Tag Archives: coworkers

looney tunes!

When I started this blog, it was principally to share the things I find amusing in my barista life!  I haven’t really been a barista very much lately due to travel etc. but I did get to work this week, so I wanted to share with you some of the crazies that were on the creep that day.  (If you couldn’t tell, weird/crazy people=my main source of amusement in life.)

There are a number of regulars whom we all know and talk about/become amused by.  Moreover, the environment of the coffeeshop where I work is very informal and has a bar where we, the employees, usually kick it; this also causes certain customers to post up at the bar with us (usually for hours) and hang out.  Sometimes this is cool, as I totally dig many of our customers.  Some of them, however, bother me in a variety of ways, from being plainly annoying to being a bit frightening.  Also,  I did not change their names for the purpose of this weblog, this is how my coworkers and I refer to each of these people–I don’t feel the need to change their names since their behaviour I am discussing is done in public and in view/earshot of many strangers.  Sue me.  (But, actually, please don’t.)

One of our regulars is ‘Wet Cappuccino Charles‘.  I’m not sure how to describe him really except to say that he quite possibly possesses the greatest degree of social ineptitude I have ever seen, and a lot of my coworkers compare him to “Dwight Shrute” from the US version of the televison programme “The Office”, whom I must say he resembles in both behaviour and appearance.  He is hilarious in the sense that he has no problem broadcasting his crazy opinions (he’s an intenselty right-wing conspiracy theorist type, and is extremely paranoid) and getting him fired up is always entertaining.

Anyway, he usually comes in several times per week and stays for hours because he is not employed–in fact, he is constantly inquiring as to whether we have any ‘temp work’ available.  He is honestly like a caricature!  Unfortunately he also frightens me a bit because he asked for my email address shortly after I made his acquaintance (and before I grasped the depth of his craziness), and I have a folder labeled just for him on my gmail account…in other words, he sends me about 10 emails each day.  Fun! Also, slightly alarming. :)

One of our new regulars is the ‘Klonopin Queen‘.  There are a number of people whom I suspect of being pill-poppers due to their dazed and confused facial expression and inability to converse at a normal rate, but homegirl takes the cake.  Not only is she dazed and confused all the time, but she also likes to hang out for hours, talk about how awesome klonopin has been for her (it has helped her handle her demon child) and also likes to PASS THEM OUT.  Like tic-tacs.  ‘One for you, one for you, one for you’ is what we say when one of us sees her coming.  Because that is what she does…sings along and passes out DRUGS like a deranged mother goose.

Another fun discovery upon my return to the coffee shoppe was that I have a new coworker, ‘Bipolar Bridget’. Bridget immediately revealed to me her psychiatric history and the fact that she’s no longer medicated (this much was obvious)–she then proceeded to do all sorts of cracked out shit, such as singing Disney songs at the top of her lungs (in the middle of a coffee shoppe…who does that?) and writing signs of ‘things she wanted to tell me’.  Example: she made a colorful and detailed sign that said “who are the backstabbers around here?” that was slightly violent in nature.  The crazy customers are bad enough, but now I must spend several hours with someone who is clearly under the influence of drugs OR extra, extra crazy.  Either way, she’s a looney tune.

The people I’ve met (and there are a lot more, those were just the ones that rolled up that DAY) are people I did not know existed.  I’m somewhat interested in humans/people in general, so from reading about them and you know, being alive, I thought I had a decent grasp of human behaviour–HOW WRONG I WAS.

And my mum said being a barista was a waste of time!

Anyway, back to work, have a great day blogheads! :) :) :)

xx Charlee

ps: sincerest apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors, I had to type this rather quickly because I have a deadline in a few hours!!! try not to let it upset you too much kids ;-)

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Then what? My boobs are too big?

True story–I once got dumped for loving the film from which this awesome line was taken (aka Legally Blonde). He just could not get over it.

