Not Quite What I Meant
So the other day I’m taking the express bus to work for the first time this year, again tapping another blog entry into my PDA, when someone sits next to me. He has several bags of produce with him and elbows me several times as he gets settled. He apologizes and I say “no worries“.
Apparently ‘no worries’ now equates to ‘tell me your whole life story’ or at least ‘what are you up to?’. He tells me he’s on his way to get his job back. I was tempted to ask how the produce would play a role in that but wisely thought better of it.
So I let the comment hang there and go back to writing for you good people. Then he turns to me and says “can I ask you a question?“. The bus we’re on only goes to my work and I think back to my earlier post ‘Lyndon: The Next Generation’ and figure this older, weirder, much more feminine fellow deserves the same response the nervous 15 year old got.
Now unlike last time I was NOT in uniform however I assumed he inferred I worked there by my attire and accessories (shoulder bag & PDA). So I put my PDA away and told him to fire away.
Big mistake.
“I work at the casino and I only got 4 hours training. So I told my boss ‘I’m not comfortable working with so little training’ and my <expletive deleted> supervisor said…” at this point he starts SCREAMING in one of the shrillest voices I’ve ever heard “I don’t appreciate insubordination! I’m going to talk to the manager about getting you fired!”
Then he just stares at me…as the rest of the bus stares at him.
“So what was the question?” I ask.
“What?” he says.
“You said you wanted to ask me a question” I replied.
“Oh. Well do you think I was out of line?” he finally asks.
“Well, if it went down the way you say then no, but that doesn’t make any sense to me” he asks me where I work and I reluctantly tell him and he’s surprised but then reiterates that he’s going to try and get his job back.
“Good luck with that” I say as I go back to my blog.
Several minutes later he turns to me and says “I have AVD so I don’t do well when it’s busy. Now let me do my own thing at my own pace and I’m fine”
I was tempted to ask why he applied to work at a casino if he dislikes crowds and busy times. I also felt inclined to tell him very few employers would be interested in someone who can’t handle being efficient or productive. I was further contemplating suggesting he not bring bags of produce to a meeting with his boss.
In the end I made the first right choice since getting on the bus: I looked at him like the crazy person he was and waited for the pain to end.
He didn’t have anything else to say the whole way there and left without comment.
Later I wikipedia’d AVD, it isn’t anything. Perhaps he meant ADD and was too distracted to get it right.
