May 11, 2011
Hello, My Name Is Wenchie
And I'm an enabler.
Lemme 'splain.
Around 11:00 yesterday, The Good Reverend Doctor Vy realized that her meeting with Lord God King and Highly Paid Consultant was going to run late, i.e. right into the lunch hour. So Vy waved me into their conference room, handed me her credit card and asked me to write down what they all wanted for lunch.
FLASHBACK! I broke out in a cold sweat, remembering my nine years as a waitress at various local establishments. I thought the days of serving my "betters" and trying to read my own hasty handwriting were over. But no. I also thought that waitress was as low as I would have to stoop that day. Again -- no.
You see, all three of them wanted roast beef sammiches from the deli downstairs. On wheat. And soup. And a Coke Zero, but if they don't have that, then a Diet Coke is fine. Lettuce, tomato, mustard and mayo on the sammiches, exept one without mustard.
And while the good folks at the deli will happily make you a turkey, ham, corned beef or tuna salad sammich, if you want a roast beef sammich, you have to make it yourself at the salad/sammich bar. I don't know who made that decision, nor do I know the reasoning behind it, nor would knowing the answers make my life suck any less.
People. I am forty-one years old. I got what my mother and others fondly refer to as "a real job" years ago, specifically to avoid ever having to work with food again. I don't wanna make it, and I don't wanna serve it. I don't wanna wear a name tag and/or a paper hat.
And I sure as hell didn't want to stoop to short order cook.
So there I was, in my cashmere Banana Republic cardigan and 2-3/4" heels, at the deli sandwich bar, making multiple roast beef sammiches. On wheat. With mayo. I hate mayo. I hate the smell; I hate the texture. It's slime, and I got it all over my hands because some sammich-makin'-newbie before me got mayo all over the handle of the mayo spatula.
DAMMIT! Of course, there were no napkins readily available, so I wiped my hands on my pants, and now I probably have may-oil stains on my work pants. DOUBLE DAMMIT DING-DONG DUMMY FUCK!
I took my stack of individually packaged, handmade roast beef sammiches, and I ordered three cups of soup, two broth-based, one cream-based. Let them fight it out over who gets which, I don't give a crap. Got the crackers. Got the spoons. What was I missing...?
Oh, yeah. The Coke Zero. Well, due to its recent pact with the Devil, the deli carries only Pepsi products. And here, my dear friends, is where I lost all respect for myself. Because instead of just getting a couple Diet Pepsis and expecting the grown-ups to suck it up and drink whatever carbonated, diet cola beverage I gave them, I remembered that they have Coke Zeros in the vending machines on the sixth floor of our building.
Now, before you lose whatever last microbe of respect-like feeling you may have for me, let's remember one thing -- my contract expires in less than three months. Technically, I am still auditioning, and I will take whatever ass-kissing opportunity I can get to wheedle my pathetic, little way into their hearts. If get the job, they will drink swill and like it. But until then, I am The Lunch Enabler.
I balanced the tower of soups on top of the stack of sammich boxes and made my way back, soups nestled between my ample breasts. And if you think I wasn't sweating before, let me assure you -- I sweated my balls off on that last leg of the sammich marathon. I, in fact, defied my DNA and grew balls, for the sole purpose of sweating them off. I'm the next evolutionary step, people! Behold, Ballsweatus Sapien!
*sigh* I don't wear a hard hat. I don't wear a ring of keys on my belt. I shouldn't be sweating at work.
Oh, and today, I had to go get two cobb salads. But at least I didn't have to make them myself. A promotion, indeed! Can my very own reserved parking space be far behind?
Comments
WOW, just wow. There is no way in hell would I have done the Coke Zero thing. I'd make the sammich, but I'd give it the evil eye the entire time and hope it gave them heartburn.
Nice job on the ball growing, that's impressive!!
Posted by: Hope at May 11, 2011 10:14 AM
Coke Zero is my addiction. In fact, I am drinking one now.
Posted by: Rachelle at May 11, 2011 01:56 PM
Good to know you have your principles, Hope.
I WAS kind of praying that they would all get food poisoning...
Posted by: Wenchie at May 12, 2011 08:21 PM