Do I look like I'm a Christian?

Ah, the things you hear at work sometime.

I don't know why it came up, but one of the Muslim women at worked asked another lady, I'll call her "Jackie", if she was a Christian.

Her reply, as is the title of this post was, "Do I look like I'm a Christian?" with a fair amount of .....almost disdain in her voice. I was thinking, well, not really any of my business, but you look about as Christian as anyone else.

"Jackie" then went on to explain that she was Indian by descent and "brown" so therefore it was a silly question. I wholeheartedly agree that it was a silly question....but not for the reasons she listed. I really don't think questions about religion, even ones as basic as that, have any place at work. I mean if you choose to declare your affiliation by wearing a turban, or head scarf, or have a pentagram tattooed on your forehead, that's your choice.... but it really shouldn't be a question that anyone should be asking.

Of course I already knew "Jackie" didn't share this opinion since she confronted me at Christmas about how lucky I was to be not working the holiday since I was a Christian (I'm not.....). She even called me a liar when I told her I wasn't. Social graces are not "Jackie"'s strongest skill.

So yeah, back to her declaration that she must not be a Christian because she's Indian. I think she needs to run some numbers. There's actually as many or more Christians in India than in Canada. On the last census info I could get, 2.3% of the Indian Population was Christian, compared with 77% of Canadians. "Er, Ren...." you say, "77% is way more than 2.3%", to which I reply....yes, but 2.3% of 1 billion-ish is as much or more than 77% of 30 million. The last numbers I could find listed India as having 24 million Christians and Canada as having 21 million.

Basically, if you're just driving down the sidewalk hitting people with your car, you're more likely to get a Christian if you're doing it in Canada, but I'd certainly suggest you try to hit just as many Indian-looking people as you did whites just to make sure you don't miss a bunch.

So, to answer you "Jackie"....yes, you do look an awful lot like a Christian.

I don't quite remember this part

Ok...I remember getting taught the facts of life....but I'm pretty sure it didn't involve freaky rednecks, frogs, hippos, or owls.

Anyone?

How does this happen?

My dodgeball team, the ROY G BIVS (best/lamest name ever all at the same time) won our league this season. It was a "really-rec" league where they don't judge you on wins and losses but on your sportsmanship and the amount of fun you have.

What confuses me is that our team didn't really go out to have fun and our sportsmanship was questionable at best. We were playing to win....and I don't think a bunch of rage cases hucking balls at people as hard as they can is really the epitome of either good sportsmanship or having fun.

Woohoo.

Basically, the league champ was determined by having the captains vote for which team was their fave for the year based on overall fun. I can only assume we were voted for because people wanted to vote for the team they thought would get the least votes so they'd have the best chance of winning. Looks like that backfired.

I'm confused

This post is meant as a bit of a joke, and maybe at the same time a bit of not-a-joke.

Why....in the middle of an "obesity crisis", are women (and men even) still complaining about the media "bombarding them with unrealistic images of what they should look like"?

The last report I looked at stated that 65% of americans are overweight or obese. On the other hand, 5-7% of american women will suffer from anorexia or bulimia during their lifetime.

I will never try to argue that eating disorders do not cause significant health problems and I definitely won't make light of that fact, however, I think anyone could agree that obesity's list is mighty impressive. Obesity can contribute to your chances of getting diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, fuck...I'm not going to list them all....look here if you really don't know what being fat does to your health.

Now, I understand that eating disorders are serious, and that even in the absence of an eating disorder, people can experience low self esteem and feelings of anxiety or inadequacy due to not looking as good as they think the people on tv or in the magazines do. But is the media's message really the problem? I'll admit that I have no use for fame for fame's sake and therefore do not read "People" and their ilk....but I've always found they have a variety of shapes of people within their pages. Why do women automatically associate the skinniest thing in front of them with what everyone thinks is ideal? Maybe a few years ago that was the case, but it seems lately that the super-skinny is being stigmitized almost as much as the super-fat.

Maybe it's just me being so confident in my body image that I'm missing this stuff....except that's not it. Ask anyone who actually knows me, I have my hang-ups. There's stuff about me that I wish was different. I wish my arms were a bit beefier. I wish my jaw-line was more defined. I don't know what I'd want my hair to be.....but I really don't like it. I wish that I didn't feel so ugly that pulling the "You won second prize in a beauty contest" card in monopoly causes a momentary sense of pride. And yeah there are famous people, and even not famous people that I wish I could look more like....but it doesn't keep me up at night. And why would it?

Hell....if I go to the magazine rack there's all sorts of stuff there trying to make me feel inadequate. All the houses and gardens in the Home and Garden section look better than my house and my garden. Most of the cars in the car magazines are cooler than mine, and they're definitely newer. All the computers are faster, smaller and more powerful than mine, and all the tv's are bigger and brighter. Do I wish my stuff was more like that stuff....sure. Does it make me feel bad that my stuff isn't more like that stuff. Yeah, a bit. Am I outraged that they don't put more dumpy houses in the magazines with garages full of older, uncool cars and rec-rooms filled with small tv's and big, slow computers. No....not really. It's nice to look at nice and fancy stuff that's better than mine. And for me, when I actually do look in a magazine, it's kinda nice if the people in it look a little better than the people that are hangin' out at the mall.

And even if the ideal is set a little too far on the skinny side of things, is that necessarily a bad thing? Remember..... 65% of americans are fat at this moment. Is it a bad thing to surround them with images of people who are skinnier than them? But what about the people who end up getting eating disorders. Well, for starters....let's look at things on a completely indifferent, numbers-only level. Less than 10% of americans will suffer from anorexia or bulimia in their lifetimes. Which of those numbers is bigger?

And pretty much everyone agrees that there is a pretty large psychological component to eating disorders. Obsessive-compulsive disorder and depression seem to go hand-in-hand with anorexia and bulimia. What's to say that even if every environmental/societal trigger for these diseases was removed that the same people who would have had these problems wouldn't succumb to something else. A vicious cycle of never-ending home-improvement. Frequent upgrading of vehicles despite there being no problem with the old one. Compulsive shopping perhaps? Hmm...looking at the current economic crisis and the credit crunch, maybe it's already happened.

So yeah, for all you women (and men) in the middle. Maybe you should stop whinging about "the media" making you feel inadequate by bombarding you with unrealistic body images, and start thinking for yourselves. Take a look at yourself and be as healthy as you can be, and stop worrying. Sure there are people on TV who are hotter than you....but that's ok. I bet your boyfriend or girlfriend thinks you're pretty alright. Do you think you'd even bother with TV or movies if the people weren't better looking than you or doing more interesting stuff than you? If you don't like the people that are on your tv or in your magazines, there's a simple solution. Stop buying the magazines, and turn off the tv. If it's really burning you up inside then stop buying the products that are advertised during the shows that offend you and write letters to the companies. Personally I say leave things the way they are. There are way too many fat people and they need someone to look up to.

Oh yeah, maybe put the credit card away for a bit too, last years stuff is fine.

Friday night Flames Fun

So, I managed to score a ticket to the Flames game last night. It was a good game, I'm glad I went. I love watching hockey and I don't really do it enough. But this story isn't about that. It's about all the wonderful people I saw during my evening.

