Guys. I'm so excited for fall. Seriously. It's the most magical time of year.
Any other time of year, if you were to ask me what my favorite season is, I'd probably say something like, "Oh, I like them all. Probably whichever one I'm in." But then September starts and I remember why autumn is the greatest thing to ever happen to this world. It's so great! No joke, I have been getting through long difficult classes by thinking about how excited I am that it's almost officially fall.
I love just about everything about this season. The trees all changing color, the crunchy leaves, the chill in the air. The excuse to wear cute rainboots on rainy days. Carving pumpkins, and also eating pumpkin based foods like pumpkin chocolate chip cookies and pumpkin rolls (let's see how many times I can say "pumpkin" in one sentence, shall we?) Halloween and Thanksgiving. (And that means Christmas is right around the corner!) The weather is cold enough to wear hoodies all the time. Thunderstorms. Have I mentioned crunchy leaves? Let me mention them again, because I love them with a fiery passion. Walking through huge piles of them makes my life complete. Oh, and on a more practical note, I also love fall because we can turn off the AC and save money.
Anyways, I'm ridiculously excited every time I walk out of a class and see all the spots of red on the mountains from the beautiful fall leaves, and I just couldn't contain my excitement anymore.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Tales of Provo
OK, so you know how everyone says BYU is dating/marriage crazy? I thought surely it wouldn't be as bad as everyone said, because how could it be, right? Well, I'm here to tell you it really is that bad. On our very first day, at new student orientation, the president was giving some speech, and talked about the importance of balancing all aspects of life, whether it be academic, spiritual, or social. Then, while talking about social lives, to a group of freshman, he started lecturing us on the importance of dating! That really happened!
I think the girls here, in general, are worse than the guys. My roommates and I have actually had people ask us, "So, do you want to get married this year?" and, "Are you getting married your freshman or your sophomore year?" Those are apparently my only two choices. Teen marriage or nothing! I mean, what's the point of even getting married after you're 20? By then you're an old lady, and your biological clock just keeps on ticking. Pretty soon I'll be obsolete. I mean, I was still around when there was a whole other planet in the sky! So I'd better get married soon, before I'm too old. However, to do that I have to look fantastic every day. Apparently it's a thing here to wear heels with jeans, and my roommate thinks it's the dumbest thing ever, so one day she asked a girl why everyone was so dressed up. The girl's reply was, "Well, what if you meet your eternal companion, and he sees you in just jeans and a t-shirt?" If that's the criteria for getting married, I've got no hope.
Another thing that everybody says down here is, "And it's free, so a great date idea!" I'm keeping track of all the crazy dating/marriage things down here on my phone, so I put that in. Then I realized that quote has to be attributed to everyone, because everyone says it all the time! Apparently that's the first thing people's minds automatically jump to if they hear about something that's free.
Some of my other favorite things from this list I've been keeping are, "Not only a great way to do service and expand your social circle, but find your eternal companion as well," from the BYUSA president (also at freshman orientation), a dating game (another thing at freshman orientation), and a free magazine with pages of dating ideas and kissing tips. This magazine just showed up outside everyone's apartment one day, along with some other ads.
Because my roommates and I are the greatest people ever, we brought brownies around to a lot of people in the ward. One of these people happens to be an RM, and we ended up staying and talking to him for a while. He said it's weird being in a freshman ward (he's an RA, and that's why he's here), because everyone thinks that just because he's an RM, marriage must be the only thing on his mind. He said how obviously that isn't true, then proceeded to tell us all about his plans for taking out every single girl in the ward, how his married friends say it's great and how he wants to get married, and all about his kissing preferences. For an hour!
The other night at about midnight, I heard singing outside my apartment, in the parking lot or something. It was a bunch of guys singing Kiss the Girl from The Little Mermaid, the part about, "Look like the boy too shy, ain't gonna kiss the girl." Then they stopped singing, and pretty soon they were all cheering instead. Because nothing adds more to a romantic moment than your date's friends popping out of a bush and singing at you, then cheering as he kisses you out of peer pressure.
