Category: office

Be Happy You Don’t Have These Jobs! (4/23/18)

OUR WORLD:

Welcome to what is quickly becoming everyone’s favorite Monday tradition: the jimmyschair “At Least I Don’t Have To Do That”-Job list.

Animal Control Officer:  

You ever read those stories where someone comes home to discover an anaconda coming up through their toilet?  There is a person whose job it is to just “take care of that.”  What if that was your first call on a Monday morning?  Like you, Roberta AnimalControl got after it a little too much on Saturday night and is still trying to shake off the cobwebs 2 days later.  She picked up a fatty Dunkin’ Donuts sandwich in the drive-thru on the way to work because “fuck it, I’ll work out later this week” and she hurried to her desk by 9:01, but it’s okay because their boss was in the bathroom.  Roberta opens up her bacon, egg and chee like it’s a very-depressing Christmas morning and just as she’s about to take the first bite….RING!  “Hey Roberta, there’s a king cobra in a toilet at 934 Winchester Boulevard.  Caller says it’s hissing.”

And that’s just one horrible, but very real possibility for the start of an Animal Control Officer’s day.  Can you imagine the amount of sad stuff they see?  I don’t even want to write about it.  In fact, I won’t–Mondays are depressing enough that I don’t need to wade into the animal cruelty-waters.  Just know that it’s someone’s JOB to look at a dog fighting ring up-close and get the dogs out of there, but you know there are times when they got there too late and….JESUS CHRIST, STOP IT JIMMY!

In Chicago, the city started this program a few years ago where they released wild coyotes into the city to help with the rat problem.  THAT WAS NOT A JOKE.  Well now, even though there have been no reported coyote attacks on humans in the past 30 years (but what about the unreported attacks?  Hard to call 911 after a coyote bites you in the neck…) I’m sure Animal Control Chicago gets inundated with calls about coyotes.  I know I’ve seen a coyote from inside my apartment that was running away and was like 2 blocks down when I asked The VP “should I call Animal Control?”  It’s about safety!  So Animal Control people HAVE to go and check out these coyote calls now on a regular basis, and if you’re an office you’ve got to be thinking “we’re due for a coyote attack; is it going to be me?”  Chicago just isn’t going to go FOREVER without one of these coyotes mauling someone, so who’s most likely to break the streak? An animal control officer responding to a call from some nerd 2 blocks away.  And spare me any talk about “well, they’re trained for this stuff.”  You can’t train to protect yourself from a WILD ANIMAL ATTACK because they are WILD. ANIMALS.

Used Car Salesman:

I just think it would really suck to have to tell people that you’re a “used car salesman” when they ask what you do for a living.  It has such brutal connotations.  I work in sales, and even that isn’t my favorite thing to say, but when I’m trying to explain my job sometimes I’ll say “I mean, it’s not like I’m a used car salesman.”  It’s like if a mouse met another animal and had to be like “yeah, I’m a mouse, but it’s not like I’m a rat.”  And the thing with used car salesmen is they’re not ALL the awful stereotype (“god Jimmy, you’re so brave to speak truth to power”-Used Car Salesman Union Leader)

Whenever someone goes to buy a used car, they also think that they’re going to have to negotiate like it’s a hostage situation (“IF YOU INCLUDE THE HEATED SEATS, NO ONE WILL GET HURT!”)  Which means that every person a used car salesman meets at work is coming in with an edge; pre-disposed to NOT be friendly.  Well isn’t that fun!  I know there are used car salesmen who are kinda’ slimy and need to be pushed back on, but there have to ones who are also just like “yeah, I’m just here to pay my bills and get home.”  Like, there have to be ones that offer the customer their actual lowest price first…right?  Then they just have to sit there and keep telling the customer “I’m not lying, that really is the lowest we can offer you” as the customer gets madder and madder and SO FUCKING MAD, COME ON!!!!

Finally, how about when a used car salesman has to go to his girlfriend’s parents for the first time?  You KNOW the dad immediately HATES that his daughter is dating a used car salesman.  Even if that first dinner goes well, the Dad will probably say something to his wife like, “yeah, he was nice, but what does that even mean? He is a used car salesman.”  They’ll NEVER trust him because of that job title.  I’d imagine that most used car salesman are married to daughters of other used car salesman then.  If there’s a Farmers Only dating app, shouldn’t there be a Used Car Sales Only one too?

Personal Chef for a Celebrity and their Kids:

This is mostly on account of having to cook for rich kids.  I see on the boob tube (cool guy slang for television) that a lot of athletes and celebrities have their own personal chefs.  And while I enjoy cooking, I can’t imagine cooking a gourmet meal for a rich kid who UNDOUBTEDLY will not appreciate it the way they should.  Whenever I cook a meal that’s a little more complicated than “dump packet contents into hot water,” I basically stare daggers through The VP of Ops until she takes a bite.  And if the doesn’t take a bite within the first 14 seconds of me handing her, her plate? I may or may not (but definitely do) yell at her to “take a bite before it gets cold!”  She’ll usually take a bite and tell me it’s great, but sometimes she doesn’t do it in a convincing enough way, so I’ll be all pouty like “oh, sorry you don’t like it.”

Now, if that was a 9 year old who never heard the word “no”, you think they’d overwhelm the chef with gratitude?  A chef, mind you, who probably went through like 7 years of schooling only to then be hired by a violent French Master Chef whose preferred “teaching” method is burning his sous chefs with the creme brulee blowtorch.  After 4 years of dodging Chef Blowtorch and his outbursts, you’d open up your own restaurant in a part of town that was dying to be turned into the next hipster-ville…But, you and your restaurant came about two years too early and you end up closing your dream restaurant 18 months after opening.  To avoid bankruptcy, you call back that investor guy who told you he “had something for you.”  And, that “something” was a job cooking for some Jay Cutler Wannabe (aka an asshole athlete) and his shitty kids.

Next think you know, you’re spending 8 hours making pasta by hand for your most popular burrata lasagna.  The celeb kids are running around and yelling about why it’s taking so long and probably snacking on pop tarts.  When you’re finally finished, they look at it and say it looks “gross” and they’d prefer pizza.  And where are the parents? DOESN’T MATTER CUZ THEY DON’T CARE ANYWAY!  So you try to sneak the uneaten gourmet lasagna out to your car when you leave that night, but the cousin who lives there for free catches you and reminds you that the lasagna is now “property of this house”…so you have to turn around and put it back into the Cutler’s fridge, where it will sit uneaten until you throw it out in 4 days.

MY WORLD:

I can’t believe I haven’t done this yet, but I have to put together a candy list.  I went on a big candy kick this weekend that my pants DID NOT APPRECIATE this morning.  I’m including chocolate and sweet and salty.  Here’s the jimmyschair Top 10 Candy List.  Disagreements are discouraged…SO SAVE ‘EM!

10-Crunch Bar

9-Chocolate Covered Almonds

8-Twix

7-Kit Kat

6-Gummy Fruit Slices

5-Gummy Bears

4-Crispy M&Ms

3-York Peppermint Patties

2-Peanut M&Ms

1-Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups

*I will say the Top 3 rotate depending on mood and right now, Lil Jimmy loves some peanut butter and chocolate.

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Make fun all you want, but Death Cab is my fave band and I feel myself gearing up for a BIG Death Cab kick starting with this….NOW!

 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Getting your haircut for the first time in 5 months and having the hair washer lady mail in the scalp massage you’d been looking forward to.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Let’s bang that OKC Moneyline (+175) together because we’re all friends and betting against an angry Russ Westbrook seems MUCHO STUPIDO!

(My account currently at $192.22)

K bye.

Jobs Worse Than Yours and Hateable Celebs (4/16/18)

OUR WORLD:

It’s Monday and, guys, it’s only gonna get better.  Keep that in mind as you trudge your weekend-fat ass through the snow (yeah, it is snowing in Chicago) to work today because it can’t get worse than a bad weather Monday AND you have food poisoning (just me? I’m not really sure what food poisoning is, but anytime I have real bad stomach issues I think “must be poison.”  Could it be that I ate like a pig for the past 72 hours? Nah. Poison.)  By now, you should be making your own “At Least I Don’t Have To Do That”-Job List to help you get through Mondays like this.  If you haven’t, I’ll let you use mine:

-Mid to Low Level Drug Dealer:  This is NOT a chill job.  Can you imagine if selling drugs was what you had to do to pay your rent?  You would have to say things to yourself like “I didn’t sell a lot of drugs yesterday, so I probably shouldn’t buy this J.Crew shirt.”  And, unlike most sales-based  jobs, the days of super low sales probably wouldn’t even crack the Top 100 list of “Worst Days as a Drug Dealer”.  There would be at least 37 “time I got a gun pulled on me”-days, some “got a knock at my door at 3AM”-days, and, DEFINITELY, a few “the drug kingpin accused me of wearing a wire”-days.  Talk about NEVER being able to just coast though a workday.

