Paul "shares" as only he can.
The weather was absolutely gorgeous here today, so business was lousy. I can't blame the customers--I didn't want to be inside either! Naturally, since I am off tomorrow, it's supposed to rain. Looks like homework in my future....
So the end of semester is hurdling toward me, and thus I have my "final project" hanging over my head while, at the same time, our schools have Spring Break--meaning we'll be open noon to midnight for 9 days straight right when I need to have more time for homework rather than less. Meanwhile, today I get to call all the interviewees who I did not hire and say "Thanks for playing, please try again."
I'm going to toss some Excedrin in my purse. Too bad my bottle of peach schnapps is too big to fit....
*Thank God It's Monday
My ten-hour workday passed like forty-seven hours. Business was agonizingly slow--I sent most of the kids home early (only one complained--she likes lots of hours). For some reason my joints hurt today: shoulders, hips, back and knees all ache, and I went to work with no analgesics in my purse. By the time I came down the stairs from the projection booth to lock up I was hobbling like an old woman. Either there's some kind of front moving through, or I'm getting sick again.
How was your Easter?
It occurred to me that most of my blogging lately has been whining--about being sick, about work, about how much homework I have. Of course, what else is a blog for but to vent? But personally I'm really tired of all my whining and wish I would blog about something else for once. So, as a non-whining interlude, I give you something amusing I got in my email:
Heating instructions for Microsoft TV Dinner:
You must first remove the hieroglyphically embossed plastic cover. By
doing so you agree to accept Microsoft's rights to the TV dinner. You may not give anyone else a bite of your dinner as outlined in the TV Dinner Piracy section of the user agreement. You may, however, let others smell and look at your dinner and are encouraged to tell them how good it is.
For a Windows based PC microwave oven:
- Insert the dinner into the oven and set the oven using the command
- Then enter:
- Closely monitor the PC oven for outside interference by malicious
sources. Should any problems occur, contact your hardware vendor.
For an Apple OS-x Mac oven:
- Insert the dinner and press Start.
- The oven will set itself and cook the dinner to the appropriate
I think I forgot the drink alert. Sorry!
Another 50¢ day. Oh, joy.
That would be Fred.
Ooh! I forgot I was supposed to encourage my readers to "borrow" Fred in an attempt to make him the most world-traveled gnome in history. (No word yet as to whether he will attempt to steal your underpants).
Why do companies make their voice mail systems so difficult to navigate?
I can understand it's cheaper to have a phone bank in Calcutta than live customer service reps in every time zone on the globe, but have you ever noticed how, once you have worked your way through all the various options, you have to enter your account number (which, by the way, you invariably have to repeat anyway, if you finally reach a human)? What if you don't have an account with the company you are calling? Are non-customers not also potential customers?
People are always leaving things in the theaters. If it's a hat or glove or toy we put it in the lost and found box. But if it's a wallet or a purse or a cell phone I try to track down the owner. (I used to assume that the people who lost these things would contact us, but after three different cell phones sat on my desk for a month I started getting pro-active).
Most people don't seem to have their contact information in their cell phone, so unless their address book has an entry labeled "mom" or "home" it's difficult to contact them directly. (And even when they do, we have, on occasion, been yelled at by relatives of the phone's owner for looking up their number). A lot of people also don't have their phone number on their checks (yes, we find checkbooks) and many people whose wallets have been dropped don't seem to be listed in the phone book--at least not at the address on their drivers' license.
So, I call companies--cell phone companies, banks, insurance agencies, doctor's offices...and run into the voice mail maze; almost every time I bang smack into the account number wall, because I don't have an account with them. (One time I tried entering the phone number of the cell whose owner I was trying to find, and ended up getting them credited for one minute of long distance. Another time a bank wanted the account number so I entered it, but then it wanted a PIN!). It used to be you could just pretend you had a rotary phone, not push any buttons, and it would eventually switch you to a person. Now they have "voice recognition" to get around the rotary problem (which is how I ended up getting the long distance credit--when asked to describe my issue I said I had found a lost cell phone--it picked up on the "lost" I guess and decided I had lost a conversation or a connection or something).
If you ever drop your cell phone in my theater, make sure your service provider is T-mobile. They actually have humans, who work on weekends, who will contact you and tell you that your phone is on my desk. Stay away from Sprint--I never was able to reach a person there, and they are closed on weekends.
