Friday, June 25, 2010

Triad of Ridiculousness: Part Two

Not You...But Maybe A Friend?

In case you're wondering, today was a lot more "chill" than last Friday was. But I have to continue with these stories because a triad isn't a triad without three.  Plus, this next one just does not make sense to me, and maybe someone can help to interpret it.

Okay, so remember:  I had just gotten a super crazy voicemail from a lady who was mad at me for mailing a magazine to her dead husband.  After listening to her rage-filled mumbles, I thought, "On that note, I'm going to lunch."  Since my job is awesome, and I get an hour for lunch, I decided to go to a Target one town over in a quest to find a shirt that was on clearance but out of my size at my local Target.

Bad decision.  First, they were also out of that particular shirt.  Second, I had another strange encounter that I was forced to over-analyze frequently for days after (without further understanding).

After picking out a few things I wanted to buy, I went to a cashier to checkout.  While ringing up my stuff...it happened!  She spoke the words that always come before something ridiculous ensues:  "This is going to sound weird, but"...(*In my head:*  "CRAP!")..."do you know anyone who would want to be on TV?"

What?

Me:  *Awkward giggle* "I don't know.  On TV for what?"
Cashier:  *Ignores question; gives me a quick but visibly disappointed look-over* "Maybe...someone with long hair?"

Let's break this down and analyze the thoughts that my brain was able to muster during this seconds-only conversation:

Thought #1:  Be on TV?  That could be cool.
Thought #2:  Wait, why is a Target cashier asking me if I want to be on TV?
Thought #3:  Waaaaait, why is she looking at me like that?
Thought #4:  Hey, what's wrong with my hair?!  My hair's frickin awesome! (true)
Thought #5:  Maybe she's a hairstylist who's going to be on TV for something?

Me:  "Are you a hairstylist?"
Cashier:  "No.  I'm a producer for Fox News.  We're looking for women who want to be on TV.  I was thinking maybe some friends of yours might be interested?" *Writes something down on receipt and hands it to me* "Here's my number if you know anyone."
Me:  "Oh, okay...cool, thanks."

Thought #6:  No, not cool.
Thought #7:  Wouldn't want to be on Fox News anyway.
Thought #8:  WAIT!  Why would a producer for Fox News have to also work as a cashier at a Target?!

Nothing that happened during that conversation made any sense.  But the most awkward part was when she pretty much said, "You're not really TV material, but you look like you might have friends that are!"  Haha!  I must admit, though, I do have some pretty good looking girlfriends!  And they all mostly have longer-ish hair.  If I didn't live half a day away from everyone, I might have passed along the number.  But probably not because I'm pretty sure that lady was a giant sack of Target cashier lies.  Other than that, she seemed pretty nice.  Haha!


This drawing is far from accurate...but hope you like it anyway!  It's titled, "Getting Rejected By A Cashier at Target."  I know you're jealous by how artsy and complex I am!

Stay tuned for Part Three and maybe something fun and random before that.

-Amy

Friday, June 18, 2010

Triad of Ridiculousness: Part One

My stories of awkward hilarity are starting to backlog, but I want to start on today's occurrences (it was nonstop!) while they're somewhat fresh in my memory.  So I hope you enjoy the Triad of Ridiculousness, which includes this post and the next two.

That Damn Magazine!

One awkward part of my otherwise insanely awesome job is the calls I get when people want to cancel subscriptions.  I've since quit asking for reasons, but usually they volunteer the information anyway probably from the expectation that I'll ask.  Today I got one of those calls, and I'm so happy I wasn't around to answer the phone.  The voicemail went like this:

"Hi, Amy.  My name is Mrs. blah. My husband, blah, has been dead since February.  Will you please stop sending that damn magazine?!" *click*

Like any normal person would, I have some problems with this message.  First, if you're a stranger and plan on leaving me a crazy voicemail, don't include my name.  We're not on a first-name basis, and you creep me out. 