And what are the good days like?  I know in the movies there’s like a big drop of drugs in the dark and like a fancy briefcase filled with cash, but that can’t happen for the mid to low-level drug dealer.  The lower level dealers don’t get the mansions and lambos and cool sunglasses; they get knock-off Oakleys and a Dodge Neon with an AC that doesn’t even work.  I guess a good day would be if they got promoted to deal drugs to rich people, but then the chances of going to jail for a long time go up too.  Promotions in the drug dealing world just mean that now, you have to do MORE serious crimes.  And you definitely can’t tell the Druglord Boss-guy that you don’t want the promotion.  You think Scarface is gonna be cool when you explain that the whole “transporting cocaine on boats in the night”-thing just isn’t what you had in mind when you started with the company?

If you do a bad job, the worst thing that can happen to you is getting fired or, maybe, scolded by your boss in a way so personal that you cry alone in your car later that night.  If a drug dealer does a bad job? Something WORSE THAN DEATH could happen…JAIL!  (Jail is worse than death times a billion.  I’ve talked about this in the past, but jail is my number one fear in life.)  With the constant fear of death/jail, is a drug dealer ever in a true state of relaxation?  Are there any days where they just watch Netflix for 11 hours and not freak out about a sound they just heard?  And don’t forget that there’s no getting out of this life.  Once you’re a drug dealer, there will always be people that are planning to do something bad to you and cops that remember not being able to catch you in the act.

-Prison Guard:  I got in an Uber last summer with a guy who told me that he just moved to Chicago to become a prison guard.  He voluntarily moved from Nevada to Chicago because he looked at a prison guard opening as a GOOD OPPORTUNITY.  Thank sweet baby Jesus that there are people like this guy, cuz I can’t believe the government doesn’t have to draft people into these types of positions.  Yes, socioeconomic factors greatly impact who views what as a “good opportunity”, I’m aware of this, but I’m also aware that discussion is heavy and serious and not appropriate for the FUN BLOG!  Carrying on…

To be a prison guard, you not only have to be big and scary, but also smart enough to anticipate problems arising from places you didn’t expect.  If you’re big and scary and smart then shouldn’t you be the head of like a steel-workers union?  I’m pretty sure those are the qualifications to head a blue collar union: big, scary, smart.  But no, you’d pass up the opportunity to shake calloused, meaty hands to break up fights over why the head of the Aryan Brotherhood got an extra milk?  (The Uber-driver/prision guard told me that most of the fights he dealt with in his Nevada prison were over milk and juice.)

I’m sure there are days without fights where maybe you’d connect on a personal level with one of the inmates.  Maybe you could help Larry deal with the misery of being behind bars and watch as he evolved into the person his parents always told him he wouldn’t be.  You’d talk about meeting up “outside of these damn bars” one day, and complain to your wife about how corrupt the judicial system is.  And then that one day would happen, and you’d go meet to meet Larry at the Outback in the nice mall.  Larry would smile when he saw you waiting for him at the table, and walk over slowly while shaking his head in disbelief that he was able to survive incarceration.  Before you ordered, though, your wife would send you a text saying that she “can’t keep worrying about your safety all day, everyday”.  Larry thinks your wife’s worries are a sign of a sweet relationship, but you didn’t tell Larry about the following text where your wife admitted that she had “met someone.”  So now you’re having dinner with an ex-con who required the attention that it would have taken to save your marriage…and your steak is overcooked because you’re at a fucking Outback inside of a mall.

-Hair washer at a salon:  As a resident fancy-boy, I get my hair cut at salons as opposed to a barbershop.  Everyone knows that the best part of getting your hair cut at a salon is when they wash your hair and give you a head massage.  If you don’t make purring sounds while they’re doing this, you’re probably offending the hair washer.  You’ll try to remember the head massage tactics they used so you can attempt to recreate it on yourself during your next shower, but it won’t be the same.  When the hair washer is done, though, think about how you’re probably the least gross person they’re going to have to deal with that day.  (Real talk, if you’re reading this blog, you’re not gross.  Welcome to the not-gross club.)

People have weird heads and nasty hair and gnarly things on their scalp.  These hair washers can’t refuse to wash the head of some dude who hasn’t showered in a week and has a BAD case of scalp acne.  I think they can wear surgical gloves, but what about the days when they didn’t realize they were low on those gloves and now they’re all out?  I also think that LEGIT hair washers look down on the ones who wear gloves; like, they’re not dedicated enough and probably aren’t spoken to at the Hair Washer Happy Hours.

You ever go to get your haircut after wearing a hat all day?  How bad do you feel?  Like, MUCHO BAD, right?  Well, that’s because you’re a normal human being.  Unfortunately, there’s another kind of human being out there that thinks subjecting a hair washer to that is “not my problem.”  AND! The hair washer doesn’t get tipped.  What the hell is that all about?  I’m guessing they get tipped out by the stylist (term for hair cutter person at hot salons), but it probably isn’t NEARLY enough.  I contend that it’s way harder to give a good head massage than give a good haircut.  Listen, you can learn how to cut bangs.  You can’t learn how to have magic hands.  Now that I think about it, next time I go to get my haircut, I’m going to tip the hair washer person more than my stylist AND I’m gonna make sure the stylist sees it.  I’m sure the stylist will be annoyed, but then remember that she doesn’t have to accidentally pop strangers’ head pimples for the rest of the day and go back to being thankful that she’s not a hair washer.

MY WORLD:

Do you love or hate some celebrities for no discernible reason?  ME TOO!  It usually comes down to their face, which is scary to think about because I’m sure strangers have walked past me and hated me just because of my face (my mom VEHEMENTLY disagrees with this btw).  So what celebrities do I hate for no discernible reason (but maybe it’s just their face)?  Here’s what I’ve got:

-Michael Strahan

-Josh Gad

-Nick Kroll

-Angelina Jolie

-Helena Bonham Carter

I started writing some more fleshed out reasoning behind hating these celebs, but…I really think it’s just their face.  So let’s leave it at that.  This is such an internet-y thing to do, but everyone has these thoughts…right?  RIGHT?!?!

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I went to High School with Beck Bennett (SNL star, no big deal, he probably has no idea who I am but whatevs) and this was from his college comedy group.

 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Snow.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

This was a surprisingly even weekend…which is a win in gambling terms.  “Even” = “Lost a little” = “Didn’t lose a lot” = “Win”.  Get it?  Anyway, I put some sweet cash on an NBA playoff parlay where I picked all the favorites to win their first round series (Rockets, Warriors, Thunder, Blazers, Cavs, Raptors, Celtics, and Sixers).  If that parlay hits, which I really can’t see why it wouldn’t, it pays out at over +660 so…I’m about to be super rich again.  ALSO!  We’ve discovered that one of my friends is a savant at NHL Playoff gambling.  He went like 6 for 7 this weekend and has earned the nickname ‘Chel Jim.  Love ‘Chel Jim.  Aside from rooting for NBA favorites tonight, I’ll be patiently waiting for ‘Chel Jim to text me his NHL picks.

(My account currently at $219.55)

K bye.

Best Drink of the Week and Travel Talk (4/12/18)

OUR WORLD:

My friends and I had a discussion a couple weeks back where we tried to rank the best drinks of the week.  Keep in mind, this is not a ranking of the best drinks of your life, like after some crowing achievement or overcoming some adversity, simply the best drinks of a normal boring-ass week.  While my friends, nicknamed “Thunder” and “Cash Out”, had differing opinions (that I don’t remember because we were on martini numero tres at this point in the night), I believe that the following list is THE definitive drink of the week ranking….er, list….YOU GET IT!

I’m gonna count down from 5 to 1 because I’m a storyteller who likes to build suspense…

5)  Tuesday night, at about 6:41 P.M., the Double IPA you drink as you prepare dinner.  Your Monday nightmare is but a distant memory now, and having made it through Tuesday as well means that you’re back in your weekly routine.  Tuesday was a long day, but you’re in full-on “weekday work-mode” now, so it’s okay.  You got off work, went to the gym and took an extra long run because the Monday workout was more about ridding weekend toxins, than actually improving your health.  Tuesday at the gym is about proving to yourself that you’re not the fat piece of shit that your thighs say you are (sitting in a car while wearing jeans that just came out of the drier puts me under the deepest of deep depressions when I look down at my thighs and pray that they don’t burst through my pants.  I swear I could hear my thighs screaming for help.)  So you ran far enough to sweat through your dirty hat, and you got home in time to make a meal that takes just long enough to enjoy every little sip of the Double IPA that you so rightly earned on the treadmill.  It’ll be your only beer of the night because it’s high ABV, but you’ll savor every. single. sip.