And that, my friends, is Provo.
(No, but really, I'm loving it here.)
I think the girls here, in general, are worse than the guys. My roommates and I have actually had people ask us, "So, do you want to get married this year?" and, "Are you getting married your freshman or your sophomore year?" Those are apparently my only two choices. Teen marriage or nothing! I mean, what's the point of even getting married after you're 20? By then you're an old lady, and your biological clock just keeps on ticking. Pretty soon I'll be obsolete. I mean, I was still around when there was a whole other planet in the sky! So I'd better get married soon, before I'm too old. However, to do that I have to look fantastic every day. Apparently it's a thing here to wear heels with jeans, and my roommate thinks it's the dumbest thing ever, so one day she asked a girl why everyone was so dressed up. The girl's reply was, "Well, what if you meet your eternal companion, and he sees you in just jeans and a t-shirt?" If that's the criteria for getting married, I've got no hope.
Another thing that everybody says down here is, "And it's free, so a great date idea!" I'm keeping track of all the crazy dating/marriage things down here on my phone, so I put that in. Then I realized that quote has to be attributed to everyone, because everyone says it all the time! Apparently that's the first thing people's minds automatically jump to if they hear about something that's free.
Some of my other favorite things from this list I've been keeping are, "Not only a great way to do service and expand your social circle, but find your eternal companion as well," from the BYUSA president (also at freshman orientation), a dating game (another thing at freshman orientation), and a free magazine with pages of dating ideas and kissing tips. This magazine just showed up outside everyone's apartment one day, along with some other ads.
Because my roommates and I are the greatest people ever, we brought brownies around to a lot of people in the ward. One of these people happens to be an RM, and we ended up staying and talking to him for a while. He said it's weird being in a freshman ward (he's an RA, and that's why he's here), because everyone thinks that just because he's an RM, marriage must be the only thing on his mind. He said how obviously that isn't true, then proceeded to tell us all about his plans for taking out every single girl in the ward, how his married friends say it's great and how he wants to get married, and all about his kissing preferences. For an hour!
The other night at about midnight, I heard singing outside my apartment, in the parking lot or something. It was a bunch of guys singing Kiss the Girl from The Little Mermaid, the part about, "Look like the boy too shy, ain't gonna kiss the girl." Then they stopped singing, and pretty soon they were all cheering instead. Because nothing adds more to a romantic moment than your date's friends popping out of a bush and singing at you, then cheering as he kisses you out of peer pressure.
And that, my friends, is Provo.
(No, but really, I'm loving it here.)
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Life Lessons from Chick-Fil-A
Now that my summer job has ended, I'm reflecting on my work experiences, and thought I'd share them with you.
While working at Chick-Fil-A, I learned...
While working at Chick-Fil-A, I learned...
- It's amazing the lengths people will go to to either show their support or disapproval of a company's political views.
- How to make a beautiful soft serve ice cream cone (This is especially impressive if you'd seen what they looked like before I had to make them all the time at work.)
- It's incredibly useful to have a pen in your pocket at all times, especially in the fast food business.
- Actually, to be technical, it's called quick service, not fast food.
- How to tell the difference between about 12 quarts of sweet or unsweet tea, just by looking at it.
- If you're in a cow suit, people automatically assume you're male.
- Speaking of cow suits, it is so hot in there! Holy cow! (Bahaha, no pun intended.)
- You might think drama ends just because you're out of high school, but unfortunately, it doesn't.
- How to upsell like a champion.
- Some people are just going to be jerks, no matter what you do.
- However, most people will be friendlier and more polite if you greet them with a genuine smile.
- But be careful just how genuine that smile is, because some people will be a lot friendlier than you want.
- It's possible to rip a stitch out of your knee while playing with kids in the food court play place.