The Alcohol Knowledge Test written by hoppersplit on Ok Cupid
I'm still working on the story for bullwinkle. I'm up to three paragraphs now. Unfortunately I seem to have CLA (Cerebral Literary Arrest) which, like the dreaded Beal, has no known cure. But I have not forgotten it, nor will I--barring death, dismemberment, or abduction by aliens, I will finish this story!
Just not today.
John Collins has his trackbacks enabled. I must ping him.
John likes college basketball. (I think. If he's talking about wrestling or hockey, somebody let me know...)
Was it good for you, John? It was good for me.
I awoke to an in box full of trackback spam notifications. I checked....The beasts had already been slain and the carcases dragged away. All I had to do was delete the email notifications.
How often does the damsel get to start her day with the dragon already toast?
I wish I could buy the man a beer--or a pound of M&M's®...
Well, I'm feeling a little better today, which is a good thing since my work week starts again this afternoon with the weekly inventory. Two of my cashiers have left for better-paying jobs (I believe even Wal mart starts people out higher than we pay after two years) so I need to set up interviews with assorted applicants, most of whom listed $6/hour or more on the app where it asks 'salary desired'. The weeding out process begins when I call and tell them how
little much we pay. Everybody who agrees to work for a pittance and all the popcorn they can eat gets an interview.
I've always hated interviewing people. At my last job we had an interview questionnaire we had to use that had some of the stupidest questions known to humankind on it (What are your hobbies?--although I suppose if the person answered "collecting small animal parts in formaldehyde," you'd know to give them a pass). There is no set format at the theater, so I just wing it--do you have a car? Are you reliable? Will you work for $5.50 an hour? Can you start today? You know, the important stuff.
So, what's the stupidest interview question you were ever asked? I might toss it out to some of the interviewees just for my own amusement.....
Normally, St. Paddy's Day is not a gift-giving holiday. Some people send cards in an attempt to keep Hallmark in the black, but most people just wear green and hoist a few in tribute to their inner Irishman.
This year it's different. This year, the blogosphere as a whole has received a terrific gift.
Oh, somebody get their flamethrower and crawl into his template--his trackbacks aren't enabled. Thanks.
I survived work, and now have one more day to recuperate before my workweek starts Friday. Forecast: Sleep.
Well, I got antibiotics from my doctor and have been lazing about for the last day-and-a-half, trying to recover a bit of energy before 50¢ Day is upon me tomorrow. Judging by this past weekend (we had over 2000 customers Friday through Sunday) it's going to be hopping. I still have a sore throat and cough, but gravity isn't doing as much of a number on me today as it was yesterday--I thought I was going to melt into the floor a couple of times, my body seemed so oppressed by Sir Isaac's discovery. I suspect I really need another day or two off, but that ain't gonna happen.
I should probably sneak into my class now to see if I've missed anything important....
I have a doctor's appt. this morning, so I hope she can prescribe something that will make me feel better--even if this is a virus and not an infection there has to be something to alleviate the symptoms. (I am an optimist). My boss suggested drinking an entire bottle of Jim Beam on the basis that that much alcohol will kill anything. I'm just afraid it would kill me, too.
On the other hand, I couldn't really feel any worse....
It was my long day at work today; I'm still not well, tired as hell, and I'm headed to bed. Maybe I'll be bloggeriffic tomorrow.....
These last couple weeks, what with the virus-from-hell rampaging through my system (I am now losing my voice, which makes it difficult to hector the employees), the string of against-the-odds disasters befalling my workplace (did I break a hundred mirrors without knowing?) and increased volume of homework my class is requiring, I have fallen behind in my blog reading. One consequence of the latter is that I have also lost touch with all the nuances of the news headlines.
I can't decide if that's good or bad.
Thanks to the lovely and vivacious Cheesemistress, I now know that
U.S. Navy "Horizon Gray" battleship exterior
The One True Color for all painting needs. Only pussies use Army Olive Drab!
Well, the electrician never made it yesterday, so I had to go let him in at 8am this morning. There was a pool of water all over behind concessions because one of the fountain spigots was dripping. I called Pepsi repair after I had most of it mopped up. The repairman explained what caused the problem as he fixed it, but most of it was "man-speak" so I just nodded and smiled. The electrician, who also gibbered on in man-speak about his work, finished about 11, and because I'd only had a few hours sleep I came home and went back to bed. This makes (adding on fingers and wiggling toes to carry the one) fourteen consecutive days without an entire day off from work. Being on salary sucks sometimes.
