Now it will serve sandwiches.

City officials announced Wednesday that the 1920s Gothic structure on Boston Common best known as an unused men’s lavatory has been leased to become a restaurant.

Earl of Sandwich, a Florida-based chain, signed a 15-year-contract to convert the structure into a takeout joint, scheduled to open later this year or early next year following renovations.

Supporters of the deal figure the idea of a latrine-turned-fast-food stop actually won’t be too unsettling, considering the 660-square-foot “Palace” hasn’t been used as a restroom in decades.

“This is a great opportunity to transform a unique unused space into an active business, while contributing to the vitality of the Boston Common,” Boston Parks Department commissioner Toni Pollak said in a statement.

“This project will allow us to preserve a historic building while also bringing new life to the park for all visitors to enjoy.” Promoted as having the “world’s greatest hot sandwich,” the Earl of Sandwich has 13 locations, including one at Massachusetts’ Logan International Airport.

Then there is my departmental boss who sits in the same room, in the opposite corner that faces all of us.  Very Japanese in style, although he is Chinese himself.  It’a a cultural thing…many Asian companies tend to have their supervisors right in the mix of things, but it can be a tad stressful when two are presiding over six of us.  Yes, we have 2 bosses for 6 employees.  Overlap duties and decision making much?  No wonder we can never get anything done, we are so busy in repetitive meetings that the majority of tasks that need to be dealt with get talked to death and over analyzed before anyone even lifts a finger.

In all fairness, they are both nice people and not necessarily task masters, but due to their management finesse, (i.e. wrong prioritization and inability to make a decision on just about everything) I would have a hard time following any of them into battle.  It’s a little sad, as the six of us (well 5 actually, 1 person is just to shy to say anything (or is he really the smart one out of all of us?)) really don’t respect our managers as actual ‘managers’.

Anyway, all fluff aside this is an actual conversation I just had and decided to share with you.  This is very typical of a lot of stuff here and drives us all crazy.:

Boss #1: “Jayson, did we cancel all voice and data services for the property that closed down?”

Me: “Yes, all services other than the alarm lines have been terminated.”

Boss #1: “Including the data circuits?”

Me: “Yes, ALL services other than the alarm lines have been terminated.”

Boss #1: “And the tie lines between that building and ours?”

Me: “All data and voice services other than the 1MB alarm lines have been cancelled.”

Boss #1: “What about the ISDN?”

Me: -silence-

(At this point I figured I have answered this line of questioning already three times in the last 30 seconds so now I’m just ignoring shouting over cubicles again in hoping this conversation is over.  So of course Boss #2 (female) who sits behind me now has to chime in due to my apparent silence).

Boss #2: Jayson?

Me: “ALL VOICE AND DATA SERVICES…ALL OF THEM…EXCEPT ALARM LINES…HAVE BEEN CANCELLED AND/OR TERMINATED….ALL OF THEM….ISDN, VOICE, DATA, TIE CIRCUITS….”

Boss #1: Okay, I just wanted to make sure.

Me: Did you not receive all the official cancellation orders from the service provider I sent to you via email when I received them after I placed the termination orders?

Boss #1: Oh.

I could just scream sometimes.  That’s part of the problem; I have two bosses who rarely read their emails despite the fact that 90% of their questions would be answered if they just scanned their email.  Yes I get the most inane emails from them all the time asking me for this or that, and then I reply to those emails, and they still ask me verbally later.  Sigh.

It actually started with the ‘no tree’ policy this year.  When I started at my current place of employment just over three years ago, I recall that the department I worked in allowed its employees to decorate their cubicles with lights, and cards, and in the main lobby was a large Christmas tree.  Our division had a potluck and our boss took our particular department out for lunch.  Amongst ourselves a few people traded gifts if they wanted to and everything seemed ‘okay’, although somewhat downplayed a tad.