- You can make any awkward situation a little less awkward if you offer people mints.
- What an Arnold Palmer is.
- How to balance on the top rung of a precarious ladder while using a dull box cutter. Obviously it's a good idea to do that.
- Just how attached I'd become to my coworkers. Oh my goodness, I'm going to miss them!
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
College
About two weeks before going to college, this is how I feel:
Also hoping this doesn't happen:
Also hoping this doesn't happen:
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Dentists
Dentists have an unenviable job. I mean, they get paid bucket loads of money, but they have to stick their fingers in other people's mouths all day. They have to deal with screaming kids and cranky old people. Not very many people like them, and a visit to the dentist is a pretty surefire way to ruin anyone's day.
Personally, I don't think dentists are all that bad. I mean, I get my teeth super sparkling shiny clean, and that's good, right? As long as I don't need to get a root canal or something, it's OK to go to the dentist's.
At least, that's what I think any time I'm not actually in the dentist's office.
Last week, because of an unfortunate series of events involving cars breaking down in southern Utah, I was left stranded home alone, all day every day, with nothing to do but wash dishes and clean bathrooms. No joke. That's what I did to fill my time. Then my dad informed me of a dentist appointment for the both of us the next day. He came home early from work the next day, and we drove out to the middle of nowhere, because our dentist is approximately 52 miles from our house. We had to stop at every stoplight in the entire city, but finally reached our destination. Once there, we had to sit in the waiting room, where I was glad I'd thought to bring a book, because they have books with titles like, "You and Your Teeth: An Important Relationship," and "The Berenstein Bears Learn How to Floss." Meanwhile, they played music straight from the eighties, while I was waiting for them to just clean my teeth already and get it over with, dang it! I had important stuff to do back at home! Those floors needed to be mopped, and weren't going to wait forever! OK, I actually had nothing important to do back at home, but at least I had a computer there.
It was time for my semi-annual x-rays, so they shoved that weird plastic thing into my mouth for me to bite while they draped a heavy lead jacket around me to protect me from the radiation. Every time they do this, I bite down stoically, looking straight ahead, secretly petrified that they're going to find some horrible cancerous growth in my cheek. I can just hear it now: "Something seems to have gone wrong with the x-ray. We can't see your teeth, because this large gray spot is obscuring our view. Let's try again. Oh wait, it's not our equipment, it's you! You've got cancer. They'll have to remove your entire jaw." Luckily, I managed to make it another year without having to have that conversation. Phew.
They cleaned my teeth, which I guess wasn't that bad. They used that bubble gum flavored foam I've been getting ever since I can remember. I hear tell other people get choices of flavors, like mint, but they always forget to ask me. They've stopped asking how often I floss and brush my teeth, which is good, because I hate that question. I hate having to admit that while my brushing is great, my flossing isn't as often as it should be. I still do it, but it's really hard and time consuming with a permanent retainer. Besides, they'll probably find that out soon enough for themselves, when they're up to their elbows in my plaque. (Disclaimer: I promise my teeth are actually healthy, and I haven't had a cavity in years and years, so please don't judge me too harshly for that sentence.) The whole time I was staring intently at a spot on the ceiling, because I desperately wanted to avoid that awkward moment when you accidentally make eye contact with your dentist as their face is 5 inches away from yours, and they're up to their elbows in your plaque.
I guess the overall experience was fine, but it reaffirmed my conviction to never become a dentist. Afterwards I headed home for an exciting afternoon of cleaning my room and eating what meager food was in my house after being gone for over a week.
Personally, I don't think dentists are all that bad. I mean, I get my teeth super sparkling shiny clean, and that's good, right? As long as I don't need to get a root canal or something, it's OK to go to the dentist's.
At least, that's what I think any time I'm not actually in the dentist's office.
