We got our check, and the our super-nice and thoughtful waitress had written, "Thank you!" on it in a cheerful, helpful script, and we were both like "Awwwww" but not in an annoying couply way (OBVI).
So then when I was signing my check (we split the bill like 21st century feminist astronauts), I wrote "Thank you!" on it.
And then boyfie was all, "Don't write that! It looks sarcastic!" Then I thought about underlining the "you" but that would have looked even more sarcastic.
So I had gotten myself in a real muddle, because he was right. I tried to one-up her sincere niceness game and I ended up looking like a perfunctory pickle trying to masquerade as a cool, collected cucumber. She probably took one look and ripped it up...with her teeth!
I am the straw that broke the customer servant's back!

photo courtesy of Flickr and flattop341
***
In PWNED news, I had to IM the IT guy today to ask him an urgent question (hadn't happened in awhile), and his new AIM icon was a large, glaring tribal mask.
It doesn't take a symbology major to pick up on the subtlety there.
So naturally, the following conversation ensued:
Aparna: angry tiki mask
Aparna: really
IT Guy: That is its purpose.
IT Guy: It keeps away evil spirits.
IT Guy: Are you an evil spirit?
Aparna: how dare you
Anyway, things escalated and I ended up having to pay him an actual face-to-face visit for SUPER REAL help with a NOT IMAGINARY problem.
Sad story short, it ended up being a minor glitch that I could've fixed myself and IT Guy communicated this information to me very clearly using a language exclusively made up of snorts and eyerolls.
But then I looked at some of these (July 23 is perfection) to feel better about myself. And it worked. Of course.

photo courtesy of Flickr and rileyroxx
Help request? More like Self-Help request; am I right, Crazies?!
!!!
Other quick notes of (dis)interest:
I realize I'm ok with the stairwell at work smelling like urine. I know this because I didn't even flinch today when I noticed that the stairwell at work smelled like urine! Even though it's never smelled like that before!
Conclusion: I'm open-minded!
I have a bug-bite stigmata on my foot. It's a Bermuda triangle of itching and yellow skin pus caps. It seeps regularly, and all the bites operate as one trained unit in terms of ambiguous excretions.
Conclusion: Too much information? Not enough calamine!
I learned this new corporate drone term—spitballing! And I can't stop using it.
Conclusion: I'm not completely sold on it yet as breakout star of my new, as-yet-to-be-determined catchphrase but maybe toss some more popaway flys at me, and we'll touch base soon, chief! (sports metaphors dropped with casual enthuzed-ness are the only thing worse! *fist pumps and pounds all around*)
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