Two years ago we were told no longer could we decorate cubicles with lights.  It was now considered a possible saftey issue that could result in a fire or someone tripping.  We were also told too many decorations, Christmas or otherwise, was not in the ‘spirit’ of making our offices look neat, organized, and professional.  The tree was still in the lobby, but now the optional holiday lunch was in the cafeteria, although we had to do it in shifts and there was no longer any adult beverages. 

Last year the ‘departmental’ lunch was not in the budget, and we had a mandatory all company party in the warehouse.  They rented one dilapidated pool table, 8 ping-pong tables (each in various states of disrepair), and a few blackjack tables.  You could tell this was asian thing…it was all about ping-pong, gambling and bad karoke.  And who the hell thought one pool table was going to be enough for over 500 employees?  And yes, I want to hear broken-english Japanese metro-sexuals singing Christmas carols.

This year, there is no tree.  I guess I wasn’t the only person who noticed, but the poor receptionist wasn’t given any information to quell our various inquiries.  It’s all speculation as to why there is no tree.  Perhaps its a budget thing?  Well, that wouldn’t surprise me as it seems anything that costs more than $5 these days needs a myriad of signatures and approvals both up and down the chain anymore.  We also just terminated 21 employees the week after Thanksgiving, so maybe it was one of those poor folks that did the ordering and decoration of this years said missing tree?  Maybe no one felt festive enough to put up a tree with the black cloud of despair so thick in the air?

Nothing says "Happy Holiday's" like a car dealership.

But here’s the kicker…..we have a MANDATORY party offsite at a…car museum…of all places?  WTF?  Seriously….WTF? 

And get this, the company is asking us to come in early that day so we don’t lose a lot of productivity time AND they want us to carpool together to get there and back.  Yes, not only is the party looking to be mandatory (an automatic buzzkill in my opinion to make it required), but we now have to adjust our schedules to make sure we get to work by 7am in the morning AND they won’t rent any shuttles or buses, so we have to carpool oursleves?  Why in the heck do I want to drive the opposite direction of where I live to attend a party at a car showroom I don’t care about and make arrangements to get there and back in the middle of rush hour traffic??

Okay, so you’re probably thinking, “Hey, why don’t you be thankful you get a party to begin with, jerk?”  Yeah, I get that.  Yeah, I’m happy I have a job, that I wasn’t one of those 21 people who was let go just a mere 4 weeks prior to Christmas, I totally get that.  It’s the fact that this ‘morale boosting’ project is at a location no one wants to go to, cares about, and the discussion everyone is having is “Do we have to go?” , “Can we leave early?”.  I get that part of it.  Again, why do I want to drive further away from my house and get stuck driving back in rush hour traffic playing either playing taxi driver myself, or being dependent on someone else? 

Look how much fun we aren't having.

And why Euromasters showroom?  At the end of the day, it’s a CAR DEALERSHIP.  My ‘holiday’ party is at a fricken CAR DEALERSHIP.  Go ahead, repeat that out loud.  Now say that again.  Our holiday party is at a honest to goodness car dealership.   I don’t care if it is 37,000 square feet.  Can I drive the cars? No.  Can I sit in them? No.  Can I touch them? No.  Am I getting a new car that day?  No.  So what the heck are we going to do there?  Look at them and marvel from afar while we eat Subway sandwiches and drink luke-warm soda (no alcohol folks) from either a can or generic styrofoam cup with 500 other employees?  On top of all this blur of excitement, our V.P. sent out an email today asking that we wear ‘holiday sweaters’.  Oh joy.  How original.  How 1950′s and clever we are.  He wants us to wear our sweaters because “it’s cute“.  Yeah, and it is also supposed to be 80 degrees in So. Cal. that day, so no, I’m not wearing a fricken sweater.  Really?  This is our motivational holiday party?

I think I’ll be calling in sick that day.

Now, on to the main topic: Graduation Day.

