Getting A Master’s Degree In Fierce

, , , , , , , | Related | December 1, 2020

I’m a big fan of “RuPaul’s Drag Race.” My mom is a child of the sixties, and I figure she would get a kick out of seeing the challenge where the drag queens perform in a musical where they have to sing and dance as Cher at different stages of her career.

We’re watching together and she seems amused, but it’s sort of like she doesn’t quite get what’s going on. Then, eventually, it clicks…

Mom: “Oh! They’re all men!

Me: “More or less. Why did you think they were all dressed up as Cher? She’s been a gay icon for fifty years.”

Mom: “Well, I don’t know, honey. Your generation does all kinds of strange things. I’ve just learned to smile and nod and let you do whatever makes you happy.”

When “Canada’s Drag Race” became a thing, Mom particularly enjoyed the episode where the queens had to dress up as Celine Dion.

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Film Lot, Bond Speaking

, , , , , , | Working | November 27, 2020

I am working in a movie company production office. As a general rule, in my city, a new TV or movie production starts up a new company with each new project.

A representative of the yellow pages calls us, obviously seeing that a new company has formed.

Representative: “Hi, this is [Representative] from the yellow pages. I’d like to speak to someone about setting up a listing in our book.”

Me: “Oh. Okay. Um. No, thank you. We don’t want to be in the yellow pages.”

Representative: “What? Everyone wants to be in the yellow pages.”

The representative starts her spiel but I cut her off as soon as I can.

Me: “No. Seriously. We don’t want to be listed.”

She starts up again and I start to get annoyed.

Me: “Look. We don’t want to advertise anything about us. We are a private company who doesn’t want to be bothered while we’re working.”

She pauses for a really long time.

Representative: “Are you with the government?”

That’s not the assumption I was expecting — especially since “Production” is in the company name — but I say:

Me: “Sure, yes, we are with the government.”

Representative: “Wow… Okay. Your secret is safe with me. Thank you and goodbye.”

I’ve never fielded that sort of call before or since, but I loved that she thought she’d stumbled on a secret government operation.

This story is part of our Best Of November 2020 roundup!

Read the next story in the Best Of November 2020 roundup!

Read the Best Of November 2020 roundup!

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Racking Up The Grievances

, , , , , , | Working | November 20, 2020

I have a luggage rack on my bike which has encountered a problem. I take it into the shop where I bought it, where they offer a lifetime guarantee.

Me: “I’ve got this issue with my pannier rack which you guys sold me.”

Cashier: “Do you have a receipt?”

Me: “Yes.”

I hand the receipt over.

Me: “So the problem is—”

Cashier: “No worries; we can fix that for you. It’ll be about twenty minutes or so.”

Me: “I mean, that’s great, but the problem is—”

Cashier: “Cool, cool.”

He doesn’t even look at the bike; he just starts wheeling it away.

Me: “Right, but—”

Cashier: “Look. The rack broke, yeah? We’ll take it off and replace it.”

He disappears into the back.

Me: “Oooookay.”

I go out and drink a leisurely coffee. Forty minutes later, I haven’t heard anything, so I go back to the shop and ring the bell on the counter. A different person, I assume the bike mech, emerges from the back, wiping her hands on a rag.

Me: “Uh, hi. I’m here to pick up my bike. It’s a blue Kona?”

Her eyebrows go up.

Mech: “Oh, that was you, huh?”

Me: “Um. Yes. Trouble?”

Mech: “Well, we’re having a little more difficulty than we’d first thought.”

She shoots a look towards the back, where I assume the cashier is hiding.

Mech: “Can I ask, how did you shear off the screws holding the rack to the frame?”

Me: “I swear, I don’t know. I was waiting for a ferry and I just heard a ‘ping!’ sound and the screw heads had come clean off. If it was something I could fix myself, I would have just exchanged the rack and reinstalled it, but I don’t have the tools to get the broken screws out of the holes. I tried to tell the guy, but he wouldn’t listen and said you folks could replace it in twenty minutes.”

The mech pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a long sigh.

Me: “I don’t want to be a pain, but how much longer is this going to take? I can come back tomorrow…”

Mech: “That’d probably be best. Sorry about [Cashier]; he’s the owner’s son and thinks he knows everything. I hate to say this, but if you’ve got a boyfriend or a brother or something, if they bring it in, they’ll have better luck getting him to actually pay attention.”

Me: “My husband hasn’t ridden a bike since he was twelve years old. He wouldn’t have to first clue what to say without a script.”

The mech heaved another sigh, scribbled something down on a piece of paper, and slid it over to me. It was a note that said, “My girlfriend works here; they’re much better,” with the address of another shop. I’ve gone there ever since and never encountered any problems.

This story is part of our Best Of November 2020 roundup!

Read the next story in the Best Of November 2020 roundup!

Read the Best Of November 2020 roundup!

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The Innovation Of The Future: Micro-timezones

, , , , , , | Friendly | November 11, 2020

I’m playing a game online with a guy from California who I met in the game.

Me: “I’m going to hop off after this game; it’s getting late.”

Teammate: “Oh, what time is it where you’re from?”

Me: “I’m from Vancouver; it’s 5:00 am.”

It is 4:52 am, but I rounded it.

Teammate: “Wow, you’re only eight minutes ahead of me.”

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Time To Put This Working Relationship Behind You

, , , , , | Healthy | October 7, 2020

I was in a work-related accident years ago and have a recurring neck issue. During one flareup, I head to our first aid person to note the pain in case I have to leave early from work or go to the doctor.

First Aid: “Where does it hurt?”

I point at the back of my neck and she stands behind me, poking at the spot.

First Aid: “We could try a realignment.”

Me: “No. No, thank you. This is recurring and I just need it noted. I’ll see my doctor if it gets worse.”

First Aid: “But we could just—”

Me: “No. I don’t need treatment. Just please note it.”

She starts massaging the area and pulling me to her.

Me: “Look—”

She takes my head and turns it sharply, making my neck audibly snap.

Me: “What the f***?!”

I stumbled forward away from her, suddenly lightheaded. I walked away, not looking back, furious that she snapped my neck without permission. She’s not allowed behind me ever again.

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