Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Detroit Automotive Meltdown: Awkward Moments from Tova
Detroit Automotive Meltdown: Awkward Moments from Tovajavascript:void(0)
Awkward Moments from Tova
One of my new favorite blogs is Tova aka "The Secret Life of Tova Darling". She uses an alias. This is totally understood as I use some caution, not enough, and do not put some true stories on the blog no matter how hilarious they are. People could figure it out. And trust me some are rolling on the floor your stomach hurts so bad funny.
Well, I can't put the whole story of my awkward moment on this blog-if anyone read it they would immediately know all the parties involved.
See, there was this guy that was kinda whacko. He worked with me and the irritation level was high. He irritated everyone. And he had a very strange appearance problem. It was about his clothing. Enough said. Everyone commented on it including his superiors. He was oblivious.
Well to understand where this is going you have to understand Plant Loco. It is all about nicknames. And I am the queen of nicknames. The first time I was there one of my hi-lo drivers introduced himself to me as Little Man. No shit, he walked up to me and said, "Hi, I am your hi-lo driver for ### and my name is Little Man." The dude was in his sixties and 4 foot tall. I am not kidding. Musta weighed 60 pounds. So nicknames were everywhere. And naturally we gave one to the whacko.
During one of my many cell phone changes I had to program the numbers in by hand. I used nicknames. Some people I only knew by their nicknames. I even put nicknames on expense reports. So anyway, one day this customer that worked closely with the whacko asks me call whacko on my cell phone for him. I dialed it up and handed him the phone. "Whoa, this is what you call him?" Customer is on the floor laughing and I am praying he doesn't tell others about this little snafu.
Funnies of the day: Further Plant Loco anomalies
Plant Loco is a very diverse plant with a fifty-fifty split racially. I am called down to the line with a defective part problem. I ask the operator where the part is. He tells me the repairman has it. I ask where the repairman is. He tells me there is a black guy halfway down the line. Well, fuck me, somewhere about 8 or 9 hundred feet away is a black guy.
Another time this brain dead sorting company I hired is telling everyone that I have a defective part. In questioning her I am getting zero feedback. Where is the vehicle? The short guy with glasses has it. Everyone wears safety glasses in this plant, and we have always thought that short was a job requirement. We eliminated 1 guy out of 1500. Very short, but he never wore his glasses.
Well, I can't put the whole story of my awkward moment on this blog-if anyone read it they would immediately know all the parties involved.
See, there was this guy that was kinda whacko. He worked with me and the irritation level was high. He irritated everyone. And he had a very strange appearance problem. It was about his clothing. Enough said. Everyone commented on it including his superiors. He was oblivious.
Well to understand where this is going you have to understand Plant Loco. It is all about nicknames. And I am the queen of nicknames. The first time I was there one of my hi-lo drivers introduced himself to me as Little Man. No shit, he walked up to me and said, "Hi, I am your hi-lo driver for ### and my name is Little Man." The dude was in his sixties and 4 foot tall. I am not kidding. Musta weighed 60 pounds. So nicknames were everywhere. And naturally we gave one to the whacko.
During one of my many cell phone changes I had to program the numbers in by hand. I used nicknames. Some people I only knew by their nicknames. I even put nicknames on expense reports. So anyway, one day this customer that worked closely with the whacko asks me call whacko on my cell phone for him. I dialed it up and handed him the phone. "Whoa, this is what you call him?" Customer is on the floor laughing and I am praying he doesn't tell others about this little snafu.
Funnies of the day: Further Plant Loco anomalies
Plant Loco is a very diverse plant with a fifty-fifty split racially. I am called down to the line with a defective part problem. I ask the operator where the part is. He tells me the repairman has it. I ask where the repairman is. He tells me there is a black guy halfway down the line. Well, fuck me, somewhere about 8 or 9 hundred feet away is a black guy.
Another time this brain dead sorting company I hired is telling everyone that I have a defective part. In questioning her I am getting zero feedback. Where is the vehicle? The short guy with glasses has it. Everyone wears safety glasses in this plant, and we have always thought that short was a job requirement. We eliminated 1 guy out of 1500. Very short, but he never wore his glasses.
Monday, June 15, 2009
News from the outside world
whoa . . . I didn't think I'd have a post today. The boss called and if Plant Loco goes back to work so do I. Go baby go.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Missing Punkin Head
It has been way too long and I am missing him something fierce. To remind him how much mommy loves him and to share with any special person how adorable my boy is-tada-cute, cuter, and cutest. These pictures are after Ann Arbor and you can see how he changed while he was in Philly. Mom is still waiting for some good New York pictures. Love You Punkin Head.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Flight Attendants
You know all this flap going on about David Letterman and Sarah Palin has me wondering. There is huge discussion on Dave, on Sarah, on everything except the fact that Dave is calling flight attendants SLUTTY.
Now I have seen my share of FA's and slutty has never come to mind. Snotty, wicked, nasty, rude, loony, whiny, and yes the one in a million decent human being. But never slutty.
Slutty infers many things to many people but none of the above.
