Ah yes. Nothing better than spending a chilly autumn day in the marsh where I can spot the best looking mallard and obliterate his ass before he even knows what hit him.
one fun trick though if you can carefully peel back the top half of one napkin and then pour a silly amount of salt inside, then tuck the napkin top back in… so when your dad comes back and yanks you guys out some napkins it triggers PTSD and then while you’re laughing thats when you realize thats the last time Dad will come back.
Don’t you hate it when you reach for a napkin but then your hand gets stuck to the dispenser and you watch in horror as the sides of the dispenser morph into tentacles that reach out and mercilessly beat you into bloody mush - or they would, if it were a full-sized mimic, but instead the angry lil guy can only pitter-pat against your wrist and you’re all like
Nyawww, lil napkin mimic, so angry and vish! But bro I kinda need my hands back now
So you pat and stroke the napkin mimic until it calms down and even lets you take a napkin like you wanted?
Yeah, unfortunately I don’t know anything about the source individual. I just read this quote in a book recently (The 4-Hour Work Week). There seemed to be 1-2 great quotes in each chapter and I wrote a few of them down.
Some office work too though. If you want to actually win the contracts, you gotta go fast. Granted, it’s not fast all the time, and we can plan when those contracta sprints are coming, to an extent, but I would definitely describe my office job as fast paced.
Not to mention when the customer changes the statement of work you’re bidding on…
Food service is making the best of a bad situation.
Plan everything right then truck shows late/ prep calls off/etc. Too many moving parts. Not even accounting for customer taste.
Transitioned to office work that is technically classified as “fast pace” and worst day of poor planning doesn’t enter top 10 worst days when working food.
All I know is that I long for it for some damn reason. As an Appalachian kid with too little to eat, that shit was heaven. I don’t know if it was just because I was hungry, but I was sad to see it go.
This made me think of something else too.
My mom used to stop at a gas station, send me in first with a food stamp dollar to buy a .05 cent piece of gum. My brother would do the same thing, then we’d drive down to the next station and do it again. Finally, at the third station we’d come to the car and give my mom the change. Once we were done, she could afford enough gas to go visit my aunt and my cousins.
Once the EBT card came out that was over for poor folks.
People would stand outside of gas stations and stop people, “hey bro, I’ll buy you two twelve packs of soda for two bucks. You can get a candy bar too.” They usually end up trespassed. The smart ones would sell the cards for half their value (smart? I know) so they didn’t get banned from stores.
Working in a gas station in Appalachia I seen a number of people open their wallets and have several EBT cards.
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