08.25.2004 || 00h40

Crappy day

To-day was a bad day. First off, I'd forgotten my keys at work yesterday, but I didn't notice until I was about to head out for lunch to-day. There was no way I was goign to do my shift without locking the door to my house, because I had no idea what time Marv was going to be home. So I jumped on my bike and zoomed to work, grabbed my keys,. and zoomed back.

And ached for it. My hand sure as hell ain't healed yet. I walked back to work afterwards because I sure as hell wasn't going to ride again.

The discman I use sux. it kept stopping for the whole walk. So bad, in fact, that I walked into the ConU computer store to buy an iPod, but the salesman I always deal with wasn't there, so I left empty-handed. I'll go back to-morrow; I'm not being musicless if I'm not biking. not going to happen. Hell, if I didn't think it was stoopid, I'd mave headphones on even *while* biking...

It was a gorgeous day, though, so by the time I got to work (music or no), I was feeling about a kilometre tall. Accordingly, I started my shift on a great note.

...whic was brought to a crashing halt by some ratfucker who cancelled his order because my accent was too anglophone.

Maybe you have to live here to get how insulting that was. I mean, now that I'm writing it, it sounds so trite, and who cares about a $4 sale gone, right? Except that the comment's about on par with the 'Fucking Anglo, why don't you move to Toronto?' that one used to hear all the time when language issues actually counted, and one could be beaten up for speaking English in the wrong part of town. Shite like that just doesn't happen anymore -- mostly. And then, here was this supercilious arsebandit telling me that I don't belong in my own hometown.

And I was *such* an Anglo about it. I was all like 'I'm sorry sir, but there's not much I can do about that. Have a nice day anyway,' when Bossman later said that He'd have totally backed me up if I'd told the guy to fuck off. I asked the barista on the bar if I sounded too Anglo, and she said that my accent was totally fine, and why the hell was I asking such a weird question? When I told her what had just transpired, she looked about as mortified over her fellow Franco's conduct as I was to be on the receiving end.

Man, I worked for like an *hour* with a lump in my throat. I haven't been so mortified in a long, long time. It took all my little change to speak French to the next client, Let me tell you.

||Gods save the Queen,

back || forth

older shite

One last little note... - 09.21.2006

de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006

Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006

More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006

Scary stuff - 05.25.2006

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