Supposedly today is my almost 19 year old step-daughter’s ‘graduation day’.  We are all going out to a ‘celebratory’ dinner this evening with my in-laws and my parents and a few of my wife’s friends.  I only found out about this the other day and had no stake or say in any of the planning.

We’re going to P.F. Chang’s and it’s my understanding there will be at least nine of us, and I have no idea whose footing the bill.  I feel awkward that my mom called me and wanted to know if we were paying for the whole thing, or are we splitting the bill.  My wife never told me the details, so it will be a surprise to me as well, a surprise I really cannot afford.

Anyway, I have really mixed feelings about this whole thing and I don’t know where I fall yet.  On the one hand, I suppose it is a milestone and it signifies the closing of one chapter in her life and the start of a new chapter, however, in terms of my step-daughter her life is more like a comic book than it is a well written novel.  Her mother is happy as are my in-laws.  The cards have been coming in the mail, the phone calls have started, and tonight is the culmination party that everyone is looking forward too….but here’s where I fall short….I’m not sure why everyone is so damn excited.

My step-daughter shot herself in the foot when it came to high-school.  She made a concerted effort to ditch classes, ‘forget’ her homework, have a crappy attitude, always had a story or an excuse fro everything, and basically made it impossible for herself to go to a real high school.  We tried hard to get her enrolled, but by the time she came to live with us, she was already a grade behind, and would never make up the credits in time.  No high school in the area would have her.  She ended up on independent study, and I’ll be honest folks…..I took a look at some of the ‘homework’ packages and assignments she had to do on a weekly basis…..it was a fricken’ joke.  They were basically glorified ‘activity books’, and the whole time she was in this program, (about a year), I never saw her study for a single test, nor did I ever see her bring home an exam.

Now you might say, “Well, you’re the parent now…why don’t you get involved and take a vested interest?”  I actually did at first.  My wife and I sat her down and had a long and exhausting talk (more than once now that I think about it) about ther furture, her school, employment, etc.  My wife dropped her off at her once a week class, and I picked her up and brought her home.  I eventually gave up on my interest when after the first few times I inquired on how things were going, I got the typical rebellious teen answers. 

Yeah, it may not be nice, may not sound caring, may sound stand-offish, but I eventually came to the conclusion she still didn’t care and I never saw a really inkling that she ever would, so I’ll be damned if I’m going to waste my energy on this.  All it did was make me mad the more I continued thinking about it, and thus always put me in a bad mood.  It didn’t help that I also felt a little trapped being the step-father.  For whatever reason, I never culminated a ton of respect from her, and she may call me ‘dad’, but through her body language and other mannerisms it’s made clear to me almost daily I am not her father and never will be.  I’m just the guy who married her mother.

I hate that feeling and I’ll be honest…it hurt my feelings for quite some time and I still ocasionally get an emotional paign over it, but as time marches on, I have become increasingly immune to those feelings.  She has closed herself off and ignored my input and advice for so long that I began to form my own wall around myself.  I can honestly say unless she makes an effort to chip away at that wall, to let me in and treat me with some semblance of respect after everything I have put up with and endured over the last couple I find myself no longer caring at all.

Yes, that’s sad.  She’s a bright, creative, and intelligent young girl.  There is no learning disability or shortcoming on her end, just pure laziness.

So she’s done with school now.  Now what?  As far as I know she has no plan for college including the local community college.  I have heard no discussion on trade schools, hell, I don’t even know what she wants to do.  She doesn’t have a state ID card, nor a driver’s license, and shows no motivation to get either as well. 

There is no plan.

She will be 19 in 3 months from now, and has not one iota of direction.  Unless she marries rich, or lucks her way into something by fate, she is destined to be working retail and will be scraping by trying to makes ends meet for the rest of her life.  And we’re celebrating this tonight?  We’re celebrating the fact she ‘graduated’ a year after she should have to begin with?  Congratulating her on a substandard education?  On lack of motivation?  Recognizing she ditched regular school and put herself in this position to begin with?  Okay, call me a dick, but I just don’t get it.