Last week, because of an unfortunate series of events involving cars breaking down in southern Utah, I was left stranded home alone, all day every day, with nothing to do but wash dishes and clean bathrooms. No joke. That's what I did to fill my time. Then my dad informed me of a dentist appointment for the both of us the next day. He came home early from work the next day, and we drove out to the middle of nowhere, because our dentist is approximately 52 miles from our house. We had to stop at every stoplight in the entire city, but finally reached our destination. Once there, we had to sit in the waiting room, where I was glad I'd thought to bring a book, because they have books with titles like, "You and Your Teeth: An Important Relationship," and "The Berenstein Bears Learn How to Floss." Meanwhile, they played music straight from the eighties, while I was waiting for them to just clean my teeth already and get it over with, dang it! I had important stuff to do back at home! Those floors needed to be mopped, and weren't going to wait forever! OK, I actually had nothing important to do back at home, but at least I had a computer there.
It was time for my semi-annual x-rays, so they shoved that weird plastic thing into my mouth for me to bite while they draped a heavy lead jacket around me to protect me from the radiation. Every time they do this, I bite down stoically, looking straight ahead, secretly petrified that they're going to find some horrible cancerous growth in my cheek. I can just hear it now: "Something seems to have gone wrong with the x-ray. We can't see your teeth, because this large gray spot is obscuring our view. Let's try again. Oh wait, it's not our equipment, it's you! You've got cancer. They'll have to remove your entire jaw." Luckily, I managed to make it another year without having to have that conversation. Phew.
They cleaned my teeth, which I guess wasn't that bad. They used that bubble gum flavored foam I've been getting ever since I can remember. I hear tell other people get choices of flavors, like mint, but they always forget to ask me. They've stopped asking how often I floss and brush my teeth, which is good, because I hate that question. I hate having to admit that while my brushing is great, my flossing isn't as often as it should be. I still do it, but it's really hard and time consuming with a permanent retainer. Besides, they'll probably find that out soon enough for themselves, when they're up to their elbows in my plaque. (Disclaimer: I promise my teeth are actually healthy, and I haven't had a cavity in years and years, so please don't judge me too harshly for that sentence.) The whole time I was staring intently at a spot on the ceiling, because I desperately wanted to avoid that awkward moment when you accidentally make eye contact with your dentist as their face is 5 inches away from yours, and they're up to their elbows in your plaque.
I guess the overall experience was fine, but it reaffirmed my conviction to never become a dentist. Afterwards I headed home for an exciting afternoon of cleaning my room and eating what meager food was in my house after being gone for over a week.
Friday, July 27, 2012
The Greatest Romance of my Life
So lately I've been reading my old journals. The really old ones. It's left me hoping desperately that I don't still sound like that in my journal, or I might just give up writing completely. I started my first one in the middle of fifth grade, and I'm pretty sure the only point of letting a fifth grader have a journal is so they can read it later and laugh while secretly trying to pretend that episode of life never happened. Probably that's what I should do with all my journals up till the end of 10th grade, actually. Maybe even later than that.
My first ever journal entry was me rebelliously stating I was going to stay up till midnight for New Year's Eve, even though I was supposed to go to bed. I don't know what my plan for it was; maybe watch the alarm clock change from 11:59 to 12:00, feel silently triumphant because I was supposed to be asleep, then crawl into bed? But it's a moot point, because I fell asleep around 10 anyways.
After this, I have several pages, divided up into several different entries, detailing why I thought a certain boy in my class liked me, and how gross that was. I said, "This is CRAZY! Why does he have to like me? Why can't he like someone else?" Secretly, even though I wouldn't even admit it in my own journal, that meant, "I'm so glad Jonathan likes me, because I like him, too! I sure hope he likes me!"
A typical journal entry about him went like this:
"I think Jonathan likes me. Hear are all the reasons.
1. He gave me a perfectly good pencil.
2. He talks to me a lot.
3. He's really nice to me.
4. He told me his worst fear (it's getting a shot) [After that, I pretended I was afraid of shots for a while, when I've always been fine with them.]
