In line to fly Southwest, spot A-21 (nice!). A girl is standing at spot 20 and says she's spot 25. I point out that she belongs further back, behind us, and she gets a snotty superior face/tone, backs up about six inches and points to the area and says "Here, take all this space." I opt to not explain to her how the cattle call system works, but a guy walks up and says he's spot 22 so I say, "here - you're right behind me" so the girl has to back up.
Then, while boarding they announce "this is a completely full flight" and she slides into a row and puts all her crap on both sides of her to protect from anyone sitting with her. Obviously, that doesn't work, so I'm secretly happy. But, man, some people can be annoying.
Her usual other target has quit to take a government job, so I'm primary now. Another one of our staff is leaving today and she went to the store and bought a "Where the Wild Things Are" cake because the only other one was for a funeral. It was a valid tossup, but she made the right choice.
Here is where I'll keep count of the number of times I hear her tell about the decision-making process, and/or the deciding factor being that this one has "whipped cream frosting so it isn't so sweet."
Our receptionist is very chatty this morning and she doesn't have any other targets yet.
Her usual other target has quit to take a government job, so I'm primary now. Another one of our staff is leaving today and she went to the store and bought a "Where the Wild Things Are" cake because the only other one was for a funeral. It was a valid tossup, but she made the right choice.
Here is where I'll keep count of the number of times I hear her tell about the decision-making process, and/or the deciding factor being that this one has "whipped cream frosting so it isn't so sweet."
It's a glorious drizzly 61° outside, settling into some fall weather after an unseasonably hot summer. So what happens? The women demand we close the doors and turn on the heat. It's 78° and stuffy in here and those of us who saw the forecast and wore flannel are miserable. Okay that's just me. Yet I am annoyed.
i'd offer to exchange clothing or disrobe
because resist...
It's a glorious drizzly 61° outside, settling into some fall weather after an unseasonably hot summer. So what happens? The women demand we close the doors and turn on the heat. It's 78° and stuffy in here and those of us who saw the forecast and wore flannel are miserable. Okay that's just me. Yet I am annoyed.
Oooh. Open windows and doors and a breeze coming through the place. Heavenly.
It's a glorious drizzly 61° outside, settling into some fall weather after an unseasonably hot summer. So what happens? The women demand we close the doors and turn on the heat. It's 78° and stuffy in here and those of us who saw the forecast and wore flannel are miserable. Okay that's just me. Yet I am annoyed.
The workplace radio is currently tuned to the local pop country station. The last 2 consecutive songs have name-checked Bud Light, and the second one had fake banjo in there.
That doesn't sound like a healthy work environment.