4)  Sunday morning, at about 10:24 A.M., the Bloody Mary you drink at your favorite comfort-food brunch spot.  Sunday mornings can be rough, and this is no exception.  You stayed out too late the night before and snuck a cigarette with your friend who smokes when your spouse was busy making fun of you behind your back (or, in my case, you vaped like an absolute fiend because you’ve convinced yourself that vaping is kinda healthy…)  Your mouth tastes like desert garbage and all you really want to do is curl up in sweatpants and wait for the Sunday night depression to hit.  BUT! You told your kinda-friends two weeks ago that you’d meet for brunch, so you have to shower and wear a shirt that doesn’t have late-night salsa stains on it.  Your spouse asks if there’s any Advil left.  There is, but there’s only 2 and you’re holding the bottle so you lie and say “no”…then close your bathroom door and pour the last 2 into your hand slow enough that it doesn’t make that bottle-rattle sound and blow your cover.  The walk or uber to brunch is all about convincing yourself that you’re “not actually that hungover,” but you are.  The Bloody Mary at this place has some fun cheese and meat things that come in it, but you’re kinda scared to order it because alcohol is the devil.  You order it, though, because you’re not a NARC and it IS the weekend.  You’ll really really enjoy the first half of it as it washes over your hangover and brings you back to the “kinda loopy and feeling not hungover”-phase of being drunk.  It’s the last truly enjoyable buzz of the weekend because nighttime is far enough away that you can pretend it’s not coming.

3)  Saturday late-afternoon, at about 4:17 P.M., the I.P.A. you have to set the base for the rest of your AGGRESSIVE night.  (I’m realizing that there are people reading this who have kids and, I just want to say that I’m sorry that I’m still in the aggressive Saturday night drinking phase of my life.  Am I ashamed of it? Slightly.  But, by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, I’m so excited about going out that I tuck the shame away in my “I’ll deal with this on Monday”-dresser drawer.)  Plan is to meet up with friends at a shitty-in-a-good-way bar a little after 5. You’re ready and your spouse is in the shower, so it’s time to put on some sporting event you don’t really care about and to properly enjoy a good beer before you dive into the “get me whatever you’re getting” bar orders for the rest of the night.  Now is the time to use your favorite, most beer-snobby, fancy beer glass.  Be sure to pour it slow and make sex noises after your first sip; this is the last time that you’ll be truly enjoying the taste of what you’re drinking for the rest of the night.  This beer will also be a quick topic of conversation early on in the night, when you try to prove to your friends that you have taste by talking about a beer they’ve never heard of.

2)  Friday lunch, at about 12:21 P.M., the margarita you get with your co-workers at the Mexican restaurant by your office.  The morning meetings are over, and you still have to send a few e-mails out, but you’ve effectively made it to the weekend.  It’s time for chips and salsa and marg(s) (stick to one marg, guys…once you go for the second in front of co-workers, you’re known as THAT lunch-drunk-guy).  Bitching about the job is ALWAYS the topic, and this is the most acceptable time and place for it.  Get all the bitching out now because your spouse has heard ENOUGH throughout the week, and if you bring more of that shit into the weekend SHE’S GONNA LOSE IT!  (Can we make a cool looking medallion that says “No Work Talk” that we all wear around our necks from Friday night through Sunday night?  Feels like a piece of jewelry a hipster would wear and not admit that they got it at Urban Outfitters…”Urban Outfitters? No, I only shop at thrift stores.”)  Get ready for a lot of deep exhales and “we made it to Friday”-headshakes.  They’re gonna feel good and earned and your co-workers are gonna nod at you overtime you do one because they know…they know…

1)  Thursday night, when you’re alone at about 7:02 P.M., the martini that you carefully measure out and make like you’re a bartender whose rent depends on the tip you’ll get from this one drink.  This is a special time that was great when you were single and now only happens when your spouse is out of town or out for the night at a work event.  Does it mean you don’t love your significant other? I mean, maybe…like, why are you with them?  (To the 4 people reading this who are in bad relationships, now is when you look at yourself in the mirror and think about sad stuff…we’ll wait…)  You’re not in a relationship crisis, but getting to celebrate heading into Friday by crafting a nice cocktail by yourself is simply exhilarating.  There is no need for you to put music on or anything while you do this; the sound of almost-Friday silence is melodic and able to perfectly harmonize with the sounds your shaker makes while chilling your gin martini or old fashioned or some other drink they serve at the restaurant you only go to on your birthday.  If you have a dog, they’ll come over and you’ll say something to them like “we did it.”  Do you normally take pictures of your meal when you go out to eat?  Of course not, those people don’t read this blog.  But, maybe you take a picture of this drink you just made.  You don’t need to send it out, but there should be a record of it somewhere.  Next time you do this, toss a 5 dollar bill on your kitchen counter because you deserve a tip.

*In case insurance people or doctors or my in-laws read this, I would like to state that this is a hypothetical week and does not mean that I imbibe in all of these drinks every week…not, every week…IT’S HYPOTHETICAL!  THAT MEANS, LIKE, NOT TOTALLY REAL-LIFE!

MY WORLD:

*Every once in a while, I’m going to need to throw a George Costanza-style rant your way.  Today is one of those days.  Please indulge the following:

The VP and I had the new “Jersey Shore” show on in the background while she cooked dinner and I looked at my phone like a slob last night.  We weren’t really watching, except to comment about JWoww’s newly-mangled face (wrinkles are better than plastic surgery-face) and The Situation being sober and…why is he on the show, then? Anyway, during the show or maybe in a commercial or something (I was busy being an instagram slob, guys!) I heard someone say, “you know, you should really travel more.”  What an obnoxious thing to say.

When I heard it, I walked into the kitchen to rant at The VP about how mad it made me.  Is there anyone ALIVE who thinks to themselves “I’m glad I don’t travel”?  You know what? “I’ve got the next twelve years off and a ton of zeroes in my bank account, but this couch is pretty comfy and I love not knowing anything about life outside this country!”  The reason people don’t travel more is because…hmmm….let’s put on our detective hats…oh wait, it’s BECAUSE TRAVELING IS EXPENSIVE!  Would you ever tell someone “you know, you should really make more money”?  NO, because you’re not trying to set the world record for being-an-asshole.  Aside from the ludicrous content of this message, it’s always made worse because the person saying it is thinking they’re some Advice God selflessly gifting wisdom on the uncultured alley rats of society.  Get da fuck outta’ here with that shit!

I wish I could say that made me feel better, but I’m still mad that people think saying “you should travel more” is not only acceptable, but needed advice.  GOD THAT MAKES ME SO MAD!

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Uh oh, is Jimmy suggesting a song that hipsters might like?  Giddy up!  This is a perfect song to listen to when you’re getting stressed out and wondering if it’s time to cry alone in your car.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

BuzzFeed can go straight to hell.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Good thing I didn’t listen to my advice and bet on Milwaukee over Philly last night.  Philly won by seven billion points, if you missed it.  It’s time for me to huddle with my crew and figure out NBA playoff futures.  At first glance, I don’t hate Cleveland getting +650 to win the title.  However, that means I’d have to root for LeBron and that sounds awful to me…The East stinks, though, and once they’re in the ‘ship you never know what kind of injuries Houston or Golden State could be dealing with.  Who’s gonna talk me out of this?

(My account currently at $256.83)

K bye.

At Least You Don’t Have That Job and Bad Purchases (4-2-18)

 

OUR WORLD:

Boy am I excited that it’s Monday AND it’s absolutely freezing outside!  This is the best!  LIFE IS MEANT TO BE LIVED!!!!  If you happen to see me before 9AM this morning, do yourself and walk the other way because NOT TODAY!  On days when I catch myself being extra bitchy and pouty (oh, so everyday Jimmy?) I’ll try to come up with people that have it worse than me.  In all honesty, my job is like 87% good stuff and the rest isn’t stuff that is worth bitching about the way the rest of the working world gets to (but I wanna pout too!!!!  Also, maybe I said that so co-workers don’t give me a side-eye, like “so…if working here is so bad maybe you should just quit!”  jk guys lol omg ttyl!)  REGARDLESS!  Some Mondays I find myself running through what jobs have it way worse than I ever had and, hopefully, ever will have.  If you’re having an especially rough Monday, roll through this list and I think you’ll begin to feel thankful.  Let’s call these the “At Least I Don’t Have To Do That”-Job List…(if you happen to work one of the following jobs then may God have mercy on your soul.)  

–Anything having to do with outdoor construction:  Aside from the 6 days of the year that are in the perfect temperature range, construction workers have to either be freezing or hotter than hell.  Aside from that, they have to wear the big heavy boots FOR SAFETY!  They have to wear hardhats that would def mess with your hairline, and the bending and lifting and digging and hammering and what if you slip?  If you’re a full-time construction person, you definitely have a story about slipping and “that’s why my hand doesn’t really work anymore.”  Aside from the actual work itself, keep in mind that the general public is FUCKING annoyed with construction sites because they’re loud, hold up traffic and “like, is it EVER gonna be done?!”  How many angry drivers do you think these people have to deal with per day?  If you’re working road construction, there have to be at least 8 times a day where some douche in a foreign car lays on his horn because construction has created a traffic jam.  Does the horn help ease the jam?  Of course not, but Mr. Audi Douche would like everyone to know that he HAS A FUCKING MEETING!

The combo of backbreaking work and a generally ungrateful audience is a ROUGH work environment.  The only upside is getting to eat whatever you want because you just worked so hard.  Like, if I’m jackhammering a sidewalk for five hours (that’s a thing they do, right) you better believe I’m not gonna worry about how many carbs are in the BIG sandwich from Potbelly.  You’re getting that big cuz you earned the ever loving shit out of that big.  So that’s nice…but then it’s back to the heat and hard manual labor and, you know what guys? I quit.  I just can’t.