5. Sometimes it seems like he tries to impress me.
6. He doesn't like Christina [my best friend from elementary school] but he's nice to her when I'm around.
7. He helps me with stuff.
8. Once he was talking when I came over there and he said, 'Shh, she's here' and I was the only one in the pod.
9. He's really nice to me [Apparently that was important enough to be mentioned twice.]
10. He sits in front of me and keeps turning around to talk to me.
11. Once Christina saw him staring at me.
That's reason enough for me."
Other entries mentioned him in a more sneaky manner. My code name for him was Joanna, so a few entries mention Joanna, and how I had to write a short story for homework, so I did one about Joanna. Man, was I creepy or what?
One entry says, "New Jersey is my absolute favorite place, that and Wyoming definitely and Utah and Idaho. Specially Wyoming." There are so many problems with this entry. Number one being I only liked New Jersey because Jonathan visited there often. I think his grandparents lived there or something. Number two would be that I said, "specially," instead of "especially." Another problem is, I had the worst favorite places! Idaho? Really? I liked Wyoming because my grandma lives in Teton Valley, which is gorgeous, and I always have a good time up there, so that one at least is explainable. The only reason I even mentioned Utah and Idaho was because I felt obligated to, because I live in Utah and have lots of family in Idaho. And then there's New Jersey...Yeah, remember how creepy I was?
Probably after I got over Jonathan, I decided it was too embarrassing to have written about him at all in my journal, so everything about him is crossed out, in pencil, and is still completely legible. So much for my great fifth grade romance.
My first ever journal entry was me rebelliously stating I was going to stay up till midnight for New Year's Eve, even though I was supposed to go to bed. I don't know what my plan for it was; maybe watch the alarm clock change from 11:59 to 12:00, feel silently triumphant because I was supposed to be asleep, then crawl into bed? But it's a moot point, because I fell asleep around 10 anyways.
After this, I have several pages, divided up into several different entries, detailing why I thought a certain boy in my class liked me, and how gross that was. I said, "This is CRAZY! Why does he have to like me? Why can't he like someone else?" Secretly, even though I wouldn't even admit it in my own journal, that meant, "I'm so glad Jonathan likes me, because I like him, too! I sure hope he likes me!"
A typical journal entry about him went like this:
"I think Jonathan likes me. Hear are all the reasons.
1. He gave me a perfectly good pencil.
2. He talks to me a lot.
3. He's really nice to me.
4. He told me his worst fear (it's getting a shot) [After that, I pretended I was afraid of shots for a while, when I've always been fine with them.]
5. Sometimes it seems like he tries to impress me.
6. He doesn't like Christina [my best friend from elementary school] but he's nice to her when I'm around.
7. He helps me with stuff.
8. Once he was talking when I came over there and he said, 'Shh, she's here' and I was the only one in the pod.
9. He's really nice to me [Apparently that was important enough to be mentioned twice.]
10. He sits in front of me and keeps turning around to talk to me.
11. Once Christina saw him staring at me.
That's reason enough for me."
Other entries mentioned him in a more sneaky manner. My code name for him was Joanna, so a few entries mention Joanna, and how I had to write a short story for homework, so I did one about Joanna. Man, was I creepy or what?
One entry says, "New Jersey is my absolute favorite place, that and Wyoming definitely and Utah and Idaho. Specially Wyoming." There are so many problems with this entry. Number one being I only liked New Jersey because Jonathan visited there often. I think his grandparents lived there or something. Number two would be that I said, "specially," instead of "especially." Another problem is, I had the worst favorite places! Idaho? Really? I liked Wyoming because my grandma lives in Teton Valley, which is gorgeous, and I always have a good time up there, so that one at least is explainable. The only reason I even mentioned Utah and Idaho was because I felt obligated to, because I live in Utah and have lots of family in Idaho. And then there's New Jersey...Yeah, remember how creepy I was?