First of the night, an older couple sat down across from me in my little pod of four seats on the train. They looked pretty shaggy and horrible, but I don't think they were homeless....maybe he was a college professor or something. They were talking about boring stuff....and I really didn't want to get accidentally included, so I just put them on ignore and proceeded to text message pretty much everybody I know.

I've got an LG KEYBO (worst name EVER) phone, with a fold-out full QWERTY keyboard. And while I'm typing away, the wife notices my phone and starts talking to her husband about it. Ok, whatever....you're old and it's kinda neat...fair enough. But she doesn't just stop...she goes on and on.

"look at that phone he has"
"i think it has a full keyboard"
"it does, it does have a full keyboard"
"i bet you can really type fast on those"
"oh, but it's so small he still just uses his thumbs"
"but boy he can sure type fast anyway"
"do you think I should get one of those"

Husband (first thing he's said other than uh huh) - "What? Why? What the hell would you do with that?!?"

"it just looks really neat"
"you can tell, he's talking to all his friends"
"keeping up with things"
"young people are so in touch these days"

Finally I'd had enough. I flipped my phone closed and decided to make super-uncomfortable eye-contact with her. She shut right up but I'll admit she held my stare for about 2 seconds before looking over at her husband and resuming talking about not-me.

Seriously. What the hell. Did you not realize I could hear you. You were exactly 1.5 feet away from me. Our fucking knees were pretty much touching. I've had dates with less physical intimacy. Maybe she just thought I couldn't understand her. Like I was a puppy. Or a badly misdirected Nigerian boy who doesn't speak a word of english.



So, the next hilarious person, was the greasy hippy at the game itself. He had the whole outfit. Long stringy gray hair, that used to be black. Leather headband with some kind of fake jewels up front and center. Big horrible mustache. Suede Navajo jacket with fringe. Skin tight vertically striped pants in Chicago Bears colors (orange/blue/white). Flames jersey.

Whoah. Back it up. What were those last two. For starters...doesn't wearing "Officially Licensed Product" kinda go against the whole hippy mentality? I'll admit, he didn't have it customized or anything, and it wasn't one of the newest RBK Edge jerseys.....but still.....that just rubbed me the wrong way. And I don't even know what to say about those pants. They were incredible. They looked like something one of the second tier British Invasion groups would have worn....like the Dave Clark Five, or the Spencer Davis Group. You know...those guys.

Stranger still was his seating arrangement. You'd think that a filthy dirty hippy would A) be sitting alone, just ruining other peoples nights with his existence. Or B) be sitting in a posse of other filthy dirty hippies. Possibly a drum circle in section 222. But nope. He was sitting in the middle of a group of relatively clean-cut younger guys. Maybe he was their uncle. Just out of jail. "Hey kids, point out on the doll where dirty old uncle tom touched you"......



On the ride home on the train I got two good ones. The first was a father and son, riding the train home after the game. The kid about 17 or 18, dad older enough to have an 18 year old kid. Nothing weird about that you say. Well it is if they have matching fucking jackets. And they did. Admittedly some matching jackets would be ok. Like Calgary Flames jackets. Or, some kind of sports team they both play on. Or a family business. Also, take note, I'm not talking about jackets that are just kinda similar....like if they both had black leather bombers or something.

Nope....completely identical ski-jackets. The kind you get at costco with the zip-out fleece, and then as soon as you get it home you notice everyone else in town is wearing one. It's one thing to match some random person at the mall. But seriously guys....couldn't you have grabbed different colors or something? Did you think that you were never going to be out in public together? I know they're a great deal....but think ahead....just for once.



The last one was less an oddity than just some simple eye-candy for me. She got on a couple stops into the ride. Fairly attractive, late 20's-early 30's Indian girl. Wearing a very nice short skirt. I may have been paying too much attention to the father-son fashion mistake for the first part of the ride, but then I just couldn't wait for them to get out of the way. The nice thing about the C-Train is at night you can use the windows for some nice covert views of things. You look like you're staring wistfully into space when in reality, you're looking at some girl. Or some dirty hippy. Or whatever looks most interesting that you maybe don't want to get caught staring right at.

What I didn't want to get caught staring at was her legs. Nothing special....maybe a bit chubby even. But, the way she had them crossed, her skirt was only about 1/2 a breath away from completely exposing her panties. She rode on and on, talking on her phone the whole time, when finally it came to her stop. But she didn't realize at first it was her stop. She was too engrossed in her phone conversation. So when she realized she was about to miss her station, she quickly, and carelessly uncrossed her legs giving me a full view. She was never in danger of exposing her panties, they were safely at home where she'd left them.

One more phrase from retail hell

I haven't had to deal with this one in a while....but I always enjoyed the inanity of it.

When referring to your debit machine and wondering which way to swipe their card - "Why do they have to make every machine different?"

Er.....what?!!??

Actually...let me just run a statistical analysis, based on the number of choices, assuming equal distribution of all possible options. ....ok done.... I would say only about 50% of debit machines are different than this one you're trying to use here. You either swipe with the black stripe facing towards the body of the machine, or away from it. 2 choices. Unless this is the second time you've ever used your card, I'm guessing they haven't all been different.

Ok...there are some machines that you swipe across the top, but most you swipe down the side. This isn't really an important distinction, it's pretty obvious where to swipe your card. Unless you were a customer at my old Safeway. Even though the swipey gap was clearly on the side there was a tiny gap between the machine and its mounting bracket that people would frequently try to run their card through. This was despite the fact that the gap was narrower than a card, and despite the fact that forcing their card through the gap actually resulted in the plugs to the back of the machine being disconnected. Yep, despite this, I'd have to reconnect my till's debit machine a couple times per week.

So yeah....they're not "all different".... it would be nice if they put a reader on both sides so the direction you faced the card would be irrelevant, but they don't. And even if they did....there are the people who insist on swiping their cards with the black stripe up in their hand instead of down in the groove in the machine. Maybe you should talk to your bank about putting the magnetic strip on all 8 possible sides of your card, instead of whinging about the machine.

Jeans vs Underwear

One of my coworkers and I were chatting about relationships the other day. She was talking about how, while every relationship is going to have a certain amount of fire and passion in the beginning, eventually that is going to fade and it's the friendship and common bond that you have formed that will keep you with that person over the years.

And I said, "well duh, most failed relationships are like underwear while the successful ones are like jeans."

And she looked at me so confused. And then she thought about it. And then she started talking, and she fleshed it right out. And it's funny...I didn't even think about it before I said it, but I think I hit the nail right on the head. Maybe I'd heard the analogy before....or maybe I'm just a genius. Could go either way really.

But back to the analogy.

A new pair of underwear is a pretty snazzy thing. They always fit so well. If you're a lady, there's a good chance they look really nice and sexy. Heck, if not for public decency laws and your own modesty, you'd probably show everyone you meet your new undies.

The problem with new undies, is that they don't stay new. Right from the first time you wash them little problems start to show up. Maybe a little detergent stain (or worse) so they don't look as nice. Maybe the elastic gets a little stretched out. Maybe a couple holes here and there. Next thing you know, you're looking for a new pair of undies. But that's the thing with undies, they're disposable. You don't have to invest a lot into them and you can get some real quality use out of them. But then when they start to get a bit old, there's nothing better than to just throw them away and get a brand new pair.

