I’m Not Dead! CAN YOU NOT HEAR ME?!

It’s so great to be back to the internet. I have been in Minnesota for the past three weeks for a family reunion and a PhD graduation, but now I am back! And I have lots of stories to share.

However, I will not be posting them right now, so here is a picture of a baby goat.

You have to forgive me now

You have to forgive me now

You’re welcome.

Expect many awkward stories of fun times and horrible situations in the next few days, because I have many stories to tell you all. I have missed you all, and I can’t wait to start writing once more 

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I’m Running Away

Greetings my loyal subjects.

Due to some circumstances that I can not share with the internet, I will be taking a short hiatus. I will be posting again in approximately three weeks.

If I post something before then, then I’m a ghost, returning to tell you about the future and our wonderful ape overlords.

Beware.

HUGS AND KISSES!

xoxo

He Cheated With An Asian Hooker: Tales of A Crazy Biatch Pt 4

If you have not read about Marjorie yet, go read these first

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

 

In the first two weeks that I had known Marjorie, she had been punched out and given a black eye at the very friendly Laundromat in North Pole, she had her body builder four year old (who I’m fairly sure is imaginary) lift a dresser and break her foot, she had gotten married, gotten drunk while pregnant, had a miscarriage and C-section from said miscarriage, and gotten married.

That’s a lot of shit to happen to a person over the course of two weeks.  Oh, she started working the day that she flew in.  So from the day she stepped foot in Alaska, all of that stuff happened.

Of course, she had to top each story with the last.  At least, I think that’s what was running through her pretty little head.

She came to work one day, her boot on, her black eye on the wrong side of the day before, huffing and stating that she’s divorcing her husband that she’s been married to for almost two weeks.  He flew to Korea for a yearlong deployment, or so she told us, and he blamed her for the miscarriage.

Well, apparently, she was very torn up about the miscarriage.  He was excited to be a daddy, and when she told him that she lost the baby, he blamed her.  He said that it was her fault and she was trying to sabotage any chance he had to be a father.  She told us that the argument lasted a while, and the next day when she called to try to makeup with him, he confessed that he cheated on her.

By going to a massage parlor off base.

And getting a “special massage” from one of the Asian masseuses.

I have to reiterate though, this is the version that she told me.

Each person she told this to was a different variation.  She told one person he just cheated and did it before they were married and confessed after they were married, she told someone else that he cheated with a friend in Korea.

The bottom line was though, was that she was leaving his lying, cheating sorry ass.

But she said that she wanted to stay in Alaska, because why not?

Fresh Starts and Lots of Men

Fresh Starts and Lots of Men

So she decided to stay in Alaska, working with us at the bowling alley, and there was one evening… the evening where she went from just crazy, to crazy biatch.

It was a single airmen bowling event.  All of the airmen on base were allowed one free meal and three games of free bowling to get them out of the dorms, for Senior Airmen and lower, so we were fully packed.  We had two cashiers and two cooks working.  Me and the cook that were working had close to 30 tickets backed up at one point, and most of the orders included beer.

When we would get really busy like that, we would put one beer pitcher in front of the register that said “tips.”  How tips worked for us is that we would split them down the middle for everyone.  So if there were four of us and there were only ten dollars in tips, we each got $2.50.

Fair, right?  The cooks did more than just cook, a lot of times it would be a little slow in back and the cashier in the front would be backed up calling out orders, so the cooks would come around and call out orders, get any other little things needed like ranch, bbq, and so on.  We prided ourselves in being a good team, which is why we were voted the best customer service on base, in the top five in the Air Force.

This particular evening was no exception.  For over two hours we were slammed, there was no talking between employees.  Marjorie, however, would not let the second cashier do anything.  She would shove her over to get the beer, she’d shove her over to get the orders called out, so our little cashier was very frustrated and helped us in the kitchen since our orders were so backed up.

At around 8 pm, when Marjorie’s shift was up, she counted up the tips.

They equaled up to nearly $75.  All of us were fairly excited.  That’s a decent amount for all of us to take home.  Not impressive, but decent.

Marjorie thought so too.  So much so, that as she was leaving that night, she took all of the tips and left when there was another round of people coming in.  Technically, yes, her shift was over, but we had an agreement that if it was really busy like that, we stay to help out.  There had been times where I worked 10 hours instead of 8 hours to help out, we had all done it before.  Marjorie would not stay, and she took all of the tips.

Marjorie, but add some crazy

Marjorie, but add some crazy

We were furious.

