Please Hire Me!
Summer employment for me is like "What I Want to Be When I Grow Up" every year. Last summer I wanted to be a waitress. More on that in a future article tentatively called "Back of the House". I won't reveal whose house it was, but their Smiley cookies, which originally were round and smiley, are now shape shifters. They can assume the form of fishy Smiley, shamrock Smiley, or flower power hippie Smiley. I personally predict there soon will be a celebrity Smiley, perhaps Ivanka Trumpy!
This summer, I'm going to be working as a receptionist for my PCP. The best part about this job is my doctor will pay me to come to the office! The worst part about this job is my doctor has SEEN me! This naked truth prohibits lying about my weight. Old lying habits are hard to break. I've even lied to my anesthesiologist about pounds per Kanela. I figured he would factor fibs into my weight equation. I also heard that operating rooms actually make you 10 pounds heavier! ("Fibs" is a funny word. "Fibs" is a not so funny word if it kills you!)
"Vital signs" takes on a whole new meaning. In addition to blood pressure, temperature, and heart rate, I can now add blushing to my numbers. (On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the reddest.)
Cultural diversity in the workplace will flourish in summer 2007. Dr. Employer is ethnic Indian and I am ethnic Carpatho-Rusyn. ( Formerly a small nomadic group of people who lived in the foothills of the Carpathian mountains.) Curry meets cabbage roll! No sick jokes about pigs-in-a-blanket or rolls of anything!
I envision lots of advantages to this situation, but there are two worrisome areas. I have always thought that ethnic Indian Americans had soothing, melodic voices. As opposed to ethnic American Indians (or ethnic American Native Americans) that speak in harsh guttural tones. No offense but when, back in the day, Apaches attacked Carpatho-Rusyns, I believe they war cried, "I will shoot an arrow into you - you blanketed peirogi pig!) Not very soothing!
My point is that soothing, melodic voices have a tendency to lull me to sleep. This is worrisome because I fear that napping on the job will be frowned upon.
My second fear is that I don't always understand what Dr. Employer is saying in his soothing accent. Since I don't want to appear to be a Carpatho-Rusyn idiot, I hesitate to ask him "What?" for the tenth time. As an example, I recently asked him if walking vigorously on a treadmill while fighting a sinus infection and cough, would be harmful. He either said, "Of course it will be harmful you Carpatho-Rusyn idiot" or "Go for it!"
Since I talk more about walking on my treadmill than actually walking on my treadmill, I have suffered no ill effects from not walking on my treadmill.
Summer employment starts in exactly T minus 2 months and counting. I will let you know how it all works out. In the meantime, I'm taking a crash course in the Hindi language and another course on Hypersomnolence which translated by us Westerners means excessive sleepiness caused by soothing, melodic Eastern languages.
Please take note that I'm already planning on summer work for 2008. I decided that next year I want to be an Indian chief or ethnic American Native American chief.
E-mail your comments and prescriptions to this writer, waitress, receptionist, and ethnic American Native American future chief. If you don't comment this time, it will make me sorrowfully sick, and I will be a "10" on the blush-o-meter!
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The place with the Smiley cookies has become our new favorite place to eat. The waitresses are usually professional and efficient. Typically, it's quick when two yard work weary people are tired and starved. At least it was until our last visit. Young girl takes our order, says "it" will be out shortly and proceeds to sit down for a nice chat with her friends directly across the aisle from us. Husband and I exchange disbelieving looks. Ten minutes and much teen talk later, she apparently decides to get back to work (maybe she, like, needs to put in the order??) Husband, cranky from hunger, says to me that they obviously can't make "it" if they don't know what "it" is. Perhaps the waitress is testing the cook's psychic skills.
ReplyDeleteOur food finally arrives. Young waitress apologizes for it taking so long. Math was never my strong subject either, but simple arithmetic prooves that an order placed ten minutes sooner would most likely be out ten minutes earlier. Oh well, we actually like the food. That is at least until you write your next article about what the back of the house is REALLY like.