Work Stories: Episode 65: Cowabunga

Previously in Work Stories, I wrote about watching a guy walk into a sign outside my work.  It was funny.  I still laugh thinking about it.  That’s why I wrote about it.  I don’t care if you found it funny or not, but I did.  I found it really funny.  And that’s all that matters.  These blog posts are as much for me as you.  They might even be more for me than you.  It’s a way for me to write about what happened at work and have a record of that for years to come.

Anyway, I should get to this week’s Work Story because the three of you who look at these things might actually be waiting for me to write about something new.  You don’t want me writing about something I’ve already written about.  Where would the amusement come from that?  I don’t know.  You don’t know.  So I’ll get to something new now.

The people that own the museum that I work at also own various other attractions along our carnival-like street.  Also, they own four different restaurants and two hotels.  It’s a pretty big investment in the tourism industry that the owner has made.  Why am I saying all this?  Let me elaborate.  All of the different establishments must share two dumpsters and a cardboard bin.  That’s a lot of garbage that goes into the same receptacles, but we make due.

The specific dumpster that we use at the museum is right out back.  It mostly ends up with the garbage from the sidewalk, our garbage, and the garbage of one of the restaurants.  But the cardboard bin is across the property near the other dumpster.  When we cardboard to toss out, we must venture through the entire property of sixteen different places in order to get there.  Of course we don’t walk through all of the places.  There are parking lots and pathways between them.  We still have to go across the property to get to the cardboard bin, though.

This story of course happens to involve a trip that I made across the property to throw out some cardboard.  I threw the garbage in the dumpster out back because I wasn’t going to carry it all the way to the other dumpster.  I might be an undiagnosed insane person, but I’m not that crazy.  I don’t want to carry bags of trash if I don’t have to.  Who would?  Maybe someone with a garbage fetish.  That would be a strange fetish.  I’m rambling.  I tossed out the trash and headed across the property to the cardboard bin to get rid of the cardboard.  I’m a good recycling person.  Assuming that the cardboard gets recycled of course.

The shortcut to get from our dumpster to the other garbage area is to cut through the parking lot of one hotel, go through a little path, and then cut through the parking lot of the other.  This second parking lot has three restaurants around it.  I see a lot of the employees of these restaurants out there during the end of the night cleanup because they’re also cleaning up to go home for the night.

As I was going through the second parking lot, one of the employees of the pizza place walked by me in the opposite direction.  He turned around and called after me.  I wasn’t sure what this guy wanted.  Maybe he needed help with something.  When he first started, he needed my help getting the electric dumpster, which is also a compactor, to work.  Was he still confused about how things worked?  Nope.  That wasn’t it at all.

When I turned around, he asked if I wanted some free pizza.  Well… Of course I wanted free pizza.  Who wouldn’t want free pizza?  It’s pizza.  Pizza is the single greatest food ever.  Is there anyone who doesn’t like pizza?  There are so many ways to make a pizza that there’s pretty much a kind of pizza out there for anyone.  If you got offered free pizza, you’d probably take it.  I know I would, and I know I did.

In short, I just wrote all of this as a way to brag about getting free pizza at work.  Yeah, I did that.  Yeah, I’m pointing it out.  Can you blame me for liking free pizza?  No, you probably can’t.

That’s it for this Work Story.  I don’t know where else I could possibly go with it, so I’ll just end it here.  I might actually get the Work Story up in time next week.  This week it’s about 90 minutes late.  I have no excuse for the delay.  I didn’t get it done in time because I’m a lazy butt.  Next week, I’ll try not to be so slow with it.

Until then, you've got to learn to let go.