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Have arrived home. Have night off. Made some dough today. Though all in credit cards, which means I won't see it until next paycheck. Whatever!
Laid the smackdown on a coworker who was trying to pull seniority when it wasn't warranted. (I'm scheduled to work the Big Bar morning after next. She said, I'm senior to you so I'm going to work Big Bar, even though i was scheduled later to open Little Bar. Huh? I said. I asked Manager. Oh no, Manager said: Schedule stands, seniority or no. Show up on time and I'll see that you open Big Bar. I shrugged. I wouldn't mind, but Coworker was really rude about it, and now that I think of it, she's only senior to me by less than 6 months and yet for two weeks so far this summer has been working the peachy shifts of the 20+ year seniority co-workers who were on vacation, by virtue of having been On The Schedule to do so-- regardless of the 5+ years' seniority of the other people on the schedule for a half hour later and suchlike. So c'mon, Coworker. You've done well enough by that rule this summer, so it really ought to apply to you even now that it's not in your favor. I don't want to hear about it, and if you choose to complain, I am going to tell you to Suck It.)
Tomorrow off too, which pleases me: will do lots of writing and make a good dinner. I'm thinking something involving the fresh tomatoes that should be ripe by then. (Might I have enough for gazpacho? I would be psyched if I did.)
Yes. Am finally going to get bits of website up online. It'd be fun. Yays.
Oh, a vignette I meant to share yesterday from my commute home:
Minor traffic jam-- construction and a poorly-timed light, and I was sitting for a long time across from the Park & Ride lot by UB South campus, near the University rail / bus station. There was a crowd in the parking lot, oddly configured-- at first glance, I thought it a pack of young African-Americans, which is not an uncommon sight between the bus station and the grocery store, after all. (The riders of public transportation are very frequently African-American, although by no means exclusively.)
But then, I couldn't figure out what they were doing. They weren't grouped together: they were standing at precise-seeming distances from one another. Were they playing a game, I wondered. Finally I noticed that one of them was holding something large, made of pale wood. A baseball bat? That would be very odd indeed-- the most common sport young men, particularly young black men, play around here is usually basketball, and there was no hoop. It would be very unusual indeed if they were playing baseball. And he was holding the wooden thing strangely, down in front of him. Hockey? With only one stick? That would be bizarre indeed.
Finally one of them started running, out in the middle of the group. He made an odd hopping motion and raised his arm, and I realized he was throwing a ball---
Oh.
He was bowling a cricket ball. They were Indians. (Well, from the Subcontinent at least.) They were playing cricket. The batter swiped upward at the ball, the outfielders all broke into motion, and the light turned green and I went on down Kenmore Ave and remembered that I was in Buffalo.
Laid the smackdown on a coworker who was trying to pull seniority when it wasn't warranted. (I'm scheduled to work the Big Bar morning after next. She said, I'm senior to you so I'm going to work Big Bar, even though i was scheduled later to open Little Bar. Huh? I said. I asked Manager. Oh no, Manager said: Schedule stands, seniority or no. Show up on time and I'll see that you open Big Bar. I shrugged. I wouldn't mind, but Coworker was really rude about it, and now that I think of it, she's only senior to me by less than 6 months and yet for two weeks so far this summer has been working the peachy shifts of the 20+ year seniority co-workers who were on vacation, by virtue of having been On The Schedule to do so-- regardless of the 5+ years' seniority of the other people on the schedule for a half hour later and suchlike. So c'mon, Coworker. You've done well enough by that rule this summer, so it really ought to apply to you even now that it's not in your favor. I don't want to hear about it, and if you choose to complain, I am going to tell you to Suck It.)
Tomorrow off too, which pleases me: will do lots of writing and make a good dinner. I'm thinking something involving the fresh tomatoes that should be ripe by then. (Might I have enough for gazpacho? I would be psyched if I did.)
Yes. Am finally going to get bits of website up online. It'd be fun. Yays.
Oh, a vignette I meant to share yesterday from my commute home:
Minor traffic jam-- construction and a poorly-timed light, and I was sitting for a long time across from the Park & Ride lot by UB South campus, near the University rail / bus station. There was a crowd in the parking lot, oddly configured-- at first glance, I thought it a pack of young African-Americans, which is not an uncommon sight between the bus station and the grocery store, after all. (The riders of public transportation are very frequently African-American, although by no means exclusively.)
But then, I couldn't figure out what they were doing. They weren't grouped together: they were standing at precise-seeming distances from one another. Were they playing a game, I wondered. Finally I noticed that one of them was holding something large, made of pale wood. A baseball bat? That would be very odd indeed-- the most common sport young men, particularly young black men, play around here is usually basketball, and there was no hoop. It would be very unusual indeed if they were playing baseball. And he was holding the wooden thing strangely, down in front of him. Hockey? With only one stick? That would be bizarre indeed.
Finally one of them started running, out in the middle of the group. He made an odd hopping motion and raised his arm, and I realized he was throwing a ball---
Oh.
He was bowling a cricket ball. They were Indians. (Well, from the Subcontinent at least.) They were playing cricket. The batter swiped upward at the ball, the outfielders all broke into motion, and the light turned green and I went on down Kenmore Ave and remembered that I was in Buffalo.
