Thursday, October 6, 2011

I would STILL like a bite of that donut

If you have read this post, then the following ramblings will make sense to you. Otherwise, here’s the gist of it: I work in a coffee shop. We have a lot of regular customers. ‘Donut’ is the codeword we use for ‘beautiful, beautiful man.’ My manager and I have a thing for the same three donuts. One donut in particular. Mmm. Donut.

And now, the progress report:

Tomorrow I will be working a split shift. I’ll be working from 6:00am to 7:00pm with two and a half hours off in the middle. Why did I agree to do this? Because there’s no one to do the shift and I want to help my supervisor out, of course. That’s the honest truth. Part of the honest truth. A tiny part of the honest truth. About 5%. 10% is for the money. The other 85% is for the chance of some sneaky afternoon pervy time.

Since finding out that the donut we placed at number one has been buying coffee in the afternoons, my manager (the one who challenged me to a death match) has been hanging around for almost 3 hours after her shift ends to ‘do paperwork.’ ‘Paperwork’ that seems to involve a lot of sitting around while looking out the window. ‘Paperwork’ that she conveniently seems to finish about 5 minutes after this guy comes through. ‘Paperwork’ that doesn’t seem to involve very much paperwork at all.

Then there’s the poor supervisor stuck in the middle. She’s in a relationship and is therefore blind, apparently. The phrases ‘I don’t find him attractive, but I guess I can see why you would’ and ‘I just don’t see it’ have been thrown around a lot lately. This is generally followed by me throwing a world class tantrum.

When my shift finished this afternoon I decided that perhaps I would do some ‘paperwork’ of my own. This mostly involved reading MX (it’s paper…) and drawing the two of us in all our tragic glory (on paper).

Relationship-y supervisor lady: ‘Do you know how funny it is that you’re both doing this?’
Me: ‘Doing what?’
Supervisor lady: ‘Just sitting there, waiting for this guy.’
Manager: ‘I’m not, I’m doing paperwork.’
Me: ‘And I’m… watching her do paperwork.’

This is what life has come to. We’re too young, too funny and too attractive to be dirty perverts. And yet, here we are. As tragic and pathetic as the whole shenanigan is, it’s a constant source of entertainment that has led to many bouts of hysterical laughter (hysterical laughter directly in donut #2’s face, once. But he keeps coming back, so that means we’re meant to be together, right? Also, last Monday, I’m pretty sure #1 busted me giving him the googley eyes. But he still comes in, so that means we’re meant to be together, right?).

1 comment:

Sharon Welgus said...

I remember being that young and doing similar things many, many years ago. Always, he would be in a relationship or gay. At least you can be writing a short story while you are waiting.