Ahoy Loitrons! I have returned from the abyss to once again grace the pages of this blog with my witty semantics.
This summer, I’ve been working two jobs, one of which is at a tennis camp, teaching young kids to play a sport that they can enjoy and treasure for the rest of their life, and the other is McDonald’s. So in a way, my total contribution to the world is zero after those two cancel each other out.
Pictured: My fault
McDonald’s is a rather boring job. Most of it is just standing around, trying to avoid doing anything and most of the time succeeding. If the cabinet is low on something, you make more of it. If someone orders something, you make it. If someone orders a breakfast sandwich, you get someone else to do it because they were too lazy to train me how to make a McGriddle and there’s no way I’m gonna study how to do that because I’m American now (oh yeah, I'll write about that next time) and that means I don’t need to take that from these Canadians. So far, the most interesting fact I’ve discovered about McDonald’s is that you don’t actually have to ever flip burgers while working there. The grill is a double-sided clamshell, so literally all you have to do is get some patties, get the grill on the right setting, put the patties on the grill, and press the black button. The job is so easy I’m pretty sure it’ll be done by robots by November.
Literally the best picture of a McD's grill I could find. GOOGLE IMAGE FAIL
The worst part about the job is the heat. Just greasy, stinking heat. When I get off the job, I have to scrape off the layer of oil that collects on my face and send it back to the store so they can use it for the fry vats. The uniform doesn't help.
BA-DA BA BA BA
The tennis job is a little more challenging, and this week, even hotter than a McDonald’s kitchen. A lot of you are wondering how teaching tennis could be worse than McDonald’s, but a Big Mac patty doesn’t run away from you while tossing marbles at your face when you’re trying to put it on the bun. 7 year olds do that when you’re trying to get them to play a game. If you like kids, do not work a job taking care of them, because you want to still like kids once you have some of your own. If my own kids do half the stuff that some of the tennis kids I teach do, they’re getting sent to Siberia. Example:
-Taking the tennis basket on a 90 mph road trip around the court
-Removing balls from the basket when I’m standing right there, asking them to stop
-Removing balls from the basket when I’m physically blocking the basket while asking them to stop
-Removing balls from the basket when I’m pulling balls out of their hands while physically blocking the basket while asking them to stop
-FOR THE LOVE OF COD STOP TAKING BALLS OUT OF THE BASKET
-Throwing the aforementioned balls onto Rosedale Valley Road behind the courts
-Kids suck
-Running off court
-Running away from me
-TALKING BACK OH MY GOURD IF ONE MORE 8 YEAR OLD TALKS BACK TO ME LIKE I’M THE IDIOT. YOUR BRAIN IS AT LEAST AN EIGHTH THE SIZE OF MINE, PROBABLY LESS. YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW STUPID YOU ARE, THAT’S HOW STUPID YOU ARE. YOU KNOW WHAT? NEW RULE: NO MORE KIDS. JUST NO MORE. I SUGGEST ALL KIDS BE LOCKED IN CRATES UNTIL THEY ARE OLD ENOUGH TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY AS HUMAN BEINGS. THESE ARE NOT HUMANS! THESE ARE OVERSIZED HAMSTERS! TAKE THEM BACK NOW PLEASE OH ZOD WHY
RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Ok….ok, I’m gonna go….cool off a bit. And get a new shirt. I’ll see you all later, and remember, overpopulation is a growing problem!
GO ADULTHOOD
