Monday, September 12, 2005


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making pleated pants look good sense 1981

In twelve hours I'll be 55 minutes late for work... As most people reading this most likely know I am a employee of the Biltmore Estate. Specifically the Inn on said estate. Specifically specifically the bar therein.
I have no complaints about it save two. the uniforms, which they wash and press for me, are made of a yeti fur and cat hair blend. You don't have to spend a lot of time in the imagination station to understand how itchy that can be. The other complaint is that everyone there complains too much. Banquets complains about me using there carts. Servers in the dinning room complain about only getting 40 dollar tips and people not helping them polish silverware. Hostesses complain about how much the servers whine. Then I complain about them. I have included a photoshop I just made to help me articulate how all this jabber makes me feel. I understand it because I am Peter and have been briefed on me-ness. Discuss amongst yerselves.

In related news I need to improve my nonverbal communication skills.

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