Clearly, I do not think it is a brilliant film, but I think the message is important–kind of muffled by the fact that the main character fails to exhibit any clear sign of intelligence, but an important message nonetheless.  That is, that you should not judge a book by its cover.

My freshman year of college, I found out halfway through the year that the girls from my hall called me ‘Barbie’ behind my back.  It was very hurtful, especially when I heard some of the really malicious things they’d said.  In fact, it still upsets me…I didn’t do anything to them, and yes I enjoy the color pink, but to be so needlessly bitchy is just so wrong in my book.

My point is–I can relate to the character in that film, because I feel like I constantly have to deal with people’s incorrect premature assessments and after a while, it gets old. Like, REALLY FUCKING OLD.

What I mean is…people are constantly treating me like I’m dumb. This isn’t a projection either, because one half of the time, they’re verbally telling me that ‘it’s okay if I just don’t get it’ or something along those lines–and the other half of the time, they’re in utter shock (sometimes even telling me so) when they get a chance to see that their perceptions of me are wrong.

So I can’t figure out what it is that makes people get this impression of me.  Is it the fact that I’m actually rather dim?  Have people just been being nice to me? I don’t know…intelligence is such an odd thing, and there’s probably nothing more difficult than attempting to assess one’s own level of it.  However, I tend to think this is not the case based upon the only objective information I have, which would be testing I’ve had done by a psychologist…which indicated that I’m somewhat of a smarty.  So, granting that I’m reasonably intelligent (though we’ll never know for sure), what is it that makes people think otherwise?

I think part of it could be that I’m a bit goofy, and giggly, and as a friend so affectionately put it, ‘bubble-headed’–I don’t fancy myself an airhead, but I also don’t jump at every opportunity to showcase my intelligence.  Not saying I have this great degree of intelligence, as perhaps I’m really dense and unaware of it, but in my experience, people are generally rather eager to assert themselves in this manner.  It’s just not my thing.

Still, although not particularly serious, I don’t think my behaviour gives any indication that I’m dumb.

So what is it?

Well, I’m sorry to say it, but I think I’m slowly starting to believe that people judge books by their covers.  Maybe I am naive to have not realised it sooner?

There are many reasons why I think this, but I’ll give you one big example–I have always had the biggest problem with uber-intense math/science nerds (as in, science nerds that are +2 sds from the mean).  I say the word “nerds” in the nicest way possible because I am a total geekette and actually took offense to it when my lover questioned my nerdiness.  But that is not the point.   The point is, I’m making a generalization about my experiences with a particular group of people–a group of people whom I have found, on the whole, to be quite socially awkward, not especially attractive, and really, probably lacking in certain aspects of their lives.  This is not an analysis I made prematurely, or out of spite, as I have been dealing with these people for a long time, and I treat them as I would anyone else…and once I get to know them, most of them are really cool people.  HOWEVER, it is my belief that this particular sort of person so values their intelligence as being exceptional, and is so psychologically invested in it in terms of self-esteem, that coming upon someone who does not share their more negative traits, but does share their most valued trait, is just too much for them to handle.  Therefore, in accordance with the theory of cognitive dissonance, they decide that said person (i.e. me) could not possibly be as intellectually capable as they are.

Sexual frustration is not a pretty thing.

I’m working on a research project right now–because I was ASKED, mind you, not because I wanted to do it, because it is not in my area of expertise.  Nonetheless, I thought it would be fun–and it is.  Difficult, but fun.  However, a few of my colleagues are really not very nice to me and I don’t know how to deal with it–perhaps I am not 100% as qualified as they are (since some of them ARE pseudo-experts in this area) but the bottom line is, we’re all doing the same shit, meaning none of us are complete imbeciles.  Yet whenever I ask a question, their facial expressions and excessively simplistic explanation suggest that they think I’m completely clueless.  Just yesterday, I questioned a colleague’s (negative) analysis of something I’d done, only to have him look it over and tell me that I did indeed do it properly, and he was sorry because he’d ‘just assumed I had no idea what was going on’–you ASSUMED I had no idea what was going on?  Did you even LOOK AT my work?

