Have you ever found yourself at work, or in a situation where someone asks you a question, not just any question, but a question of such stupidity that it makes you do a double take. I know some people prefer the good old facepalm, but I prefer the double take, and then slamming my head off the table ala Don Music of Sesame Street. Today at work was one of those days. First a bit about our wait staff, most of them are off in a world where all they see is the dining room, it's an isolated place, not much penetrates the barrier that seperates the dining room from the kitchen, and we've had some waitresses that make me wonder just how much oxygen is in this world. Today at work, one of my good friends was doin her thing, workin away, when a waitress asked if they could stand on one of scales to weigh herself. I bet your thinking this is a perfectly legitimate question, and it would be, if the scale didn't stop at five pounds, you can't even get one food on this thing, let alone two. My friend a little later had a nose bleed, she says there's no relation to the question but I prefer to think her brain exploded.
This is not even the worst question that's ever been asked, not by a long shot. One fateful day a waitress made the mistake of asking me where the ice in the ice machine comes from, without hesitation I whipped around and responded with "Baby Jesus." She did not believe this answer, maybe cause she was of the godless sort, so our maintenance man and fellow troublemaker Kevin told her we had a little man inside that chips away at an ice block all day long. We've had other doozies such as where the water goes when it drains, what animal does a grilled chicken breast come from, or how the paper goes through the lines of a fax machine.
It is times like this that I wish when these questions were asked I could just say "I'm glad you asked me that" and then pull down a flow chart, and be able to answer these questions in a long detailed manner. Failing this, I would like to create a chip that could be painlessly inserted into ones brain, so when the urge to ask a stupid question rises, they recieve a mild electrical shock. I know no one is perfect, and everyone has dumb moments, like the time I got a job at a strip mall, and was subsequently fired because it wasn't that kind of strip mall. To make matters worse it was an ice cream store, so I was unfairly represented, if you know what I mean.
Is it too much to ask for people to think before they ask questions, do they trust me so much that they believe I won't answer sarcastically. Because if this is the case, they don't know me very well, and sarcasm will be unleashed as swiftly and decisively as I see fit. I plan on emailing Stephen Harper about the brain chip, he seems like the type who might be into certain kinds of mind control. Who knows, maybe he can use it to sway the vote, so he can win by being popular, not because he's the best of the worst. Alas, until I get my wish for the chips or the flow charts, or the ninja that hides until I strike a gong and then attacks, I will be stuck having to listen to the stupid questions, but maybe the sound of my head banging on the table will drowned them out, I'll have to be unconscious eventually.
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