a time. I have often wondered how you should clean it. I have worked there 6 years and it’s never been cleaned. Eeekkk!
Last theatre I worked at had semi-experimental CO2 powered buttery gunk delivery devices. Imagine our joy at discovering that the goo in the hoses would solidify overnight, and thus the first tub of popcorn would get a yellow turd placed on top.
Oh, no. There were strict rules about how we were allowed to talk about the popcorn. “Freshly popped” was okay, but talking about where it was popped was not – it was done in bulk offsite and trucked in every few days; “fresh” = less than a week old. And, of course, we could not refer to “butter”; it had to be “topping”. “Buttery” was likewise verboten, although “golden” was allowed (and was what was advertised). It wasn’t “salt”, it was “seasoning”. You get the idea. Any hints of cockroach addins would’ve led to dismissal.
I don’t live too far from that movie theater nowadays. They’ve upgraded to “buttery” topping, and fancier seasonings, but the topping dispenser design isn’t too far different. And no mention of the addins (although, knowing what to look for in the theaters themselves, I’m sure they’re still around).
My friend’s husband’s brain tumor, which had been shrinking, has started growing again. It’s aggressive and inoperable based on location. He has chose to discontinue all treatment with the exception of his anti-seizure medication. Doctors give him 3-6 months. I’m just devastated for him, for her, for their boys.
