I just popped into the Gronk, and found it mildly amusing to read the below-referenced this With my ego inflated by Andy’s statement about the quality of my writing, I felt the need to put myself to the test and see If I couldn't type up a nice little rant with the original O.B.D. flare. Here goes nothing:
*HINT* Quickly avert your eyes from the below paragraph, as prolonged exposure to writing of such low quality is known to cause severe decrease in satisfaction, as well as potent intestinal cramping. *HINT*
Okay, recently I signed on to the great American Work Force known as "Century Sixteen Theaters" (It's really a story in itself, but its also a story my lazy ass isn't gonna bother to post until I'm good and ready). There are a couple things I'd like to complain about, not in any specific order.
The Work Force
Con:
Century is currently home to about 140 employees. Roughly 8 people are needed each day for a complete shift. If its a given that there are 7 days in a week, then 8 times 7 is 56. (Why is it 56? If you recall, any good student knows from his multiplication tables that 8*7 is 56 simply because it aligns to form the revered "five-six-seven-eight." I know, I know, I'm good. But its because I know these things that I work in a low hourly wage theatre management position, while you probably get some crappy set amount salary as C.E.O. of the Frilly Long-Necked Male Sweater company. If you knew your math in the first place, you'd add things up to realize that everyone hates frilly long-necked male sweaters.) So, in math speak: 56 > 140 so (Century Theatres) = (Suck my Balls). Sorry, I lost my train of thought. The other thing is that one of the guys I work with likes to scream "Nooooooo! Popcorn, Noooooo!" when he pours hot butter on popcorn for customers. That paired with the fact that he talks like a disgruntled Dana Carvey makes for an unpleasant working environment.
Pro:
I have a hot manager who's as old as I am. I bet she'd like to butter my popcorn
Con:
The hot manager has a boyfriend.
Pro:
What the hot manager' doesn't know is that her boyfriend secretly butters his pocorn with other men. The manager will be mine in days, and soon it will be nothing but continuous trade of sexual favors for pay raises.
The Actual Job:
Con:
My uniform is extremely ugly i.e. the vest I wear has the same pattern as the carpet in the lobby. It also possesses a permanent odor of popcorn, an odor my skin soon to will possess.
Pro:
I get laugh at co-workers when they do anything involving the theater hot dogs. (You know, the nasty, stereotypical, warmed and rewarmed, 100% cat meat grease missiles).
Con:
I get laughed at by co-workers when I do anything involving the theater hot dogs. (See the above Pro for reason.)
Pro:
I get all the free movies I want. Which is why I watched John Q early today. Does anyone else think the kid looks like a young Gary Coleman?
Con:
I have to serve gigantic bags of popcorn to dangerously obese women. They always ask for extra butter. Always.
*Daniel's 60 second guide to determining whether you are too fat to be consuming theater popcorn*
-If you regularly consume large amounts of popcorn during a movie only to find that hundreds of kernels find their way down your shirt and lodged themselves in between large columns of cellulite, it is my personal opinion that you have exceeded the safe guidelines for popcorn consummation. (You'd be surprised how accurately this describes a large portion of my clientele)-
Anyways, that’s about all I have to gripe about now. I'm sure each new day of work will yield new complaints.