-Starbucks Barista:  You are immediately SLAMMED busy earlier than the entire world on Monday morning dealing with Monday people who have yet to have their coffee.  Seriously, how have their not been more Monday morning Starbucks shootings?  Having worked in a restaurant that had a cappuccino machine (whatever, yeah…it’s, not even a big deal) I know first hand that making those foofy coffee drinks is a BITCH.  Thankfully, I only had to make like one per 6 hour shift.  These Starbucks people have to make like a bajillion all the while an angry pre-coffee mob is waiting off to the side wondering why the fuck their mocha gabba jabba is taking more than one second to make!  You think your job has pressure?!?! GET REAL BROTHA!

Also, how many times have you been behind that person at Starbucks who seems to be trying to invent their own personal drink?  Like, there’s no way Starbucks has a “virgin, half caf, pseudo-mocha, almond butter infused cafe ole easy foam heavy bubbles”…AND THEN THEY DO HAVE THAT THING!  But, the person who ordered it isn’t even impressed!  Instead, they just go back to their fucking bluetooth phone convo and you just wanna be like “aren’t you AMAZED with that barista?!?!”  But they’re not.  Nope, the barista will carry on like the Van Gogh of coffee drink makers and Barry Bluetooth won’t even think about dropping a buck in the tip jar.  If I were the barista?  I’d just make everyone a black coffee and then shrug my shoulders and say NOTHING when they’d complain.

-Meter Maids:  I always always always think about what a meter maid says to his/her spouse when they get back home and are asked how their day was.  Is there ever a good day to be a meter maid?  Hand up, I am SUPER mean to these people and I don’t even feel that bad about it cuz I’ve become a master of justifying it (I have effectively convinced myself that the only people that could work this job are people that legitimately enjoy ruining people’s days.)  When I have a little distance from it though, they are definitely working that job because it pays the bills and they’re just doing their best.  Talk about a thankless job.  A Meter Maid has never heard someone say “good job!”  I bet even their bosses are just pissed they didn’t assign more tickets.

I would love to be at a table next to a bunch of meter maids at a happy hour.  Can you imagine the “this is why my job sucks”-stories that they get to share with each other?  All day, everyday they are dealing with people who just missed moving their car by 4 minutes.  Oh! And, they have to be outside all day in a uniform which mucho stinks.  Please, don’t tell me about how it would be “nice to be outside” in the summer.  Why do you think air conditioning was invented?  Because being outside is nice for a minute and then “it’s actually kinda’ hot.”  PASS!

As I’ve written this, my big huge beautiful brain has been flooded with other jobs that would be mucho stinko so….guess what guys?!?! I’m gonna make this a jimmyschair Monday staple.  From here on out, FOR THE REST OF TIME! The Monday edition of jimmyschair will include a list of “At Least I Don’t Have To Do That”-jobs.  I’m excited.

MY WORLD:

I spent too much money at the bar on Saturday night.  I opened up a tab, turned into JimmyGoodTimes and, quickly, morphed into JimmyIGotThis for the proceeding 4 hours. Closing my tab included the “it’ll be okay” self-talk followed by hating myself all day yesterday, with a few “it’s just money, Jimmy” mixed in to try to calm myself.  It wasn’t THAT bad (I’m a pouty baby, remember?) but, like, DAMNIT JIMMY!  Much the way I do with other jobs on Monday mornings, I tried to remember back to a worse purchase that I have made, in an effort to make myself feel better.  That’s when I remembered…I bought a recliner from Costco when I was in high school.

I worked at a golf course in the summers during high school, and since I was too scared to make any actual friends, I turned my bedroom in an ultimate hang-zone (you talkin’ ’bout a Hangzone 5000?  Yeah guys, I am.)  I bought a mini-fridge, a big tv, XBox and…all I needed was a big comfy chair.  My bedroom was small and my parents definitely had caught on to my blossoming loner-den, but I lied to them about all the friends I had so, I SAID I’M FINE MOM!

Anyway, Costco had a put-it-together-yourself massaging recliner for like $400.  I told my dad that I was going to get it and he rolled his eyes so hard he def saw his brain.  Look, I was a stressed out lil baby and NEED MASSAGES DAD!  GAH!  My bedroom was 1,000,000,000,000% too small for this chair, but I was determined to be comfy at all times instead those four walls.  So I saved up for weeks and bought the friggin chair.  It took me FOREVER to put together and would slam into my dresser every time I leaned back.  The “massaging” felt and sounded more like loose pebbles being thrown at my back a little too hard, and the plug sparked whenever I put it in the wall outlet.  Did someone order a fire hazard?

Whenever my dad would walk past my room, I would sit in the chair and make purring noises because I was very weird and thought that would make him jealous that he didn’t have such a chair.  He was never jealous.  Disappointed? Absolutely.  Jealous? That’s gonna be a “no”.  After a few weeks of pretending to be comfortable in a not-comfortable-at-all-massaging-recliner, I dug the box out of the garage, dismantled the chair, and returned it to Costco.  They gave me all my money back and….WAIT!

That didn’t work at all.  Now I don’t feel better about my weekend bar spend because I can’t throw the 19 Tecates I had in a box and return them to the bar.   Great.  Well, I hope you enjoyed my exercise in not-making-myself-feel-better.  GODDAMNIT!

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

This scene came up at our Easter dinner and we all laughed like maniacs.  Enjoy:

 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When you open up your refrigerator on Monday morning and see all the Easter candy you stole from your parents house is sitting right in front of your dumb, fat face but you can’t have any cuz it’s Monday morning and you were gonna get back to eating healthy this week.  Thissss isssss jusssssssst GREAT!

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

I’m not gonna lie to you guys.  I know that I bet on Kansas and Michigan this weekend.  I also know that JimmyGoodTimes made quick friends with JimmyGambles and, next thing I know, I had like a billion little bets going on the two final four games this weekend.  What were they? I absolutely do not remember and, no, I will not check my betting history to see what they were.  All’s I know is that I only lost like $9 which is less than $10, so I’m basically even.  I’LL TAKE IT!  Tonight? I’m probably gonna bet on Michigan because my friend went there, but my brain thinks Villanova is gonna chop Michigan’s head off.

(My account currently at $64.82)

K bye.

Restaurant Rules and Nightmares Pt.1

OUR WORLD:

I had a server nightmare last night (I think…I may not have because I super suck at remembering my dreams), but it got me thinking about back to my days working in restaurants.  Probably because I hated working in restaurants, but there were like A BILLION things that customers did that annoyed me.  Now that I’m just a Normal Joe who doesn’t work in restaurants anymore (aside from an occasional serving shift I have to beg my old boss for when my gambling losses become an ISSUE) I have noticed that there are like A BILLION things that restaurant workers do that annoy me.  IT’S LIKE THE WHOLE UNIVERSE IS AGAINST ME!!! (maybe my favorite George Constanza line that my Dad and I throw back and forth at each other anytime any tiny thing annoys us.)

costanza

Having worked in restaurants and now….uh, not….I would like to help ALL OF US (we’re a community!) by spelling out “What Not To Do” for both customers AND restaurant workers.  I will do the ones for customers today and the ones for restaurant workers tomorrow (Tease ’em like a pro, Jimmy!)  My hope is that each side will begin to understand the other and we can rid the  restaurant world of the passive aggressiveness and the “you’re not going to believe what table 7 just did” that currently plagues the world’s restaurant scene.  Let’s start with the customers…

“WHAT NOT TO DO” FOR RESTAURANT CUSTOMERS

–When your server gets to your table, don’t play finger-drums on the table and ask “so whaddya’ got?”

Whether this place is busy or hasn’t had a customer since you were born, the server will immediately go into a silent, rage filled, forced smile while holding back EVERY SINGLE FIBER OF THEIR BEING from pointing at the menu and saying something along the lines of “READ, MOTHERFUCKER!”  Nearing the end of my time as a server, I would give SUPER snarky responses when asked this question.  I was lucky a customer never punched me for responding “that’s what menus are for”, but come on, that is an asinine and NOT FUNNY question.  That’s the thing I never understood as a server; Someone would do the finger-drums/”whaddya’ got?” routine and look around their table like they’re expecting Richard Pryor-in-his-prime-laughs.  What’s funny about basically asking a stranger to read for you?  The amount of tired/lame/jesus-just-shut-the-fuck-up jokes that servers have to hear is insane, so do them a favor and keep this lame not-joke to yourself.  Every living being in the history of the universe has something better to do than hear this routine.

-Don’t be the first or last customer of the day.

This one doesn’t make total logical sense, but I am writing this to help customers.  Obviously, if there was NEVER a “first customer of the day,” there would be no customers and no money for the servers and the servers would all be evicted for not being able to pay rent and then have to live under bridges with VERMIN!  That being said, every server hates their first and last customers of the day.  I remember setting up in the morning, watching someone approach the doors right as the clock struck 11:30AM and saying to myself “Jesus, they have to get here THE SECOND we open?!?!”  It’s an assholey thing to think and say, but all servers feel this way.  It’s almost like, all servers don’t want to be serving, so if no one ever shows up they don’t have to face the harsh reality that they’re still working a job they don’t want to be working.  (That’s DEFINITELY how I was/am/will always be.)  

