I will be the first to admit. I was a grad student at IU. I often had weirdly scheduled night classes after my job/internship. That job was one of the best things to ever happen to me. I got to run a small completely independently funded library on campus at the LGBT student support services center. Everyone that…
It’s not often enough that the universe throws us a story about a corporation suffering under the heel of delicious…
Swear to god, as a winemaker, your dad can literally say whatever the fuck he wants. My first winery boss was the winemaker and brand owner and general all-around hat-wearer, and when asked that question by some giggling idiot, he said, “I deal with all the bullshit.”
That is actually my long-term plan, to start a company doing it on my own. It’s probably about 10 years down the line, but if the industry keeps growing the way it is, there should be a decent amount of work for me.
your version of success.
Hey, that’s cool! Wineries are a cool and valid way of making a living. My father’s a professional winemaker, and he still gets questions frequently along the lines of, “So, what’s your day job?”.
In fitting with the theme for today, I found this gem online a few days ago...http://notalwaysright.com/allergic-to-pa…
This isn’t a restaurant story, but Holly Samuels’ story immediately brought this to mind:
About 9 years ago I worked for a city-run event space in California. Because we were right off the main drag, a lot of people came in looking for just general information about the area. We were told that we needed to help…
I had a pretty delightful conversation about this kind of feeling on one of the dirt bag posts a while back. A black actor had said something horribly racist that made me stop eating my lunch and stare down the screen like it would make him feel bad and take it back. Another commenter said she tried closing one eye,…
Those chocolate jimmies are bad. I’d like some new ones.
But it’s not free if you just give it to them.
Some lovely people that we knew long ago did just that. They were from Australia which was pretty exotic in 1970’s Philadelphia. Our families were newly acquainted when we were invited over for “Tay-coss”. We spent the week in feverish anticipation, wondering what foreign delight waited only to be greeted with…
This is one weird-ass application of Pinkham’s Law.
I used to work at Lowe’s. I know exactly what you mean.
I’m a teacher (high school) and I generally like/care for my students, but my job is still a job, and kids can and will be little shits. I don’t lose my right to bitch about my job just because I work with kids.
It never ceases to amaze me how many people walk into IKEA at 8:55 on a Thursday wanting to buy a $9000 kitchen with custom countertops, thinking this can be accomplished in five minutes.
Dear God, I work with a “Do You Know Who I Am??” guy at work. We both work for the marketing department in our company and I had the misfortune to go to a conference with him for a few days. Whether it was picking up a rental car, requesting certain accommodations in the hotel and at every single friggin restaurant,…
“Sorry, we can’t seat you, since YOU don’t know who the fuck YOU are.”