And makeup does not define a slut. Smeared, gooey, runny and streaked makeup is slutty, but so is filthy ripped clothing and ratty hair. Most FA's makeup is either flawless (and they will do nothing to disturb their lipstick) or non-existent. Ever see an FA at 6AM-you won't be looking at a Vogue model.
There are only 2 FA's I can still picture in my mind and another that I will never forget for his lazy ass retort. The ladies I remember for quite different reasons. The middle aged blond of the perfect makeup and hair sprayed enough to be a fire risk-I saw her on many a DTW departure-telling a short Asian lady that did not speak or understand english how she could not help her with her bag. She said she couldn't help her (in first class) in case she might hurt her back. OK, so heavy lifting is not your job. However, it is your job to get the passengers seated and ready for take-off and arguing with a lady that does not understand english in the front of the plane is stupid. Period. It is stupid. Then there was the MSY flight. When we were boarding we were told by the announcer, the ticket taker, and then the FA that this would be a very bumpy flight and there would be no cabin service. The FA was quite nasty and adamant (mentioned this multiple times). Okay, (first class again) the pilot comes on the speaker and says "bumpy". Now when a pilot tells you bumpy- for me it is scary time. So we fly to Memphis with this harridan glaring at me for an hour without one fucking bump. And not a stitch of makeup or hairdo on that bitch's head.
So why is there no cry of outrage by or for SLUTTY flight attendants? They object to surly but like slutty? WTF.
Now I have seen my share of FA's and slutty has never come to mind. Snotty, wicked, nasty, rude, loony, whiny, and yes the one in a million decent human being. But never slutty.
Slutty infers many things to many people but none of the above.
And makeup does not define a slut. Smeared, gooey, runny and streaked makeup is slutty, but so is filthy ripped clothing and ratty hair. Most FA's makeup is either flawless (and they will do nothing to disturb their lipstick) or non-existent. Ever see an FA at 6AM-you won't be looking at a Vogue model.
There are only 2 FA's I can still picture in my mind and another that I will never forget for his lazy ass retort. The ladies I remember for quite different reasons. The middle aged blond of the perfect makeup and hair sprayed enough to be a fire risk-I saw her on many a DTW departure-telling a short Asian lady that did not speak or understand english how she could not help her with her bag. She said she couldn't help her (in first class) in case she might hurt her back. OK, so heavy lifting is not your job. However, it is your job to get the passengers seated and ready for take-off and arguing with a lady that does not understand english in the front of the plane is stupid. Period. It is stupid. Then there was the MSY flight. When we were boarding we were told by the announcer, the ticket taker, and then the FA that this would be a very bumpy flight and there would be no cabin service. The FA was quite nasty and adamant (mentioned this multiple times). Okay, (first class again) the pilot comes on the speaker and says "bumpy". Now when a pilot tells you bumpy- for me it is scary time. So we fly to Memphis with this harridan glaring at me for an hour without one fucking bump. And not a stitch of makeup or hairdo on that bitch's head.
So why is there no cry of outrage by or for SLUTTY flight attendants? They object to surly but like slutty? WTF.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Learning New Things
Due to circumstances which will not be discussed, there is a lot a compromise in a marriage that lasts for 32 years, certain routines have been in practice for years. I do not know how to do simple chores any longer. How do you get quarters? Apparently you get change when you purchase items. I shopped a little in the past and I do not remember ever getting a quarter. I know this because I put the quarters in the console tray in case I need them for parking meters. The last time I remember getting a quarter was when I went to Canada for business. Last September.
I do not know how to shop for groceries and sundries, I love the word sundries. I do not really shop. Ever. At all. I go on the Internet and find what I need and have Big Daddy "make it so". That is his job in the above described "compromise". Or we go to a store and I pick out what I need and Big Daddy pays for it, gets it home, and unloads the car. This is known as tote and carry.
I don't cook because Big Daddy loves to cook and is seriously better at it than I am. I make Big Daddy's favorite dinner maybe 3 times a year. I hate making coffee.
Well I guess the "compromise" is going out the window with the economy. If we actually have jobs and an income in the near future, I will need to be self sufficient. I will need to go to the grocery store. I think I will need to get those things people have on their key rings that give them special discounts. How do you get those things? And does everyone realize that hanging shit on your key ring can fuck up your ignition switch on your car?
I do not know how to shop for groceries and sundries, I love the word sundries. I do not really shop. Ever. At all. I go on the Internet and find what I need and have Big Daddy "make it so". That is his job in the above described "compromise". Or we go to a store and I pick out what I need and Big Daddy pays for it, gets it home, and unloads the car. This is known as tote and carry.
I don't cook because Big Daddy loves to cook and is seriously better at it than I am. I make Big Daddy's favorite dinner maybe 3 times a year. I hate making coffee.
Well I guess the "compromise" is going out the window with the economy. If we actually have jobs and an income in the near future, I will need to be self sufficient. I will need to go to the grocery store. I think I will need to get those things people have on their key rings that give them special discounts. How do you get those things? And does everyone realize that hanging shit on your key ring can fuck up your ignition switch on your car?
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