In the middle of late last night I was sittin’ on a curb

Well, what can I say? I’m back at PHL and it looks like a cross between the last days in Saigon and a Turkish marketplace. Have I used that line before? Maybe I have.

It’s been a long day.

The alarm went off at 6 because I try not to get fat while I travel. So, I got dressed and trudged down to the gym…only to find that the good machines were taken; leaving me a treadmill. Since I don’t like treadmills, I was not happy. They make me get shin splints and then you’d all have to hear about that. So, I went back to the room. I figured I’d just make a pot of coffee. Then I realized that all I had been that powdered milk/creamer shit. So, I went back to the lobby and got the little pouches of milk. Back upstairs I went. Decaf only. Back downstairs I went. Finally, 15 minutes later, I was ready to brew coffee.

It was going to be that kind of day.

But, I’ll digress to a story from yesterday. So, M and I are taking about something that HealthCareRelatedCompany prints. Depending on the volume needed at the time of the run, the components of the mailing are printed in different ways. If the run is large enough, they put the appropriate components on a printing press (ink) rather than run them on a digital press. You don’t need to understand what that means; just know that at some quantity, the job kicks to the other method.

So, I tried to explain that and it was like I was talking to an uninformed dog.

Me: So, at some quantity, they kick the booklets and claim forms to offset because it’s more cost-effective.

M: Telephone Area Rug, phone jack. (Actually, that’s not what he said. I don’t know what he said; all I know is that it had nothing to do with what I had told him.

Me: No, as I said, there’s a quantity break and those (pointing to the pieces) run offset and not digital.

M: UggaBoogaOonaGooga

Me: Sure. Whatever. You’ve worked in printing for how long? Because, I’ve met shoes that seem to know more about printing than you do.

Fast forward to last night. I was in PA eating with my old co-project manager. He’s been hearing the horror stories about our group from within the grapevine. He’s amazed about what he’s hearing. And not amazed in a good way.

I’m working in a very high-profile position. It’s not me, moreover, it’s the office. RedCompany has launched this office and it’s the biggest one of its kind on this side of the Atlantic. There are a lot of eyes on us. So, on one hand, if I make my mark, I can really use this as a springboard to other opportunities. However, if the fuckups I work with continue to be just that, I may need to find a way to get the hell away from them and get transferred to Greece. The country, not the town in NY.

On a bright note, I was lucky to have H’s company at the hotel last night. I think he got jealous that I was staying in PA last night and wanted to tag along. We had a tour at a facility that HealthCareRelatedCompany has in south Jersey and I figured I could go to the PA office and hang out. Naturally he wanted to come. Here’s how the multiple phone calls went.

Me (in my car): You don’t have a profile on the travel website yet. Call the office to book it.
H: I don’t have any paper.
Me: Great. Well, if you find some, call me.
Time passes…
H: I went on the website and it’s not working.
Me: Probably because you didn’t call them like I told you to. Here’s the number.
H: Where’s the hotel because I can’t find it.
Me: Courtyard by Marriott, North Wales, PA.
H: I can’t find it on line.
Me: The travel system sometimes has a hard time finding hotels in smaller towns. Did you consider calling the number?
H: Should I call?
Time Passes…
H: I can’t find the hotel.
Me: It’s there, trust me.
H: I don’t think it is. Are you sure you’re staying there.
Me: Well, I sure hope I am. I have a reservation and sure hope the hotel hasn’t vanished.
H: What’s the address?
Me: I don’t know. It’s at the intersection of Route 202 and 309.
H: No it’s not.
Me: Good Bye now.

Then, today at the plant, he argued with me about how to insert printed materials into an envelope. I think he wanted to use a printing press to do it. Does that mean nothing to you? Well, let me put it this way. Let’s say you needed to drive from here to there? Would you sit on your Cuisinart and hope for the best? I didn’t think so.

Then, today at HealthCareRelatedCompany’s facility, I learned that M seems to be confused by stairs. We had to walk up a flight and he stopped at the bottom for a moment of contemplation. I don’t know, maybe he’s in some odd religion that worships stairs and he needed a moment to pray, but once he gathered himself, he took the stairs like a toddler…clutching the hand rail and putting both feet on the step above before he prayed and tackled the next one.

These stories don’t even get into L’s behavior. I simply am not strong enough right now.

So, I’m sitting here on the floor near my gate. It’s 5:45 and I have at least 2 more hours to go. I’m sitting here next to 2 kids. He’s watching a movie and she’s arguing with her father because the flight is late. She can’t believe how this could happen to her and Dad seems to agree. I believe he wants her to do something about it.

It’s a mess here. But, they are clearing some flights and seats in the gate area seem to be opening up. That’s good because my ass went numb ages ago. If I stand up, I’m going to end up walking like a retard while the blood returns to my ass cheeks and legs.

I think I’ll take a nap now. Or kill myself.

4 thoughts on “In the middle of late last night I was sittin’ on a curb

  1. Hey M! You Retard! What are you doing? Praying? Didn't they teach you how to climb stairs? Ha ha ha.

    No. It have a bad leg. It's from a car accident last year. My wife died. Thanks. (prick).

  2. You've been powdered milk creamer all this time? No wonder you get shit splints! With days like these I think a little decaf would be good for you, ya know? Either that or more rum.

  3. Suicide is not the answer. I'll have no one else to hurl my insults at. God, you're so selfish.

    I'm still waiting for my mouse-ear vibrator, btw. Ass monkey.

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