Probably after I got over Jonathan, I decided it was too embarrassing to have written about him at all in my journal, so everything about him is crossed out, in pencil, and is still completely legible. So much for my great fifth grade romance.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Crazy Customer of the Week
Because I work in a fast food restaurant, I encounter all sorts of crazy people. Or even people who are probably pretty normal, but just don't know how to order food. Or people who are just plain creepy. Because I need to do something to entertain myself at work (other than hanging out with my super awesome coworkers) (or should I say, cow-workers! Ahaha) (Get it? It's Chick-Fil-A, and we've got cows...never mind), I choose one person each week who's extra crazy, and mentally award them ,"Crazy Customer of the Week." There have been some pretty good ones. Well, depending on how you define "good"...
There was the girl who asked for three "melkshakes," then dumped a huge pile of quarters on the counter. As soon as she did, she started laughing really loudly and obnoxiously, and continued to do so the whole time I counted them. I went and made 3 shakes, and by the time I got back, she was still laughing. She walked away with her shakes, still laughing like this was the funniest thing she's ever done.
There was the balding guy in his forties or fifties who I don't think realized I was a minor, and flirted with me the whole time. I mean, it would still be creepy even if I wasn't a minor, because I'm still way younger than him, but really? It was just awful. And he had a complicated order, so it took a while to come out, and the whole time he was waiting, he lurked right by my register, and kept interrupting other customers to say things full of innuendo and creepiness. And when I asked for a name for the order, he said, "Kristina." I explained that I needed his name, not mine, because they would call it to give him his food, and he said, "Just put Kristina. I'll know who they mean."
I'm pretty sure one of the ladies who came in the other day was higher than a kite, and she kept asking to replace a kid's meal toy with some other type of food, like more nuggets.
Customer: "Hi...uh...can I get a kid's meal? But I want to replace the toy with more nuggets."
Me: "Do you just want to get a normal meal? Those don't have toys, and they come with more nuggets."
C: "No, I need a kid's meal...Can I get fruit?"
Me: "Instead of fries? Absolutely"
C: "No, I want both...Can I get fruit instead of the toy?"
Me: "No, fruit is only a side. If you don't want the toy, you can get ice cream instead."
C: "I get ice cream too? OK, I need that. And also fruit."
Me: "So you want to get fries in the kid's meal, and extra fruit on the side? And ice cream in place of the toy."
C: "No, I don't want to get anything extra...Can I just have fruit instead of the toy?"
Finally she talked to a manager, who told her the same things I'd been saying. I don't know what she ended up getting, but hopefully she got her fruit.
Then there was this super awkward guy, who came up and started talking to me by saying, "I was sitting in the food court, looking at your menu, and also sometimes you for entertainment. So I hope you weren't creeped out." In between slowly and ponderously giving me his order, he kept talking to me. He came in close to closing, so people were starting to sweep and mop the floor, and he literally talked for seven minutes straight about how we know the right way to clean floors, and how if he owned a restaurant the kitchen would be sparkling, and how kitchens at the U have cockroaches, and how he washes dishes for a living and it gets really old after 8 hours, but boy do we know the right way to clean, because look at that amazing mopping technique. Seven minutes! As soon as I took his order it went up on a screen with a timer, so that's an accurate time. And that turns out to be an eternity when you can't get a word in edgewise and are wondering if he's ever going to pay. There was a line, and they were all looking at him, then at me, then laughing or smiling sympathetically. I smiled back at them, because this whole situation was just ridiculous, but I think he thought I was responding to him, so it only encouraged him to keep talking for even longer. Those were possibly the worst seven minutes of my life.
Some customers just have odd ways of phrasing things. It's surprisingly common for them to say, "I need..." No, this is fast food, and I promise you, you don't need it. By all means, continue to eat here, because you're providing for my livelihood, but really, you don't need those fries and a shake. And somebody yesterday said, "I'm going to steal two water bottles," as he handed me his credit card. Obviously there was no stealing going on.