She currently works part time at a retail store in the mall and takes public transportation during the week and has her mother pick her up late at night after the buses stop running.  As far as I’m concerned my wife is an enabler of this.  Why should she adjust her schedule to something more convenient as long as my wife keeps volunteering to pick her up?

On the flipside, she is my wife’s daughter and I do want the best for her.  I’d hate to hear she is struggling and depressed, but I can’t get through to her and no else can either.  She’s an independant soul, wanting to conquer the world on her terms.  I wish her the best and hope and pray something good eventually happens.  She’s a good kid…has an attitude right now, but most kids do at this age…and hopefully she’ll see the light sooner than later.  I just don’t know, and I’m surprised this entry is as long as it is at this point.

Perhaps there will be a day when she comes across this entry, reads it, and digests it for what is.  I hope she is both mortified and embarrassed because of it.  She should be,….I know I am.  There is really no excuse at her age.  I don’t care if she gets mad at me, slanders my name, or chooses not to speak to me for weeks on end (like that would be a big change in her behavior anyways).

As of this writing she is rapidly approaching her 19th birthday (just over four months from now).  Her mother and I provide her a roof over her head, transportation, a room, laundry facilities, and even her very own bathroom.  Because she dropped out of traditional school (a long and trying serial story in and of itself), we requested that she pay us $100 in rent a month to offset all the additional costs she has incurred since moving in.

It’s not like we ask her to do a lot around the house anyway.  I suppose we kinda figured in this day and age we shouldn’t have to ask her to do certain tasks to begin with.  I’m of the belief that we should all chip in to make our house a home, a clean and livable one at that.  Both my wife and I work full time jobs….my daughter does not.  She’s not even is school…well, she’d argue that she is technically ‘in’ school…but I don’t count 2 hours of independent study, one day a week, school at all. 

I do my laundry as does my wife does her own.  We take turns cleaning our bathroom, vacuuming the house, mopping the kitchen floor, taking out the trash, dusting, dishes, weeding the yard, grocery shopping, watering plants, and then some.  I get tired of asking her to clean her room every other week, and by now, you’d think she’s offer to help her mother or I out once in a while and volunteer to run the vacuum herself, only if to not hear us ‘nag’ her yet again.  Is it really that difficult to take 5 minutes out of her life once in a blue moon and mop the floor in between repeating episodes of Spongebob Squarepants?  Is it unrealistic to think she’d take the trash out when she sees it full, or best yet, get her own G.D. trash into the trash can in her own room?

Apparently it does indeed seem to be asking too much.  One could say she has worn her mother and I down by ignoring common courtesy or our occasional inquiries or snaps.  Maybe we’re both too tired anymore to draw a line in the sand or afraid get firm after a long day of our own work just to avoid a confrontation with a teenager.  The point is there are a few main constants we are aware of: 1) She is lazy. 2) Unless it benefits her, she will not volunteer to lift a finger. 3) She is okay with filth and doesn’t seem to get too embarrassed by it.

I once threatened not too long ago that if I ever walk into her room (random spot checks) and found items on the floor again, they will indeed go into the trash.  Unless she likes dumpster diving, she will keep things off the floor or kiss them goodbye.  Well, to her credit and our dismay, she does keep ‘valuable’ items off the floor in her room.  No, instead her floor has become a repository for discarded gum and food wrappers, empty water bottles, tossed paper clothing tags, random scraps of paper, large dust bunnies, and the occasional errant penny.  Meaning that anything actually  “zero worth  or value” that anyone else would consider as trash, finds a resting place on her bedroom floor.  It doesn’t benefit me or teach her a lesson at all if I come in and pick that stuff up and throw it away.  She’d probably secretly appreciate it, just would never audibly thank me for it.

