Told yesterday to report to work today for a special assigment. "Be in at noon", they say. Great.
So I head in, and because I'm in a rush, I hit a McDrive-thru to get what I can.
My luck, I wind up behind one of those folks who are way too plentiful in wonderful Northern Virginia: a foreigner who clearly has never been to a drive-thru before. This woman is the only one between me and my food and my continued trek towards work (and I'm really pushing the "late" thing by this time) and she sits there at the speaker and keeps asking questions about the selections and what they are.
It's freaking McDonalds, lady! Same food in every part of the allegedly civilized world! (I did not really think "freaking".)
It takes her like 3-4 minutes to order one damned Happy Meal and a grilled chicken sandwich, because she's really confused about what a grilled chicken sandwich is and her accent isn't helping matters, especially coupled with the accent of the foreign kid on the other end of the speaker.
I finally get my damned food and race towards work. At five minutes to noon, just as I'm hitting our driveway, I get a text from my boss. Cancelled. "Sorry for the late notice but I was running in a race this morning and wasn't able to get the notification out."
Are you flipping SERIOUS?! (I did not really say "flipping".)
So I turn around and drive back home. Only now it's raining, and when the roads in Northern Virginia get wet, even just a bit, all those same foreigners that can't order at drive-thrus smash into each other and block the roads for the rest of us. Four different crashes on Route Seven alone between Tysons Corner and Leesburg, and naturally three of them consisted of minor fender-benders where the participants felt obligated to just sit in the middle traffic lanes and wait on police instead of moving their virtually-undamaged vehicles onto the shoulder.
Finally back home, four hours after leaving, with nothing to show for it except a relatively rare day off right out the freaking window. (I do not really mean "freaking".)
Oh--and I get to report back tomorrow, too. And they wonder why I count the days to retirement.
I hate the Leesburg Pike in any weather other than perfect. I also hate the beltway.
ReplyDeleteIn Southern California, I hate all freeways equally.
In SoCal, the only accent you have to deal with is Spanish, and if you speak Spanish (even um poco) you can get the point across. In DC/Northern VA, it's not just "African", it's which dialect of Swahili or Arabic or Nigerians trying to speak English, etc.
Your Mexican restaurants do NOT serve Mexican food. At least I'm not aware of any. It's all El Salvadorian food, and it is not the same. SoCal at least does Mexican food well.
Did your boss win the race he/she won? Cutting the Achilies tendons can finish those aspirations.
In Colorado we get Ebonics meets Spanlish over worn out speakers. Hilarious, unless you are in line behind them.
ReplyDeleteI've had days like that.
ReplyDeleteToo many just like that.
Lemme guess - you were trying to get home when the sky turned black as night and we got hammered with a torrential downpour?
ReplyDeleteMan, I hope you went and got some Range Therapy when you got home... Traffic in the DC area always sucks, but today it was extra special. I blame it on people whose previous mode of transportation had 4 legs...
ReplyDeleteHow many years before retirement Murphy? If you need a break pack the dogs in the plane and fly over to my local FOB, I've got plenty of room, lots of great gun shops and places to shoot!
ReplyDeleteOuch... At least I actually got INTO work, but couldn't do anything due to the weather...
ReplyDeleteDrivers around DC are something special. As a co-worker at a particular place in MD phrased it back in the mid-80's. "We have a mix of driving styles from all over the world that range from dangerously aggressive to dangerously timid".
ReplyDeleteSince when does "flipping" go together with "kiss my ass?"
ReplyDelete"flipping" "freaking"
ReplyDeleteI think I know what you are really saying...
:-)
gfa
+1 Guffaw
ReplyDeleteEven worse for me are the people who stand in line in complete view of the giant menu waiting to order. When they get to the front, the cashier asks "may I help you" and it's as if it never occurred to them that somebody would ask them that particular question any time in their foreseeable future. They look around like they were trying to decide between pizza or a subway sandwich and they're standing in a Burger King.
ReplyDelete