Last night I had a shamrock shake from McDonald’s. It reminded me that on my first day at my very first job, the Shamrock Shake machine splooched all over my nifty blue pin-striped McDonald’s uniform. That brought up weird memories of the trials and tribs at the Golden Arches when I was 16. I was the only girl who closed at night, and back then I’d never heard of sexual harrassment. MAN if I knew then what I know now… I was half-laughing, half-cringing as I told Bald Snail and dammy about how the guys used to have contests to see who could toss a dishrag down my shirt, or the way my 19-year old boss would, when I asked what he wanted me to do next, would say "I want to see you naked, Trixie." Nice, huh? Ah, the good ol’ days.
I was feeling pretty good about how times had changed and how I’m not a shy high school girl anymore who would rather take abuse than make waves. Then I got these two messages from a member of the community:
Message 1: WTF TRIXIE! I know you banned my brother’s account. It said he was banned to the year 2100 or something….are you f*cking kidding me? I KNOW IT WAS YOU!!!!
Message 2: If you don’t unban him I’m filing a complaint to Microsoft for your abuse in your power. I mean come on! Are you seriously this ignorant? Just because someone makes an account on my computer doesn’t mean it’s me.
First of all, I have ZERO idea who this jackass or his brother could be. I haven’t banned anyone in weeks. AND I’m not a big fan of being threatened–especially for something I didn’t have anything to do with.
So, I suppose the moral of the story boys and girls is that there is nothing new under the sun, be they Assistant Managers at McDonald’s named Dave or random freaks on Live the jackasses just keep jackassing. Tallyho.