As far as being the last customer of the day, there is one caveat, it only applies to when being the last customer before the restaurant closes.  If you’re a server’s last customer at the end of their lunch shift, they’ll really like you as long as you don’t linger when paying the bill.  However, if you’re the person who walks in 8 minutes before closing and asks “are we too late?” everyone that works there hates you.  They won’t be able to tell you that it’s too late because there’ll be one boss/owner who actually tries hard at their job, so they’ll probably force a smile and say something like “not too late…excuse me while I take a quick rest on the train tracks though!”

-Don’t eat your entire meal and then call a server over to offer “constructive criticism” about the dish.

This is a quick way to make your server feel bad.  You said nothing throughout the entire meal, then want to tell them how disappointed you are when it’s too late for them to do anything?  If your steak was “too salty”, then why did you eat it and lick your plate?  Do you know how uncomfortable it is for a server to approach a chef about something being wrong with a dish?  IT’S THE WORST!  Now, if there’s like a nail in a hamburger, sure you can say something like “Hey Chef, maybe next time, don’t put nails in the hamburgers.”  But, if a table has eaten EVERYTHING on the plate, uh…not going to the chef.  “Hey Chef, they ate everything but wanted me to relay some constructive criticism to you because, even though they fuck up cooking boxed macaroni at home, they eat.”  Not happening.  If you have a legit issue with your food, bring it up EARLY.  If you finish your plate, nobody cares about your “tips” on how to make it better.

-Don’t insinuate that you know the owner.

You’re not fooling anyone when you ask “is ‘Owner’s name’ here tonight?” We all know that you don’t actually care to say hi to the owner, but that you’re really just letting the staff know that you’ve met their boss before.  Ugh, douche alert sirens BLARE when someone asks this.  If the owner IS in the restaurant, and approaches YOU, then fine, you’re gonna get fantastic service for fear of pissing off a boss.  The truth is, the only people that openly insinuate that they “know the owner” are assholes who tilt their head and give no-teeth smiles when they send back ANOTHER drink!  Next time, instead of asking if the owner is there, just stand up on a table with a bullhorn and announce to the entire restaurant “I plan on being condescending to my server tonight!”

-Give Yelp! a rest.

Restaurant workers hate Yelp! the way you hate the “things to work on” section of your employee review.  Imagine if that section was then put on a public website!  Do servers/restaurants do things that they deserve to get shit on for? Of course, but most of the time, the people that write on Yelp! didn’t say anything when they were actually in the restaurant.  Typically, they rile themselves up about what happened on the ride home (I can’t believe that server only gave me one extra lemon when I asked for extra lemonS!  THE ‘S’ MEANS PLURAL YOU FUCKING SONOFABITCH!) and then decide that their imagination requires a public forum (Jimmy, that’s exactly what you’re doing right now with this blog…and now my brain hurts).  The thing that stinks most about Yelp!, aside from having to type out the exclamation point every time I write ‘Yelp!’, is that most people take it as gospel.  Sometimes, servers are just having a bad day and…just relax about it.  When I started dating the VP of Ops my biggest issue with her was how much she relied on Yelp! when picking a restaurant.  Now, she likes the pictures more than the reviews (reading is not her strong suit…What?!?! Have you seen her degree?!?! Me neither!!!) but it felt like she was validating every tattle tale who couldn’t wait to run home and type their Yelp! review.  Also, real quick, a very good friend of mine once revealed to me that he was one of Yelp’s “Elite Reviewers” because he wrote so many reviews.  He was bragging about all the perks that came from Yelp! for doing this: restaurant deals, free meals at new restaurants, etc.  I haven’t looked at this “very good friend” the same since.  In fact, I would like to officially reduce him from “very good friend” to “friend”.  You know who you are.

MY WORLD:

Quick story about my worst day as a restaurant worker.  I was managing (natural leader stuff) a mom-and-pop restaurant in the suburbs that would get REAL busy, especially in the summer because our outdoor section was dopeshow 10,000.  This night, we were SLAMMED both inside and out, with a bunch of people waiting for a table to open up.   Servers were sweating from having to hustle, the kitchen crew was sweating because it was hot in there and most of them were overweight, and I wasn’t sweating that much cuz I’m not a sweaty guy but…THIS NIGHT WAS A SWEAT!

In the middle of this very tense steamroom, when it’s all a blur of “sir, your table should be ready any minute” and “Sharon, can you scream at table 9 to get up?!?!”, an older gentlemen asked me where the bathroom was.  Now, keep in mind that the inside of this restaurant was like 10 square feet.  Tiny place with the kitchen obviously on one side so…the bathroom could ONLY be on the other side.  I pointed him in the direction and he scurried away.  He had a mean face…and I’m telling you that because it’s true and you need to know that before getting really sad.

Next thing I know, one of our servers flares her nostrils and points down at the ground in a panic.  Another server said something like “is that a meatball?” and, oh dear god no, there was a big-meatball-sized shit on the ground.  Old guy didn’t make it…(I know, you’re feeling bad for him right now and I understand that.  Don’t get too sad yet, it evens out….)  Being the manager, I had no choice.  I wasn’t going to make the busboy making bullshit money do this…and the servers had already sprinted into the kitchen away from the meatball-poo.  I flew to the back, got the broom and dust pan, swept the dumperoo up, sprinted back to the alley and threw ALL OF THAT OUT.  Then whipped back inside, to spray and scrub human shit out of the carpet on my hands and knees.  The smell was real, but there was no time to waste and making a big deal out of it would’ve freaked everyone out even more…so I acted like it wasn’t a big deal.  It was.

As I scrubbed away on all fours like I was trying to cleanse every last carpet fiber that was bombed, the old man and his son stepped over me.  They literally lifted their legs to step over me the way you step over your sleeping dog on the way to the couch.  They then returned to their table outside to finish their meals LIKE NOTHING EVER HAPPENED.  I get that old people accidents happen and aren’t funny, but as the son, wouldn’t you have gone in to say something like “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, how can I help?” to me?  NO?!?! NOTHING?!?! AM I ON PLANET BULLSHIT!?!?!

The family literally said nothing to me and they came in and out of the restaurant a few more times.  Thankfully, they didn’t leave any other presents for our carpet on these trips, but how do you walk past someone who just scrubbed up your grandpa’s shit without so much as a “fuck-I’m-embarassed” look?  It was almost like this was par for the course for them.  “Hey guys, here’s the plan for tonight: let’s go to dinner, order apps and drinks, ignore when Grandpa dumps in the middle of the busy restaurant, and then get dessert and go back to laughing!”

I used to smoke cigarettes in these days and I remember the cigarette I lit up after that shift was the most-deserved cig in my lifetime.

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Emma Gonzalez.  I know this is out of left field and kinda’, maybe too political for the type of stuff I normally write, but Emma is all sorts of badass.  I think it’s really easy to label High School students as dumb, because you were dumb in High School (I’m including me in this.  I was very very dumb and very very afraid of everything in High School) but this badass is not dumb and not afraid.  Or, if she is afraid, she’s tough enough to overcome that fear to say make super poignant points that require bravery to say.  I am incredibly impressed by Emma and I really like telling people that.

Emma Gonzalez

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

This is how our sink looks every morning after The VP of Ops “brushes” her teeth.  I legitimately don’t think she was ever taught how to properly apply toothpaste to her toothbrush.

Toothpaste.jpg

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Didn’t gamble last night because I’m a strong man who has will power and gambling is not a problem for me so please stop asking me if I think I may “have a problem.”  Thank you.

(My account currently at $102.61)

K bye.

Bad Boy Stuff and Weekend Warnings (3/23/18)

MY WORLD:

I got caught trying to sneak into a gym yesterday.  You see, sometimes when I have a work event at night, I’ll find a gym in the town of my event to get a good PUMP (treadmill run) in before.  Being the Frugal Fred that I am (cheapass), I have found a couple of “community fitness centers” that don’t have the most attentive front-desk staff.

The particular spot I went in yesterday, I had been to multiple times over the past year.  Normally, there’s an old guy at the front desk not paying attention.  So, instead of paying the $11 one-day fee, I walk like a BAWSS straight past the front desk and into the locker room.  The old guy probably just doesn’t care enough to stop me, but I’ve convinced myself that he admires a man who walks with purpose.  That’s me!  A man who walks with purpose…so he doesn’t have to pay $11.

Yesterday, however, there was a young girl at the front desk.  No matter, my BAWSS walk (Rick Ross voice BAWSS!) would dissuade her from stopping me.  Deep breath, long, border-line angry strides and I’m fre—“Excuse me, sir!”  Can’t be talking to me….”SIR! EXCUSE ME?!”  (cue my “uh-oh” face).  I turned around like she had just snapped me out of a dream.  “Oh, yeah? Hey?”