What really kills me is the fact that she actually has a trash can in her bathroom, which is in her bedroom.  How she cannot get said items into the trash can a mere 2-5 feet away from where they rest in that room is beyond me.  But then again, this is the same girl who comes down stairs after her mom and I cook a large meal, eats her share, and disappears again into her hovel never asking or volunteering to help clean up or put food away.  I recall my wife actually asking her recently to clear the sink of items and she had the audacity to act stunned and replied “Why?  It’s not my mess!”   No, that particular glass and bowl may not have been of her doing, but seeing that my wife and I clean 99.9% of the house and she doesn’t, I was surprised that she thought we asked her to the unthinkable.

So you may be saying…”Well, come on, she’s a teenager and we’re talking about a few pieces of paper and empty water bottles.  what do you expect?“  Heck, I was just being polite up to this point.  Let’s get to the ‘gross‘ shit now….and like I stated before, I don’t care if she reads this and gets mad.  What is she going to do?  Move out?  Heh,…I’m already formulating a timeline when I expect her out of the house.  My patience is running thin here, and it’s time to shape up, start putting some effort into things, or move the hell out.  If anything, maybe this will be the defining moment prompting her to take a proactive step from this moment forward.  Oh, hell…who am I kidding? 

Her bathroom is a toxic waste dump.  Both my wife and I have been witness to what we refer to as ‘period panties’ on the floor, for days on end.  Yes, by ‘period panties’ I mean underwear during that time of the month that never quite makes it into a hamper or the wash, but rather finds a cozy place on the bathroom floor to curl up and die for days on end.  There have been a plethora of used feminine hygiene products laying about as well…which seems like an inherent oxymoron…that of being hygienic in nature and yet in plain sight on the vanity next to toothbrushes, combs, and whatnot. 

Not very hygenic in my book. 

I can’t even tell you the last time her toilet got scrubbed, and even though you gals do indeed sit down to do your business, they  still need to be cleaned on occasion.  Same for the shower/tub.  Between the smell of mildew and dirty bath towels, the ring around the tub is palpable at times.

I don’t understand how she can want to have her friends over to the house.  I’d be disgusted, and no way, would I want to sleep in that room.  Now that I think about, I have no idea when the last time she even washed her bed linens.  Perhaps she has, but never in my presence. 

The day she does move out (sooner than she plans I’m sure) either my wife is going to have to dress in a haz-mat suit to do a X-Files type scrubdown and Silkwood shower, or I’m gonna have to spring for Molly Maid to send a team in to expunge that room.

Whether we now live in a collective culture fo complacency or laziness, people call support services for the likes of all things.  And by that I also mean, they call for the obvious or just call because they jsut can’t seem to be bothered by using their own brain and the common sense that should go along with it.

Occassionaly there are those news stories where someone (usually in low income or urban settings) will call 9-1-1 to report that their fast food order was wrong, that the cheeseburger in fact had no cheese, or the window attendant forgot to place ketchup in the bag.

But stupidity and laziness isn’ just confined to fast food establishments and to those that believe WalMart is just this side of Heaven’s pearly gates.  No, stupidity knows no boundries or socio-economic classes.  Where there are humans, there is eventually a lack of perception, self-awareness, or thought at some random time.

I work at a techinical company.  I will even go as far as to say my compnay ‘manufactures’ technical equipment.  We have engineers, developers, copy writers, quality assurance inspectors, etc., that we apparantly pay large sums of money to, in hopes that they will design a sustainable product to be aptly sold in the market place for a return that will keep us all employed and keep the company growing.  The aforementioned people are also some of the worst abusers of common sense and I often wonder what our screening process is.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m no Albert Einstein, but I do take pause on occassion to note what I am doing prior to calling the Help Desk.  So what prompted my little tirade today?  Well, today I’ve been on the receiving end of a bevy of questionable calls:

“The video conferencing machine is not working properly.  We can’t see anything on the screen?”

