I used to tease the ex- one would think after the third time of not washing up before using the bathroom and the extenuating burn caused by said not washing up would have learnt him. But, sadly, no.
Handsome, yes. Sharpest crayon in the box? Nope.
For me, jalapeños border on sweet instead of spicy, so I tend to forget what power they can have.
The gasoline incident that I incorrectly placed in the August minirants thread is resolving nicely; the combination of a metric shit-ton of baking soda, combined with two days of airing out during an extensive automotive stereo replacement (the '09 Jeep this time!), seems to have helped. I still need to dispose of the leaky weedeater (and whatever is left in its fuel tank) though.
I received two phone calls from work today, and cheerfully ignored both. It doesn’t matter if I’m at home – it’s still my vacation, dammit.
Disgusting old man counting his money today turned to me and said, “You know, you never realize how much you lick your fingers while counting money, until you wear a mask!”
Uh, nope? How about never?
Dopers, this happens to me almost every workday. Wanna suggest a polite way to answer these guys?
Can’t you just make a sign?
15 Items or Fewer
Please have payment ready, cards preferred
… … (If using cash, do NOT lick fingers!) … …
I suppose getting a mask made for you that says in bold fluorescent print “DON’T LICK YOUR FINGERS” is out of the question?
“LICKED FINGERS SUCK” most likely won’t pass the ‘polite’ review.
A local quilter or home seamstress might be able to machine embroider that for you. Then directly full face them as you greet their approach to your cashier stand.
Boo
Hell, I’d get a shirt printed up with that!!
There is a MOSQUITO inside my home, goddammit. Now I can’t go to bed until I squash the motherfucker.
Why be polite? You already got sick and lost work and stuff because of someone who did that, why try to change things.
Don’t take the money with your hands. Tell him/her to put the money on the counter and then douse it with your big ol’ bottle of hand sanitizer. Douse your hands, then pick it up, wipe it down and then put it in your cash register. If you have to give change, put it on the counter so you don’t have to risk touching his hands.
After all that is done, use more hand sanitizer.
If someone complains, remind your sup that if you get sick, you will be out for a couple of weeks AGAIN!
Edited to say that I have NO patience with people who dis front line workers like that.
I agree, be dramatic. I sure as hell wouldn’t ever lick a bill again after seeing how much I inconvenienced you… and held up the line.
But if I’d seen a sign first, then I might not do it in the first place. You or the store needs to put a reminder up as to how unsafe it is.
{sigh} Problem is, these are curbside pickup orders. Nobody is allowed into the store except employees, so orders are brought out to people’s cars in the parking lot.
There is no counter. There’s nowhere to post a “Stop being disgusting!” sign. I can’t carry sanitizer - my hands are (literally) full carrying bags of orders out and/or money back in … or back out, as change.
All I can do is depend on the kindness of strangers to not lick the objects they’re about to hand over to me.
I can’t believe I even have to SAY that, let alone that this has become Purple’s Daily Rant. Fer chrissakes, these are grown-ass adults, not toddlers sticking every piece of trash they see into their mouth.
It’s 3:30 a.m. Why am I awake, you ask?
Well, remember that mosquito…? Apparently, I became a buffet over the last couple hours. Woke up ITCHY ALL OVER with a bite on the friggin’ side of my index finger, and in the middle of my back on my shoulder blade where I can baarrrrely reach, among a zillion other spots.
As I was coming to, I heard the little fucker and immediately went for it … so as I was regaining consciousness I was also slapping myself, hard, in the face.
OMG I just killed the little fucker. Quite the blood smear, too. I emerge, itchy but victorious!
Vindication!
More barbecuing today, and … good news, no mouse in sight.
Even better, a neighborhood cat was strolling along the top of the fence this afternoon. Now, I’m totally a dog person and indifferent to cats, but I was quite pleased to see this feline patrolling the area. I’m sure that if my friend the almost-barbecued mouse was anywhere in sight, the cat would make a mighty leap and have herself a nice dinner.
Aren’t you the sweet, naive one? Kitty was only checking out the garbage. Cats have no purpose. They have never had a purpose. They moved in with humans because we make tasty garbage. All that nonsense about humans domesticating cats for their rodent controlling skills is just nonsense. By the time cats showed up, humans already had mighty terriers that controlled rodents with joy and abandon.
Humans are suckers for the little assholes. They are entertaining and sometimes cuddly, but never be fooled into thinking that cats are actually willing to work for a living.
I recently bought a new blanket for my side of the bed and all three of our little assholes love it. Three cats on my side of the bed don’t leave much room for ME and its MY bed! Assholes!
The new blanket/cat problem is actually my mini-rant, wolfpup’s post was an awesome starting point.
I bought a twin sized 15 lb blanket and really like it. The problem is that the quilted squares are slightly too large and the glass beads shift slightly when its moved. The cats find the shifting beads under their feet endlessly fascinating. They sit on it and move their feet around to feel the beads move, they aren’t making happy feet. Its totally different and really distracting when I’m trying to go to sleep under MY blanket on MY side of MY bed. Today I ordered another blanket to leave on the loveseat in the hopes they might do their blanket feelies out there.
Another eternal optimist I see.
That’s so adorable!
Leave me to my fantasies. I like to think that there is a COP in the neighborhood (Cat On Patrol) that strolls fence tops in order to have a better view of any wrongdoing, such as a mouse trying to climb into my barbecue.
A few years ago, a new neighbor moved in next door. There are some neighborhood cats I feed. One day I saw this guy outside and he said “your cat keeps getting on my barbecue”. I replied that it wasn’t my cat. Not sure why he even mentioned it. Did he think I would have a talk with the cat about it? Now I see I should have told him it was hunting mice.
Glad you got the little bastard! We get them year round, and a great hint is to squirt them with…wait for it…Windex!
No fooling, it kills them right in the air, and if you spray the wall or ceiling it’s easily wiped off.
I used to stand around all night with a flashlight and fly swatter, and the f*ckers were always too fast for me.
Haven’t found another spray that works as well (and I believe reasonably safe to use).
I went into a liquor store in Louisville to browse the bourbon. Turns out this place had EVERYTHING that is hard to find! And then I found out why. His prices were marked up 300-500%! A bottle of Weller costs about $30 in Ohio, this place wanted $130. Weller Antique was $300! I thought it was a case price. It sure makes me happy that I live in a liquor control state so I don’t have to put up with this crap.
It’s obvious why cats tolerate humans: we built WONDERFUL caves for them. Waterproof, heated, full of nooks to hide in or under, tons of soft surfaces to lie on. Heck, we are even good to be around. We’re relatively squishy to sit on (at least compared to rocks or trees or bare ground) and we’re self-heating, plus fingers to scratch those itchy places under their chins and behind the ears.
Really, they are right to be proud of evolving us.
It’s not bad enough that Oregon is burning, towns have been destroyed, people have died, and that there aren’t enough fire fighters to handle it. Assholes on the right are spreading rumors that Antifa people are setting the fires. This means that police entities are having to take time from critical duties (evacuations, etc) to deal with morons. JFC on a crutch.