“Can I scan you in?”

“Oh…uh….I mean…”

This is where I pretended that my parents had just moved to the suburb and they had “told me I could work out here.”  Unfortunately, she then asked for my parents names and address.  (Just cut the lies, Jimmy!  Come clean! Now! Come clean!)  And because I’m really smart and quick on my feet, I told this TRYHARD BITCH (I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean that) that my I didn’t know their address because they just moved and “my memory is just blegh!”, and that my Dad’s name is Jim Pomerantz.

As she typed “Jim Pomerantz” into her local government issued supercomputer and asked for my ID, I remembered that the first time I went to this gym, I did sign in as a guest and gave my name as “Jim”.  That’s when she asked, with a furrowed brow, “have you been here before?”  I was caught.  But, guess what? I JUST KEPT LYING.

“No.”

“Hmm, cuz we have your name and address in here as having signed in as a guest before.”

“Not me.  That’s weird.”  I actually said that guys!  Like, someone with my EXACT NAME AND ADDRESS HAD ALSO SIGNED INTO THIS COMMUNITY GYM AS A GUEST ONE TIME!!!! If that doesn’t make you laugh, then I give up forever.

I ended up paying the guest fee and dominating a treadmill.  On my way out, instead of tucking my tail between my legs, I gave that TRYHARD BITCH! (sorry) a hearty “Thank You!”  She did not respond and I’m pretty sure my picture is up in their employee lounge now.

OUR WORLD:

Guys, it’s Friday!  Oh my goodness gracious we made it!  WE MADE IT GUYS!  As we gear up for what’s definitely going to be an all-timer of a weekend (is it? I don’t know.  Who cares?) I wanted to point something out that needs to be pointed out…movies lie to us.  But Jimmy, why would you bring that up today? Of all days? I’ll tell you why my sweet babies, because the weekends are when we act most like how we see people act in the movies.

You’ve been pent up at your jobs and in your houses (you don’t have a house, Jimmy.  An apartment counts!  Well then say apartment…) all week watching movies and shows when you have any free time, so your brain is ready to talk you into acting like that dude with the good hair.  Weekends are when you at least begin contemplating how you are “going to make a change!” Before you do so, I implore you to consult the following list of things that movies tell you to do, that you should NOT do:

-Don’t tell your crush, who already has a bf/gf/husband/wife, that you are in love with them.  This applies mostly to the single, under-27 crowd, but I extended it to the real dedicated “lets fuck a life up”-crew who are contemplating ruining a marriage to have their movie moment.  There were definitely a few times when I was single and under-27 that I was POSITIVE that my crush was just waiting for me to make some touching speech in the rain to break up with her boyfriend. Thankfully, I was always a bonified (more like ‘bonerfied’ lol omg) wuss in these situations and never went through with it (I can’t believe they never noticed me sulking near them in the bar.)  

What would actually happen if you went through on this kamikaze mission? The person you are confessing your feelings to will look at you like you’re an alien.  Like “uh, dude how many times did you watch The Notebook this week?” (I’M SORRY, I DIDN’T KNOW THERE WAS A LIMIT!!!)  They’ll probably start laughing early on in your “remember when you gave me that look”-speech, and possibly call their friends over to catch a glimpse of this death spiral.  (Holy shit girls! Dan’s doing his Notebook speech!  Get over here!)    It’ll be too late for you to pull the “just kidding” card, so you’re going to prove that you have follow through and try to finish your rehearsed plea.  It will only get worse.

The spouse will show up at some point, be it during or soon after this performance, and you haven’t prepared for that, have you?  What if he doesn’t find it sad-funny and is hell bent on smashing your face in?  You don’t fight.  You pretend like you can when you’re drunk, but it’s been years since your one sorta-real fight and it was TERRIFYING.  This situation is snowballing and now you’re in the hospital.

This “dream person” has put you in the friend zone for a reason, but you also have ZERO idea what this “dream person” is like in a relationship.  What if DreamGuy is into feet stuff and the fact that he has foot fungus doesn’t hold him back from asking you to suck his toes?  That could happen!  What if DreamGirl thinks hitting on your dad is the way to get on his good side? But then your Dad is like “I still got it” and tells your Mom, the one who bakes cookies, to “scram, Donna!” …and THEN DreamGirl is kinda like “wow, he just ended his marriage for me” so she goes along with it!  NOW YOUR DREAMGIRL IS BANGING YOUR DAD!

In the end, I just don’t want your friends to catch what happened on their iPhone cameras and then send it to you for the next 33 years whenever they “could use a good laugh.”

-Don’t “just let go” and, like, jump off a cliff or something.  Granted, I have not been on a cliff that I could jump off into the clear blue sea, but, like, who cares? Just go to a pool and don’t risk hurting yourself.  Have you ever heard a friend say “I went cliff diving” and thought he/she was cooler for doing so?  Nope, and that’s ALL they were hoping for when they did that.  A bunch of out of shape people do it, so it’s really not that impressive.  And I’m sure it’s not that fun and probably hurts your feet.

-Don’t drink your sorrows away and then get in a fight at the bar.  The sitch that movies portray go like this: sad, pissed off guy with nothing to lose drinks beers and shots alone at a dive bar.  The game is on and his team is losing because, of course.  He gets progressively drunker (but his hair still looks DYNAMITE) until a big ole sumbitch at the end of the bar says something disrespectful to a woman.  “Apologize to the lady!” leads to a confrontation.  This David v. Goliath confrontation goes one of two ways, 1) David is a secretly awesome fighter guy and hits Goliath with, like, a throat punch that cuts off Goliath’s air supply (v cool move) or 2) Goliath throws David out of the bar, but David is okay cuz he only got hit once and just has a black eye that will cause a hot babe to say “lets get some ice on that.”  This will not happen to you.

You will get hit so hard by Goliath that you’ll think you’re gonna die.  Actually, you may die.  Goliath may actually manslaughter you right there.  OR, you’ll throw a punch that lands, demolishes your hand (it hurts real bad…i know cuz i got in fights…whatever, guys…not that big of a deal…it was actually really stupid…i don’t want to talk about it…you could say i have a dark side…) and then you’re going to get arrested, cry in a jail cell, and get fired on Monday.

Speaking of your job…

-Don’t quit your job in dramatic, or really any, fashion.  Who hasn’t wanted to recreate the Jerry Maguire scene at their office?  (My office even has a goldfish with a box of big plastic bags next to it!)  

jerry maguire  

Sorry to break it to you, but the response you’re going to get is the HR person putting their hand on your shoulder and asking you to “go have a chat.”  In the middle of your big fuck-off speech, someone at the back of the office will take out their headphones and interrupt you with a “what’s happening? what’s he saying?”  It’ll ruin your entire flow, you’ll get flustered and accidentally prove that you’re not as good at public speaking as the job you have necessitates.  This, my friends, is called a backfire.  Even if you stop the “I HAVE PASSIONS I NEED TO EXPLORE!”-speech now, your boss is thinking that someone with such poor planning and public speaking skills isn’t the kind of employee they need right now.

-Don’t have a cigarette.  Do they look cool in the movies? UHHHH DOUBLE DUH!  What they forget to include after the cigarette is the: instant regret, crippling “Am-I-going-to-have-to-get-one-of-those-voice-box-things?”-fear, a hangover going from a 3 to an 11, and your mouth tasting like wet ass in the morning.

 

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Since I trust you, I want to let you in on a lil secret….Shawn Mendes is a blast-off-to-outer-space STAR.  He has a new song out that DADDY LIKEY!  Get in on it now.  (Also, funny to call him “Shawn Menses” when you’re trying to cut him down in front of your lady person.)

 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When you take your dog for a walk and she poops twice but you only brought one bag.  Somebody saw.  Somebody definitely saw you leave that there.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Now, if you’ve been paying attention to jimmyschair, you know that sometimes I change my bets midday.  Thankfully, I did that yesterday.  The picks I put up on yesterday’s blog would have gone 0 for 4.  GOOD THING I EVALUATE THINGS AS THE DAY PROGRESSES CUZ I SWITCHED TWO OF MY BETS AND ENDED UP (basically) EVEN FOR THE DAY!

Tonight?  Can you just text me what you think because I am so lost with this tournament?  That would be a nice thing to do.

(My account currently at $24.21)

K bye.

Sunday TV Binge Shows and Why Angry Wives Are So Funny (3-19-18)

OUR WORLD:

Yesterday was a day of rest for The VP of Ops and I.  Perched in our assigned living room spots, me on my chair (it’s a real thing, this chair, and we’ve developed feelings…real feelings) and The VP on our couch.  (While I love my chair, I will say that not being able to lay sideways on days like yesterday is something I never planned for when claiming my spot as the chair.  This was a slight miscalculation on my part, but I have learned from it and plan to revisit the “assigned seat” negotiating table once we buy our next couch.)  

