I started the day with my usual 12 mile, 15 to 20 minute commute. It's twelve miles of two-lane twisty mountain highway.
This morning though, it took 45 minutes. A "dulie" with Texas plates (and I LOVE this part) and a "drive friendly" bumpersticker was driving 15 miles an hour. Every time I tried to pass him, he straddled the center line so I couldn't pass. At one point he got all the way over into the on-coming lane and I tried to pass him on the right... he came back over to the right with his horn blaring and I had to either hit my brakes, or be driven off the road. I was sorely tempted to pull over and empty a ten round clip from my behind-the-seat-truck-rifle into his back glass. But I forced myself to remain calm. After ten miles of this jack-ass not letting me pass, we were two miles outta town and he made some severe driving error and spun around one and a half times on the packed snow/ice. He didn't go down a cliff or embankment, but he was stuck in a ditch. I pulled over and watched him spin his tires for a minute. He got outta his truck and waved me over. No way that was gonna happen. I flashed my lights and waited for him to come to me.
He came over to my truck and asked if I had rope or a tow-strap. I said, "Yes." He asked if I'd pull him outta the ditch. I told him to "Drive Friendly", gave him a one finger salute, and pulled out aggressivly spraying snow everywhere.
Then at breakfast everyone rode my ass like a horse in a saddle. They were demanding, impatient, and rather rude. I will loose my job if I'm anything but polite at all times, so I stayed friendly and polite. I stuff my tip jar before breakfast with a dollar to "prime the pump". I saw a few folks stuff a dollar in while I was cooking for everyone, but had no idea how many dollars were in there. I still don't. The jar was empty when I was done cooking for the hotel. Someone ripped me off.
All day folks have been calling for spring break rooms (starts this weekend), and we don't have any availabilty for more than a week. They all get mad at me, like it's my fault they had piss-poor planning and waited till the last minute to get a room. One lady called about reservations for a weekend this summer. She was furious to find out that all the riverside rooms were allready taken on the dates she wanted. She went so far as to demand I switch a prior riverside reservation to townside and give her the room. I told her I couldn't do that. She demanded I do so again. I asked her how she would feel if she had a riverside reservation and I switched her for someone else. She started to scream at me not to f*** with her and try to make her feel bad.
Usually I love my job, and have a good time, but when it rains, it pours...
One little addition to my above post: The lady who is susposed to relieve me at the front desk called hours ago and said she was gonna be 30 minutes late. She is now almost two hours late, and isn't answering her phone. The part of my brain that just got to enjoy a bowl of OGF in my MM cob hopes she is ok, the much larger portion of my brain is gettin very annoyed.
Once I get home it's gonna be a tequilla night.
Well, some days your the bug and some days your the windshield. I think it all evens out over time. When times are crappy, I just think it will be over soon. And yes a little tequila doesn't hurt!
Oh yea, out of the 50 texans who can drive in the snow, 48 are truckers and aren't here when it snows. Lol, it is that bad.
Time to grouse, since I can't scare anybody up on the morning thread. High heeled shoes. No, not cowboy boots, which serve a purpose to hook into the stirrup, but women's high heeled shoes. (Not that I deem it proper to wear cowboy boots with high heels if you have no intention of getting on a horse; I see that as an affectation.)
First, they are dangerous, causing thousands of injuries every year, as they get stuck in drain gratings, slip on wet floors, or simply break while descending a flight of stairs. Second, you cannot hit a golf ball effectively wearing stilettos, which is the genesis of this short diatribe.
The Golf Channel has quite a few women on their broadcast team these days. One of the standard groupings of commentators has them standing together on the set's artificial putting green. Sometimes they putt, hit chip shots into a net, whatever, but it irks me that the women wear high heeled shoes -- VERY high heeled shoes -- and form-fitting frilly garments that would be very uncomfortable to play in. The guys could step out on the first tee and play away, but the women on the show would require a complete wardrobe change. If it's the women's choice to wear this stuff, shame on them. If it's a male producer's big idea to get ratings by having the babes look like ring girls holding up the round cards at a boxing match, I'd like to see the ladies revolt. Women look better in golf attire anyhow.
Errrr... I see no problem here. Rather, this is clearly to be encouraged.
If one or two occasionally fall from the great height of their footwear, this is surely Natural Selection at work. Vertigo is to be bred out.
(And yes, I do know that I should perhaps more correctly refer to acrophobia. But some of those heels can make a chap's head spin.)
It's hard to take someone seriously when they're on stilts...