I'm sure you've figured out where this is going, but I hate to stop when I'm on a roll.

Jeans are a tricky beast. You can search all over town, check out dozens of pairs, and then come home with one that just feels kinda good. When you look in the mirror, they look pretty good, and your friends will probably admire them, but they're still just little odd when brand new. Maybe you'll even wonder if you should have gotten a different pair.

The magical thing with jeans though, is with time they just get better and better. With each wash they get a little softer and more comfortable. They start to fit a little better. Maybe they don't look as shiny and new as they once did, but everything else about them is better. Eventually, your jeans start to feel like an extension of yourself, and you really can't imagine doing anything without them. Ever pack for a trip without putting your favourite jeans in the suitcase? Probably because you were already planning to wear them en route. You can't imagine ever having to go get a new pair because you know they'll never be as good as the ones you already have.

When you're shopping for clothes, you can tell which one you're buying in advance. It's a little more difficult with relationships. Oh yeah, there are clues here and there, but also it takes a lot of hard work and commitment. Good luck finding your favourite jeans people.

Phrases #3

Lip chap.

"What!!???!!!" you say? "That's not really a phrase, hell....I've never heard that"

Really? Do you not hang out with any 15-30 year old females? Well I feel sorry for you. I however seem to have surrounded myself with this sub-species, and have found this to be a common incorrectly used expression, especially in winter.

An example....
"It's so dry in here, does anyone have any lip chap I can borrow???"

Um....sure, let me just scrape some of the dry chappy skin off of my lips and give it to you....and as far as borrowing it goes....don't worry about it. You can keep it.

The problem is called lip chap.....well...not really even....but for a 15-30 year old female we'll let that slide. The solution to the problem is called chap stick. Or lip gloss. Or blistex. Or....well.....whatever....you get the idea.

Why would you ask for the problem itself when you're actually looking for the solution to the problem?

When you head to the pharmacy wanting your birth controldo you ask the pharmacist "can you help me get an unwanted pregnancy?"
When you go to the garage, and you need an oil change do you ask for a seized engine?
When you're feeling kinda hungry do you head down to the restaurant and ask for a starving Ethiopian fly-baby?

So.....why do people ask for lip chap when they're wanting something for chapped lips?

Body Awareness

Hey boy's and girls!!!1!!! I'm here today to talk (rant) to you about "body awareness". Now I'm not talking about some kind of crazy metaphysical philosophy thing. And I'm sure as hell not talking about that thing where grotesquely obese women check out their genitals in a mirror to confirm their womanly beauty. Ew. Nope....I'm just talking about good old regular body awareness: being aware of where the hell you are putting that meat-bag your brain drives around in.

Do you have a friend or colleague that when you're out in public with always seems to be getting bumped into, or disrupting the flow of traffic around them? If yes, then you're probably fine.

If no.....then you're probably that guy!!! Do you often find yourself just going about your day, minding your own business when ka-pow! someone just plows into you? This might be because you have poor body awareness. Some people just seem to lack this unconscious talent. I'm pretty sure it can't be taught, but maybe with practice you can learn how not to be the equivalent of a blind man trying to cross a NASCAR track.

So yeah, in the end, this post is coming down to a lesson in how to walk properly....but as the Christmas rush gets more and more intense, you're going to see bigger crowds and more and more people having trouble negotiating them.

The most important thing; pay attention to what is going on around you!

For starters....I know there's no law about this, but generally in Canada, walk on the right hand side of things. Hallways, doorways, sidewalks etc. If you just step back a bit and watch, most of the people are walking down their respective right-hand sides, with a few faster walkers passing in the middle space. Works pretty well. At least it does until someone starts going up the left side against the flow. Whether they're British (watch...they walk on the left....) or just not paying attention, they will try to plow their way up the "wrong" side and create chaos in their wake. Like I said, there is no "law", and getting bumped into by a person on the wrong side of things is certainly better than getting hit by a car on the wrong side of the road, but it sure goes better when people are on the same page.

Also, if you're walking down a narrow hallway or sidewalk that is only wide enough for two people, don't walk right down the middle when people are trying to walk past you (in either direction). And if you're walking down said sidewalk/hallway with a friend, side by side.....and someone needs to get by....you're going to have to move to single-file, or move one of you onto the grass. Do not expect the person coming towards you to move....it would be a safer bet to expect them to lower their shoulder and try to hit you right on the chin with it.

And when you're walking somewhere crowded. Don't suddenly stop. I don't care how amazing the bargains are in the store across the hall, if you go from 60-0 in one step, someone is probably going to hit you right in the centre of the back. If you need to stop in a bit of a crowd, just angle off to the side, and you should be able to get out of the fast-moving stuff and stop. It's not that hard. And if for some reason you have stopped in a fast-moving crowd.....whatever you do, don't back up or move straight sideways under any circumstances. Even before you start walking forward again it's a good idea to take a quick look over your shoulder. Once you stop moving, the crowd will basically treat you like a lamp-post. Nobody worries too much about invading the personal space of a lamp-post, so the will walk a whole lot closer to you than if you were moving and there's a high possibility of a collision if you just start out again without looking.

One more thing. Especially during Christmas, you have to also be aware of where your stuff is. Pushing a shopping cart or stroller....carrying a pile of shopping bags? Don't forget to make room for these. Sure you can squeeze down that skinny aisle normally, but you've just doubled your width with those gigantor toys-r-us bags.... think about it. And if you're standing and looking at something on the left-hand side of a shop aisle....don't park your cart/stroller right beside you on the right-hand side. I personally have no qualms against arriving at your cart, taking hold of the handle and motoring off around the corner with it. However, I have no desire to posess your child, or a defend a felony kidnapping charge....so please.....don't block the entire aisle by yourself.

Fun with telemarketers.

I just lost my cool (ok...i know...I never had any cool to lose.....but i can't think of another applicable expression).....on a telemarketer (actually a survey pimp....but whatever). I can't decide if it was funny or if I should be ashamed. I've just really gotten fed up with them....seems like they are the only "people" who call me anymore.

I really should have canceled my landline when I moved here. I sometimes use it for outgoing calls cause the phone itself is a bit easier to hold.....but I really don't make calls very often. As any of my friends know about 90% of my communication is done through text messages. My mom is pretty much the only person I ever want to talk to who calls my home number. Everyone else has my mobile. Much easier.

So yeah....I've been giving telemarket-whores a hard time for a while. Generally I'm respectful, but I don't appreciate their calls and I let them know. If they are polite to me I simply thank them for calling because it makes my decision to go with their competitor who has never bothered me at home that much easier. That usually get's a pretty good reaction. If they are rude, I'm equally rude. If they interrupt me....I mash the keypad and hang up. Pretty simple.

Even worse than the telemarketers, are the survey people. Every time you try to tell them you don't want to play their game, they repeat the same mantra "but sir, we're not selling anything". I don't care. I don't want you to harrass me. I've finally discovered a pretty quick strategy for respectfully getting rid of them. As soon as they say it's a survey I cut in and ask if I will be getting compensated for my answers. At least half the time they have to ask me what I mean.

