when you’re in the middle of rushing nightly reports so you would be able to go home at exactly 10PM and when you’re just about to staple your paper works, you suddenly ran out of staple wires! Or when you’re in the middle of printing night reports and you ran out of POS rolls! FYI, pos rolls are the paper you put in POS terminal (Point Of Sale or in layman’s term the cash register) which prints out your receipts when you buy in shops or fast foods, which in my case, I use to print my nightly reports.
A few days before, H came to the store bringing this cute little thing with him. After so many attempts at the stuff toy machine, he was finally able to get this! He said this is MR. Luigi, that’s to justify for the letter M on his cap when we all know it’s supposed to be a letter L.
Next on his list is to free one of the Dory’s trapped inside! I really like Dory because she is funny and she has short term memory loss, just like me. Although mine is just developing and hers is full blown stml! How many tokens are we going to waste just be able to get our hands on her?
I’ve been wanting to de-clutter my pc from files and programs that I hardly use or won’t need but I can’t seem to find the time for it.
Tommorow is pay day and I am going S-H-O-P-P-I-N-G coz it’s 3-day SALE in SM!!
I want a new phone and a laptop. wishful thinking.
Last Wednesday was sports night. My off was spent watching several olympic games and cheering Ginebra all the way until they beat Air 21 to the championship. This was to my delight since I won a bet with H which involves a foot spa and a pedicure. It was finally time for H to leave when his pick up became uncooperative and just stood still there for minutes, refusing to start. Seeing that H was starting to sweat bullets (literally and figuratively), I decided to call my dad. He checked the battery and came to the decision to switch H’s battery with our car’s battery. I stood there, watching my dad dismantle H’s battery and replace it with ours’ while the mosquitoes are having a blast sucking the blood on my legs. This went on for almost an hour but to no avail since our battery’s too small to handle H’s pick up. The last resort would be to call a mechanic in the wee hours of the evening. So off we went to the mechanic’s house, back to our house, only to hear the mechanic say that we can’t do anything about H’s dead battery since we won’t be able to find a new battery that late in the evening. So we had no choice but to send the mechanic home, drop H at their house and their pick up stayed at our house. I was supposed to be on straight duty the following day (7am til 10pm) but figured I won’t be able to wake up on time so I
begged asked my co manager to vouch in for me, that he’ll be the opening manager instead and he can have his off the next day.
The following day, they were able to bring H’s pick up back to life with the help of two other mechanics. I went to work, had a few chats with my co manager about the whole turmoil the previous night, went to check our telephone bill to check unauthorized long distance calls made by our crews, then started feeling really ill. My head started to ache really bad and several pukes to the toilet later, I made the decision to go home. I will just be an unproductive burden to everyone in the store if I will stay there, lying, vomiting and whining on how bad my head aches. I had to puke one last time on my way home. I was feeling so bad I did not argue with tricycle driver when he was asking for P30 wherein I should only be paying himP25. If I wasn’t feeling well that driver won’t get away with charging me P5 more but I didn’t have the energy to argue with him, I just gave him P30 and went straight to bed. I din’t know you could get sick just like that and I didn’t know the pain would go away just like that. After I woke up I was feeling ok already.
We thought all throughout the entire film no one would utter a single, decent, intelligible word but we were wrong. After seeing this movie’s trailers in the cinemas for months right before a movie starts, we finally got to see what the fuss was all about. This movie beat Wanted in the box office, but still, Finding Nemo remains as my favorite animated film.
One of our cashiers calls me in the middle of one of her transactions;
cashier: mam, anong flavor ng pizza natin?
cashier to customer: mam, supreme po yun pizza namen.
customer: anong pizza?
cashier: looks at me in confusion
me to customer: mam supreme po yun flavor ng pizza
customer: hindi, tinatanong ko anong picha ngayun
cashier: supreme nga po
customer: anong picha? anong date?
me: aug 11!
After the transaction, the cashier bursts out in laughter.
The next day a customer hands me a piece of paper, written on that piece of paper is what their boss instructed them to buy. Usually, when bosses would ask their assistants/maids/drivers/slave to buy something from us, they would write it on a piece of paper to avoid confusion since some of our breads are difficult to pronounce for those who are not familiar with italian/french breads. As soon as I reached for the paper, I turned to read what is written and it said “1 scissor salad”. Wow, what a boss. She/He wants scissor salad. Haha.
Yesterday, I overheard one of our customers talking or should I say, complaining to my trainee manager. I didn’t want to step up and be the one to talk to her because I didn’t want to join in all that fuss and hullabaloo. Believe me, I’ve talked to way too much customers of that kind and I don’t want them to ruin my almost perfect day. “That kind” meaning; arrogant, poor turned rich, social climbing bitches who think their stomach is made from royal linings that they would instantly catch a disease once a mediocre-not-royalty-worthy-prepared-food enters their equally royal stomach. These type of customers are divided into two classifications. The first classification are those hard core rich customers that despite the very steep price of our food, still manages to eat here once in a while or can even afford to eat their entire breakfast, lunch, dinner, and merienda here if they want to, without making a single dent in their wallet. Thus, because they’re so rich, they expect everyone and everything around them to be perfect and one single mistake and disliking to their taste will make you go to shame hell. They will make you feel that every single cell and nerve in your body is inferior as compared to theirs. The second classification is much worse. These customers are not born rich but made their way to richdom either thru blood, sweat and tears or thru fucking a rich foreigner. Since they are now richer, they want to establish their status in the society by shaming those who aren’t up to their level. Once they’ve shamed somebody who is not as rich as you, they instantly think that they belong to the elites just like the ones you see in the telenovelas who make fun of the poor. These customers are much worse because before, they were just like everyone else, some even came from the slums and now they’re acting up and it’s so so annoying and frustrating to see them when they act up like dissatisfied customers because they’re so trying hard it makes me laugh like a mad woman and shake my head a thousand times in disbelief seeing them like that.
So going back to that customer, all I heard was that she said she’s very particular with what she eats and she cannot eat something like that because her stomach might be upset. Upset stomach your face. You don’t even look like someone who could afford our food. Anyway, the moment she left, I asked the management trainee what the hell is her problem. Apparently, she was served a spaghetti and she was complaining because all throughout she thought she was going to be served a spaghetti with freshly boiled pasta. Imagine that. She wanted the pasta noodles, the raw, stick like noodles to be put into the boiling water right after she ordered the food. Does she even know how long it will take for that pasta to be cooked before she would be able to eat her spaghetti? And where in the world do restaurants do that? She even said, we should’ve told her earlier. Duh? Are we supposed to tell every single friggin’ customer that our spaghetti noodles are already pre-cooked and portioned and would they still want to continue with the order? She’s the only one who complained about something like that and it’s so stupid. There, she already crossed one one of the things she should do to validate her status in her new rich social circle; complain to an expensive restaurant. maybe next on her list would be to own an authentic Lous Vuitton.