College Graduate Slings Burritos to Lazy Cops, Past College Professors, and God-fearing Hair Stylists.

I felt ashamed today for the first time in a long time. I am busting my ass as I normally do at the burrito bordello, because my asshole of a GM is a walking disaster. In the middle of my Expo shift I look up and see an old English professor from college. I panick. As I panick, I realize who she is. She is eyeing me up with this look of disappointment and I feel shame. I ask her if she is who I think she is and she says yes and I feel compelled to explain myself. I immediately say, oh, I graduated...but there is NO money in my career field...so look where I am! What was your major? Communication Major, Telecom Minor. Oh, well, It's cyclinal...things will turn around.
(Um-Kay....) I had a job for a magazine for awhile. I really liked it, but they only paid comission, so...here I am...
End of scene. She walks out as I say, Enjoy your combo, come again...(not really, but fucking-a)

As I turn back to my reality this dude that heard the whole conversation asks me if I have any telecom experience. I (am SO good at keeping a lie going without trying) say a little. Why? He gives me his business card and says that he works with an IT firm and they are hiring. I'm all excited, but it's fucking hilarious, because these people are either seeing my "potential" or showing their pity at my burrito power.

One of our cashiers (who quit) came in today to do a catering order. I was told to try to get her back, so I tried to talk to her. She really liked working for us (BULL) and she said she misses it, but her daughters never see her and...pause..."Do you believe in God?" "Um, yeah" (after I craftfully interjected fuck, damn, and hell into every sentence I used with her) "Do you believe that God can talk to you?" "Did God tell you to quit?" "No...God told me he had something better for me." " I think you can do anything you want to do. If you want to do hair (She wants to style hair....for God, at $20 and up) well more power to you, I just want you to know we really liked having you here..." And so forth. So, I wish God sent me messages like he does to her. I had to fall down half a flight of stairs, burn the fuck out of my arm, get humiliated by my English Teacher, and smell like rice and beans to figure out that maybe I should look for a better gig.
Segueing into:
I can't believe where our tax dollars go.
COPS ARE LAZY ASSES. I am not used to kissing ass when customers are retards, but it's part of the job at the burrito pit. We have phone orders where customers (who are lazy) call in orders and pick them up so they don't have to wait in line to order (but can wait in line for their food). So this fuzz has someone ELSE call in his order and comes 20 minutes later to get it, he is like 4'11'' and has Napoleon complex up the ass. He comes up and bitches, "where's my food?" and the cashiers (happen to be the owner's wife and her sister) think that the line lost the food and come back to make new stuff. I am watching them make an identical order that is sitting at the FUCKING PHONE PICK UP WINDOW, that has a sign about as big and annoying as Caps Lock text. The cop comes up to the window and I lean down and say..."Did you...CALL your order in?" Cop, "Yes..." Me, "Oh. Well, It's here, right at the PHONE order counter." Cop, "Oh....oh, ok, thanks." Fucker. Not to talk shop all night, but to prove a point about how retarded cops can be, his friend called in an order, left work to walk over to get it, went back to the cop shop (I think they are at the jail to be honest), an hour later she calls complaining that her order was missing 1 ingredient essential to her dining experience. It was fucking crumbled chips. Again the owner's wife and sister answer and say they will handle it. The cop comes back to get the order remade because it was missing the chips. That's your tax dollars at work. Two phone calls, two trips to a restaurant, and two dinner breaks, over fucking chips. I hope she choked on one of them.

I was going to blog this in the wee hours of the morning, but I fell asleep and woke up to this rant about chips blaring in my face. So here goes.