MORAL OF THE STORY: DO NOT JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER, BLOGGA BUDDIES

Okay, rant over.  I’m just sick of people harshing my chill, you know?

xx Charlee

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f my life

Firstly, if you have missed out on the brilliance of this website, then I suggest you check out fmylife.com!  It is quite hilarious, and totally my sense of humour, as there is nothing I find more amusing that the absurdity of everyday life.

Secondly…my apologies for being a delinquent blogga.  I spent the majority of last week paying for my one day of freedom with extreme productivity and also dealt with a bit of an internal conflict regarding the concept of keeping a weblog.  But I’m chillin’ now…so it is all good.

Thirdly, the past week or so has been overflowing with manly misadventures so  I suppose I shall update you on what has gone down!

I made the rainbow cake (which will be a tale for another day) for Mason and he kind of freaked out…he made such a big deal out of it that I didn’t really know what to say or do.  I am generally immune to awkwardness, but I didn’t really think it was a huge deal, and he acted like I’d given him a kidney.  Marley told me this was because I was ‘clearly declaring my love for him, à la Napoleon Dynamite’ (in the film Napoleon’s sidekick with a poor grasp of the English language, Pedro, suggests that in order to ask a girl to a dance, Napoleon “bake her a cake or something”).  This left me feeling like a big dork, a sentiment that was only made worse the day after Mason’s party when my coworker Theresa commented that Mason ‘looked like he was going to cry’ when I gave him the cake.  Not exactly the reaction I was going for.

This strange situation was further compounded by the fact that I had to work Saturday night–I had volunteered to work on Valentine’s Day because I’m not the biggest fan of said cheesefest and especially of the behaviour it tends to induce in Mr. Martini, although I was no more interested in spending the “holiday” with any of the other men in my life right now.  Not to mention, I knew most of my coworkers were in relationships so I thought it would be nice if they could have the night off to recite poetry and listen to Sinatra.  See, I’m not entirely bitter!

However, Mason switched shifts with someone so that we could work together Saturday night…so that ‘my Valentine’s Day wouldn’t completely suck’.  I thought this was very sweet, and was quite excited that we’d be spending the evening together–even if it were to be spent at work.  After the cake incident, though, I was a bit weirded out about this, especially since he has a girlfriend–I imagine they are on the verge of breaking up, but nonetheless, I’m not trying to spend singles awareness day with someone who is not single…

Then there’s Mr. Martini, who spent the weekend here despite my numerous reminders that I would not be available on Saturday, and true to form, planned a super over-the-top date for Friday night.

Unfortunately, one of my very best friends was dumped by her EVIL boyfriend on Thursday.  Yup, you read that correctly.  Her boyfriend of five years broke up with her right before Valentine’s Day.  I cannot tell you how angry this makes me, but I am comforted by the fact that I know karma will come back to bite him in his sorry ass.

So, considering that my friend was feeling a bit psycho-crazy, I thought it best to not leave her alone Friday night…however, I also felt awful cancelling on Mr. Martini.  So, I told him what was up, and because he is so crazy awesome, he said that she could come along.  I also felt like getting her out and about and wined and dined would be good for her morale.  And my dear, sweet, Mr. Martini was so very cool about it and even got roses and chocolate for my friend.  How nice is that?  I was really happy that he was so nice about her crashing because we hadn’t seen each other in a while and I think he was looking forward to some intense romance…but, he was perfectly kind and understanding, he even listened to my friend moan throughout the entire evening and was totally sincerely sympathetic and comforting.  It made me appreciate him so much more, because I know he isn’t particularly fond of this friend and we haven’t been on the best terms, and the fact that he was so sweet about the whole thing was just incredibly endearing.