Another thing I've come to realize is there's a special voice for, "I'm reading your name off a tag, but also hitting on you." The only people who ever use my name are either parents with small children, or guys hitting on me. The difference is, "Thank you so much, Kristina. Can you tell Kristina thank you?" vs "Hey there...Kristina."
There was the girl who asked for three "melkshakes," then dumped a huge pile of quarters on the counter. As soon as she did, she started laughing really loudly and obnoxiously, and continued to do so the whole time I counted them. I went and made 3 shakes, and by the time I got back, she was still laughing. She walked away with her shakes, still laughing like this was the funniest thing she's ever done.
There was the balding guy in his forties or fifties who I don't think realized I was a minor, and flirted with me the whole time. I mean, it would still be creepy even if I wasn't a minor, because I'm still way younger than him, but really? It was just awful. And he had a complicated order, so it took a while to come out, and the whole time he was waiting, he lurked right by my register, and kept interrupting other customers to say things full of innuendo and creepiness. And when I asked for a name for the order, he said, "Kristina." I explained that I needed his name, not mine, because they would call it to give him his food, and he said, "Just put Kristina. I'll know who they mean."
I'm pretty sure one of the ladies who came in the other day was higher than a kite, and she kept asking to replace a kid's meal toy with some other type of food, like more nuggets.
Customer: "Hi...uh...can I get a kid's meal? But I want to replace the toy with more nuggets."
Me: "Do you just want to get a normal meal? Those don't have toys, and they come with more nuggets."
C: "No, I need a kid's meal...Can I get fruit?"
Me: "Instead of fries? Absolutely"
C: "No, I want both...Can I get fruit instead of the toy?"
Me: "No, fruit is only a side. If you don't want the toy, you can get ice cream instead."
C: "I get ice cream too? OK, I need that. And also fruit."
Me: "So you want to get fries in the kid's meal, and extra fruit on the side? And ice cream in place of the toy."
C: "No, I don't want to get anything extra...Can I just have fruit instead of the toy?"
Finally she talked to a manager, who told her the same things I'd been saying. I don't know what she ended up getting, but hopefully she got her fruit.
Then there was this super awkward guy, who came up and started talking to me by saying, "I was sitting in the food court, looking at your menu, and also sometimes you for entertainment. So I hope you weren't creeped out." In between slowly and ponderously giving me his order, he kept talking to me. He came in close to closing, so people were starting to sweep and mop the floor, and he literally talked for seven minutes straight about how we know the right way to clean floors, and how if he owned a restaurant the kitchen would be sparkling, and how kitchens at the U have cockroaches, and how he washes dishes for a living and it gets really old after 8 hours, but boy do we know the right way to clean, because look at that amazing mopping technique. Seven minutes! As soon as I took his order it went up on a screen with a timer, so that's an accurate time. And that turns out to be an eternity when you can't get a word in edgewise and are wondering if he's ever going to pay. There was a line, and they were all looking at him, then at me, then laughing or smiling sympathetically. I smiled back at them, because this whole situation was just ridiculous, but I think he thought I was responding to him, so it only encouraged him to keep talking for even longer. Those were possibly the worst seven minutes of my life.
Some customers just have odd ways of phrasing things. It's surprisingly common for them to say, "I need..." No, this is fast food, and I promise you, you don't need it. By all means, continue to eat here, because you're providing for my livelihood, but really, you don't need those fries and a shake. And somebody yesterday said, "I'm going to steal two water bottles," as he handed me his credit card. Obviously there was no stealing going on.
Another thing I've come to realize is there's a special voice for, "I'm reading your name off a tag, but also hitting on you." The only people who ever use my name are either parents with small children, or guys hitting on me. The difference is, "Thank you so much, Kristina. Can you tell Kristina thank you?" vs "Hey there...Kristina."
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