My second issue pertains the vagueness of the message.  I took out the names and replaced them with "blah" for a reason.  Of course, I'm not going to identify anyone, but I couldn't give you the names if I wanted to.  The person did not announciate clearly or spell the it out for me.

Now, not only do I not have a name, I don't have any sort of address or contact information to search by.  I can't call back this woman to get the information I need to cancel their subscription because she was a jerk and hung up without leaving a phone number.

Third problem:  we publish seven magazines.  That Damn Magazine is not one of them.

Forth problem:  we never got a letter from those people who send notices to businesses when someone dies.  Oh...really?  Oh yeah, that is right.  Those people don't exist.  I just made that thing up right now.  Really?  Usually the family notifies us that they don't need the magazine anymore?  Oh yeah, that sounds right.  They're usually not jerks about it? That's good.  Being a jerk about it would put me in an uncomfortable situation, even though I have no ill-intentions or control over her problem (I'm not all-knowing...yet!).

Of course I'm sorry for her loss, but it should be obvious that there's no way I can be aware of her situation unless she notifies me somehow. It's not like I sit at my desk all day and mail magazines to dead people while laughing evilly.

Here's the "sucky" part:  this problem isn't even over.  This very awkward voicemail got me (and her) nowhere, and next month I'll be getting another phone call.  She will likely be more mad next time around.  Awesome. 





Did some good come out of this?  Yes.  I got to forward the message to my coworkers, which resulted in a few laughs.  Am I going to hell if it in some form exists?  Likely.  But maybe my knowledge of voicemail etiquette will lead to at least some minor success there.

 Laterrrrrrsssssss!
-Amy

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

Unwritten Rules of Georgia Driving #1

Welcome to the School of Awkward Awareness and Prevention.  I'll be your professor.

The first step to avoiding an awkward situation is knowing where and when you're likely to encounter one.  According to the ASOA --Amy's Scale of Awkwardness (awaiting recognition from the scientific community)--car accidents and near misses are two of the worst circumstances you can find yourself in.  If you cause the accident, you have to deal with an onslaught of uncomfortable confrontations with the other driver, your passengers, police officers, insurance agents, etc.  It's bad.  With a near miss, you might encounter the other driver when stopped and be forced into the always nerve-wracking exchange of insults or death-stares.

When accidents aren't your fault, the awkwardness of the situation is more in your favor, but this is not guaranteed.  The other driver could be crazy and try to blame the accident on you.  Worse, they could be drunk, and then you have to battle your urge to punch them in the face.  Not fun. 

All in all, these are situations to avoid, if possible.  To help those who wish to challenge the death trap that is the Georgia highway system, I'll be occasionally posting the unwritten rules of Georgia driving.  Enjoy! 





#1  It is unnecessary to be in the lane closest to where you are turning.  If there are other cars coming, go ahead and cut them off.  What's important is that you get to where you need to go.




If for some strange reason you misplaced your balls and feel it's "dangerous" to cut people off, it's perfectly fine to stop exactly where you are and block traffic for as long as it takes to get into the other lane.  Don't bother putting on your turn signal.  It should be clear to everyone else why you stopped in the middle of the road.
More to come!

-Amy

Friday, June 04, 2010

Location Location Location

Location can be everything when it comes to the development of an awkward situation.  It can be a coincidental occurrence (wrong place at the wrong time).  For example, I was at lunch with a few people from work today when a coworker mentioned that she recently saw an attractive cop and was pleasantly surprised to see that he was in shape.  As soon as she blurted out that cops tend to look pudgy, two uniformed cops walked near our table (in case you're wondering, they weren't in shape...haha!).  Awkward.  I don't think they heard, but still, were we at a different location, that awkward moment probably wouldn't have happened.

While most awkward situations tend to be more coincidental--which make for the best stories--some can be avoided if you're aware of the source's location...unless you have to pass by that location multiple times a day.

Thus, I give you today's blog post.

Some people have this idea that the south is pretty much a giant redneck bar where everyone is racist and illiterate.  I can't speak for all parts of the south, but I can say that Atlanta seems pretty average.  It's not as normal as McHenry, Illinois, but all big cities are going to have some characters.