Blah blah blah, this entry is boring me…

To sum things up, Mason and I had fun making fun of the yucky couples on Valentine’s Day, and my girlfriend joined in, as she chilled at the coffee shoppe all night so she would not be ‘drowning in an ocean of tears’ as she so nonchalantly put it.  Then, the three of us went out and drank massive amounts of tequila and continued to have a number of laughs at the expense of Cupid et al.

However, tequila has long been an enemy of mine, something I conveniently forget all-too-often, and upon approaching Mr. Martini’s hotel, I felt the uncontrollable impulse to tell the cab driver I needed to get out.  It is true, I showed up at my (ex) lover’s hotel room at 2 am on Valentine’s Day, exceptionally intoxicated.  How tragic am I?

Mr. Martini was awake and seemed pleased to see me, although I do believe he was somewhat taken aback by my drunken state as I tend to be on my best behaviour in his presence.  I don’t recall much but I believe I went to sleep straightaway, presumably after confessing my undying love and devotion to him.  The next morning, I awoke quite late and probably looking somewhat reminiscent of roadkill, to an awesome champagne breakfast (I obviously skipped the bubbly) and Mr. Martini smirking at me and inquiring as to when we were going to ‘talk about last night’.  I believe I told him “never”, and left it at that–truthfully, I kind of wish that Mr. Martini had skipped the very sweet gesture of ordering breakfast because I was probably blushing throughout the meal and really, really just wanted to leave.

But it gets better.  I arrived at work yesterday to discover that Mason and my friend had spent the night together, ‘but nothing happened.’  My friend confirmed this supposed innocence, but  it’s kind of the latest turn-off in a string of unappealing actions for Mason–not least of all because I think it highly inappropriate for someone with a girlfriend to be sharing a bed with anyone…and certainly not my best friend who just had her heart broken.  Although he tells me “she said she just didn’t want to be alone” and he “felt bad”, to me this screams of shadiness.  Perhaps I am imagining it though…maybe they’re both just oddballs. In any case, it makes me think to myself, “fuck my life”.

So tonight I must face Mr. Martini…and I am really embarrassed because I unfortunately have very little recollection of the other night.  Boo!

…f my life. :)

I hope everyone out there in blogga-land had a fantastic Valentine’s Day, devoid of drunken debauchery and intoxicated impromptu sonnets!

xx Charlee

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i am a ‘BAMF’

Hah!  Not really.

I am indeed being a rebel by playing hooky today though.  Of course this is nothing new for me, but lately I’ve been quite responsible, and this morning as I was trying to fall asleep (at 5 am), I cringed at the thought that I had to work (at the coffee shop), go to two classes, get a project done for my other job, and somehow manage to bake a treat for Mason and obviously sex myself up for the festivities tonight.  It was simply too awful for me to bear the fact that my effort was going to be a waste,  because crazy tiredness (from extreme lack of sleep), and the brain burn resulting from contributing to society all day would have prevented from enjoying myself at the party, thereby killing my buzz.  Quite literally.

So I’m being naughty, and I couldn’t be happier about it!  It reminds me of the good old days…my stoned slacker days, as I fondly call them.

I blew off EVERYTHING, and even lied about it–this is something I have never done before, because for all of my neglect of responsibility, I am nothing if not honest.  Through all of college, through all of life, I have made it a point not to make excuses for my actions, especially bogus excuses.  However, it suddenly came to me not all that long ago that part of life in our society is bs-ing.  As I believe I have said before, my main purpose in life is keeping it real, so I had some trouble accepting this.  Even when I was always getting in trouble for not doing shit and my friends were claiming their grandmothers had died, I kept my mouth shut–but therein lies the problem.  It may sound silly that I really didn’t figure this out until recently, but apparently not saying anything gives the impression that you just don’t give a fuck.  People expect you to make excuses.  I’m not even going to get into how stupid this is, but I’m happy to say that I don’t feel bad at all about lying to my bosses or prof today, because I think in the end it’s less rude than not saying anything and I’m probably doing good in terms of their egos by making them think their nonsense is important to me.

(Side note: I can seriously rationalise anything.  It kind of freaks me out.)

