Adventures in Paradise...Bakery

Earlier this week, someone needed to pick up lunch for a meeting we had going on in our office.  Usually another lady takes care of lunch stuff, but she was out sick.  (We missed her a lot.)  Therefore, I was the lucky one chosen to get the food.  We have a Paradise Bakery right around the corner from work, so it was not big deal.  Or at least, it wouldn't have been for a normal person.  Ha.

I walked in and found out that the menu we were basing the order off of was the catering menu, not the normal cafe menu.  Snafu #1.  Luckily, one of the workers (he looked like a manager) took pity on me, probably seeing the desperation in my eyes and the green Heliae shirt, and majorly helped me out.  He got the order all filled out and sent me over to pay.  I picked up a sandwich for myself (might as well...) and walked over to the cash register.  Snafu #2: my purse is huge, and I was now carrying a menu, a paper with our order on it, my sandwich and cookie, and trying to pay and get drink cups and all.  Again, the nice girl at the cash register took pity and was very helpful.  It was only then that I realized my biggest problem yet: the tea.

Two people wanted iced tea.  Now, my only experience with iced tea has been A) seeing other people drink it, and B) passing it by as an option at the soda fountain.  Snafu #3:  the soda fountain at Paradise Bakery does not have a tea option.  Instead, they have four huge metal canister-looking things with tea in them.  I literally sat and stared at them for a few minutes, totally at a loss.  

"Sure," I thought, "send the only girl who doesn't drink tea to get some for two of our VPs."  

I was about to call my boss and ask her what to do (she drinks iced tea all the time), but I realized that I left my phone sitting on my desk at work.  Great.  I finally just filled some cups with ice (going on a brain wave that iced tea is just normal tea, but with ice--brilliant, I know) and went for the plainest brew I could find and hoped it would work.  I also had a great conversation with someone else at the drink area.

Random Guy: So, you're not getting any of these? [motioning to the soda options]

Me: Nope, I'm not.  I'm getting iced tea, except I don't drink tea and have no idea what I'm doing.

Random Guy: Oh, OK....

Yeah, I pretty much just gave up on looking like a competent adult in any measure.  

In the end, I think everyone got what they wanted (at least I didn't hear any complaints) and I got a delicious Paradise Club sandwich to replace my PB&J.  Oh, and an opportunity to turn in my first ever expense report!  Get excited!

And who says office jobs are boring?

I Guess I Am 21, But...

In the process of cleaning my room, I found a little velvet-ish bag full of "precious stones" (a.k.a. pretty rocks) that I got sometime in elementary school at the Arizona Science Center. They actually do look pretty cool, so my mom and I have been looking for something to display them in. This is what we found at Target today (complete with pretty rocks):


It looks pretty cool, right? Now, some of you might have noticed something...particular about the shape and size. Yes, it's a shooter. (Or shot glass or whatever you want to call it.) That is what brings us to the story of the day. (Tadaaaa! I know you've all been missing my stories.)

Mom and I were passing through the dishes at Target, looking at all the pretty stuff (with me stopping about every 5 feet and saying "Mom, look. This is pretty. I like it. That is all." I'm good at that.) Mom says, "Oh, look, this is cool! It would probably work for your rocks."

I say, "Mom, that's a shooter."

"That doesn't matter. You don't have to get it, I just thought it looked cool."

I think it's kind-of funny, and it does look cool, so I stick it in the cart. The following conversation took place between me and the Target cashier approximately 3 minutes later.

Cashier: Hi! Did you find everything OK?
Me: Yeah, I think so.
Cashier: Ooh, nice shooter.
Me: [mortified and trying to defend myself because I don't want her to think I'm going to use it for alcohol, even though it doesn't really matter] Oh, yeah. We're thinking up interesting ways to use things in my house. [Really?! I think to myself. That's supposed to be better?! Now it just sounds 50 times worse! Sheesh.]Cashier: What?
Me: [I try to think of a way to change it, but just end up repeating the same stupid answer] You know. [silently dying...]
Cashier: Oh, no, you can do whatever you want. Your total is...

Oh boy. I do have a way with words, don't I?

Uh...

Apparently that test this morning completely wiped out my brain function for the rest of the day. A guy called at work and I had to have him repeat everything he said. Multiple times. I felt like an idiot--and basically said so on the phone. (My standard cover for zoning out is "I'm sorry, my brain just checked out. Can you repeat that please?" Yeah, it get's a little humiliating--especially when that person repeats things v e r y s l o w l y to make sure you're getting it.) And then--OK, I'm in story mode now.

Scene: Circle K on my way home from work. I need to get gas.
Me: [thinking] Hmm...what am I supposed to do first? (Can you tell it's been a while since I've done this?) Reading, reading...ah. [Swipe the card, authorize, blah blah blah. The pump is now telling me "select the grade and remove the nozzle" so I can pump the gas. I take out the nozzle thing and try to push the grade I want. Nothing happens. I push it again, feeling like an idiot since I can tell it's not what I'm supposed to be doing. I look around me. A girl pulls up next to me and I listen intently to try to figure out what to do. Still can't figure it out. I push the little "Help" button in a futile attempt to...well, get some help. (I'm really hoping it just puts up a new message on the screen instead of calling out an attendant, although at this point I'm almost up for anything.) I flip up the little stand thing the nozzle was resting on and flip it back down. Some gas comes out, but the pump is now telling me that the transaction has been canceled.] Canceled? How the heck did that happen?

[I start all over again. Still don't know what I'm doing. Feeling dumber with every passing second. The girl pumping gas next to me has now returned from the convenience store with a drink--I've obviously been standing here for a while. Giving up all pretense of dignity, I cross over the little cement divider between the pumps.]

Me: Um, I have a really stupid question for you.
Girl: Ok...
Me: I can't figure out how to get the gas out. Can you help me?
Girl: Sure.
[We walk to the other side, she looks at my situation]
Me: It says to select the grade but I can't figure out how to...
Girl: Oh, you just flip this thing up. [which she does]
Me: Oh. Duh. Thanks!
[She walks away, probably shaking her head at me and texting her friend with a story about this retarded girl at the gas station...]
Yeah, how sad is that? But funny. I probably should be more embarrassed than amused by this, but oh well.