Did this go around in some other form a while ago? The Cheney and Russian mobster anecdotes seem familiar.

At least Cheney didn't shoot her in the face.

My dad told me always to offer coffee/rusks/water to workmen. I always feel super awkward. (His father was a bricklayer.)

1 I think she did it on Twitter before

"Rusk" is another name for waterboarding?

5: Don't be fatuous, Jeffrey Moby.

This article made me feel like an asshole because I have frequently offered service workers a glass of water (they usually say no) but I'm not sure I've ever asked if they need to use the bathroom. One time I offered a mover a beer and he said yes and then his supervisor freaked out. (Oops.)

The internet says rusks = melba toast. I guess workers don't get the full Chex Mix, just the good part.

This reminds me that my cable was "temporarily" fixed back about a year ago. There's a cable running over the surface in my back yard.

Rusks are to melba toast as morphine is to aspirin.

9: If you don't rake the leaves it'll take care of itself.

Jesus, that was depressing.

It really was.

I mean, Americans don't have rusks? No wonder you're so fucked up.

it's well-written and a light read that stills reminds you how much you hate humanity.

I can't go 10 minutes nowadays without being reminded how much I hate humanity, but yeah, it was well-written and, somehow, a fun read.

We had our roof replaced last spring. We left the guys doughnuts and bottled water, and ordered them pizza on the last day or work. I could not for the life of me figure out how to let them use our bathroom without leaving the doors unlocked all day with neither of us home and owning indoor cats (whom they might let out). I am always amazed at people, but my folks were kind of unaware assholes to service people when I was a kid, so I guess lots of people are kind of oblivious about things like offering a bathroom or a drink.

I'm sure they just let themselves in through the roof.

Back when I was building grain bins and such, for one job, everybody pissed between the same two grain bins. Boy did that smell.

We generally pissed where we were, but drove to a gas station to shit.

Anyway, at least now I have a non-selfish reason for hating Comcast.

The thing about the van as a refuge from both wanty customers and demanding bosses is hugely important for all kinds of people who are much less fashionable, and explains a hell of a lot.

Seconding Yawnoc at 7: I've offered coffee/iced tea/water, but it never occurred to me to specifically mention the bathroom. I think I always assumed that if they needed it, they'd ask if they could use it. But of course, duh, that would not be something you'd do as a service technician.

When I worked in call centre hell, in the morning I would linger in my car in the parking lot until the last possible second.

"Bathroom is first door on the right. There's matches on the top of the tank to cover the smell if you need to drop a bomb."

When I sold satellite dishes the boss was always suspicious of one of our installers for hanging out in his van between jobs. "I don't know, Gary, maybe hanging out alone in a cold van is preferable to hanging out with you?"

He just didn't want to share his pot.

I wonder if the Russian mob would be willing to give you some heroin instead of the cocaine? They get what they want, to pretend they proved you weren't a cop, and you get to relax instead of pep up.

Yes, I thought that article was great.

Datapoint: when splitting California into three was nearly on the ballot last year, it initially polled (before the courts yanked it) consistently around 15% yes, 70% no.

(This would have been two blue states, one purple-moving-to-blue.)

Argh wrong thread.

In apology, an amazing OtherPlace comment to a post on marginal tax rates: "yeeeee we all temporarily embarassed in this bitch"

This piece reminded me of the old "True Porn Clerk Stories" series, discussed long ago in the archives, and still available on the wayback machine.

We've had workmen here a fair bit over the past 18 months -- persistent leak from the roof of our block of flats that only affected us and one neighbour -- so I've had people in the house a lot. I'm always good about offering tea/coffee and showing them where the bathroom is if they are there for more than a little while.*

But I'm not sure I'd think to offer the bathroom for someone who was only there for, say, 20-30 minutes.

* although I'm a white collar middle management person these days, it doesn't feel that long since I was working in shit service jobs, myself, so I do tend to think about what they might want/need and I try very hard not to be an arsehole.**
** although, realistically, it's been the best part of 20 years since I was actually doing that sort of job with any regularity.

32: I'd missed that one.

Some years ago when the last video rental store left standing in the area I was living in went out of business, I went to pick up some dvds at their clearance sale (I got there when things were pretty picked over but still scored some nice stuff for pennies: Breaker Morant, Carnival of Souls, the 1963 version of The Haunting, among others).

Like other video stores, this one had a separate porn room in the back and the guy in front of me at the checkout counter was apparently buying the whole thing. He actually brought in a shopping cart to hall things away in multiple trips. one thing I noticed is that it was almost all on VHS instead of dvd, and this was around 2010. Was there some kind of porn hipster thing going on, like people who insisted on listening to music on vinyl?

Its easier to operate a VHS player with one hand.

34.2 I worked the front end in such a video store in the early 90s. It started as a family video store (in fact that was it's name) and a few months after I started working there the owner struck a deal with some big adult video store owner in Times Square to open up an adult section in the back. Before that we didn't carry x-rated movies. One of the things we had to do was pull all the Traci Lords videos when it came out that she'd made a bunch when she was underage. I'll bet the dude who bought the whole inventory was getting a bunch of those in the mix.

The linked article is very good (and depressing).

Thinking about the one year that she describes as good, I think there really is a divide between people who enjoy work that has complicated problems that take time to resolve and people who enjoy work which is fast paced, well-structured, and in which things can be dealt with quickly. I always hope that a well-run organization could find uses and roles for both types of personalities, but I have the sense that it's rare.

Obviously that isn't intended to minimize the other painful parts of the job, but I was just struck by the fact that it seems almost possible that there could have been a valued role for somebody who was better at dealing with the difficult cases.

Playing in a wedding band was an interesting job, because some couples treat you like extra-special wedding guests (green room stocked with appropriately colored M&Ms), while other couples treat you like you're The Help (please don't use the guest restrooms). Which is a good tell early on: anyone who treats people like they're The Help is an asshole.