Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Waiting on Ashton Kutcher to jump out from behind a tree

Seriously? Have you ever had one of those moments in life where you thought any of the following...

Those are five hours I'll never get back.
Is this a practical joke? I thought they did away with Candid Camera?
Oh...wait...it must be Punk'd. Am I on Punk'd? Where is Ashton Kutcher?
Are you 'effin kidding me?
Is this really happening to me right now?
Did I actually pay for this kind of torture?

I think you catch my drift. Today's blog has absolutely nothing to do with weight loss or anything of the sort. It just has to do with what was quite possibly the biggest waste of my money...like...ever. Here's the down low on tonight's events...I had to take a training course to obtain a permit to serve alcohol at a restaurant. If I don't get it, I like, well, don't have a job. So, I had to pay $65 for a training class on serving alcohol to get a permit. Blah, blah. I would like to say that I paid $65 for a freak show. The lady who trained us was c to the razy. I mean, really. Here's a breakdown of some of the stupid crap she said/did and my inner monologue.

5:30 - I am informed that the trainer ("Ms. V") is running late. Wow. How very professional of her.
5:40 - Ms. V aka "Satan's favorite worker" arrives looking quite flustered.
5:42 - Ms. V tells me quite rudely, "What are you doing? Go back in the back room where everyone else is." Oh no. she. didn't.
5:45 - Ms. V is visibly upset that she has to train 12 people instead of four. Oh, I was mistaken. I thought this was her job.
5:50 - Ms. V tells us that she needs her payment of $65 and our driver's license card. She then tells us that she will not accept any id that has been destroyed, etc. Oh crap. Mine has a small bubble in the lamination. This crazy lady will think I have a fake ID.
6:00 - Crazy lady closely examines my ID like I am a criminal and rubs her nasty fingers across my ID until the bubble disappears. She informs me that she will let it slide this time but that my ID could be considered an "inappropriate form of identification". What in the hell is wrong with this lady? This was my first thought that I seriously might be on the Mid-South's version of Punk'd.
6:01 - Crazy lady asks me if I was aware that my ID could be considered an unacceptable form of identification. Roll my eyes and tell her sarcastically, "No, maam. I was  not aware." 
6:02 until what seems like eternity - Satan's worker forces each of us to read word for word each paragraph in the training manual. Not sure what hell consists of, but am fairly sure it consists of Ms. V sitting beside me, forcing me to read my every mistake out loud.
Special note: Ms. V was too stupid to pick up on the fact that there was a girl there who couldn't really read. She said to the girl, "Um...girl, you are gonna have to speak up louder." Finally, the girl's friend said, "She can't read that well." Ms. V's response: "Well just skip her then." OMG! What a total bi-otch.
AND...before we could get to the next person to read, Ms. V would respond rudely with, "Next person please!!" (Insert me growing more and more frustrated. And forcing myself to shut up before I get kicked out of this ridiculous training session.)
8:00 - Since she is treating us like 5 year olds, I wonder if I should raise my hand and say, "Ms. V, can I go to the potty? I need to make a pee pee."
8:15 - Ms. V says she will be "nice" and let us eat dinner for 10 minutes. Wow. I wonder if she unlocks her children from the basement and allows them 10 minutes to eat?
8:20 - Ms. V tells the waitress that she "must" take our salads away from the table because the onion smell is giving her a headache. Seriously? Where is Ashton Kutcher? I just know he's about to jump out from behind a tree any minute. 
8:30 - Ms. V brings out a visual aid explaining to us how to do long division in order to calculate the measurements of alcoholic beverages. Then she tells us we should know 4th grade math, but she is convinced some of us in the room will fail the test if she doesn't cover the 4th grade math. Wow. Wonder if I can escape long enough to go slit her tires?
9:30 - Ms. V finally wraps up her 4th grade math lesson. This is 5 hours I will never get back. And I had to actually pay for this torture.
9:35 - I ask Ms. V if my answers are right on my practice questions. She looks at me like an idiot and says, "I guess." ARGGGGGG!!!!!
10:00 - Ms. V tells us we can take our tests. She cautions us to not cheat. And hovers over each one of us like a hawk making sure we do no such thing.
10:30 - Ms. V informs me I passed.
10:31 - Walk out to the parking lot cautiously...because I'm still waiting on Ashton to jump out from behind a tree.

P.S. I'm not a genius...but I can almost bet that Ms. V was once an elementary school teacher who was fired for her "teaching techniques".
 

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