Is the TV and/or monitor on?  No?  Go ahead and turn it on please.

“You guys are blocking the Internet.  I can’t check anything including my email.

Please look in the back of your PC.  Do you see green/amber lights? No? Is the ethernet cable plugged in? No?  Go ahead and plug that in please.

“My phone isn’t working.  I can’t make any calls.”

You do realize you just called me, right?  And you can hear me?  Good.  I can hear you.  Case solved.

“I just turned on the printer in my department.”

Er…okay?  Was there something wrong?  No?  Okay, in that case I’m very proud.  Nice job on toggling the power switch. 

“The printer just stopped printing mid -ob.  There is a red light on next to the paper tray.”

Please add more paper to the empty tray.

“The laser pointer in the main conference room is not lighting up when I hold the button down.  It generally always works, but we noticed it’s been acting sporadic lately.”

Have you checked the batteries?  Perhaps you should try changing them since it’s been in use for over a year.

I can’t install this software I just bought.  It’s says Windows XP on the box and I have a Microsoft computer.

But our company runs Window 2000.

I could go on and on with much more involved and ludicrous tales.  I picked the easiest ones here to type, but it amazes me how many of these guys are in fact engineers, or people who have worked here for years (as if we in IT just decided to come in one day and change ‘everything’ overnight that we knew was going to directly affect one random person and its a conspiracy on our behalf to not tell anyone.  Yeah, because we are that bored and we all collectively decided together that we all wanted to take these calls today as a challenge to validate our mental stability.

Yes, for roughly 19,950 yen, or $231 for us yanks you to can buy an exclusive watermelon cooling crad to transport your melon from the store to your next beach bbq or family picnic.  Perhaps the tried and true method of USING YOUR ARMS has suddenly become passe or too hard?

No, just what these rich bastards with too much money in their pockety need, a portable baby cart for a fricken melon.  Thank goodness it is exclusively manufactured and sold only in Japan.  Can you imagine the guffaws and remarks one would get here if you were seen pusing around a single melon in a space aged design push cart with a dome?  But then again, I suppose the likes of the Housewives of Orange County (actually , Atlanta) would probably parade this around.  Can you imagine being the schmoe your wife has directed into performing the walk of shame dragging this contraption to the family reunion?  I’d never live it down.

You know the world is running out of things to invent and design when Japan, the proud creators of used panty vending machines, are now snubbing the faces of sub-saharan tribespeople with temperature controlled melon carts.

Believe me, I don’t stay at work during my lunch break because it’s a great place to hang out and pick up chicks.  Heck, barely half the employees at the company I work for can barely speak English as it is (*ICE, please make note of this).  No, it’s both an unfortunate and unfavorable decision on my part to help save some money and maintaining portion control.  I’ve been getting a little sick of homemade sandwiches and nuking cans of watered down soup, so on my last visit to the grocery store I noticed that many of the Healthy Choice frozen entree’s were on sale.  Basically, I could get 2 frozen meals at a soup kitchen deal of a price at $5.00.  For those that are math challenged, (and here in CA, according to most recent state statistics, that would be at least half of you.) that comes out to $2.50 a meal. 

With a new line of “All Natural” entree’s to tempt my taste buds, I opted to pick up a box of “Pumpkin Squash Ravioli”, which by the package picture and descriptive and inviting copy sounded rather appetizing.  Hell, I’m game to try it at least once.

Well lo’ and behold, after an intense morning at work (in which I also had skipped breakfast) I worked up quite an appetite, so one can only imagine how much I was looking forward to having a satisfying meal for lunch.  Well, what I got was far less than I expected.  At first I was mad, but anger gave way to disbelief, and soon disbelief morphed into absurd laughter and frivolity on my part.  So I decided to have a little fun, for the sake of levity, sanity, and of course content for my blog, so I sent Conagra Foods a letter, of course being absurd in my own right and seeing if they would respond.  

