So Good-bye Yellow Blog Road
The one problem with watching the Muppet Show, season 2: I have a sudden and overwhelming urge to go back and listen to the old Elton John songs. Not only because in his heyday, Elton was (Captain) fantastic, but it's also somewhat nostalgic. My Dad, being the fan that he is of rock& roll, raised me on the songs of Elton John, along with the likes of Kiss, Meatloaf, the Stones, Bowie and Alice Cooper.
That said, I must extend fondest birthday wishes to Kevin. Yea, despite the greyish days and wet lawns, there is a glimmer delight and happiness for a day as monumental as this. For your birthday, I shall bestow upon you perhaps the greatest gift I know: for the remainder of this blog--nay, for the rest of today, I shall keep my pants on.
Pants: is there any greater way to feel my lurv?
(and best of all, no pesky wrapping paper!)
...the week has seen its ups and downs, and thus far things may have reached a turning point in the form of a two week's notice handed in by the employee who has been giving everyone in the store (and subsequently me) so much grief. With the ball rolling the way it is, I have about twelve days left before there's a collective sigh of relief. (And possible a night spent with parades of insults, toasts over her departure and much liquor.)
The catch is: there's a lot of damage that can be wreaked in those twelve days, and with our store being as inevitably busy as it will become, I may spent a lot more time mopping up the proverbial messes she leaves in her wake. Mind you, that means I'll probably have the opportunity to dismiss with extreme prejudice, and that entitles me to cheerfully sign "Do Not Rehire" on her termination papers.
For now, all we can do is wait and see. I'm not holding out hope that she won't pull a stupid stunt or two, but I've effectively reached a point where I'm beyond caring if she tries to sic anyone on me. The only reason I haven't walked away myself was out of respect for my district manager, and knowing that if I left at the peak of Back to School, I'd be screwing her over in ways unimaginable.
There will be other bits of nowhere between then and now, to be sure. But check back with me in 2 weeks. You might see some streamers hanging from the rafters, and a punch bowl set up in the corner. If that's the case, feel free to raise a glass wherever you are and toast with me.
And while you're at it, raise a glass right now and toast to Kevin. He's earned it. And it's probably a much nicer gift for him than the pants girding my loins. Though mine will garner a greater appreciation over time, especially on those frequent occasions I'm running loose without them on. Come to think of it...there's a Dr. Seuss story about pants running amok, isn't there?
Labels: Elton John and other childhood melodies, Muppets, pants are birthday lurv, the politics of work and its inherent stupidities
posted by Phillip at 1:13 PM