Aside from the occasional “you okay?”-head tilt towards the other, we were busy dealing with our own Post-St. Patty’s-Day-issues.  Self talk (breathe Jimmy.  Wait…that’s not how breathing works!  HOW DOES BREATHING WORK!?!?!) and awkward positions on your assigned living room seat is what Sundays like this are all about.  How many times did you get kinda excited and think “I’m actually not that bad!” only to get up and have your brain start smashing the eject button from inside your skull.  Zero? Yeah, me too.  Cool cool coolio!

Anyways, we’ve all been here and aside from ordering food that’s not going to taste as good as you think it’s going to, binge watching television shows is the only tonic.  For us, yesterday was “Peaky Blinders” all day, and it got me thinking…what are the best “Sleepy Sunday” binge-worthy tv shows?  *This list is not BEST TV shows, it’s shows that have the ability to soothe your hangover.  Maybe you’ve watched them before, but that’s okay, these shows are like your blankie or dirty old stuffed animal rabbit that you got when you were born and still sleep with (hand up).  

Lets call this our “Top Sleepy Ti Ti Shows” (you know, cuz you’re sleepy and tired…SLEEPY TI TI!):

  1.  The Office:  Number one with a bullet.  Do I even have to say it’s the American version?  I remember when news hit that they were making an American version of “The Office” and I was such a snooty film-school dick about it.  “No way it can recreate the subtle moments the way Ricky Gervais did!”  Pssshaw!  This, my friends, is called a “wrong take”.  Steve Carrell as Michael Scott is the best television character of all time (mean this a billion percent) and getting to watch the prime of this character is the chicken noodle soup of television.  You know what it’s going to be, yet, somehow, you still love every second of it.  (What an analogy!!! Hey! Let’s add that as a section!  YOU’RE DOING IT!).  *FOOD ANALOGY = CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP
  2. The O.C.:  I just wrote and then deleted the following…”I’m not even embarrassed about this pick.”  That means I’m embarrassed about this pick.  I blame The VP of Ops and her powerful influence over my brain for this but let me say this fellas: you watched the first couple seasons of this show when it first came out, and you loved it.  DON’T FUCKING LIE TO ME!  NOT TODAY! NOT ON JIMMYSCHAIR!  This show holds up better than you think it does.  Seth is still funny.  Rachel Bilson is still a babe (see guys? that’s a cool-dude thing to say.  Babes.)  And Ryan still pulls off the white tank look even though, according to all your research, that is not possible.  Remember that super simple sandwich that was your favorite as a kid?  You haven’t had one since you were 11.  This show is like that sandwich.  Try making one, I bet you’ll remember why you loved it.  *FOOD ANALOGY = SALAMI SANDWICH ON WHITE WONDER BREAD
  3. Parks and Rec:  A close cousin to “The Office” for sure, but why should we hold that against this show?  I feel like every time I bring this show up, there’s kind of a “yeah, but it’s not The Office”-cloud over it.  It’s not “The Office”, but it’s almost as funny.  Fat Chris Pratt > Jurassic World Chris Pratt.  Can someone get Chris Pratt out of the gym because he was well on his way to being a comedy megastar.  He’s fine as an action dude, but I like comedies more than action movies so…DO WHAT I SAY!  Andy Dwyer is new-age Chris Farley and Nick Offerman as Ron Swanson makes you want to grow a mustache and be surly to all your co-workers.  This show is a good chip.  It’s not KING CHIP.  It might be the same brand as KING CHIP, but it’s a different flavor.  *FOOD ANALOGY = BUFFALO BLEU KETTLE CHIP’S
  4. Friday Night Lights:  Binging dramas can be difficult.  This show would be higher on just a list of favorite shows of all-time, but it still places as rewatchable because Coach Taylor is my idol.  I don’t even say that as a joke anymore.  When we first watched it, I’d say “I wanna be Coach Taylor” to the VP with like a smirk.  Like, I was sending that thought out as a trial balloon.  But with distance, comes perspective and I think I actually want to become the fictional coach from “Friday Night Lights”.  I would like to coach High School football in Texas.  Did I play? I mean, not really, but…I like football a WHOLE BUNCH!  Guys, A WHOLE BUNCH!  Also, I think I can pull off the gruff, kinda moody, kinda nice, kinda mean, but..oh wait…he’s tough too-type of persona.  Also, not to brag, but I pull off mid-length socks and khaki shorts like I was born in ’em.  This show is truly aspirational much the way a complicated rice dish is.  Much the way I think I could actually become Coach Taylor, you think you won’t fuck up the rice in that complicated, yet delicious looking rice-based dish.  You will fuck up the rice.  *FOOD ANALOGY = COMPLICATED RICE-BASED DISH
  5. Arrested Development:  The new seasons on Netflix don’t count.  Seriously, do not tell me that “they’re actually pretty good”.  I don’t believe you and I don’t care.  The original first 3 seasons of this show are so damn smart and funny that they’re all that matters here.  Cool thing about binging this show is that you can get through those first 3 seasons in a reasonable amount of time.  It’s not going to take your life over.  The most fun debate to have about this show is to ask your friends who their fave character is.  The easy answer is Gob, but guess what? THAT DOESN’T MEAN IT’S WRONG!  Jesus H, I’m so tired of trying to sound smarter than I actually am and picking someone other than Gob for fave character.  “You see, the thing with George Michael that everyone overlooks is-“SHUT UP JIMMY!  It’s Gob.  Convo over.  You’re not that smart.  I’m aware you can make the case for Tobias, but uhhhhhhh NO.  And if you even bring Michael into this arena you will be hanged at the behest of the king (me.  I’m the king here.  King Chair).  This show is so damn funny and I’ve seen it so many times, but I still find little moments that I missed.  It’s like ordering trying a new item or condiment from a fast food restaurant you go to all the time…and being impressed with it.  *FOOD ANALOGY = MCDONALD’S BUFFALO SAUCE (my new KING SAUCE for Chicken Nuggy’s.  Game changer, guys.  Game changer.)

That’s the list.

MY WORLD:

I shaved my facial hair into a mustache this weekend because getting under The VP of Ops’ skin is really fun for me.  That was the reason.  I don’t think it looks good.  In fact, I know it does not look good, and I’m not secure enough to try to convince people that I don’t care about that (although, I DEFINITELY did that this weekend.  I got a few “it actually doesn’t look that bad”s from friends and I lied when I responded “dude, I don’t even care.  I just think it’s funny.”  I cared.  I care.)  

stache*not gonna lie, shades and stache are a solid combo

I did this a few weeks back when The VP of Ops was out of town for the weekend and my brother thought it was funny.  That was fun.  When the VP got back in town, she recoiled at the sight of me and my stache.  I ended up shaving it before going into work that Monday because I was nervous about having to act like debuting a mustache wasn’t a big deal to me.  (Oh this thing? God, I totally forgot I even had it.  I don’t know..just felt like it.  How do I think it looks?  I don’t even care.)  I’m so not that guy.  (DAMNIT!  CAN I PLEASE BE THAT GUY SOMEDAY? GOD? PLEASE!  I WANNA BE THE “WHATEVER” GUY!  THEY’RE SO COOL!  NOTHING BOTHERS THEM!  THEY JUST SAY “WHATEVER” AND SMOKE ANOTHER CIGARETTE!)  I am, unfortunately for The VP of Ops, the “This Pisses My Wife Off, So It’s Hilarious”-guy.

It’s why I tie light jackets around my waist in the fall and early spring.  Is it comfortable and convenient? Yes, of course.  But, it also causes The VP to give me the side-eye and whisper something to me like “really? You’re really doing that in public next to me?”  Uh….yeah babe!  I’m doing this to you in public.  (I like to laugh!  So sue me!) It’s why I wear sunglasses that are like a 4 on the looks scale.  Do I want to buy cool-guy shades from a designer that my hipster brother told me about? Yes.  But then The VP wouldn’t be moderately embarrassed to introduce me-wearing my gas station hotboi shades-to a friend of hers I’d yet to meet.  WHERE’S THE FUN IN THAT?!?!

Now, because I am having so much fun thinking of all the times I have done something with the primary goal being to make The VP of Ops uncomfortable/mad/embarassed at me..I will be debuting a new section to my Monday blogs from here on out.  The section will be called “The Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The Vp of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable”.  Look forward to a full-on story next Monday and many Monday’s from here on out.  In the meantime, I look forward to brainstorming new ways to accomplish this…cuz there are like a lot of Monday’s in the future of the world AND I GOTTA GIVE THE PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT!

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to run through a brick wall right about now.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I just hate this fucking song.  Remember when it was super popular?  What the fuck was that all about?

 

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE: 

I’m not going to lie to you guys, this NCAA tournament has been an unmitigated disaster for my gambling account and…life.  Like, the amount of new deposits I’ve made into this account are nearing the “is this actually impacting my life”-zone.  It’s scary and kind of invigorating all at the same time.  I am saving my remaining balance, however, for this Thursday’s games when the tourney returns.  That’s the plan at least…stay tuned.

(My account currently at $28.21)

K bye.