I'm waiting for the electrician to call me to say he is on his way so I can let him into the theater. Once there, I will call my boss and tell him the bad news about the sound in #2. I'm going to have the cashier warn the customers that there might be sound problems, but I still expect to get yelled at because 50¢ Day patrons are much less tolerant of mechanical or other problems than other customers. (I once had a 50¢ customer demand a refund because the seat he was in was uncomfortable! Sheesh, buddy--there are a hundred other empty ones you can try!)
Pray for me.
I've been complaining so much lately that I resolved to start blogging about good news. Today the projector repairman (the one who reminds me of Smoky from The Big Lebowski) fixed the last possible thing that could be causing the sound in theater two to go in and out (last week he replaced the speaker, and the week before he exchanged the exciter lamp for a laser reader), the "crossover"--what ever that might be...
Except, the sound still is getting quieter, then louder, in theater two. He has replaced everything possible that could be causing the problem, and we still have the problem.
I think we need an exorcist.
I think I mentioned that both my Assistant Managers left town for Spring Break. That means no day off for Susie. Just as well, since I'm still trying to get the deceased projector ressurected and am expecting call-backs from electricians and such today. Oh, and one more thing...
I'm sick, so I'm waking up every hour. I finally said screwit and gave up trying to sleep. Instead, I will blog that yesterday's workday was worse than any three recent bad days combined.
Theater one projector--no light (rectifier died). Our biggest movie.
Owner says to cancel movie in 3 and move people from house one to house 3.
Attempt to move movie from house 1 to house 3. Cut it out of brain. Different brand platters, so no center ring. Twisted. Misshapen. Takes 45 minutes to move and re thread.
Customers yelling at employees for refunds.
Hurrying. Start movie, go to get yelled at.
They want their dollar and they want it NOW. No takee passes, want dollar!!. Gerk!!!!!! 3 against 1! NO fair!
I go to my office to cry--no time, movie is melting! Passes for everyone else. Film all twisted around one gate. Hour and a half to cut out of projector and splice and wind. Have to watch it--film still misshapen and trying to slide off platter. Finally ready 5 minutes before next show time.
Whole body aches and coughing up florescent green matter. Projector stops for no known reason. Movie restarted. Does it again. Spent the rest of the night watching in case.
Of course I had my most hopeless clerk helping me during the initial crisis. He's a sweet boy, but new and not the sharpest crayon. He's one of those people who, the harder they try, the worse they screw up. Thank God the night shift came on in the middle of the disaster--two veterans who I didn't have to explain everything to in words of one syllable. Both my assistant managers had left town and headed south for Spring Break, my best clerk had the day off, and my second best clerk was working the ticket booth. (He--my almost-the-best-clerk--came upstairs to help me once the night cashier came in, and if it weren't for him I think the movie would still be wound around the first gate.)
Re-reading my depiction, I realize that I left out some of the more gruesome details. I thinks it's because once the crisis started I was working on auto-pilot and my memory is more like a slide show of the highlights than a straight-line recollection. One of the sharpest slides is of the customer who wanted his money back and threatened to take us to small claims court for his $7.00 (He had a wife and some kids with him--I didn't actually count them, but there must have been five if he paid for seven people). I did not say "Do you know how stupid you sound?" although I was struck speechless. And not only did this guy and the other two women who were demanding their money back intimidate my employees into running upstairs every five minutes to convey their demands to talk to me, but they were, IMHO, at fault for the movie getting eaten, since I rushed to get the movie threaded so I could deal with them, and then was downstairs listening to them tell me how they didn't have time to hang around and watch the movie (although they had lots of time to yell at me and my employees) instead of upstairs making sure the movie was operating properly. I decided that if, God forbid, this ever happens again, I'm going to tell the kids to have the complainants choose a delegate to send upstairs to talk to me while I work, since they seem to think that a manager's job is to tend to them and only them and their petty little complaints. Maybe if I make them help lift a hundred pounds of film off one platter and carry it to the other side of the building without it unraveling they'll appreciate what their dollar was spent on.
