An Interaction At The Workplace

Today I was waiting to be served when I heard the checkout staff having a conversation.

Dramatis Personae of the skit:
Troll Girl – about 4 foot tall, rectangular head with greasy blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She wears a red t-shirt with baggy trousers and has the bored yet dazed expression of cattle. He voice is low and ejaculated in the warped guttural growl caused by speaking the patois of the valleys. She is ageless. I would guess early twenties but she could be anywhere between 16 to 40 her features are of such a strangely timelessly blank setting.
Young Man – About 5 foot 9 inches, so not ‘manly tall’ but sufficiently enough he towered over the girl. An oval face with a gelled Mohawk hairstyle and skin slightly too pink as if he had used defoliating pads excessively. Wears a black buttoned up shirt and matching trousers. He is likely in his early 20s but could be younger.

TG: So how you getta invite to sucha fancy doo den? I din get invited…
YM: Dunno, they just asked me.
TG: You gonna weara rented tux like you said you was? You gonna cumin an’ show me it before you go?
YM: (visibly uncomfortable) Um… no I will probably go straight there since its straight after work and I’ll only have enough time to get ready before leaving.

Sometimes I wonder if people don’t know how to respect co-worker’s boundaries. Often I think I am perhaps asking too much of co-workers sometimes but, on the other hand, it is to show an interest in them as an individual outside of being a co-worker and often I just hope it sparks a conversation over potential common ground we may not have been aware of otherwise. More often than not I feel like I am being needlessly nosey though. Maybe I am… I hope not…The girl seemed needlessly intrusive and passive aggressive. I got the impression the guy had been invited to something prestegious so there was a bit of projected jealousy being taken out on him needlessly.

… Saying that he put a bottle of barbeque sauce in with my new, light coloured, coat so I can’t give him that much sympathy as cruel as it sounds. Decorum and all that hey what old chap. Bit of the old common sense. Buying a new coat here – wouldn’t mind having an extra bag to ensure I don’t need to risk returning with a complaint of ‘the reason the coat is damaged is your staff don’t practice due care in their duties’. Probably would fight tooth and nail not to give a refund, replacement or credit note. Kind of get the impression it could be that kind of place.

We have to pay for carrier bags in shops here in Wales in case you were unaware. 5 pence per carrier bag they charge! Where does that money go? The government told businesses to charge for bags but not what to do with the money they take for them. Some give it to charity while others treat it as an extra bit of profit. It was meant to put people off wasting plastic bags or littering with them, in order to aid national recycling efforts, but it seems to have had no real effect except that one time a celebrity was seen with a give-a-way fabric bag and crowds flocked to have one of their own as conscientiously dedicated followers of fashion.

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Yes I had nothing to write today… thus you get a little bit of rambling but then what did you expect to find on a blog called ‘Rambling At The BridgeHead’?

Tomorrow… Who knows what I will write. Something more interesting hopefully.

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Happiness Week: Tuesday

My co-worker arrived before me waiting outside our workplace to be let in. She stood in my exact spot near the door where there is no windchill during these cold Winter days. On the exact flagstone I stand on every morning. That’s okay. I was later than her as she arrived early today. I needed a break from this daily, reassuring, morning routine. She always has something interesting to say about the ongoing scandal about the lack of lids for her take-a-way morning coffee. I dont know how she can survive the 10 minutes from the coffee shop to us being let in so she can make her first cup of tea for the day. She must surely risk dehydration. It’s not as if I take that time every morning to silently meditate and listen to the water of the running river and the birds in the air singing their songs. She said she was my friend once. That is a generous thing to say. She is a good person.

MY ZUBAT EVOLVED INTO GOLBAT! 🙂

I prefer courtesy to my colleagues over personal self-interest. They all really appreciate that I do this for them.

The equipment keeps giving everyone static shock. That’s okay. We need to be kept warm and if the cost is that the air in our office is dry enough to allow the build-up of static electricity then so it must be. It made my co-worker’s dry cough all the more worse though. She coughed enough she began to hallucinate she was becoming a lake due to how much she had drank during the day to compensate for the stuffy enviroment inside. She even refused to have the window open when it was offered. Such consideration! We were all so thankful, after all, static electricity is a vital part of many industrial processes including, but not limited to; xerography, air filters (particularly electrostatic precipitators), automotive paints, photocopiers, paint sprayers, theatres, flooring in operating theatres, powder testing, printers, static bonding and aircraft refuelling.

My co-worker sneezed into her scarf repeatedly and then wore it, no doubt, making her ailments worse. That is such a hygienic thing to do. I am sure none of her nasal content solidified on her neck when she left. She likes pink. Pink bobblehat. Pink leather gloves. Pink scarf… though she insists it’s salmond and insists on pronouncing the ‘d’ in salmond even though the colour is salmon while [Alex] Salmond is the Former First Minister of Scotland. She is very intelligent.

No one could bring themselves to say goodbye to me when I left. That’s okay. It would be too sad to do that and I wouldn’t want to upset them.

When I returned home my cat scratched my hand deeply because I stroked him. It bled for a while but at least it means my body can heal now. He would come by me, look expecting to be fed and then walk away again. Once the others came he was very friendly with them and got a fuss. He still has no name. He still watches from the top of the stairs if there is no food. He sticks his bottom in the air a lot when stroked. He has a pink anus. My co-worker would like him.

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Even more happiness. Have you got diabetes from the saccharine nature of these posts? Even more tomorrow!
And now part 1 of the infamous Duck Song to send you on your way.

Duck song part 1