Well I shall continue this later as I have to go prepare the rainbow cake (hooray! I am pumped!!) and get sexed up for the soiree this evening!

Hope everyone else is having an amazing day also!! :) :)

xx Charlee

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Naturally!

coffee stainSo, dearest weblog reader, I chose to solve my ethical dilemma via the old “have your cake and eat it too” strategy. I decided to reschedule hanging out with Mason for Friday and go out with Mr. Martini on Saturday.

It’s been terribly, and I do mean terribly, cold outside in my geographical region and I wanted to have a wing woman, naturally, so I decided to have Mason and Chad come to our place for dinner and drinks on Friday. All was going well, when Mason decided to tell me that he “was kind of hoping we could be alone” because he had something to tell me. Well, I didn’t know how to take that, but then he dropped the bomb on me that he didn’t know how to tell me but he had been wanting to quit for a while, but “then he realized we can still hang out outside of work”, and that this realization had led him to feel that there is no reason not to quit.

So, the one person at work who is not currently under the care of a psychiatrist nor in need of mental help is QUITTING! Leaving me with the psychos. Naturally.

I was clearly very excited to hear this news–but I must confess that I had the odd sensation (perhaps in part due to his tone of voice and demeanor) that I was being broken up with. He is my work lover (also known colloquially as “work spouse” or “work boyfriend“) and it did in some ways reflect “the talk” between soon to be ex-lovers.  Yes, I do on occasion want to have him as an actual lover, but he’s also the person at work whom I can always bitch to, gossip to, and whom I genuinely like–therefore, imagining work without him makes me frown.

Naturally, I’m quite upset over this recent development.

So now I am going to go eat my feelings and console myself with pizza (naturally).

-C

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Save the drama fo’ yo’ mama…

Oh gosh, people are so fucking absurd!  This is a thought I have very often but I really cannot stop laughing at how silly my coworkers were being today.

I was working with Danielle, whom words really are not sufficient to describe, due primarily to her propensity towards awkwardness. So our conversation goes something like this:

Danielle: “Hey, I don’t want to interrupt your reading, but who was that girl in here the other day?”

Me, trying to make it clear that this interruption was indeed unwelcome: “What girl?”

Danielle:  “Laila said there was a girl here on Sunday. ”

Me (now getting really annoyed):  “There were lots of girls here on Sunday.” (I was hoping to end the conversation here, but true to form, Danielle could not take the hint.)

Danielle:  “Your friend was here, and Laila said you, her, and Chad left together.”

Now, I wasn’t quite sure what to think–as in, I was uncertain why Danielle was bringing this up, what relevance it had, and feeling a tad guilty for not inviting Laila along, tedious though she may be.  Was this the point she was getting at?  So, I said, “Yes, my roomate and I had dinner with Chad and Mason on Sunday.”

Then, with a look that can only be described as completely asinine, Danielle said, “Well…Laila likes Chad.”

Give me a FUCKING break!  Seriously!

I mean, I know that Laila is a bit younger, and to be fair she missed out on the experience of high school so perhaps she’s trying to live out all of that bs now, but I do not have time for such silliness in my life.  Apparently, though, Danielle and Laila do.

I didn’t really know what to say–I was partially annoyed that they were being so nosey/discussing this issue amongst themselves, and partially annoyed that they’d think it appropriate to say something to me about it.  I don’t consider whatever relationship Laila and Chad may or may not have my business, and I don’t think Marley and Chad’s relationship is anyone’s business either. So, I just decided to say, “Oh, cool.”  Lame, I know, but I didn’t really know what else to say?

“Well, Chad said he’s going on a date with your roommate tonight.” Danielle replied, with a pretty rude tone in her voice if I do say so myself.

So I said, “Cool.  I haven’t spoken to her today but I’m sure they will have fun.”