Dream on, right? My best cashier (who got a job managing a pet store and I miss very much) once pointed out to me that people don't get it--they think that movies are like their DVD players at home, that we just push a button and can rewind and fast forward and all that. They have no concept of the complicated machinery that runs a movie.
Yesterday, work was a nightmare. I woke up way too early today but managed to get done enough homework to merely be behind instead of drowning. I think I might be getting the flu. More homework, then off to work I must traipse. Oh joy.
I'm up to three paragraphs on the story, although no religious holidays have yet made an appearance.
I seem to be in one of those troughs of inertia I get occasionally, this time in regard to school. So far this semester I have turned in every assignment early, but now the procrastinator in me has hopped in the driver's seat, and it's like there is an invisible wall between me and my schoolwork. This is not good. This is my last class for my Master's and I need to ace it to make up for the "C" I got in jerk-face's class last Spring. I would blame it partly on all the stress at work lately, and partly on being so sick of Winter I could scream, but I suspect it is really the result of some internal inveterate rhythm that is random and unavoidable.
The question is, how do I kick-start my volition? How do I wrestle the procrastinator into the back seat so I can concentrate on school? I'm going to cart my text with me to work in hopes I can fool myself into reading a couple of chapters between shows--and crises--but even if I crack the book I'm not sure I'll be able to concentrate (not because of distractions, but because of an attention deficit).
Urrrgh! Somebody tell me where to buy some initiative, I'll pay good money (not to be confused with Bad Money) for it...
I think what irks me most about being yelled at because concessions is closed (last night's example pounded on the projection booth door while I was upstairs turning on the lights for the egressing shows) is they always say they wouldn't have bought the large if they'd known they weren't going to get a refill. Think, people. The medium is 22 oz. for $3.00. The large is 32 oz. for $3.25. You're saying that you're angry because you couldn't get an additional 32 oz. of pop, but 22 oz would have satisfied your thirst just fine? Please.
Because some patrons just don't get it, I've asked my clerks to remind customers attending the last set that they need to get their refills before (insert closing time here). They remember the reminder about 75% of the time. And not once, not one single time, has a customer said "Well, in that case I'll just take a small." That I-wouldn't-have-bought-it-if-I'd-known stuff just doesn't fly.
And if you can read on the sign where it says that there's a free refill on large, why can't you read the next line that says concessions close at 7:30?
I heard somewhere "a person is smart; people are stupid." I am really really getting burned out dealing with stupid persons. I am exhausted having to deal with the lowest common denominator when it comes to the meaning of "every day" or explaining why, on Fridays and Saturdays when shows that start after 5pm cost $1.50, you can't buy a ticket for the 7pm show at 4:50 and only pay $1.00.
Last weekend we had people stacking up in the lobby waiting to get into our most popular movie. I went to check on the clerk who was cleaning up after the prior show and learned that the reason she was taking so long is that a couple who were watching the end credits made her stop sweeping because it was distracting them, saying they had "paid good money" to see the movie without kids running around blocking the screen. I told her that if that ever happens again to offer the people three cents to leave, because that's about much of their admission price applied to the end credits.
Thanks for letting me vent. You guys are great!
My workday started with the discovery that our supply delivery driver had tried to stack some fifty-pound bags of raw popcorn on our candy counter--our glass candy counter--with obvious results. Well, obvious to everyone but him anyway. My workday ended with a customer yelling at me because concessions was closed and he couldn't get a refill on his Pepsi an hour after everyone had gone home except me.
I have to go pick up the replacement glass counter top tomorrow, and let in the electrician who was supposed to come today but rescheduled.
I'm drinking Sprite with 2 shots of Peach Schnapps. One of my sisters gave me the bottle for Christmas and tonight seemed like a good time to crack it open. It's peachy, with a hint of spriteness.
I am now going to go kill things like Cave Lupes and Spectral Mummies...
March is roaring in like a wildebeest and I've slept away most of the day. I did need to catch up on my sleep, but now I feel all blurry. I need my drug of choice (caffeine) to get me going, but if I drink coffee this late in the day I'll never get to sleep
tonight tomorrow morning, and then I'll be operating at half-speed for 50¢ day...
I still have my accounting homework hanging over me (if I stand up too quickly I'll whack my head on it) so I have to close MT and open Excel....spreadsheet, here I come!