punk

I ended up getting into Phoenix around 4AM this morning. The original flight, which was supposed to come in at 12:30AM, suffered "structural damage" near Santa Fe (I think) on its way into Phoenix. Once another plane was flown from Seattle, they found seepage from one of the breaks, so after another hour or so they moved us to a different plane, which eventually left Portland around 1AM. Starting now, I'm saving for my own goddamn jet.

First class is a whole different world from coach. Did you know that up in that magical play land of wide leather seats and extra foot room they still feed a motherfucker? That's right! I got breakfast on the flight up to Portland. Breakfast. And the coffee cups are actually cups, and the glasses are actually glasses. It's kind of funny how much money it costs to be treated like a human being.

I woke up at noon instead of 8AM like I'd planned, so I shit-canned the whole work idea today. I e-mailed the bosses and told them I was fucked over and they were all cool with it. Plus it kind of helps that my direct supervisor was the person who picked me up from the airport and had to also deal with all of the late flight bullshit with me.

After my pizza shows up, I'm going to take care of this Best Buy gift card, maybe buy me some Dane Cook HBO special DVD action and an iPod dock that doesn't cost a fortune. They're so expensive for what they are it's scandalous.

Later that day...

Looks like I can never order from Pizza Hut again. I'm afraid of getting Creepy Girl as my delivery person. Creepy Girl is about five-foot tall, and roughly the shape of pear. She speaks with a lisp. She is also very creepy. Why? She's delivered pizza to me three times:

The first time, alarm bells went off when she started to chit-chat way too much for the average delivery person. She also forgot my soda; I told her not to worry about it. She showed up at my door again fifteen minutes later with my soda and continued the previous "conversation." Normally I don't mind this at all, except for this particular chit-chat came with a "WARNING! WARNING! DANGER WILL ROBINSON!" sound effect in my brain. Sometimes you just get a feeling and this time that feeling was "creepy!"

The second time she did the same, but this time I could detect that she was trying to flirt with me.

The third time's the charm. Today she appeared at my door, much to my dismay, and told me, I quoth: "I saw the order and thought 'Yay, I get to see Sean!'"

Red Alert!



Creepy Girl has officially crossed the Creepy Line! Pizza deliver people do not memorize the names of the people they deliver to after three visits spaced months apart; delivery people do not think "yay, I get to see [deliveree]," pizza delivery people do not try to look inside your apartment six or seven times during the course of a one-sided conversation, pizza delivery people do not reminisce about how the last time she saw me was before her tummy tuck and then proceed to poke at her belly and tell me her pants fit better!

I'm going to start carrying a gun.

OHMIGAWD 12/29/06 EDITION

Like rats from a sinking ship, my supervisor and two other field techs took a floater today, leaving just me and one other individual on duty. If today turns out miserable because they all split, I'll shit on all their coats Tuesday.