Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Coincidence has to be one of the scariest things ever inflicted on humanity. Do I have proof? Well, yesterday at work, this old woman comes in putting bottles into the machines. She pushes the button, but her receipt doesn't come out. Even though she likely could keel over at any moment (being old and all), she doesn't believe in patience, so she rapidly pushes the button, likely causing damage to the most certainly not inexpensive machinery. I remark that she should refrain from pushing the button like a crazy person and damned if she doesn't go off on me (and this isn't even the first time that this cunt has given me trouble). I'm later called up to the manager's office and he tells me that, given my quote-unquote history of customer complaints, the next one will be my ouster. It's not like I engage in shouting matches with customers; you can't last four years if you do. I do hard work in my department and what do I get in return? Nothing more than fake sympathy and a big bag full of jack. And tomorrow, I get to go back for another fulfilling day of work.

Getting back to coincidence, what do I find on Yahoo's front page but this?

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