Pizza Pictures and Stories

So I work at a pizza place. When I started, I was really really bad at it. This picture was taken after I'd worked there for a month and a half. I've been there like 2 months now... Maybe a bit more, and guess what? I'm still not great at it. We're supposed to use these pans that are attached to long sticks to take pizzas out of the oven. It is difficult. Also, I'm not good at keeping track of a lot of pizzas at once. Also, different parts of the oven cook at different rates. It's kind of complicated, I promise... Anyway, ftr, I did end up eating this pizza.

More pictures and stuff...

My third day on the job, nine customers called and complained about burned pizza. They had the owner come and talk to me because I was doing so badly that they thought I was doing it on purpose. I was not. I was just really really bad at it. I'm really grateful, really really grateful that they did not, and have not fired me.

I like my job. I really do. I even liked today, when I had to get on a huge ladder and clean the fans after we'd closed. It was like it was snowing flour slash dust all over me. It was so thick that it was actually kind difficult to not breathe it in. Anyway, one part of my job that I really like is trying to balance pizza boxes and move them. I also like to fold pizza boxes. It's kind of this zen thing, this routine that you just do over and over, and it keeps your hands busy, but your mind kind of wanders. We have to stack them. I had a stack of 43 that I was trying to move...

Needless to say, I was not good at moving it. I spilled the boxes on Jorge, who was busy making pizzas. I am bad luck for Jorge. Later this day, he slipped on the floor that I wasn't yet done mopping and hurt his wrist. For a pizzamaker, wrists are a big deal.

Poor Jorge, on my second day of work, I was reaching into the oven to move pizzas, while he was reaching into the oven to put a pizza in there. I lifted up my paddle, which lifted his arm up into the oven. He didn't say anything about it at the time. I just asked him several days later "Geeeeze, that's a big scar, how'd you get that?" He was like "Oh, you did that to me." I felt like such a jerk. He still has a big scar on his bicep. Incidentally, karma semi came back to bite my butt, as I now have a matching scar. However, mine is fading rapidly, whereas Jorge's is not.

Here is a salad that I made. It's a caesar salad with a side of chicken and a side of avocado. I thought it was really funny that I did this, and forced the driver to wait for me to take a picture of it before I let him deliver it. He was already late, and did not think this was funny. Well, to him I have to say "Sorry, Vince." Also, I made a salad for Diane Lane the other day. My coworker was like, "That was Diane Lane." And I was like "Diane who?" I googled her though. My coworker should've said "Oh, Cherry Valance." Maaaan, I loved that movie. And Rumble Fish. And Judge Dredd... not.

Also, today someone told me that I look like Keith Haring, and I was like "Keith who?" She must've mistaken my genuine lack of artistic knowledge for offense, because she quickly said "But better looking! Better looking!" Anyway, I googled him. I'd forgotten who he was. He was this guy. While we are both skinny white guys with circular glasses and slightly higher than average hairlines, I'm going to say the resemblance ends there. Okay, maybe that is quite a resemblance though.

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I Found the Perfect Job

Today I am grateful for Craigslist. Here is the most recent gem that it brought me...



My emailed response can be seen by clicking 'Read more...'

Hi Erika
My name is Dane. I'm a 26-year old artist [Ed: though this is funny to me and I still kind of really do want to be on this show, I was too embarrassed to say I'm a director] who loves adventure. A week ago, I got back from a week-long backpacking trip around the northern part of Oahu. This photo was taken at Maunawili Falls, right after I jumped off a 50 foot cliff. I emerged unscathed... like a god among men. I have a great sense of humor (as evidenced by the second picture, note my adventurous vest), and older women can't seem to keep their hands off of me. This show is my destiny.
Dane





Anyway, here's the important bit... I would appreciate it if you, my friend, would please apply for this show, and please send me your fantastic application emails, so that I can compile them all. One day, posterity will thank us. *thanks to maggie rasmussen for this great shirtless picture of me

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April Fools

The ironic thing is that, while today is April Fools Day, this was not an April Fools Joke. Yes, I brought a universal remote to work and have been turning off your TV during my temp assignment for the last 2 months. And yes, my coworkers who I thought were my friends ratted me out a mere 2 days after my assignment ended.