Me - "I mean that I believe that my opinions are valuable and that I should be compensated with cash for sharing them with you. Are you paying me for my answers?" That's when they say "no" and I say, well call me when you're paying. Of course they still call the next day...and the next day....but it makes it quick....and it's gotta be at least a little frustrating for them.

I know people who will sit there and talk to them for ages. Ask them about the weather, how their kids are doing....blah blah blah. I guess the thought is that time is money and if you waste their time you cost them money. I'll admit that I've never bothered to look it up, but I'm pretty sure a pharmacist gets paid a bit more than a telemarketer....therefore, not worth my time. Also, I generally can't stand small talk with real humans, so why would I waste my witty banter on some faceless, spineless, bloodsucker?

So yeah....I'm not really sure what got into me tonight....but when my phone rang and it was one of those out of province numbers that just look wrong....I decided to take action. It was about 9:15pm and I remember when I was a kid, my parents would always go ballistic when our friends called after 9.....so I quickly decided on my technique.

Me - "Hello (pause....pause....pause...now annoyed...) Hello?"

TM - "Hello?" (why do they always sound surprised....like i called them or something....?)

Me - "Hi!" (....extra-special annoyed voice)

TM - "Good evening, I'm so-and-so calling from Shit-for-brains marketing....."

Me - "Excuse me! Are you seriously calling me after 9 at night for a survey?"

TM - (oblivious) "Yes sir, we're not trying to sell you anything, we're a marketing firm and we'd just like to ask you a few questions, it will only take about 15minutes"

Me - "You stupid bitch, I've got kids that are trying to sleep and you're ringing my phone in the middle of the night on a school night....don't ever call this number again!"

TM - "Er....um....."
(i hang up)


So yeah....pretty much a lie. The puppies were actually asleep....but they don't go to school in the morning. And I probably shouldn't have called her a bitch. But it was kinda fun too. So....I guess it balances out.

Phrases that drive me nuts!

I'm sure everyone has a bunch of sayings and expressions that just drive them nuts. Whether they're illogical, nonsensical, redundant, or just too frequently used you just cringe whenever you hear someone use them. As a pharmacist, dealing with the public it seems you get exposed to them at a higher rate than maybe someone who isn't on the front lines with people all day, so here's some of mine.

"No problem"

As a reply to "thank you" from a store clerk this one is infuriating. You're right it's "no problem". It's your freaken job. If it is a problem for you to do your job, perhaps you should look into a new one. Oh...you mean you weren't being a jerk? Then the correct response to thank you, is....."You're Welcome!"

Or, in pharmacy when I would tell people their prescription would be 10 minutes or so.... "no problem".... Oh? Should I be expecting a problem when telling people a perfectly reasonable wait time for their drugs? The correct response is "thanks, I'll check back then", rather than what is basically a vague threat that if the time had not have been satisfactory than there would have been a "problem"

"Everything Happens for a Reason"
Yeah....It's called cause and effect. The reason this happened is because you or someone else did something that set the ball rolling and caused it to happen. The reason is not "god's will", "karma" or any of that garbage....although it could be "entropy".

"Can I ask you just a quick question?"
In pharmacy, there is no such thing as a quick question. Unless it's not actually about pharmacy related things, in which case I'd be more annoyed that you wasted 10 seconds of my time on .... toilet paper, watermelon, bus tickets..... than if you'd spent 10 minutes on diabetes questions.

"God Bless"
I seem to get this one a lot as a mixed thank-you/good-bye at the end of phone consultations. Mostly with old ladies, but the occasional younger person too. Why exactly would I want the blessing of your god? I'm sure they don't mean anything by it....kinda like when old ladies say that the lady down the hall "is really nice even though I think she's chinese"....but still. I'm not "offended" by it, and I'm also not offended by "God" being in the national anthem etc....but I bet she would be mighty offended if let's say a Satanist pharmacist at Safeway answered the phone

"Thanks for calling Safeway pharmacy, Damian speaking, Hail Satan!!!!".

"But Ren", you say, "there's a difference".... Um....no, actually...there isn't. Or, since I don't know any satanic pharmacists personally, how bout if the phone was answered "Assalam alaikum". I would bet that the pharmacist greeting non-Muslims like that would most likely receive a complaint at some point. But for some reason it's ok for people to slap me in the side of the head with a "god bless" whenever they feel like it.

"Sorry to bother you, but....."
For starters. Even if it's 5 minutes to closing, I'm still getting paid to help you out...so don't be sorry. Ask your question and let's all get out of here.
The one exception.... Christmas (or other holidays). Don't tell me how sorry you are that I'm working. If you felt bad about my store being open, you wouldn't be there. Yes, if we weren't open, you couldn't be there.....but if we were open all day and nobody came, we sure as heck wouldn't be open next year. So you're not helping.

"It's a small world"
No, it's not. It's actually pretty big. But for some reason whenever people run into each other it's a small world. For starters, you know too many people. When you start small-worlding cause you ran into your second cousin's ex-wife, you might have a problem. And really, despite there being millions of places to go, people from similar backgrounds with similar experiences (that's why you know them) tend to cluster around the same places. You don't keep running into your old neighbour from Swift Current, Saskatchewan at a Red Lobster in calgary because it's a small world. You keep running into them because both of you have horrible taste in restaurants.

"Just put your John Henry on there"
I think/hope you mean "John Hancock". The guy who signed his name really big on the US declaration of independence, making his name synonymous with signatures. Not John Henry who is well known in american folk songs as a "Steel Driving Man". Of course you wouldn't actually know that since you think Leadbelly is the tummy-ache you get after a couple too many Jagerbombs. I would have to assume that "putting my john henry on there" would actually involve me swinging a sledge hammer through your counter. This could be arranged if you prefer.

"that thing that's going around"
People are always coming in asking for whatever is best for "that thing that's going around". Like there's only 1 disease in all of Calgary at a time. Or they come in, sick and ask if there's "something going around". There's always "something" going around you fool. A whole bunch of things. We had 3 cases of malaria at the hospital here a couple weeks ago....I should have given all these people malaria pills. Or, how bout you tell me how your "thing" is affecting you and we can just treat you and not what you perceive to be the beginning of an epidemic.


Well that's probably enough rage for now. Let me know what you think, or put your own most hated phrases in the comments. Maybe I'll make this an ongoing series.

My New Favourite TV Show

A few of my friends have come to know me as the guy they count on to introduce them to all kinds of crazy stuff that they maybe wouldn't have found on their own. Sure I'll take suggestions from my friends, but then I feed it through my very particular "Coolness Filter" and only pass the word if it meets my standards. This is unlike your Aunt that just got email and keeps forwarding you email after email of cats doing cute things, and "SUPER EMERGENCY DRUG RECALL WARNINGS" about PPA (which was pulled from the market in Canada about 8 years ago now).

