I'm baffled at how many people are cluttering up the workforce whose capacities litter the rich territory between "incompetent" and "unemployable". The phenomenon is even more puzzling now that I (finally!) am working for a company that seems to be staffed pretty exclusively with bright, friendly, and very capable people.
A mild case in point:
There's a deli in the mall near my office, and I usually like to hit them up once or twice a week during my lunch hour, as it gives me an excuse to browse the new releases at the record store (do people still call them that?) across the hall. My usual is a smoked salmon sandwich on multigrain bread, which is just a little slice of terrific with some red onions and capers.
I go today (this week's audio haul was an early release from LCD Soundsystem, whose excellent Sound of Silver album has been enjoying regular rotation in my car; and the latest from Thievery Corporation, who I've never checked out before but keep meaning to) and order my sandwich. The girl at the counter asks how I'd like it, and I say that I'd like it the same way they always make it. (Why is this part always so hard? Do they think I'm the only person that knows the goddamned recipe? Good fucking thing I showed up!)
She putters off to make me a smoked meat sandwich, which fortunately one of the other girls catches and corrects. The third lady at the counter starts ringing up my order.
"What did you have?"
"Smoked salmon sandwich. Can I get a Coke with that, please?"
She enters it into the register, and I see "SMOKED MEAT SDWCH" come up. 4.95.
I know that the smoked salmon sandwich costs 6.95, and I'm silly enough to hope that cashier karma comes back to you, so I offer a correction.
"I had the smoked salmon, not the smoked meat."
She scowls.
"Yes, smoked salmon, that's what I put in."
"I just saw it come up as smoked meat." I smile helpfully, hoping that she'll be glad I'm being a responsible citizen and paying the fair price for my meal.
The scowl deepens. A flurry of commands and I see the order get purged.
Another few buttons and "SMOKED SALMON SDWCH" comes up. 6.95. The counter help karma gods smile benevolently upon the Flea.
Clearly irritated at my insolence and her inconvenience, she mutters her parting shot: "They both cost the same anyways."
Classic!
A mild case in point:
There's a deli in the mall near my office, and I usually like to hit them up once or twice a week during my lunch hour, as it gives me an excuse to browse the new releases at the record store (do people still call them that?) across the hall. My usual is a smoked salmon sandwich on multigrain bread, which is just a little slice of terrific with some red onions and capers.
I go today (this week's audio haul was an early release from LCD Soundsystem, whose excellent Sound of Silver album has been enjoying regular rotation in my car; and the latest from Thievery Corporation, who I've never checked out before but keep meaning to) and order my sandwich. The girl at the counter asks how I'd like it, and I say that I'd like it the same way they always make it. (Why is this part always so hard? Do they think I'm the only person that knows the goddamned recipe? Good fucking thing I showed up!)
She putters off to make me a smoked meat sandwich, which fortunately one of the other girls catches and corrects. The third lady at the counter starts ringing up my order.
"What did you have?"
"Smoked salmon sandwich. Can I get a Coke with that, please?"
She enters it into the register, and I see "SMOKED MEAT SDWCH" come up. 4.95.
I know that the smoked salmon sandwich costs 6.95, and I'm silly enough to hope that cashier karma comes back to you, so I offer a correction.
"I had the smoked salmon, not the smoked meat."
She scowls.
"Yes, smoked salmon, that's what I put in."
"I just saw it come up as smoked meat." I smile helpfully, hoping that she'll be glad I'm being a responsible citizen and paying the fair price for my meal.
The scowl deepens. A flurry of commands and I see the order get purged.
Another few buttons and "SMOKED SALMON SDWCH" comes up. 6.95. The counter help karma gods smile benevolently upon the Flea.
Clearly irritated at my insolence and her inconvenience, she mutters her parting shot: "They both cost the same anyways."
Classic!
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
dholokov:
But perhaps they are there because of their lack of ability in the first place, so they are not cluttering up the workforce overall, but merely they are all getting you your sandwich.
monirose:
