Things I Did at Work Today, Or, Why My Job is Better Than Yours

Published a cookbook.  That's right.  Okay, granted, I can't take credit for all of the recipes (Giada de Laurentis and Better Homes and Gardens don't need to know about that, right?).  And, for the record, I "published" it privately, and it's intended to be distributed only to friends and family for Christmas.  (In February.  Don't judge me.)  Anyway, since I'm not profiting off of this venture, I don't think copyright infringement has occurred.  I think.

Discussed the merits of various kinds of martinis.  Me, I'm a dirty vodka martini kind of girl--up, with bleu cheese stuffed olives.  Kathy "BP" Taylor prefers Key Lime Martinis.  But who are we to say no to pomegranate, white cranberry, or orange splash?

Talked about the jarring differences in dialects in Spanish-speaking countries.  What means "creepy crawly critters" in Mexico apparently means "penis" in Puerto Rico.  Don't confuse the two.

"BP" and I found our porn names (a simple formula of taking the name of your first pet and the street you grew up on).  I?  Am Cricket Fairview.  Kathy is Kitty Vanderbilt.  Other massage therapists are:  Buffy Wedgewood, Boomer Claudefelter, and Max Coldwater.  These are, in my opinion, BLOG GOLD.

Also, either we witnessed a CIA operative blow his cover, or this man is having an affair and is REALLY bad at keeping things on the down low.  He comes in and asks for a gift card--a rather benign request.  And I, trying to be the helpful spa associate I am (are you reading this, Head Spa Bitch??), asked if the recipient had ever been in to a Hand and Stone before.  He looked at me for a moment, and said, "Uh, well, no.  I don't know.  Maybe?  No." 

So I said, "Well, what's the last name?  I can look it up that way."

Mr. Man:  "Do we have to get in to all that?  I mean, I just wanted this to be quick and easy.  Pay for it, and get out."

Helpful Spa Associate (me):  "Well, if they've never been in before, I can save you $30 on the gift card purchase."

Mr. Man:  "Fine, then, um....let's just say no."

HSA:  "Okay, great.  Can I get your name, please?"

Mr. Man:  "Why do you need my name?  I was really hoping that there wouldn't be any record of this."

HSA:  "Um, okay, sir, but to push the transaction through the system, I have to have a name."

Mr. Man:  "Fine, just forget it."

Lesson to be learned from this?  If you are a CIA operative, your training is severely lacking--proof of my ill-spent tax dollars at work.  If you are a man schtupping a woman you are not supposed to be?  Try to make less of a big deal about things like this, and it won't seem as OVERWHELMINGLY FISHY.  But, you know, dealer's choice.

Anyway, this is why I love my job.  The pay's crappy, but we have a great time.  Plus?  Look at all this fodder I get for the blog!!!  Oprah, I know we haven't met yet, and that you've cancelled your show, but I feel like this means I'm destined to be interviewed by you.  Have your people call, we'll get it scheduled.