So yeah. Past successes for me, in various mediums

• The Ricky Gervais Show (podcasts)
  
• Flight of the Conchords (The best Band/TV show/Radio Show out of NZ)
  
• The World At War (The greatest WWII docu EVER)
• Coupling (Via Matty - thanks....like Friends...but not shitty)

So yeah. I'm sure there are others. But those ones have been a hit with everyone I've shown them to. Now off to my newest find. It's called "No Heroics". It's a sitcom about a group of not very talented superheroes, mostly focusing on their down-time in the pub. It's a bit hard to describe, kinda like all super-cool awesome things. But seriously, check it out. I've been able to find most of the episodes on youtube (in parts) or BitTorrent (intact). It's currently in it's first run on ITV2 in England, and they've only committed to one season (6 episodes). Hopefully they make some more.




Lemme know what you think.

Learn about people by watching them in their natural habitats

A couple people (ok...one) have asked me why my facebook status (actually from Twitter) reads "Just about had to strangle an old man at Mac's".

Well kids, ol' Ren has got a story for you. Anthropologists have known for years that one of the best ways to learn about a culture is to actually immerse yourself into it. (I learned this by taking an anthropology class in university, not by disguising myself and hanging out with actual anthropologists). Unfortunately they have also found that it is pretty much impossible to observe a culture without affecting it by your presence. For example, strangling the subject. Or giving them small pox. Either of which I probably would have subjected the man at the Macs store to, if only I hadn't been wearing my hospital photo ID around my neck on a lanyard.

"So Ren", you ask, "what exactly did this guy do that has you so upset?". Well, let me tell you. A couple work-friends and myself headed over to Mac's to grab a snack during our coffee break. We collected our poisons of choice and got in line. There was a bit of a line-up with a father-son team at the front, followed by an old man with a walker and an old woman with one of those strollers for dogs that should have never been bred. I think it even had a cat in it. I'm not sure what is weirder, taking your cat for a walk in a stroller, or owning a dog that needs to get carried everywhere.

So yeah, it turns out the old man and old woman were together, so the line wasn't really that bad. Especially for them, since they were second in line. However this apparently wasn't quick enough for gramps so he demanded that the man in front of him hurry up and move so he could put his purchases on the counter. This is barely acceptable under any circumstances, for one, you ask, you don't just tell someone to hurry up and move. And also it's not like the man actually could move.... he was RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS TRANSACTION WITH THE FUCKING CASHIER!!! Yes. Not only did this old piece of shit man tell off a guy in front of his teen-aged son, but he did it for nothing. The dude was waiting for his change. I mean, yeah...you're in a hurry....you're gonna die a whole lot sooner than the rest of us, since you're so old, and you apparently have some anger management issues which I've been told don't help to extend your life much. But chill the fuck out.

So dad kinda tells him off right back, and old dude heaves him another heap of incoherent bullshit. So dad tells him he's just going to have to wait his turn, since he's not leaving without finishing his purchase, and the old dude starts ranting to his wife. While he complains about "the nerve of some people" and my work friends and I watch the father-son team leave the store, a woman strolls up to the cashier and makes a purchase, jumping over the entire line-up. Old grumpy pants finally turns and even though I'm sure it would be impossible for him not to notice that there is a different person in front of him than before, says nothing. What the hell. I think it's time for a dose adjustment.

So finally it's his turn and he starts unloading grocery items from his walker onto the counter. The cashier simply asks him "are you sure you have money this time?". I love it. In one simple statement the cashier lets us all know that this nut-job is not only senile, but on social assistance as well. Fantastic. So since I have nothing else to do I look at what the guy is buying. Milk, eggs, bread....etc. All groceries. You know....the kind of stuff that you get from a grocery store, because convenience stores charge waaaaaay too much for them. Oh but this guy doesn't need to price-watch, I can tell by his scruffy beard and worn-out jogging pants that he is incredibly successful and just doesn't need to fuss over the nickels and dimes like us regular working-folk. I mean, I've picked up a jug of milk at the convenience store more than a few times. Sometimes it's just easier or quicker, or on-the-way, or whatever. But who actually does their grocery shopping there?

Oh yeah, people on social assistance, and other folks who damn-well can't afford to. I mean, everyone has to make a trip to 7/11 or whatever for the necessities every now and then, but if you're ever there while someone seems to be doing their entire weekly shopping trip you can bet they're not wearing a suit. Heck, they're probably not even wearing clean clothes. Nope, for some reason the people that you see paying twice as much for the essentials are the ones who can barely afford the essentials at regular price. I would not be surprised if the same type of bad decision making that leads to doing your main grocery shopping at Mac's is the same type of decision making that led to you being on the receiving end of my tax dollars in the first place.

So yeah, the cashier gets done scanning and bagging everything and the dude pays. Then he loads his bags back into his walker. Then he stands and chats with his wife about what they're going to do next. Notice I didn't say anything about him actually moving away from the counter. The cashier gestures to me to pass my drinks over the side of the till to him so he can start ringing me through. I quip "yeah, I guess I'll just pass these over, rather than yelling at the people in front of me, hey...". I complete my entire transaction with gramps and wifey still in the way. "But Ren," you say, "cut them some slack, they're old and slow". I say they forfeited their right to any slack when they told off some dude for nothing (in front of his fucking kid), and then proceed to do exactly what they accused him of.

Old folks always talk about how young people "have no respect". Yeah...no shit. Where do you think they learned it. Oh sure, their grandparents might be sweet as pie. But it's not hard to get the wrong idea about the aged when you go into the Mac's store with your dad to get a slurpee and he gets told off for no fucking reason. Gee. I bet that kid is gonna head right down to the nursing home and read some books out loud for some of the old biddies.

Maybe the reason anthropologist have so much trouble observing without intervening is because they have to see stupid shit like this. I just wish I didn't have my ID on display. I'm sure it's too late to teach that old dog some new tricks so strangling probably wouldn't have helped. I guess it would have had to be small pox.

Relief night at SDM

First off....I'm a sucker. I agreed about a month ago to do a relief shift at my old SDM. I don't really "need" the money, but more money is always nice.

"Mo' money, mo' tacos"

Right.....

So yeah. A month ago it seemed like a really good idea to do this shift. As the day drew closer I started looking forward to it less and less. First off, my Sunday night hockey started up a week earlier than I had planned, so I had to miss my first ice time. Also I had to work at the hospital the next day at 7am and that's really craptastic after working till midnight (or midnite) in retail hell.

Also making me dread the shift before even stepping through the door was a call that I'd got a couple days prior from my old coworkers warning me that I might not have a tech for my shift. A year or so ago, when I was regularly working at SDM I could have handled that. But I haven't "counted pills" in basically a year. And that is the one skill valued above all others in retail pharmacy. I've worked a few shifts here and there, but always with a tech, and never at a store as routinely busy as my old haunt. I think I was right to be worried.

So, I got there, and as it turned out, they had found me a tech. That was good. What was less good was the identity of that tech. When I still worked there, she and I had a run-in or 3. I even made her cry once (or twice). Those of you who know me probably can't imagine me actually making someone cry. But it's happened a couple times, to a couple different techs. The names have changed, but the situation has generally been the same.

New tech starts.

New tech doesn't receive enough training

New tech is made to function on their own despite lack of training

Tech does stupid things.

Ren gets mad.

Tech does more stupid things.

