Episode 6: Freak-Out Points

for a preface, see the home page of my work stories: Paradise (aka The Job)

Our self-appointed chairperson to all things, Ms. All-Star, bypassed me purposely the other day in order to get around the system and get what she wanted in spite of no one else getting it. The details aren't important, but I took a few moments in the kitchen explaining to a coworker (lets call him SuperCalm) that she purposely went to him because she knew she'd get away with it. !!!!!!!!!

It wasn't really a big deal, but any sized situation involving her becomes a small battle for me. She should not get special treatment just because she does a professional job of raking people over the coals.

Anyway, after I'd finished "freaking out," I felt a bit sheepish. "I'm not mad at you, SuperCalm, I'm just mad at her. I...maybe freak out unreasonably whenever she's involved."

Later, we came up with the idea of "Freak Out Points," and how I'd used mine up for the day. They work like PTO.
If you don't use 'em, you lose 'em. They don't roll over from year to year.

Me, I like to use a few Freak Out Points (FOP) every day, saving a few so I have surplus for those days when I do double shifts.

Pretty sure that SuperCalm has rarely used his FOP, but he may have come close to using them this afternoon.

The time: right after serving noon meal.
The place: the kitchen prep counter.
The antagonist: DRAGON LADY, a fellow employee who works in the Special Care Unit.
The situation: a lack of communication from our boss, who is on vacation until Sunday.

So, as I'm washing the lids before heading out for a 15 minute lunch break, I'm unnerved by the sound of enormous wings flapping their way into the kitchen. I turn to see Dragon Lady, smoke and fire trailing from her nostrils, the sound of her footsteps reverberating throughout the building. Dishes on the counter start rattling. The water in the goblets on the dining tables ripples violently. Small creatures in the meadows nearby quiver and hide their beady eyes under their paws.

I mentally cover my face in horror, hoping the wall down the kitchen's center will protect me from her sight and therefore redirect her wrath elsewhere.

It works! But alas, Reader (another coworker) must intercept her and her buckets of rage.

I remain outside the conversation, staying busy with dishes, but overhearing little snippets.

"The way it was told to me was..."
"Nooo. Nooo, nooo, nooo."
"I thought her birthday was on the 28th."
"Yes, but she wants the ice cream on the 27th. I spoke with Manager before she went on vacation." The bite in her voice drips in poison.
SuperCalm steps in, speaking neutrally: "Well, what would you like us to do about it?" He's taking another breath to offer a grocery-store run but never gets a chance.
"BACK OFF, I'M JUST ASKING," says Dragon Lady, at which point SuperCalm steps away and says nothing more. We share glances across the kitchen counter. Dang, lady. "Back off"? Really? And this is a conversation about ice cream and birthdays? Calm the heck down, Ms. Reptilian Dragon Fire Woman!

Even I don't spend Freak Out Points on stuff like that.

After the Dragon Lady has stomped away and the field mice come out from hiding, I turn to SuperCalm. "Ready to spend your Freak Out Points? 'Cause I would be."

But he didn't freak out. He did talk it out over dinner, while we all enjoyed his Cuban Sandwiches (sooo goooood!). He's probably the most emotionally self-controlled of us all. An example, really.

When it was time to leave, Reader and SuperCalm were wishing me good luck for the weekend. I said a grim "thanks," as I'm usually a wreck by the end of a 13.5 hour day. "I've saved up some Freak Out Points for it," I said, to which we all laughed. It's nice we can at least joke about the things that drive us nuts, and store up imaginary "points" for surviving it, too.