I told my manager about it, who then talked to Marjorie, to which Marjorie stated that she didn’t know we were supposed to share, and that we weren’t helping her and the guys who tipped her said that they were for her and her alone.

Nobody liked Marjorie after that.  Nobody talked to her.  I don’t know what other crazy stories she had, because I didn’t want anything to do with her.  While I personally didn’t need the tips, the other cashier had a newborn at home and could have really used the extra few dollars.  The other cook didn’t work a lot and he even admitted that a few extra dollars in his pocket would have been nice.

And it was an honor system.  I always shared my tips.  My coworkers could sometimes say that I was a crappy employee, and I had moments where I was not a good employee.  There were times where I was a shady coworker.  There were times where I would sit on my ass and do nothing.  I wasn’t a perfect employee, getting into yelling matches with my manager about politics, but at the end of the day, I was honorable.  I never stole, or if I forgot to pay for my food, I would go back and pay for that and a second item.   I was fair with my tips, and I eventually learned what it meant to be a fair coworker by pulling my weight.  It took a lot of fights, it took a lot of being crapped on by people like Marjorie, but in the end, I learned a lesson.

Marjorie never did learn a lesson.  Marjorie had no honor.  Marjorie defended her theft and hated the rest of us for telling on her.

A few weeks later we had our first cold spurt of -20 and snowfall.  In mid-October.   Marjorie thought that it would only be cold like that for a few months, when we told her it didn’t warm up until close to May, she turned in her two week notice and booked the first flight back home.  She had been renting her furniture and had returned it, sold everything else that she didn’t want to ship back.

She was gone as quickly as she had come, much to everyone’s relief.

I recently did some stalking on her, she’s been married and divorced again since that happened, as well as been in a few “serious” relationships.  There is still no sign that she has a child.  She’s back home and waiting for Mr. Right, because the first five husbands weren’t Mr. Right.

A long while after Marjorie was gone, I was joking about her to my manager, a woman who is the same age as my mother and treated me better than any manager I have ever had, period.  Honestly, if more managers were like the manager I had at the bowling alley, there wouldn’t be so many issues in businesses.  She would help cook if we were backed up, she would do dishes, she would mop floors, and if my pay was screwed up, she would have it fixed by the end of the day.

Sorry, getting ahead of myself.  To say the least, my manager was the bomb.

But when talking about Marjorie, she said she’d hire Marjorie back in a heartbeat.  When she told me this, I gave her a ghastly look.  Her reason?

“That girl was so crazy, it never got boring here.  I was half tempted to get some popcorn when she’d tell her batshit crazy stories because they were just so damn insane.”

We would then laugh at the boob strings, and when we noticed our coworkers with perky boobs, we’d ask them where they had their boob strings put in.  If someone hurt their foot, we would ask if a four year old did it, and Marjorie became a running joke.

I guess I should say though, that I learned a lot about myself working with Marjorie.

I should never settle for less.  I should never believe in love at first sight, and that lying does nothing but cause problems.  I also learned what it meant to be a good employee.  I learned what it meant to have someone’s back, and most importantly, I learned why it’s important to work hard in life, especially in school.

I never want to work with someone as crazy as Marjorie again for as long as I live.  I started going back to college not too long after I worked with her.

So that, my loyal readers, is how I survived working with a woman who was likely mentally insane.

Have you ever worked with someone that made you want to be a better employee?  Have you ever had a shady coworker steal and try to justify it?  Let me know in the comments!

The Broken Foot: Tales of a Crazy Biatch Pt 3

If you have not read the adventures of Marjorie yet, read this and this first.

Marjorie came in to work one day wearing a foot boot cast thingy ma bobber.  I have no idea what they’re called, it’s this thing.

DAS BOOT!

DAS BOOT!

This happened a couple days after her miscarriage, and she stated that she was just in so much pain.  Her son broke her foot.

Her four year old son.

Lifted up a dresser.

And dropped it on her foot.

Okay, to be fair, she said she was getting after him, with her foot under the dresser, telling him to put it down.

And he dropped it on her foot and shattered her foot.

Pretty sure her kid was more muscular than this

Pretty sure her kid was more muscular than this

I don’t know about all of you, but I’m a 24 year old who considers herself fairly strong.  I can lift heavy things by myself, but Marjorie had some nice furniture.  Like, furniture I could only afford on a salary of cleaning out men from being married several times in four years.  If I were rich, I could afford a marble top table. Maybe.

