Alrighty, so to catch you guys up.
We have a new efficiency expert hired by the owner. We are no longer allowed to wear hats, shorts, or skirts above the knee. I don't see how shorts and hats interfere with efficiency, but I totally get the skirt thing. At least as far as my coworker Raver is concerned. That little rule was added after an unfortunate day when Raver wore a decent length chiffon skirt with tulle under it. It was long enough, but so stiff from the tulle that when she bent over (and she never bends any way except straight over) the skirt showed everything. I was completely horrified to look up as she bent over a box to see her black thong and her butt cheeks. Three young boys were amused, my other coworkers where nonplussed, but Bones Buddy actually had to say something to Manager Man. So, because Raver doesn't know how to bend over like a lady in a skirt, the rest of us are being punished.
As for nearly going down for something Raver did at work...we both happened to be working behind the counter one Saturday when it was busy. We both happened to intercept customers looking to drop off student model flutes for repair while talking about upgrading to YFL461 models for concert band. The difference was my customer was a man, left his flute for repair, and left with a price quote, a flute on hold, and a smile on his face. Raver's customer left with the flute needing repair, with no desire to come back, and with an experience so unpleasant she felt the need to send an e-mail complaining about the rude girl who had "helped" her. Well, Manager Man had heard me talking to someone about a 461. It's not a commonly asked for flute. Most people prefer to go inline at the pro flute level. Finding someone wanting an offset G key on a pro level solid silver flute is rare. He thought it was impossible that two different customers came in. But after he read the e-mail to me I insisted it couldn't have been me. My customer left with my card and name, he would have said my name. I also said his flute was still in for repair. And it turned out that it was Raver that had done it. The woman had been so mad she took her flute to another store for repair and bought the 461 elsewhere. That was an eighteen hundred dollar instrument we didn't get to sell. The reaction? If Raver EVER gets another customer complaint, she's fired. (Manager Man had to arrange that with the boss. He wanted to fire her immediately.)
As for me costing the store fourteen hundred dollars? A woman and her daughter came into the store with a rental return, and when I looked at the clarinet in question I was confused because it wasn't one I'd ever seen us carry, let alone rent. It was plastic, for one. But she said it was the instrument we'd given to replace her stolen wooden clarinet. I thought the store had just been cheap and replaced a nice clarinet with a plastic one. I conferred with Manager Man, who said just to take it and make a note. Turned out that woman had NEVER filed a police report for a stolen instrument and we have NEVER carried the plastic model she claimed we gave her. The instrument she kept was a fourteen hundred dollar wooden Yamaha. The instrument she gave was a five hundred dollar plastic POS. Technically, she'd rented the Yamaha long enough to buy it outright at a sale price. But we lost the ability to rerent or sell the used one we gave her.
Then there was my near drowning. Well, against my better judgement I went back to Schlitterbahn for a second attempt at family fun. It was hot, there was no rain, and the power stayed on the whole time. But Master Plo Koon decided he wanted to go in the wave pool. It's a big circular pool where great floods of water are released every so often to make waves. If you wait by the alley that lets the gushes of water out, you can ride the flood of water all the way around. I jumped into that. I'm actually a very good swimmer. Unfortunately, the kid who decided to leap in with me was not. He went under and, I'm assuming, got some water in his lungs for his troubles. When he came back up he was groping for something, anything, and found me. And my head. And he pushed MY head down so that he could stay afloat as we were both being swept away. I was surprised and got a lungful of water. Whoever said drowning is painless lied. Sucking in that water was immediately painful to my nose, my throat, and my chest. When I got myself back up the stupid fucker had his hands in my hair. I had to fight him off of me, then fight the urge to sock him in the nose. But I got out after that.
Now I get to tell you guys about my biking experiences. Let me tell you, I've only got an eight minute bike right to work, and that includes a stop for coffee (unless the line is long), but it never fails that someone almost ALWAYS hits me. The number of people who make illegal left turns when I'm in the middle of the crosswalk is astounding! And then these bastards have the nerve, the audacity, the gall to honk at me and give me the finger! Let me just clarify something for you assholes who almost hit me: THE FUCKING RED LIGHT MEANS YOU CAN'T TURN LEFT AND THE CROSSWALK SIGN WITH THE WHITE STICKMAN FLASHING MEANS I HAVE THE FUCKING RIGHT OF WAY! The redlight ALSO means you have to YIELD TO ME when I'm crossing, even when you're turning right on a red light, because I HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY! The funny thing about this is I don't even drive, ever, but I have a better understanding of the laws of the road than these people.
