When we close our window to go do something else we have to tape a slip of paper explaining exactly what we are doing and where we are unless we want every student ever to yell at us always. Our newest batch of slips was made by none other than M. Here are the good three:
Those are good for obvious reasons and because someone offered to make us cupcakes and I think she is actually going to. There is one bad one. It is the going to the bathroom sign. It says “BRB - SERIOUSLY YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW.” And that’s all fine except that it has a drawing of M and I on it - M has way too many pearls on in this illustration - and she is saying:
“Hey! I gotta go pee out these five cups of coffee!”
And I am saying:
“Gross… TMI!”
This sign is bad because I would never say that. When I made a batch of signs one of them said “BRB - PEEING OR POOPING.”
- N
- N
The service window that we pull up when we’re open is broken. I have no idea how it happened but it did. So I made a sign that says “WE’RE HERE! :) BUT OUR WINDOW IS BROKEN! :( If you need service, please come around to the door by the ladies’ room.”
However, the only people that are staying here right now are big jocky football players. I don’t mean to stereotype, but none of them know how to read that sign. Instead, they come in and yell, essentially: AHHHH WHAT THE FUCK THEY’RE CLOSED WHAT THE FUCK THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO BE OPEN ROOOOAAAAARRRRRRRR FUCK!!!
Eventually, one of their buddies will tap them on the shoulder or whatever and say, “Dude, read the sign!” They will then read the sign - slowly - out loud and come around to the door by the ladies’ room, smiling and pretending that either a) they didn’t just get through raging, or b) at the very least, that I didn’t hear them.
- N
naturally, a lot of girls get this magazine, but what weirds me out, a majority of the subscribers are the RA girls, or the girls in your history class that kiss so much ass and know everything and you want to strangle them when they correct the teacher that actually napoleon was three inches shorter than what the professor said.
anyway, cosmo probably makes the top five magazines that use unneccessary amounts of paper. there was a giant graphic in it that said “48% of guys would break up with his girlfriend if she gained too much weight.”
why the hell does this still exist, and why are the supposedly smart people reading it?!
-M
Because an unusually large amount of mail has gone missing this year, our door was replaced with a door that has a fob lock on it. Along with that, every employee of the mail room received their very own fob that they not only get to carry around with them (instead of having to get the key from one of the mail boxes every time you come to work), but also they monitor every time you use it to go inside the mail room! Each one is traceable to you, I mean. Very Orwellian.
Anyway, today is the first day with these new devices and I went to the bathroom once and then got some water from the cafeteria and then bought a Big Kat from the vending machine, closing the door each time I left. I felt really weird unlocking the door each time because I’m afraid that tomorrow “they” are gonna come up and be like “WHY’D YOU KEEP OPENING THE DOOR?!”
So, to save you the trouble, CIA: that’s why.
- N
perhaps i haven’t written anything because i don’t have time because i’m too damn busy dealing with mountains of packages. often i wonder, how are there this many packages. how do these kids do this? they can’t be doing that much internet shopping” (unless they love woot.com).
i just gave a package to a girl who has adopted a lady named gerda as her grandmother, and dear old gerda just sends this girl packages of homemade goodies randomly.
i need to find me an adopted grandma, because my real one is totally not doing this!
-M
I walked in and saw that N’s bike was already parked and thought to myself “rats, all the bike parking is taken up”
(don’t worry, now our bikes are just besties and i’m gingerly scrambling over them to extract kids packages)(luckily we’ve only had one)
-M
so today i came to work, ready for anything, and completed all of my work.
BUT we’re out of stamps, and four kids came up wanting stamps. i had to turn them all away. then, i realized that we only had one pen, and some girl asked if she could borrow it. i said sure but she better return it, glaring at her.
of course she didn’t return it, so after telling the fifteenth kid to sign for their package with a pencil i god kind of dramatic and said “it’s all we HAVE! because your rotten little asshole peers took our pens.” she stared at me, laughed uncomfortably and walked away.
i yelled i don’t think you’re an asshole as she was leaving. i heard her say thanks, uncomfortably.
opps.
-M
i’ve been enjoying a very calm, relaxed workday this evening. i’ve been reading the jungle, eating chinese food, and not getting mad at anybody.
i got a certain somebody their package today, in my quiet, calm, relaxed, zen state, and after i handed it to him, with just the counter between us, he let out the manliest “YEAH!” still finishing signing up his name.
he then walked away muttering that he didn’t even know what it was
today was a day where i realized how much i really love my job.
we’re one of the only establishments on campus that is totally student run. we get left alone and i can listen to whatever music i want, at mostly whatever volume i want (but some people make snarky comments). i can work at my own pace, and i’m treated and trusted like an adult. i can cut things out of magazines and tape them to walls. i can store my stuff here (as long as it’s not in the way).
and although there are some dirtbags that like watching espn instead of giving kids packages, or reading the news instead of doing forwards, it’s still a pleasant place.
i hope you guys also have jobs that you actually enjoy.
-M
“she was a beavers fan, but then she married a duck, so now she’s just not watching football games”
the civil war game is happening. this is when the university of oregon (ducks) play oregon state (beavers). everybody in ashland gets their panties in a wad about this junk which is silly because hello?! we don’t go to either of these schools so why care?
god damn am i sick of fucking football.
When the letter carriers call to tell us that they’re on their way, they usually say, “Hey, it’s Nick/Sally/Matt/etc., I’m on my way with your mail” or, “Hey, I’ll be there in about 5 minutes with your mail.”
Since the dawn of the mail room, though, there was always a certain carrier who never identified by his real name. He would always address himself as Carrier 17. Here are some fun facts about Carrier 17:
We thought Carrier 17 got fired, but he just delivered to me! Dude didn’t even turn off his truck, that’s how interested he is in speedy mail delivery.
- N
counting dimes. i feel like i’m wasting my life counting away these stupid things. and who is on them. eisenhower? do i give a rats ass about eisenhower? no fiber of my being could possibly care.they’re too small to really stack, but they’re too big that you can’t just count them all. i spend my time building small piles of tiny silver eisenhower bits. it’s the worst part of my job. anybody else have to count change at their job?