Ren gets madder.

Tech says and does a whole bunch of stupid things in a flurry of insanity, ignorance, and incompetence.

Ren (with trade-mark pink face and head) calmly tells them that they have done and said way too many insane, ignorant and incompetant things in way too short a period of time and that he finds their performance unacceptable and that they need to improve in a hurry.

Tech crys and hides in the staff room until Ren's face/head no longer looks like a balding giant pink gum-ball.

Of course there was also one time that a tech placed a basket of drugs to check on top of a different patient's order that I was working on, and I threw her basket on the floor in a bit of a rage. Isn't it just my luck that I was working with that tech. Fortunately though, at the time of the basket-throwing incident, I realized I was wrong, and I had apologized. I think because of this, I had zero tech-related problems during my shift.

Of course this would be a pretty boring blog-post if I didn't have any good stories for you. That's where the customers come in. I hate customers. I like patients. This is why I left retail for the hospital. It is possible to have some patients in community pharmacy practice, however they are definitely the minority. Especially at a SDM on a sunday night. You are not an "integral member of the health-care team". You are the 7/11 of medication. You are open when the place the customer would rather go is closed. The people coming in aren't there because they respect YOU for your knowledge, and expertise and empathy, they're there because they left their shit until the last minute and you just happen to be open. (Wow - I just used all three of there/their/they're in one sentence....correctly no less). That's not a patient. That's a customer.

The first customers that I noticed were a nice couple with the most amazing german accents ever. I'm talking 1950's WWII movie accents. I'm still not sure what they were looking for, but they were at least nice. After all my years working in the NE, I can understand Indian-accented english no problem. But european accents just kill me.

Next customer of note was there to pick up some heart medication for his 5(ish) year old daughter. That would have been all kinds of wonderful if he had thought to call ahead. Problem is, 5 year olds don't get the same dose of heart medication as 50 year olds. Oh yeah, problem 2 is that 5 year olds don't make up a very large percentage of the heart medication market so there are no pre-made pills or syrups for them. So while Dad waited, my tech had to compound up some liquid atenolol for his little girl. When I went to check her work, I noticed that the drug file for the liquid was set up wrong and she was going to get the wrong dose.

Whoever had made the drug file had accidentally check-marked one extra box on the recipe. Just one little box. What could that possibly do? Well, this little box "locks" the quantity of an ingredient for a mixture so that no matter what volume you dispense, you use the same amount of that ingredient. For something like concentrated flavourings this is useful because 2-3 drops of flavour works just as well in a 50ml bottle as it does in a 500ml bottle. However it's not appropriate for the active ingredient. While 2x50mg tablets of atenolol in 50mls makes a nice 2mg/ml liquid, it is no longer a 2mg/ml liquid when you increase the volume to 100ml but still only use 2 tablets. In fact the patient would be getting 1/2 the proper dose. This might be ok for most things....but for a drug that's supposed to keep a 5 year old's heart from exploding....it's pretty unacceptable.

So now I've got Dad waiting, and I'm scrambling like a madman to fix this, and to decide if they'd been given the right stuff in the first place. It turns out that they had.....it was only with increasing the volume for the refill that the error in the drug file showed up. But it's a pretty big error, and I hate to say it, it's one that a lot pharmacists might have missed. Way to go me. Of course Dad was just pissed off that it took so long.

I didn't even see my next customer of note. She was calling in because she had brought in a prescription the night before and the pharmacist on duty got a message that her coverage was terminated. Generally drug insurance issues don't clear themselves up on weekends so I asked how I could help her. She said we must have the wrong numbers on file because her regular pharmacy has no problem with insurance (see how wonderful late-night drug-peddling is), and that I should call them and get her coverage numbers and bill things for her, or I should transfer the script there. Thinking that if we've already taken the time to get her prescription on file we might as well get paid for filling it, I called her pharmacy and asked if they'd share her info. Really they're under no obligation to do this. It's her insurance, and she should have provided us with the up-to-date card so we could bill it in the first place, but I asked nicely and they said they would help out. Well I give her name, and they can't find her on file. I thank them and assume that she told me the wrong store.

I call her back and after a chorus of about 5 people answering the phone one after each other "hello?" "hello!" "hello?" "hello!" "hello?" I got through to the correct person. I told her that "her" pharmacy didn't seem to have her on file and inquired as to whether she gave me the wrong store's info. She then informed me that she has a different last name at the other store and that is probably why they couldn't find her. I told her that it was not "probably" the reason.....it was THE REASON.

I called her pharmacy again and this time they were able to find her file. Funny what using only one name will do for efficiency. They then quoted me the exact same insurance info that I had on file. I'd had enough. I transferred them the prescription. I called and told her that. Since I don't work at her pharmacy I was completely unaware that they close at 6:00pm on sundays and it was already 5:50pm. At least I would claim to be unaware if it ever came up.

My next issue was a problem with a doctor. For the patient he'd ordered a compound of two different creams mixed together. Unfortunately he didn't seem to think it was important to let us in on the secret ratio of the two creams that he had wanted them to get. Since the prescription was dated over a month ago I didn't really go easy on the customer either. "I can't wait till tomorrow, I need it tonight". Gee bud. Maybe you should have brought it in sometime in the last 5 weeks and we could have had this sorted out already. But you instead decided to hold onto it until 8pm on a Sunday night. S.O.L. pal. We'll call in the morning.

My last annoying customer of the night was a woman that I could just tell was in a bad mood as soon as I saw her. She just had that body language that screams "stay out of my way". So of course I hustle up to the counter to help her out. Or maybe I took my time and finished off some filing leaving her to stew for a bit. Negative body language from you results in passive-aggressive retaliation from me. So I finally meander my way up to her and she asks for a prescription for her son. I take a quick look in the new-fills in the drawer and there was nothing there. I look him up on the computer and ask her what is meant to be ready since he hasn't had anything filled in 3 weeks. She says "it's his adderal....we got it a month ago and you didn't have enough". Ah....adderal. For ADD. I'm sure there are dozens of wonderful, patient caring parents whose children suffer from ADD. Unfortunately the stereotypical ADD-kid's mom tends to be a high-strung, multi-tasking, cell-phone-chatting, talking before thinking bitch. So I thanked her for now mentioning that she was picking up an owing and proceeded to quickly find his package.

She then started complaining that her daughter had come in earlier in the day to pick it up along with another prescription but "YOU didn't give it to her". I agreed that I most likely did not give anything to her daughter because I hadn't seen her daughter since my shift started at 4pm, and actually hadn't seen her since I worked there last over a year ago. She corrected herself and shifted the blame from me personally to "you guys". Much better. Psycho! But it didn't matter that much because it was one of us, and her daughter didn't get what she asked for and someone should be punished for that because mommy had to come out at 11pm for no good reason. So then, because I felt like pissing her off as much as possible, and since she is the type to make it really easy for me we had this conversation....

Ren - "So... you're saying that you're upset with us because your daughter came in for two prescriptions earlier, but she only came home with one?"

ADD-Mom - "That's right, it's not the first time that this has happened and this is totally unacceptable."

Ren - "So, you're saying that your daughter came in here expecting two things to be given to her, and she did not notice when she was only given one?"