I know you guys are only still reading because you want to find out about my head injury at this point. Am I right? Of course I am.
Well, the week before my birthday was my coworker Dizzy's birthday, and since we're good friends and I adore his fiance, Padawan and I accepted the invitation to his birthday party. Dizzy's fiance is in her third year of medical school and she's a licensed Pharmacist, but she's playful. She has a lot of silly hats and toys, a giant air puff gun among the latter.
|This is what it looks like, exactly.|
Now, in the normal way of things, these things are not in and of themselves dangerous. It literally just shoots a big puff of air into you with a slightly loud noise that, when unexpected, can make you jump. I was talking to Jelly and Fun Fiance with my back turned to Padawan and Dizzy when I heard a loud noise as I felt a puff of air hit my head. It didn't hurt, but it surprised me. I jumped and turned around and saw what caused the noise. I laughed and turned back around, warning Dizzy not to do it again. (The gun was in his hand.)
A moment later I felt a sharp stabbing pain in the back of my head as I heard the noise of the puff gun. I felt the puff of air, too, but it I can't remember which registered first. I do remember the pain, though. Sudden, red hot and angry, my head throbbed. I screamed and clamped my hands to my head, turning to give Dizzy a verbal tongue lashing. This time, however, the gun was in Padawan's hand.
I laughed and said, "Hey! That hurt!"
And everybody laughed and tried to figure out what exactly had hurt about it. I was trying not to cry as I kept my hands clamped to the spot that was still throbbing. And then something started to feel warm on my hands. I said, "Guys, I think I'm bleeding."
And this resulted in another round of drunken laughter followed by, "Chanel, it's an air gun. There's nothing in there to hurt you, let alone make you bleed!"
Then I made the simple mistake of taking my hands away from my head and looking at them.
Instant tunnel vision. My eyes focused on the blood that was covering my palms and finger tips. I manged to get out one, "Oh my god!" before the hysterics and hyperventilating kicked in. Tears and sobs choked their way out between huge gasps of air. Faintly I heard Jelly turn to her husband and say, "Jesus Christ, she's going to faint! Get a pillow!"
And suddenly there was a voice, loud and controlled. "Chanel, breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Somebody get me a wet washcloth. For god's sake, Chanel, stop looking at your hands! Somebody, put her hands down so she can't see the blood!" Something cold and wet pressed down on my head, someone pulled my face up and my hands out of my sight. I managed to start breathing through my nose and out of my mouth, slowly. The tunnel vision returned to normal vision, but I was still crying.
I looked to my left, and there was Fun Fiance, all medical student and fully trained to deal with an emergency, keeping my wound from bleeding. She said, "It's okay. I can see it. It's not deep, but it's pretty big. It's shaped like a triangle. I don't know what hit you, but something definitely got you good. No, I promise it's not deep and you don't need stitches, stop looking at me like that. Head wounds bleed a lot, but it's not dangerous. I promise."
Well, I've had stitches in my head before and I happen to know that for a head wound to need stitches there would need to be a LOT more blood than that, so I calmed down a little more and finally stopped sobbing, though I was still breathing carefully. They finally got me up to go into the bathroom, and I heard Dizzy, baffled, saying "But...it's an air puff gun! How do you get a bloody head wound from a puff of air?" as the other guys teasingly congratulated Padawan on "trying to get rid of her" and gave him playful shoulder punches.
Jelly helped me wipe the mascara tracks off of my face. (Well how the hell was I supposed to know I needed waterproof? I hadn't intended to cry! It was a party for crying out loud, and I was sober!) She asked, "Are you mad at Padawan for doing this?"
I looked up, surprised. "What? No! It was an accident! Besides, you just wait and see. I'm getting an ice cream out of this at the very least!"
Everybody in the other room heard me and laughed. Dizzy said, "See, dude, she's not even mad! Just buy her some ice cream and she might not even bring up in a fight six months from now!"
Of course I had to get up and shower the next day. Not fun. And brushing my hair? Even worse. Dizzy, however, had the brilliant idea of getting the camera scope and using it to show me on the big screen at work what my injury looked like the next day.
From the picture he showed me of the wound and my own study of the offending weapon, I have decided that the following situation took place. Use the below picture for visual aide.
On either side of the rounded barrel where the air shoots out is a spike from the lightning design. (What lightning has to do with puffs of air, I have no idea.) When Padawan attempted to shoot the air at me, he was too close, and the gun jerked forward with the release of the part that shoots forward when let go. It hammered me right in the head.
Padawan tried to act offended when we left because I cried. I quickly set him straight on that account. I was the victim of his childish pranks!
And that...is all I have the energy for right now.