Actual Picture of meal taken with phone

Without further ado, I thought I’d share my actual letter to them with you all:

To whom it may concern;

As an occasional consumer of Healthy Choice microwaveable meals, I’d like to register an issue in regards to the ‘Pumpkin Squash Ravioli’ I recently purchased from the Pavillions in my area.

As tempting of a description as ‘pumpkin filled ravioli with a butter-sage sauce, asparagus and butternut squash’ is with the addition of extra virgin olive oil, I can’t help but be disappointed with the overall contents.

On the outside of the package, you can clearly count at least five ravioli, although some of my coworkers swear they can make out a possible sixth upon closer inspection.

When I removed mine from it’s package, I counted a total of three (3), yes, three, far from the pictured representation on the glossy cardboard packaging.

For a man of my size, a somewhat fit 235 lbs, standing 5′ 10″ in Rocksport shoes, three ravioli can hardly be considered a hearty lunch time meal.

One might argue that between the pumpkin filling and accompanying butternut squash that perhaps the fiber content may have been considered ‘filling’, but I assure you, as a born and bred Italian male, it is not. (A picture can be provided as I was able to take one with my phone, Mototoala Droid, that is).

Here’s to hoping that future offerings from Conagra Foods more closely represents the items depicted on the cover, lest you request that I switch brands to something more shallow in nutrition and not nearly as delightful as one expects from the Health Choice brand.

Regards and good health,

-Jayson Olson

It took about a week, but I indeed did get a response.  Unfortunately, it appears Conagra Foods doesn’t have quite a sense of humor about it as I did:

July 7, 2010

Dear Mr. Olson,

Thank you for your email concerning our Healthy Choice® All Natural Entrees Pumpkin Squash Ravioli. We appreciate your purchase, but sincerely apologize for your experience. We stand by the quality of our products, and want you to know that this matter has been taken seriously.

We will also be sending you a replacement coupon via regular mail that is valid for nine months. Please allow 1-2 weeks for receipt.

Thanks again for your feedback. We’re listening!

Sincerely,
XXXX

Consumer Affairs

Er….seems kinda boring doesn’t it?  I wonder about the people that have to put up with bullshit letters or calls like mine on a day to day basis.  What could XXX possibly be making per hour to respond to addled minded complaints like mine.  She probably wishes she were home watching Oprah and dreaming about saving up for the big swap meet coming to town in a few weeks.  I’d really like to think there is a pool of these workers who look forward to crazy ramblings like mine, and that it makes their day by passing it around amongst themselves for a good afternoon laugh.  That’s what I intended anyway, who the hell has the time to bitch about a $2.50 meal?….I do!!!!!  Perhaps we are kindred spirits after all; maybe if we met by accident in real life we’d share a yarn and have a beer at some local watering hole, recanting ridiculous tales that make our lives somewhat passable.

Then again, she may just think I’m an idiotic dick and cursing her minimum wage job as she processes yet another free coupon for tomorrow’s mailing.

That my friends is the mystery of all this.

And I only had to buy 1000 candy bars

First, let me give you all a little of the setup, or background.  I have an 18 year old step daughter, whom by all accounts is a very creative individual.  However, that being said, doesn’t always translate into practical street smarts or the comprehension of the obvious.  Often, my wife and and I find ourselves having to explain things to the “n-th” degree.  At times, it really can turn into an exercise in patience and I often ponder if this is a continual test from the creator to that is supposed to teach me a valuable lesson (which I find myself constantly failing BTW), or that He, in all His glory and wisdom has a gets bored on occasion and likes to amuse Himself by playing various Prank’d jokes on us all to see how we will react.

