To all the wonderful food servers out there:
Please stop asking: “Still working on it?” I am not working. I am eating. I realize it probably just comes out naturally because someone kidnapped you and tortured you under hypnosis and brainwashed you to say this. Please, could you just ask if we’re finished?
To all deli workers:
Since you’re wearing gloves as a health practice, please try not to 1) scratch your ear, 2) pull up the back of your pants, and 3) adjust your cap which looks like it hasn’t been washed since your Granddaddy wore it in 1960 when this corporate conglomerate grocery chain was a 12 x 20 corner store. With a pickle barrel.
To all car salespeople:
Please stop with the secret sliding-across-the-table-of-the-paper-with-a-price-on-it while we’re negotiating a price. I am not in second grade playing “Memory” or homemade “Guess Who?” or “Pick a number, any number” or any other 8-year-old version of a game with paper and a pencil. Can’t you just talk to me? Holy shit.
To all front-line medical people:
Will you please introduce yourself? A simple “Hi, I’m Judy” would do (unless your name is Tom.) I don’t need your full name, social security number, home address, or mating habits. I just need a basic introduction, and I might need it every time I come in, ‘cause I’m getting older and a little forgetful. “Hi. Remember me? I’m Adam.” I mean, you know everything about me. It’s at your fingertips, and if you’re actually touching my fingertips for blood, blood pressure, or anything else, I’d love a name to go with your smile. Even though my insurance company prefers to pretend I am a non-person, I believe you really do care but, well, see above (reference food servers, kidnapping, and so on.) I know you’re doing your best. Just tell me who you are. For all I know, you might be the person delivering the staff lunch.
And no. I’m not still working on it.
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