What a Nightmare

November 5, 2012 at 1:52 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , )

Do you ever have a dream about work?  Waking up to realize you’ve spent your precious hours of freedom unconsciously thinking about your job is a blow to the morale, that’s for sure.  Now what about this – do you ever have dreams about working at a job you haven’t held in years?  Even though I’ve worked in over a dozen places of employment over the past 14 years, I luckily don’t tend to dream about any of them very often.  However, when I do, it’s always about one place and one place only:  Dairy Queen.

Oh god why

I was THE Dairy Queen during my entire high school career and I suppose the reason it makes unwanted appearances in my dreams is because I worked there the longest.  I like to think that over the fact that I worked there during my most formative years because, well, that’s depressing.  Last night, I dreamed that I was back wearing my visor and uniform because, for some reason, they needed me to work for a few hours as they were so short staffed.  My sister was there (she worked with me briefly in real life too) and she needed the back up so I resigned myself to help out for a bit.  At one point, when faced with empty boxes of ice cream cones (because no one ordered enough supplies) and a horribly dirty ice cream counter, I made the comment that the place wouldn’t have been so bad off if I had never left.  Because clearly it’s my life’s goal to stay on as an assistant manager of a locally owned fast food joint.  In the dream, the manager was freaking out because the person coming in to relieve me wasn’t showing up (ironically, the missing worker was the confused accountant we briefly had at my current real job, who didn’t last longer than a month) and they were begging me to stay to close the store.  I asked how much they would pay me and when they said “at least $20 for the whole night” I laughed in their face and walked out the door, meeting my mom in the parking lot so we could go do some shopping.  While walking to our car I found a bag containing $90 cash and realized my decision to quit was a good one, and that was that.

But what does it mean?!  Probably that I’ll make more money doing just about anything (including walking around semi-full parking lots) than I ever would have if I had stayed on at DQ.  Of course, the mystery of why I still dream about that place has not been solved and I don’t know that it ever will be.  I hope that eventually I can get these dreams out of my system but I suppose they’re better than dreaming about wading through dirty underwear in clothing donations at Goodwill or delivering pizzas to a seedy strip club on the south side of Bloomington during college.  Those were the days…not.

As much as I complain about my current job, it’s definitely a step up from the ones I’ve had in the past!  But maybe tonight, just for fun, I can dream about winning the lottery and swimming in a pool full of money with the cast from Magic Mike.  Here’s hoping!

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Special Delivery!

February 25, 2011 at 11:33 am (Uncategorized) (, , , )

Since the last post was on the serious side, here’s a nice little story to make your soul happy:

MEMPHIS, TN (WMC-TV) – A pizza delivery driver was called a hero Monday after she likely saved an elderly woman’s life.

Before Monday’s incident, most neighbors knew little about Memphis resident Jean Wilson, except that she’s eaten pizza daily for the past three years.

“We make her pizza every day before she even calls, because we know she’s going to call,” delivery driver Susan Guy said.

Guy often delivers Wilson’s regular order, one large pepperoni pizza, but recently workers at her restaurant noticed an unusual break in the pattern.

“She hadn’t called in three days,” Guy said. “My boss told me about it today.”

Guy insisted to her boss that she be allowed to check on Wilson.

“He was like, ‘Naw, you don’t have to do that,’ and I said, ‘Yeah I do.  Clock me out if that’s what you gotta do,'” Guy said.

Guy drove to Wilson’s house and knocked on her door, but no one answered.  Then, she banged on Wilson’s windows, but there was still no response. Running out of options, Wilson ran to neighbor Larry Comeaux’s house for help.

“The pizza lady came over and knocked on the door wanting to know if I’d seen the lady across the street,” Comeaux said.

“And he said, ‘No, maybe she’s not home,'” Guy said. “And I said, ‘Well, not home?’ I said, ‘How many times have you see her leave?’ And he goes, ‘Never.'”

Guy quickly called 911.  When police arrived, they broke down the door to Wilson’s home, and found her lying on a floor inside.

They soon learned that Wilson had fallen on Saturday, and couldn’t get over to a telephone to call for help.  Investigators said it’s possible that her pizza-only diet may have saved her life.

“She treats us really well,” Guy said. “She appreciates us, and that’s something we don’t get in customers a lot.”

Late Monday evening, Wilson was in non-critical condition at St. Francis Hospital.

Tuesday, Wilson was offered help in the form of a Life Alert system by a local company.


Not going to lie, I teared up a little upon reading this.  It reminded me of a story from my Dairy Queen days, back when I worked the breakfast shift on weekends  (in case you weren’t aware, DQ makes phenomenal breakfasts.  Seriously, that gravy is to die for).  Anyway we had our regulars, the old coffee drinkers who would come in at the same time every day and gossip with one another for a few hours.  There was one man in particular who would show up daily and order the exact same breakfast, but he wasn’t a member of the coffee drinker club.  He was a stroke victim and couldn’t speak with great clarity so he usually sat alone while he ate.  He used a cane and wasn’t very mobile so I became friendly with him and would often help him inside and bring his meal to his table.  He might have been slightly handicapped but he was also a little bit of a pervert…he was always telling my 16-year old self how good I looked and I caught him staring at my ass on more than one occasion.

This is not the direction I meant for this story to take.  Anyway, there was one winter morning that was particularly nasty and as breakfast serving time drew to an end, a coworker of mine and I noticed our cane guy hadn’t been in.  We knew where he lived, as it was right down the road and he drove a distinctive old Cadillac, so we decided to take his breakfast to him (my coworker was a big, burly guy…not that I was worried about the older man, but better to be safe than chopped up under a porch).  While this story doesn’t end with us saving his life, he was extremely grateful for the free meal we brought him and there were tears in his eyes when we left.  It was my good deed for the year and it made me feel a little better about working a crap job in the fast food industry.

I pass by the old guy’s place when I’m visiting home and noticed that his son’s truck usurped the spot of the Caddy years ago.  I like to think my old friend is now enjoying that big, gravy laden breakfast buffet in the sky while checking out all of the jailbait his heart can handle.

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