Okay, something I just have to share.
A couple of weeks ago, I hired a new cleaning crew for my jobsites. I know, nothing ground breaking about this. I've hired plenty of cleaning crews in the past, and I've never felt obligated to tell the world about it. Let me explain.
The crew shows up to clean the first house for me, all of them with eager eyes, calloused hands, and 8 words of English between them. Actually, turned out that one of them did speak a little English. She was the spokesperson apparently. After a few non-threatening questions about the job at hand, I noticed she was in bad need of a quick little shave of the lip. No big deal, I've known lots of women who could use a shave.
I went about my bidness, and after a while, here comes the spokesperson in need of a shave with a few more questions for me. This time as I'm talking to her, I notice that under all that makeup, she had a really broad chin. And she carried herself rather peculiarly. (ha, I just used peculiarly in casual conversation)(not really conversation actually, but still...) And she REALLY needed a shave.
Then it hit me...this chick is ugly. After she left, I used a few of the 13 words in Spanish that I know to try to make some sort of sense of the alternate Universe that I found myself currently inhabiting. It was then that I found out her name was "Paulina".(with emphasis on Paul)
That's right folks! I have been somewhat involved in the construction industry since I was 12 years old, and I experienced something new! Never, ever, ever have I seen a tranny on a jobsite, and now I have one!(that's transvestite for all you peeps past 50 out there) That's right. I have a cross-dresser on my cleaning crew!(she/he does have great taste in ballerina slippers tho)
The issue becomes, how do I address her(him)? Um doesn't seem to be appropriate. "Hey you"? "Hello cleaner person of undecided gender" seems a bit long. How about if I just pretend I don't speak English? Or Spanish?(that ones easy)
All these years, and just when I thought I had it all figured out, life throws me a whole new curve ball! Whatcha gonna do?
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
numb-nuts and other's
You know what I love? Do you? Do you? I love when people call me on the phone and get 7 different levels of righteous on my ass over something. Cuss me. Call me a dumb-ass. Tell me I better figure out what the hell is going on or there's gonna be problems.
I love these people.
These people are what I call...small weenied, narrow minded, numb-nut bastiches! People that, generally speaking, are built somewhere along the lines of the chess club champion from junior high. You know the kind. The guys who think that, through some majik of the telephone, they've grown 8 inches, gained 40 pounds, can now bench press 400 pounds, and look identical to some jerk-wad named Bradd Pitt.
And when they call, they know IT ALL!!! They've done more. They've accomplished feats that were only minutes before figments of Dr. Seuss' imagination. And unfortunately, they know that you're a dumb-ass.(they usually tell you)
You know what I like about these butt munchers? I like driving over to wherever they are and meeting them in person! I like the look in their eye when I actually get out of my truck to talk to them. See, I decided a long time ago that I don't like to be threatened over the phone. Pisses me off actually. If you're gonna threaten me, do it to my face. Don't hide behind a phone, or a computer. That just makes you a wuss!(and me mad)
I mean, I'm not exactly built like Michael Clarke Duncan (God rest his soul), but I'm not exactly Michael J. Fox either. What I have decided is that it doesn't really matter. It has nothing to do with your body size, muscles, hair, freckles, fingernails, or skin color. You're not gonna bully me.
If you want to call me up and have a nice civilized conversation about something, great. If you want to call me up and politely tell me to go pound sand. Great. But if you're calling me to raise your voice and talk to me like crap, just because you're of the belief that since you're on the phone, everybody will bow down & be oh so afraid of you, and know that you're a 7' tall heavily muscled man with a bad attitude
Got knews for you Pedro, you ain't gonna talk to Johnny Boy here that way. I'll come and talk to you about it. Grow a pair and let's have a conversation! Phone make a brother brave, huh!
I love these people.
These people are what I call...small weenied, narrow minded, numb-nut bastiches! People that, generally speaking, are built somewhere along the lines of the chess club champion from junior high. You know the kind. The guys who think that, through some majik of the telephone, they've grown 8 inches, gained 40 pounds, can now bench press 400 pounds, and look identical to some jerk-wad named Bradd Pitt.
And when they call, they know IT ALL!!! They've done more. They've accomplished feats that were only minutes before figments of Dr. Seuss' imagination. And unfortunately, they know that you're a dumb-ass.(they usually tell you)
You know what I like about these butt munchers? I like driving over to wherever they are and meeting them in person! I like the look in their eye when I actually get out of my truck to talk to them. See, I decided a long time ago that I don't like to be threatened over the phone. Pisses me off actually. If you're gonna threaten me, do it to my face. Don't hide behind a phone, or a computer. That just makes you a wuss!(and me mad)
I mean, I'm not exactly built like Michael Clarke Duncan (God rest his soul), but I'm not exactly Michael J. Fox either. What I have decided is that it doesn't really matter. It has nothing to do with your body size, muscles, hair, freckles, fingernails, or skin color. You're not gonna bully me.
If you want to call me up and have a nice civilized conversation about something, great. If you want to call me up and politely tell me to go pound sand. Great. But if you're calling me to raise your voice and talk to me like crap, just because you're of the belief that since you're on the phone, everybody will bow down & be oh so afraid of you, and know that you're a 7' tall heavily muscled man with a bad attitude
Got knews for you Pedro, you ain't gonna talk to Johnny Boy here that way. I'll come and talk to you about it. Grow a pair and let's have a conversation! Phone make a brother brave, huh!
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