Monday, February 8, 2010

Orange Juice Floor Mats Cause Cancer

If you read my (admittedly few) blog posts, you'd think that I did nothing but deal with strange or dickish customers. You'd be right. But I've missed a very large group of dickish people that I deal with on a daily basis: my co-workers.

To be fair, most of my co-workers are good people. But sometimes, well....

Take what happened last Saturday. I was filling fruit when a manager walks past me. He suddenly stops and begins staring at the floor, then turns away and keeps walking. I can't see what he's staring at, nor do I care. I assumed it was a lost baby, but since I didn't hear any screaming, I did nothing.

A minute later, another manager walks past me and stares at the same spot on the floor. I start to get intrigued, but not enough to go look. Besides, I want to avoid dealing with lost babies.

Another minute later, a third manager walks past the mystery-spot, stops, and stares. She promptly turns around and walks back to me. "Call the janitor and get them to clean up that spill," she bellows. She points to the mystery-spot, then leaves.

I looked on the floor. Lying smashed on the floor is a bottle of orange juice. No crying babies, yapping puppies, nor pots of gold--just orange juice. I searched for a mop, but couldn't find one. I called the janitor, who cleaned the mess.

A spill on the floor is not an amazing story. My co-workers staring at a spill is not an amazing story. My co-workers staring at the spill, walking by the telephone, then telling me to call the janitor, however, is a hilarious story.

Allow me to explain. After each manager stared at the spill, they kept walking. Each one had to walk past a telephone, yet none picked up the phone and called the janitor. Even the manager who told me to call the janitor had to walk by the telephone to get to me.

I work with some bright people. These managers continually tell us that we must keep the floor clean, because if a customer slips, we could get sued. So these managers should be the first people clean up a mess. But they aren't, and I know why: mops cause cancer.

Mops don't cause cancer in just anyone; mops only cause cancer in managers. (Why else would a manger avoid work?) Managers want to avoid cancer, so they get their peons--like me, or the janitor, or the mentally-challenged cart boy--to do any mop-related work.

Mops are sneaky. They don't immediately cause cancer. The cancer comes years later, long after the manager has forgotten about using mops.

I've just found the perfect weapon to get rid of annoying mangers. Of course, that would take years to work, so I'd be stuck until then with the annoying manager. Maybe it's not such a great plan after all.

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