ADD-Mom - "It's not like she checked the bag, she shouldn't have to"

Ren - "Ma'am, I'm not sure if she forgot to ask, or if we did forget to give it to her, but if your daughter is unable to count to two it would probably be best to not send her in alone for your family's medications in the future."

I thought she was going to spray me with goo after her eyeballs exploded out of her head. Instead she just grabbed the bag from my hand and stomped out.

Seriously....there's one person to blame here. And they're not employed by the store. It's not like we dropped 499 different items on the counter for her instead of 500. And it's not like a fast food drive through where you feel bad checking your bag in front of the window because some psycho ADD-Mom in a minivan is behind you honking because her ritalin-babies are starving. "Move your ass! Ritalin baby hungy! Ritalin baby hungy!"

Nope....this is like going up to the bar and asking for 2 bottles of Pilsner. When they come back to you with your beer, you pull out your fancy counting fingers and hold 2 of them up and compare the number of fingers to the number of bottles. If the number of fingers matches the number of bottles, then you happily pay your money and enjoy your beer. If they only give you one beer then you sulk off with your tail between your legs and tell your mommy that the mean people at the bar wouldn't give you two. Then you cry a bit and say "me hungy!" until mommy makes it all better. Or you grow up a little bit and say, "Excuse me my good man, I asked you for a quantity of beers that match the number of fingers that I am holding up. However I seem to have fewer beers than this and would like you to remedy the situation post-haste." Then you happily drink your beers and go home. Easy.

It's good to work a shift in retail every now and then. It very quickly reminds me why I don't do more.

Up. Down. Really that's all there is.

Working in my office at the hospital for my two weeks of clinical time, I get to ride the elevator a lot. My office is on the 10th floor (of 12) but most of my patients are on the 3rd. Or on the 4th floor in the next building over. I could take the stairs, and I usually do when heading down, no matter how far, but 10 floors up is a bit much for me.

Despite all the practice I've been getting using an elevator since starting here, I don't think I've improved my elevator skills any. I haven't developed any secret techniques that make my elevator use seem effortless while the general population struggles. This isn't throwing a 50yd touchdown pass people. It's not playing the Super Mario Brothers theme song on a ukelele. I really don't think there is any skill involved whatsoever. But for some reason, the elevator seems to just confuse the hell out of some people.

"But Ren!", you say, "isn't an elevator a fancy machine with lots of computers and moving parts and cutting edge technology?" Ok, sure, behind the scenes. We're not building an elevator. We're not even repairing the elevator. We are just riding the elevator. How difficult is that? Let's see.

What can you do when riding an elevator?

1. Get in
2. Push buttons
3. Get out

That's it. Three freaken things that you can do with an elevator. That's not so hard is it. "But Ren!", you say, "there's lots of other stuff you can do with an elevator". Ok, sure, you can push other buttons. You can use the emergency phone. You can kill your prison guards in a courthouse in Memphis and then peel one of their faces off and wear it as a disguise, and hide his body on top of the elevator car. However, don't. That's all. Just don't. Simply get on. Push the button you need. Wait. Get off. Don't push any other buttons. Don't try to order a fucking pizza with the emergency phone. Don't kill anyone and wear their face as a mask. Easy.

"But Ren!", you say "what if they've pushed the button to call the elevator and nothing's happening?" First off, do you know nothing is happening? When you pushed the button did it light up? Of course it did, that's what the buttons do here. That light tells you that something is, in fact, happening. Was the button already lit when you pressed it? Well for starters, why the hell would you press it again? It's already lit. Do you think that your extra press will make it come faster? Are you stupid. Do you have some kind of OCD? Do you stand at crosswalks and pound on that button 40-50 times to make sure you get a walk light? Did you forget to take your meds this morning? If I had any control over the elevators, I would write in a little program in the computer that would make 1 elevator car skip your floor for every extra button press. This of course has the potential to terrorize the poor people in the elevator who want to go to that floor as their elevator keeps skipping over it, never letting them off as idiots stand on their floor mashing the call-elevator button.

Also on the topic of the call elevator button. If they give you the option of a down button and an up button, just press the direction you need. If you want to go to a lower floor press down. Higher floor press up. It's easy to make this distinction by looking at the numbers and using all of your Sesame Street skills decide which you need. When you press the other button, it's not actually a secret "get the elevator faster" prize. It just makes an extra car, going the wrong direction come to a stop, and open the door, while all the people look around to see who's getting off, and then when no-one does, one of the OCD imbeciles starts pounding the Close door button and off it goes again. You still don't have an elevator ride, and if that was going to be your ride on the flip-side, you just delayed the process. Nice work speedy.

Oh yeah. If the fire alarm is ringing. Take the stairs. Number one rule of not becoming charcoal is: don't ride the elevator in a fire. If you can't take the stairs, wait for help. It's a hospital. Trust me, we're not allowed to just leave without you.


Alright, next topic. The buttons inside the elevator car. You've got a few more options than the up/down buttons on the outside, but really, there's just one that you need. Push your floor. Here at the hospital it's pretty easy. The units are numbered in 10's and the first digit is the floor number. The units 101/112/ are on the 10th and 11th floors respectively. Not too hard. It's a bit trickier when heading back down again. Do you want "M" or "G" or "B"? OMG, how confusing. I bet those letters don't actually stand for anything and were just randomly thrown on the menu. How will I ever know where I'm supposed to go? The easiest way is to just pay attention to what floor you started on. But...that requires planning, and short-term-memory and basic intellegence, so we'll ignore that one.

• M stands for Main. This is the "main" floor of the hospital. Nothing too confusing about that. Being the "main" floor, it contains the main entrance and exit to the hospital. Honestly, you probably started out here.
• G stands for Ground. In some buildings G stands for garage. I suppose that could be confusing to you. But since you didn't get out of your car in a garage and immediately take the elevator from the garage itself, you can be pretty safe thinking that this isn't the meaning of the G. the ground floor is 1/2 in and 1/2 out of the ground. It's like a walk-out basement, but without the 50 inch plasma TV. Instead, there's a cafeteria. With cafeteria food. If you were wanting to go back to your car, you should have hit M. If you were wanting food, you probably still should have hit M, gotten in your car and driven somewhere with better food.
• B stands for Basement. You probably don't want to go there. It's a clammy, dark, cold hallway. The only things down here are the morgue, and the hospital's pharmacy. That is why the only people on the elevator pressing B are kind of pale and anti-social. Do not join them.

Also, when you get on the elevator, don't assume that the other people on there are going to the same place as you. Your aunt mabel is one hell of a lady, but not everyone is going to unit 32 to go visit her. See that pasty, pale guy with the ipod? He's heading to the morgue. In the basement. You want to go home? Make sure M is pressed, or you're heading down to the basement with him.

Also inside the car we have the open/close door buttons. These are indicated with symbols that look kinda like this.