My step-daughter also only works part time.  And when I say part time, I literally mean about 16 hours a week.  She is currently not enrolled in traditional school (she’s attempting to get her GED or diploma equivlency through some ridiculous CA government run program that screams retail all over it).  All you, as the reader, need to know is this translates to my wife and I both working full time anywhere between 45-50 hours each a week, and allows my step-daughter to watch Sponge Bob or Comedy Central marathons at the equivalent of 8 hours day.  Something that will change shortly, by the way.

It would occasionally be nice to come home to maybe …., oh, say…. a prepared meal for the family seeing that we work all day long.  Is that too much to ask?  Is it out of line to think the that the house could be vacuumed, the kitchen floor mopped, or the plants watered occasionally,…..say between commercials, or is that oh soooo busy day of sitting on the couch pondering about getting a drivers license taking up too much valuable time?  Apparently so.

More times that I’d like to admit, either my wife or myself are the ones that come home from a long day at work, only to find ourselves doing the cleaning and making dinner.  Hardly seems fair, but also we need it done correctly and not half-assed, or as my a friend put it the other day, ‘quarter-assed’.

So the other night it was approaching 7pm and I had yet to start dinner (after a ten hour day) and my wife was bowling as she does once a week on a league.  My daughter came to me and inquired about dinner. Ugh, are you kidding me??  Again, and I know this may come off as sounding rude, mean, or not very understanding, but the fact that she was waiting for me yet once again to provide her sustenance after she sat home and did nothing all day long really irked me.  I think she got the initial gist of my facial contortion as she quickly recovered and offered up, ”Would you like me to make dinner for us?”

My jaw just about dropped.  Not only did she offer to make dinner, but she also included me into the mix and not as an afterthought or non-thought as is the usual case.  I said, “That would be nice.  There is some prepackaged fish in the freezer.  Just preheat the oven and pop them in.  I’m going to take a shower and be down in a bit.”, and I watched her scamper back downstairs and heard both the freezer open and oven start.  I thought everything was okay at this point. 

I should also know better by now.

After my shower, I began to traipse downstairs only to smell something slightly burning.  She was sitting on the couch, laptop in hand, exchanging glances between the TV screen and the computer she was inevitably harvesting crops in FarmVille.

I walked into the kitchen and opened the oven.

There were our fish fillets, on a cookie sheet, uncovered or protected, with their toppings having melted and slid off the fish and began to burn and bubble in a pool inside the oven.  I quickly pulled the cookie sheet out to avoid further burning and grabbed the box in which the fillets came.

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees,
2. PLACE FISH IN OVEN SAFE DISH
3. COVER
4. Bake for 22-25 minutes, or until fish is opaque in color

That’s it folks.  Four points of instruction in our native tongue of English.

Somehow, someway, and don’t even ask me to explain because I can’t and I’m just as left in the dark as you are, my daughter skipped over steps 2 & 3.  She got the oven to 425, and set the timer for 25 minutes, yet somehow was able to miss the part where you place the fish in an oven safe dish and then to cover them.  These instructions, I imagine, were there for the sole purpose to purposely avoid the topping spill over and burning.  When I asked her about this, the blank stare of a deer in head-lights spoke volumes.

I was just barely able to salvage the fillets with only half the toppings.  I then looked about the rest of the kitchen to see what else was being prepared.  Usually with a fish fillet dinner or when someone offers to cook you a dinner, one might expect to see a salad and/or a side dish as well.  A piece of bread may be a topper on a meal such as this.  Sadly, and not really to my surprise, there was nothing else on the menu this evening.  Nope, just over-cooked, dried-out fish on a cookie sheet.

The more I thought about it it that evening the angrier I was getting, but then I had an epiphany the following day.  Maybe my daughter is actually a genius!  Maybe by intentionally screwing up this meal, this is her way of saying “Look old man, maybe you need to cook dinner all the time.  I can’t possibly be bothered by reading instructions and therefor you will be more inclined to start dinner when you get home from work and how dare you interrupt my Facebook time.”  If that is indeed the case, then she is actually brilliant and a well played scheme on her end.

Hmmmm….