Dispatches from a Foreign Land

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Ah, I see.  I was thinking the red meat would make Mike suffer more, but it looks like you'd get the brunt of it.

Oh, yeah.  It's pretty damn painful.

Tomorrow, we actually go to work.  For two days.  Then one more day of fucking off, then the 14 hour horrorshow.

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

You'd think he would know better by now.

You'd think.  So I'm going to suffer through breast of chicken in sesame, and he's going to have fun tomorrow.

More fun that he really wanted, I mean.

Also, hotels here do not have laundry rooms.  This came as quite a shock to me.

*stops before reading remainder of thread*

Squees in delight

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

Can't you drop Mike down an oubliette or something? All those castles and not a single convenient place to drop a turd. I'm glad everything else seems to be going well, though.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Can't you drop Mike down an oubliette or something? All those castles and not a single convenient place to drop a turd. I'm glad everything else seems to be going well, though.

Well, Mike managed to hand me my revenge all gold-plated and shit.

The new machine has two significant improvements over our own method, one of which is AMAZING, the other is handy.

Guess which one Mike didn't have quoted to save a few bucks?  I have spent the entire day rolling his fat ass around in his own poop.

[LMNO]

Excellent!

[The Good Reverend Roger]

In 2002, I learned to never go drinking beer with Germans on a weeknight.

Somehow, I forgot that lesson.  I will be a sick puppy in the morning.  One fun thing, though, was the new guy from the vendor using the term Dalak used here to describe drug use:  "testing".

I informed him that we do not "test a chemical", we "do all the drugs we can motherfucking handle".  There is no "testing".  This is a PARTY, not a LABORATORY. 

Kids these days.  DOING IT WRONG.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

In 2002, I learned to never go drinking beer with Germans on a weeknight.

Somehow, I forgot that lesson.  I will be a sick puppy in the morning.  One fun thing, though, was the new guy from the vendor using the term Dalak used here to describe drug use:  "testing".

I informed him that we do not "test a chemical", we "do all the drugs we can motherfucking handle".  There is no "testing".  This is a PARTY, not a LABORATORY. 

Kids these days.  DOING IT WRONG.

Seriously, that is the most irritating thing.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Back in Frankfurt proper, at the hideously over-priced and gaudy Hilton Gardens.  The restaurant serves a checken caesar salad for a measly $23.86 American, and the room is just a little smaller than I'd expect on a cruise ship.  I am no longer in Germany, I am in an adjunct of America.  An extrusion, if you will.   All the rudeness, the "here to go" mentality.  Only the nice young lady at the bookstore seemed to actually be human. 

You could have a zombiepocalypse here, and nobody would notice.

Interesting note:  Lots of young German salary-men walking around.  I've spent some time with them, and I am apparently considered some kind of big wheel, because I do not have limits on my expense account.  They must ensure that every meal is below a certain amount of Euro based on their rank, etc.  They have a uniform.  Black suit, white shirt, subdued tie, and they are all painfully thin.

Also, it was brought to my attention that Mike is and has been quite afraid of me on a physical level, and intimidated on a professional level, which would certainly explain a lot of his behavior over the years.  I snapped at him in a meeting this morning (I needed information from the vendor's engineer, Mike kept interrupting to show how big his slide rule is), and he's been sulking all day.  Steve takes me aside and tells me that Mike was basically shitting himself.

This surprises me, to be perfectly honest.  Mike lives in a world where violence does not even exist in an abstract form.  It is something that happens where smudgy people live.  To him, studliness is measured in the size of your car and the expense of your watch.  I am more than a little shocked that he even contemplated violence being performed on him by me or anyone else.

And of course I had no intention or even a real urge to do so.  But I snapped at him, and he interpreted it as a threatening situation.  Which is strange to me, because I do not consider myself a very scary person.  Felipe is ten times meaner looking.

Last thing:  Mike tucks his napkin into his shirt like a bib.  He has to.  His food goes everywhere.  It's embarrassing.

[Reginald Ret]

Back in Frankfurt proper, at the hideously over-priced and gaudy Hilton Gardens.  The restaurant serves a checken caesar salad for a measly $23.86 American, and the room is just a little smaller than I'd expect on a cruise ship.  I am no longer in Germany, I am in an adjunct of America.  An extrusion, if you will.   All the rudeness, the "here to go" mentality.  Only the nice young lady at the bookstore seemed to actually be human. 

You could have a zombiepocalypse here, and nobody would notice.

Interesting note:  Lots of young German salary-men walking around.  I've spent some time with them, and I am apparently considered some kind of big wheel, because I do not have limits on my expense account.  They must ensure that every meal is below a certain amount of Euro based on their rank, etc.  They have a uniform.  Black suit, white shirt, subdued tie, and they are all painfully thin.

Also, it was brought to my attention that Mike is and has been quite afraid of me on a physical level, and intimidated on a professional level, which would certainly explain a lot of his behavior over the years.  I snapped at him in a meeting this morning (I needed information from the vendor's engineer, Mike kept interrupting to show how big his slide rule is), and he's been sulking all day.  Steve takes me aside and tells me that Mike was basically shitting himself.

This surprises me, to be perfectly honest.  Mike lives in a world where violence does not even exist in an abstract form.  It is something that happens where smudgy people live.  To him, studliness is measured in the size of your car and the expense of your watch.  I am more than a little shocked that he even contemplated violence being performed on him by me or anyone else.

And of course I had no intention or even a real urge to do so.  But I snapped at him, and he interpreted it as a threatening situation.  Which is strange to me, because I do not consider myself a very scary person.  Felipe is ten times meaner looking.

Last thing:  Mike tucks his napkin into his shirt like a bib.  He has to.  His food goes everywhere.  It's embarrassing.

I love reading about Mike.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Poor Mike. He's the very definition of "pathetic".

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

And "craven". 

Hey, is everybody really rigid about punctuality over there? Somebody told me they suggested going to get something to eat, and the reply was "No, it's fifteen till six. We eat at six o'clock."

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

And "craven". 

Hey, is everybody really rigid about punctuality over there? Somebody told me they suggested going to get something to eat, and the reply was "No, it's fifteen till six. We eat at six o'clock."

They had to have been fucking with her!

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I FUCKING HATE HEATHROW.   HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Now in San Francisco.  Airport code SFO.   

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

And "craven". 

Hey, is everybody really rigid about punctuality over there? Somebody told me they suggested going to get something to eat, and the reply was "No, it's fifteen till six. We eat at six o'clock."

They had to have been fucking with her!

I hope so.
Because I want to believe things are better someplace, and not just a different kind of fucked.