I said Atlanta is pretty normal...but...I work outside the city.  My office is a few buildings away from, of course, a redneck bar where everyone is racist and illiterate!  And this if the only one I've come across yet.

The sight of this bar is enough to make me feel awkward/mad/frustrated all day.  See pictures below:

One side...

Reverse side...

These are the current marquee postings outside of this bar that I pass multiple times a day.  The arguments they both attempt to make are so flawed that I'm not even going to waste your time by stating the obvious (even backers of the Arizona law would find the first sign to be an embarrassing reference).

The place is as dirty as it is offensive. But does it create an awkward situation?  I'd say so...probably a more tense one than anything, which is the worst kind of awkward.  This marquee is right across the street from a taqueria, supermercado, and other businesses ran by Latinos.  I get upset driving past it; I can't imagine how they feel.

Oh....redneck bar...you're like school in summertime---no class.  But I'm jus sayinj.

-Amy

Thursday, June 03, 2010

Blogspiration

That title is a bit cheesy.  This post explains the story behind the blog (blog-inspiration...blogspiration...whatever).  It's not much of a story, but it's one illustration of the weirdness that I encounter almost on a daily basis.  I'm sure others run into weirder stuff, but I need something to blog about, and I'm trying to stick with a theme.  Why am I explaining myself to you?!  Anyway, here it is:

People force me to be awkward:  they put me in these weird situations.  I admit, others handle them a lot better than me, but it shouldn't be this way so often.  Exhibit A:

I'm in Subway, I order my sub, I pay.  I get my cup for my drink and head to the soda machine.  There's a lady at the machine with a teenage girl--mother and daughter or grandma and granddaughter, perhaps.  I wait behind them for my turn...and wait...and wait.

The teenage girl looks back at me a few times and attempts to hurry along the older woman.  Eventually, she gets fed up, rolls her eyes, and leaves the woman to go sit down at a table by herself.

At this time, there's some room (the woman was a bit on the larger side) at the soda machine for me to squeeze in, fill my cup, and get the frick out of there, since I was now late getting back from lunch.  I advanced to the machine only to find that the soda I wanted was farthest from me and right in front of the lady.  Awkward.

By this point, I was more than curious about what this lady was doing at the pop machine that would take this long.  Now next to her, I glanced down to see that she already had a few Subway cups filled and sitting on the counter in front of her.  What's more, though, was that she she had a small stack of them coming out of her purse.  She grabbed the next Subway cup (obvious to me by then from the embarrassed look on her granddaughter's/daughter's/whatever's face that they were brought from home and smuggled into the place via said purse), and proceeded to fill it.

What came next was the icing on the awkward-cake.  The woman, now aware of me beside her, decided the situation wasn't weird enough and started humming hymns and vocalizing the occasional "lord" and other phrases from the song.  Perhaps she thought that would make me judge her less.  Haha!

In all honesty, I could care less how many cups she pulled out of that purse (although she was taking it a bit to the extreme with multiple cups).  I'd be lying if I said I never thought about trying the same thing--if only movie theaters didn't change cup designs so often!--only I don't have the Southern Balls, and I don't know any hymns to hum.  Plus, I'd get caught, and as you know now, I'm trying to avoid awkward situations, not walk right into them.

Mostly, I was irritated with the situation because I just wanted her to move maybe 1 foot to her right so I could get my beverage and be out of there.  Just because you're going to steal like 5 drinks, you don't have to be rude and make others wait for you to finish up your thievery.  Haha!  So finally when my patience died, I extended my arm awkwardly in front of her body and under my soda of choice.  Eek!  Those were some uncomfortable, "lord"-filled seconds.

Lucky for you, I've taken some time to illustrate the moment: 


Notice the "Not to Scale" disclaimer.  I was much closer to her than was shown in this "reenactment," but I didn't want to the picture to get sloppy. It's pretty much dead-on other than that...yep...Haha!

Stay tuned for more tales of awkwardness and randomy-type stuff.

-Amy