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Jobbers

Today I learned about a special hospital. It seems like a normal hospital. It has an oncology division, eye specialists, internal medicine, etc. etc. etc., it even has a special breast cancer division. Normal, right? Here's the thing--it's an animal hospital.

Really--breast cancer? Today, a coworker said my blog was probably full of stuff about them, and it wasn't, so I thought I'd write some about them. That being said, please understand that I really like my coworkers a lot. I firmly believe that you can love people AND laugh at them though.

I learned about this hospital today when a coworker informed me that she was taking her dog in for a cat scan (oh, the irony). Anyway, there is a spot in her dog's eye which is apparently irritating the dog (though the dog is too nice to scratch its eye around her--such a polite beast), and so they need to do a cat scan to determine if the dog is going to need laser eye surgery or not. Another coworker told me that her cat (whom she takes to a cat therapist) has been diagnosed with a social anxiety disorder called pika or pyka or something (which is also apparently a real disease in humans). This disorder manifests itself through repeated attacks on her person by the aforementioned cat. She has scratches all over her arms, and came to work today with a new band-aid. I suggested what I thought was standard practice for animals that continually attack humans--mainly that she should kill the cat. Needless to say, this didn't go over well. I do hate cats.

I was going to try and type on this blog during lunch, which I was doing, until two coworkers decided they wanted to play matchmaker with me. This ended when, after listing what I was looking for, I added, "Oh, and I don't smoke or drink, and I'm not going to have sex until I'm married..." to which one's immediate response was, "Oh... well... that takes off everyone from my list." The other one agreed that her friends were too wild for me. They then asked me why I lived the "pure" lifestyle. I told them I was Mormon. One then asked me where I was from, and I said Chicago. She seemed surprised that I wasn't from Pennsylvania--where apparently there are lots of Mormons. There aren't. It took me another couple of seconds, but I realized (and so did she) that she was confusing Mormons with the Amish. She then asked what the difference was. Well, among other things, we use electricity.

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My New Job... My New Temporary Job

Did I mention that I started working at a major entertainment cable television channel in their casting department? Because I did... temporarily. I thought I wasn't going to like it, but I do. My first day there I mainly escorted pretty girls to the casting room and back to the waiting room. It was a beautiful thing to see gorgeous girls so nervous that their eyes got watery. I just like seeing the humanity in everyone. Did I mention that we do bikini casting? Because we do.

We even do topless casting for the Latin American version of our channel, and I told them I wouldn't be comfortable with that, and they said, "Oh, don't worry, we never have guys in the room for that anyway." I was also there in the meeting with 5 girls (I was the only guy) while they discussed exactly why they needed to do topless casting.

Anyway, yesterday we were auditioning a comic, and he made a Mormon joke, and then he made a Paris Hilton joke. Then he got all serious and looked at this one girl in the room who he knew went to Hollywood clubs and said, "Oh, I'm totally sorry if you know Paris. I don't know if you do or not, but I'm totally totally sorry. It's just a joke." Afterwards, I tried to explain why this was funny to my coworker who knows I'm Mormon--she opted for the polite "Oh, did he tell a Mormon joke? Oh, I guess he did. Oh, I didn't even notice that..." approach. Whatever--it was funny. Also, another coworker is teaching me new words. So far I've learned about getting some "strange" and "touching" someone. For example, "He's got to get over her! I told him to just go out there and have some strange and get over her." For another example, "I know this one guy--this R'n'B singer who travels around a lot. He's married, right? But he touches a lot of girls on the road." I bet you can probably understand what these words mean now too. I also got new glasses. I wanted to just replace the lenses in some old ones, but Costco refused, so I got some similar ones.

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The Tempest Temp of Them All

On Tuesday, I got a call to start a temp job on Wednesday at 10. Great, I said, but what if I get an interview for "real" employment? No problem, I was told, just let us know. Later that day, I got a call for an interview on Thursday, so I wrote my temp agency an email. At about 9:22 today, I called and talked to someone at the temp agency, after which I left for work. At 9:29, I got a call from my temp agency telling me to go back home--after hearing that I had an interview on Thursday, the company I was supposed to temp for decided they didn't want me. I must admit, I am laughing my heinie off.

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