Navigating Sports Fans at Work Today (3/15/2018)

OUR WORLD:

Today is the first day of the NCAA Tournament, the REAL kick-off for March Madness.  This is the 4th of July in the middle of March, celebrated indoors, without fireworks or hot dogs, but…GODDAMNIT, YOU GET WHAT I’M SAYING. (I’m on edge, and I’m not apologizing for it today.  I’m a full pot of coffee deep and my nerves are….FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP BARKING BELLE!!!)  Today is a super big deal for sports fans, and the fact that a candidate hasn’t run on a “I’ll make the first 2 days of March Madness National Holidays”-platform is a real mystery.  (Jimmy Politics IS IN THE BUILDING!!!)  However, I do realize that today is also a prime day for the non-sports fans to poke fun at  and needle people of my ilk.  I am asking, for the sake of sports NUTZ everywhere, that you refrain from doing that today.  (I’m not kidding.  This is not a joke and that is why there is no joke being inserted here.  This is a serious ask from a serious man.  Simply, today is not the day.  NOT. THE. DAY.)  Along those lines, here is a guide for you non-sporties out there at work today looking to steer clear of the  glare/wrath/shout/get-the-fuck-away-from-me-RIGHT-NOW-ANDY:

*Before I begin, from here on out, I will be referring to the Sports Fans as “Jimmy’s” and the Non-Sports Fans “Hitler’s” because I am Jimmy and, I don’t know, “Hitler’s” has a ring to it.

This Morning:  The “Jimmy’s” will be BOUNCING into work.  No coffee crash this morning because they’re going to keep drinking it until lunch.  Can’t crash if you never stop, everyone knows this.  The train to PURE-BLIND-JOY-VILLE has left the station and the Jimmy’s are hanging off the sides waving their newsboy caps in the air like they did in the old-timey movies.  We’re going to paradise!

The-Train

Adrenaline through the roof because ALL of the “Jimmy’s” have convinced themselves that this is they year they win their NCAA pool.  (I am SO in that mindset right now.)  They’re settling in to their desks and smiling and shooting cool head nods at everyone, including the “Hitler’s”.

This is the part of the day where a Hitler may get caught in the middle of a few Jimmy’s talking about what upsets they have today.  Hitler’s, this is the only time you will be able to make the “Sports!” joke without SEVERELY pissing off a Jimmy (saying “Sports!” in the middle of a sports convo is Hitler’s go-to “joke” even though it never actually makes people laugh.  Next time, just say “I feel left out!” Same effect.  It’s what I do when people talk about wrestling or books.) 

The Jimmy’s will be listening to good-times music (think, “Valerie” by Steve Winwood on repeat) because they need positive vibes.  Don’t even think about putting the office speakers on something like Bon Iver or The National because positive vibes and positivity and being optimistic and everything is going to be great! I FEEL GREAT!  THIS IS GOING GREAT!!!! (I literally just said “I feel great!” outloud in my chair while listening to “Valerie”)  Hitler’s, get it out now.  You can’t touch the Jimmy’s at this moment.  Roll your eyes, audibly sigh and say stuff like “Tom, is your powerpoint ready for the meeting?”

As we near tip, the Jimmy’s will be chair dancing, making explosion noises like “BOOOOSH” after every e-mail they fire off, smirking at fellow Jimmy’s around the office and, fuck it!  LET’S DANCE GUYS!  TODAY IS OUR DAY!!!! TODAY IS OUR FUCKING DAY!!!!

Lunchtime:  The Jimmy’s are beginning to split into factions now.  Some are winning, some are beginning to lose and crumble.  The coffee crash is expedited with a lunchtime beer.  Hitler’s, watch out for the Jimmy who orders the second lunchtime beer…they are entering a dark place and you don’t deserve any of the attitude they’re about to throw your way.  “I don’t know, Bill.  I said I’d get to it after lunch!”  These types of minor outbursts are to be expected at the point.  Not too mean, but they’re getting close.  You did nothing wrong, okay? It’s not-HEY!  It’s not your fault!

You will also notice that The Jimmy’s are beginning to turn on each other.  Rivaling factions of Jimmy’s in the same vicinity is a recipe for dis–well, not disaster.  More like, “I get it, your sleeper is up 13 at half”-type tiffs.  No one is super pissy yet, but there are some Jimmy’s who are beginning to question if this really is their year.  (Wait? But…this is my year, isn’t it?  This can’t…this just can’t be.)

Post-lunch self-awareness for Jimmy’s will be at an all-time low.  They will be mediocre, AT BEST, at their job and that is not okay (but like, it kinda is).  I point this out because Hitler’s need to stand back now.  Don’t go up to a Jimmy to see if they “returned that e-mail yet.”  It’s not the time.  Now is the time to for the Jimmy’s to be smashing the refresh button on ESPN.com’s NCAA scoreboard.  Pretend you can’t hear their muted cheers or stifled curse words or audible “his foot was on the line!”‘s.  Jimmy’s are not looking for conversation, they are talking to God.

Early Afternoon:  The Jimmy’s will be rubbing their faces and blinking very hard at this point.  If they’ve taken losses in the first batch of games, they’re giving themselves pep talks.  If they’ve hit on some wins, they’re probably taking deep breaths while mouthing words like “calm down, just the start.  Long way to go.”  They’re a little more approachable at this point, but no sudden movements or brazen attempts at sarcasm.  It’s a fragile time.  If Wright State beats Tennessee, they’re back on track..but…STAYING POSITIVE!  NO BUTS!  WE’RE ONLY THINKING HAPPY THOUGHTS RIGHT NOW!

Hitler’s, if you REALLY need something done for work, now is the last time you can ask.  Be gentle and kind with your requests.  The Jimmy’s are beginning to feel a twinge of guilt for ignoring 3 hours worth of e-mails, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have good hearts.  They’re ready to do some, SOME! work, but don’t get nuts or mad.  A simple, “Hey Jimmy, if you have time, would you mind?”  Done.  Love the ask, and, guess what? Doing it right now!  Sorry if I was a little short earlier.  Then they’ll make an embarrassed smile, shake their heads and roll their eyes a little at how childish they’ve acted.

leo-decaprio-shoulder-shrug

This is when you, Hitler, give the confused, “Don’t even worry about it!”-look with a lazy airwave.  You’ll jump straight to the top of a Jimmy’s “he/she is a good person” list with a move like that.

The second batch of games begins and their concentration will begin to wane back into the ESPN scoreboard.  If they haven’t finished whatever they “need” to finish…it’s gonna have to wait.  Mmmkay?  It’s just gonna have to wait.

End of Day:  The Hitler’s have probably had it by now.  I get it, being surrounded by a group of people who are SUPER interested in something you have no idea about, must SUCK.  I am not friendly in situations like this.  Like, when I go to Farmer’s Markets in the summer and people are freaking out about $7 tomatoes, but all I can think about is how hot I am and how Mariano’s ALWAYS has tomatoes…that are ALWAYS cheaper.  “Not getting it” stinks, and I want you Hitler’s to know, that I know, that it stinks.

You’ve had to put up with en entire day of adults wildly cheering for and against teenagers that they’ve never met.  It’s a dynamic that’s easy to mock, but doing so is a total dick move.  No matter how funny your “You didn’t even go to that school”-reminder may be, no one will laugh.  You’ve had to swallow all of your go-to “sports don’t matter as much as the thing I like”-jokes and quips for an entire work day AND YOU’RE READY TO BLOW.

Therefore, this is the most dangerous time of day.  The Hitler’s have HAD IT with the lack of productivity and barbarism of The Jimmy’s, and The Jimmy’s have lost a few games by now and are beginning to calculate how much money they have spent on failed brackets over the past 5 years.  (Don’t!  Guys!  Guys!  Don’t do that!)  The exit from work must be careful for both parties.  To avoid setting off this powder keg, here’s what I suggest for the walk out: Jimmy’s should identify themselves by tying their coat around their waist.  (I do this on the reg because A) The VP of Ops HATES it and B) It’s makes sense sometimes).  Hitler’s should identify themselves by, no matter the weather, wearing their fingerless gloves (come on, I know you have them.)  Waist-coaters should not get in the same elevator as the fingerless-glovers, and Fingerless-glovers should not ask the Waist-coaters how their day was.  This is the time of day where it’s just better to be safe than sorry.  Avoid each other.

Tomorrow will be similar.  Don’t fight it.

MY WORLD:

Today’s “My World” is short and sweet…CUZ STEVE WINWOOD JAMS!!!  This is my year to win a bracket because I never have and The VP of Ops has and that is bananaland UNFAIR.  I plan on dominating the television whenever I am home over the next 96 hours and not. apologizing. for. it.

VALERIEEEEEE!  CALL ON ME!  CALL ON ME, VALERIE!  COME AND SEE ME!  I’M THE SAME BOY I USED TO BE!

(one of my top 6 favorite things to do in life, is to sneak up behind the VP of Ops and whisper into her ear “I’m the same boy I used to be.”)

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

heirloom-tomatoes-on-sale-at-a-farmers-market-isaquah-washington-BNMKEC

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE: 

Listen, I’m officially afraid of the JimmysChair gambling curse and today is not the day to test it.  Therefore, I will simply wish you all luck.  The next 4 days are going to be a grind, pack a lunch.

(My account currently at $67)

K bye.