• Open Door <>
• Close door ><

If someone is rushing to catch the elevator and you don't know which is which, don't just stab one, cause you're probably hitting the close door one, and making yourself look like an asshole. If you really want to help the guy, just stick your arm into the door opening. It won't crush you, it probably won't even touch you. There's a sensor in there so it doesn't shut if something is in the way. If you're in a big hurry and too busy to wait for the guy, just look at the buttons kinda confused and hover your hand above them like you're figuring it out, just not quick enough, while the door slams in their face. Then you don't actually look like an asshole, even though you are one.

Also, here at the hospital, the close door button actually works. Unlike 95% of elevators that include that button just to give the OCD people something to do, the ones here start to close when you press it. That means, don't hit the fucking button until people are all the way through the door. You know those sensors, they seem to get partially over-ridden when you hit the button. It won't let you crush anyone to death, but it usually will keep going till it makes pretty solid contact before opening again.

Ok, so that's the buttons. Not too hard. To summarize the buttons.

• call elevator to go up or down by pressing appropriate button.
• ONCE!!!
• press the button for the floor of your destination
• you should probably just leave the Close Door button alone
• If you really must press it, make sure there is nobody going through the door
• Don't touch anything else

That's it. That's all.

Ok, now for the next part. Getting in/out. "But Ren!", you say, "why even bother talking about this, how could anyone screw this up?" Oh, people screw this up. Big-time. The first mistake people make is trying to get into the elevator before the people exiting have gotten out. There is a relatively limited space in the elevator. As well the door often creates a bit of a bottle-neck. Have you ever had a completely full glass of water but decided you want beer in it instead? Do you just pour the beer in and let it push the water out of the way? Of course not you drunkard! Same thing, just wait slightly off to the side and let the damn people off, then get on. If I'm getting off the elevator and you're standing right in the middle of the doorway starting to head in, I will not walk around you. I will hit you right in the chest with my shoulder. I'm not a muscle-head. But I am 6'2" and about 190lbs. I play hockey. I know how to put a shoulder into someones chest. Would you like to try?

Also on the topic of getting in. Go through the door, press the button for your floor and move to the back. Ok, if you're getting out in 3-4 floors maybe just pick a place along the side wall, about 1/2-way to the back. Do not stand right in the middle. And do not hit your floor and then stand right beside the bank of buttons. If you do this, three things can happen. Firstly, people may just shout out their floors to you, and you will be expected to hit the buttons for them. Or, since most people would rather not talk to anyone on an elevator, they will probably elbow past you and hit the buttons themselves. Or third, if you're a moderately hot chick, they might try to hit the buttons themselves, but "accidentally" give you a little grope on the way. Whoops! Heh heh. Boobies. It's not always possible to organize the people in the elevator by floor, but if you're riding to the top, maybe try to get near the back, and if you're getting off soon, try to stay near the front. Also, if the elevator is already full, don't get in. I know you're really important. Can't take the time to wait for the next one. But you can't defy the laws of physics and just squeeze in. If there's no room, there's no room.

And if you're only going 1 floor. Don't get on at all. Unless you have a handicap sticker on your car do not violate the elevator with your lazy ass. Especially if you are only going 1 floor down. If you need to go only 1 floor down, you can fall that without getting hurt. Come to the stairs and I will show you. There should be a rule that you aren't allowed to go less than 2 floors up or 4 floors down without showing some evidence of physical handicap.

If there's someone trying to get on in a wheelchair, or with a walker, or IV pole, try to organize yourself close to the other people and let them in. It's a hospital god-damn it. Maybe even let them in first and then organize around them instead of making them plow into the crowd of you. Wouldn't that be sweet of you.

Getting out, seems to be less difficult, but people still seem to have trouble. Pay attention to the display in the elevator, when it says your floor, get out. If you're stuck near the back wait to see who else is moving, and then say "excuse me" if you need people to get out of the way, and get out. Don't start saying "excuse me" before the elevator stops. If the person directly in front of you is also getting out you seem like a bit of a douche. It's like honking at the guy in front of you as soon as the light changes. Give the person a second. Also, do not just start shoving your way out. If there are people between you and the door not moving, ask them nicely to get out of your way. Basic human decency. Not too difficult.

That's it. How to use an elevator in a couple simple steps. Why is it so difficult for you people? To summarize....

HOW TO USE AN ELEVATOR

1. Press button to call elevator
2. Get on
3. Press button for floor
4. Wait
5. Get off

That's it. Not that fucking hard, now is it. The problems seem to arise from a basic lack of common sense, good manners and simple patience. Well, get over it.

It's big? Really? I hadn't noticed.

I'm just winding down one of my wonderful weekends of work at the hospital tonight, and it's not so bad...but there's one thing that really gets old in a hurry.

Just about every night shift I bring in one of my insulated 7-11 mugs full of diet pepsi. And they're pretty bigs mugs. The Xtreme gulp one is apparently 52oz of awesomeness and the G-Force one appears to be about the same, however with no claimed size on the side.

But really....does everyone at work need to comment every time I come through the door with these? I get it. It's pretty big. It's a lot of pop. I should be drinking water. Yes, I have to pee a lot. Yes, you would probably have to pee a lot.

Enough already. I don't take it upon myself to give my opinion about my coworkers' mousy hair, crooked teeth, questionable body odor, or bewildering fashion choices (argyle sweater with seersucker pants FTL).

I don't comment on your addiction to coffee that has you running to the Good Earth shop for yet another $4 concoction that I have no desire to understand. Maybe I should come along when you go up to order coffee and then make fun of whatever the fuck it is that you order. Good idea except my short-term memory can't handle that many quasi-italian words at once and it would just come out as gibberish.

Ok, so, seriously....let's talk about something else. My dog. My curry addiction. My Vespa. My love of videogames. My incredibly tiny penis (if you need to talk about something that is an abnormal size). Just no more about the gulp.

Thanks



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Now playing: Frank Zappa - Sexual Harassment In The Workplace
via FoxyTunes

Happy Canada Day

Happy Canada Day everyone! Do you know why we celebrate Canada Day every year on July 1st? No?... oh...well let me tell you.

Primarily it is a celebration of the adoption of O' Canada as our national anthem in 1980. Prior to this, the Canadian national anthem was "God Save the King" from 1867 until 1969 when it was replaced by "These Eyes" by The Guess Who?. While the government took heavy criticism for replacing "God Save the King" with a "Pop Song", they struck down all dissent by arguing that the King had been dead since 1952, and the smooth harmonies and beautiful instrumentation of The Guess Who? was something that all Canadians could really get behind. Except for the French.

Also, it is a celebration of the birth-date of one of our greatest citizens and cultural ambassadors, Pamela Anderson. You might remember her as the star of the blockbuster motion picture "Barb Wire" (a cutting-edge Casablanca remake), the hit television program "VIP", and the homemade video "Pam and Tommy Go For a Boat Ride and Some Stuff Happens".

July 1st is also "Moving Day" in Quebec. A lot of people in Quebec don't actually enjoy being part of Canada so they like to do their own thing on certain national occasions. Moving day is an annual temper-tantrum where-by the French-speaking portion of our nation hold their collective breath and stamp their collective feet and threaten to move back to France unless the rest of the nation gives-in to their demands. Since they have no specific demands, other than that their speeding tickets in Alberta be presented to them bilingually, Moving Day generally passes without major incident.

So there you have it kids. The story of Canada Day.