I mean, what the fuck people?  Why did this conversation even have to occur?  Danielle spent the rest of the day furiously texting (Laila, I suspect) and giving me the occaisonal evil eye.  It’s just so petty and dumb–but, alas, if there’s one thing I know about women, it’s that they love a good melodrama.

All in all, it was a very annoying day–luckily, the fact that roomie was not available for dinner this evening inspired me to take Mr. Martini up on his dinner offer.  :)  Now I just need to figure out what to wear–Mr. Martini is so not the typical male and I feel like I can’t wear what I’d usually wear on a date with him…that is, nothing too sexy.  Hmmm.

Well I hope everyone has a fabulous evening and please remember children, Save the Drama for Your Mama!!!

xx Charlee

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sexual tension, espresso, and infidelity over cappucinos

Yo.  I have returned.

So today I worked with Mason (rawr) and it was, as usual, intense in a good way–mainly because there is a lot of sexual tension between us, if I do say so myself.  Sadly, I feel that nothing will ever come of it because I find him so terribly attractive that when we are together, most of my energy goes towards toning down my inappropriate urges and I’m therefore incapable of generating witty comments or seductive glances.  Which is quite a bummer, to say the least.

Anyway, it was a relatively uneventful day, aside from the appearance and lack of disappearance for several hours (!) of Mason’s girlfriend.  I’m not the type of person to hate on other chicks (for reason of my devotion to girl power et al), however, home girl is kind of lame.  Enough said. Of course she is stunningly beautiful, but even so, after two hours of her life-suckingly boring comments, that did not do too much to console my sense of annoyance.  Does that make me a bitch?

FYI, my opinion of her is also due to comments Mason has made about her–and therefore is not entirely motivated by jealousy. Not that I’m lacking in the self-awareness department enough to not realize that if she were just some random girl I’d be indifferent to her uncoolness (noun., the state of being uncool); however, she is not just some random girl, she is the girl having a love affair with someone whom I would promptly like to engage in a passionate affair with.  Call me jealous.

I’m not into writing too much about my love affairs, but it suffices to say that there is nothing exciting going on in my love life, and I really need something exciting in terms of romance.  Also, I don’t want to wax too philosophical here, but I suppose any mention of the men in my life requires a little bit of background on my attitude toward them.  In a nutshell, I feel that at this point in my life, the purpose of romantic relationships is to explore and learn–hence, I’m not necessarily a fan of the traditional relationship path that seems to be so common in our society.

More on that later…

But yes–call me a commitment-phobe or a ‘neo-bohemian’–but I think it’s entirely illogical and unfortunate to commit oneself to only one person prematurely.

Of course, everyone says that when the ‘right one’ comes along, I shall change my view.  I don’t really see that happening though.  Hm.

Ironically, in keeping with the idea of commitment, today at work one of the “affair couples” came in.  Now, I suppose most of you out there have not worked in a coffee shop, but we generally get to know customers pretty well…and I cannot believe the number of people out there who use coffee shops to carry out their indiscretions!

I also wonder whether or not they realize that we ALL know they are having AFFAIRS.  I don’t see how they could not realize that we know–so I am left to think they do not care.  That said, one time at the ballet I ran into a customer who is always meeting different women at the shop, however, this time he was with his wife–I’ve never seen someone pull a “duck and run” in such a hardcore manner.  He stopped coming in after that.

If anyone reads this who happens to be a coffee shop cheater, please know that we all know you’re violating your marital vows, and also please stop creepily touching under the tables/between the chairs.  It’s unsettling.
I never thought there were so many philanderers out there until I became a barista.  Seriously.

It’s funny how people are quick to judge my reluctance to adhere to traditional relationship norms yet fail to appreciate our society’s blurred concept of monogamy.

Sorry this got to be a little “deeper” than I might have wanted–I’m going to leave out the reasoning for that.  I’ll let you, my phantom reader, guess.

That’s all for now–I have to get my plans straight for the evening, I believe more drooling is in order as I may be meeting up with Mason for a drink.  Hopefully I will be able to carry on a respectable conversation!

xx Charlee

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