Nice furniture is also usually close to a thousand fucking pounds.

I’m fairly strong, I lift weights, and there is no way in hell I can lift a dresser that is filled to the brim with clothing.

And her four year old was somehow able to lift this dresser high enough that when it fell down on her toe, it shattered her toe.

I want to know if this kid dropped this dresser five feet from the ground.

Either way, she wore the boot for at least a week.  I don’t quite remember…

The point being, either her kid was a body builder four year old, or he was imaginary and she dropped it on her own foot, if her foot was even broken.

But fear not… There’s more…  Later on this week.

 

Do any of you have any ridiculous stories as to how you broke a bone?  Has the coworker you worked with just been crazy and possibly a pathological liar?  Tell me in the comments!

Save Me, Oh Zeus!: Tales of a Crazy Biatch Pt 2

I mentioned before that Marjorie was a little off, telling us about her imaginary son and her magical boob strings, but the things telling us she was a little off just kept keep piling up.

Example #4: It’s okay to drink red wine when you’re pregnant

So a week after Marjorie started working with us, she announced she was pregnant.  This was the day after she got married, and we were so happy to hear that she was going to have a little one.  She was going to the store and showing us all the cute baby things she had, telling us how excited her husband (who was in Korea on a deployment) was for the little one, and she went around telling everyone just how exhilarating it would be for her imaginary son to have a little brother or sister.

We didn’t know she was crazy yet, and I was convinced this chick could be my new best friend, so as a friendly gesture, I gave her a driving tour of Fairbanks.  I took her to all the nice places to shop, where to avoid, where you go for an extra special Asian massage, you know, all the fun stuff in the Banks.

Miss this place SO MUCH

Miss this place SO MUCH

After my two hour long driving tour of Fairbanks, we decided to go back to my place to watch a movie and chat.  She lived in the apartment complex I lived in, but in a different section.  She told me that she’s allowed to have a glass of red wine when pregnant, since it can actually be good for the baby.  I shrugged, figuring that since I was only 21 at the time, I probably didn’t know a lot about the pregnancy business since she was years older than me.

So we go to the liquor store to get some wine, and she picks out a white wine.  Well, a strawberry white zinfandel that’s pink in color.

SEVENTEEEEEEN!

SEVENTEEEEEEN!

“Marjorie, I thought you could only have red wine?” I asked her, concerned for the growing baby inside her.

“Oh, it’s red in color, so it’s okay,” she said, whipping out her credit card to pay for the wine.  For someone who was so excited to have a baby, she seemed so ready to bend the rules for her baby.  I guess that if it were me, I’d be terrified of drinking for fear of developmental issues, but she claimed that she did the same with her four year old and he turned out just fine.

So, I let my naivety get the best of me and we went back to my apartment.

Where she got hammered.

And while she was hammered she was telling me about how her parents raised her to have the religion of the Ancient Greeks.  She told me that Zeus was her God, as well as Hera, Artemis, Apollo, and so on.

Zeus will protect my baby

Zeus will protect my baby

The crazy just kept piling up.

She and I drank the entire bottle of wine, and she stumbled back home to her apartment once Alex got home.

A week later, she miscarried, stating that it was from all of the bacteria in the well water in North Pole, and she’s not used to untreated water.  (It’s funny, she should have been briefed on the arsenic in the water, but it was such trace amounts that it doesn’t affect you).

So she told us that she had to go to the ER when she miscarried, and they had to cut open her stomach in a C-Section manner to get the baby out.

Considering she was only two months along, this seemed really, really off.

Usually they do a procedure that just cleans out the uterus, or scrapes the insides, but they never cut open a woman who is only two months along to get the dead baby out.

But this was her story, and she even had bandages around her midsection to prove that this is what happened.

My lovely newfie friend begged her to show the actual wound, but Marjorie would always have an excuse, stating that she couldn’t remove her bandages, or that she didn’t want it exposed to open air, or that she was insulted that nobody believed her.

But fear not, it just continually got weirder and weirder…

Have you ever met anyone who was just craving attention in the weirdest possible ways?  Do you have any crazy stories like this?  Let me know in the comments!  Also, you should totally like this post.

 

I suppose I should also add a disclaimer: I have been told that small amounts of wine is recommended for pregnant women, but the irony in this story was that she got drunk on wine, stating it was okay.  It is NOT okay to get drunk on wine when you’re preggo, but I can understand a small glass of wine.

 

Also, Kudos to those who get the strawberry wine caption reference.