You Might Think it's Funny, But It's Not.

I've got to be honest with you. I was just going to dive right in to this next tale without any warning whatsoever, but I can't be that cruel.  This story is going to be gross.  Gross like it's going to give you the dry heaves because that's exactly what I did. The only reason I'm sharing this story is because if I had to experience this sort of nasty shit, then you will too.  You've been warned.

A few months ago a woman comes in to my office. I don't even remember what she was there for but she had her kid with her. A little boy, probably three years old or so.  The kid has got a snot filled nose and a snot crusted face. You know when kids swipe their nose with their arms and the snot just gets smeared all over one cheek? Yeah, like that.  Anyway, the mom and I are talking about her situation and the kid's nose just keeps running and running and then she reached over and wiped his nose with her hand and then she slurped the snot right off her fingers like it was barbecue sauce.

My mouth dropped open and my entire body convulsed in a dry heave.  I couldn't control it.  It just happened.  I don't think I could have stopped it if I tried.

I couldn't speak. I just sat there with my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.  What could I have possibly said that would have been appropriate in that situation?

(I'm really grossing myself out again by reliving this)

The woman looked at me and saw my expression and kinda ducked her head down and said sheepishly, "Oh, I'm sorry! I have pica and I eat weird things. Like cornstarch. And chalk! Sorry!"

My voice came out as if my throat was closed and I told her that we were done for the day and that I would call her later.  I could not get her out of my office fast enough.

I felt the waves of ickiness creeping over me and I started to sweat. I really thought I was going to blow chunks.  I ended up going to the janitorial closet and getting Lysol, paper towels and the sanitizing wipes but not before using half of my bottle of hand sanitizer.

This fucking booger eater had brought in paperwork and I touched it.  With my bare hands.  God knows what else she had on her hands before she came in.

I sprayed a ton of Lysol over everything in my office and sprayed the hall and my chairs and then I went to the lobby of the office and sprayed the chairs out there and the elevator call buttons.  I ended up having to go outside because the smell of Lysol was pretty strong and when someone asked me what was going on, I  looked at them and said, "Trust me, you do NOT want to know."

I don't want to remember that day but I can't seem to forget it either.

Sometimes I feel like I really don't get paid enough to deal with this shit.

-Dedicated but Disgusted Public Servant

How Do You Spell That Again?

I think I say "how do you spell that?" more than almost anything else throughout the course of my day.  I work in the public sector serving the underprivileged.  It's really rewarding work but there are days when I hear shit that would make you either a. pull your hair out, b. shake with rage, or c. bite a hole in your cheek so you won't say something you will regret.  Everyone has a story and I get to hear them all.  I get to hear reasons why someone had to pay for cable instead of paying rent.  I get to hear reasons why someone had to pay for a prom dress or band uniform instead of paying their electric bill.  To prove that I'm not a completely heartless douche, I also get to hear tears from someone when I have to tell them, "I'm sorry you have to sleep in your car/don't have power in the winter/are getting evicted, but I can't help you."  That part kinda sucks but shit happens, right? I assure you, it most certainly does. Okay, enough of being serious.

There's a lot more to my day other than asking how to spell names but the "uneek" names I hear seems to be a great source of entertainment for me and anyone else that I might share the names with.  

       

This is already longer than I had intended it to be, but I had to give you a little bit of the back story on how and why I decided to start blogging.  Future posts will be about more than just names, but since that's what inspired me, let me leave you with this little gem to get you started:

This week I someone told me her child's name was Elle'Yannah (pronounced el-lee-yah-nah) and then I posed the dreaded question:  How do you spell that?

"Uh, it's spelled ee el el ee quotation mark why ay en en ay H."

I asked her if she meant apostrophe and she said, "Yeah!! It's like a comma, but it's up at the top."

Baby Facepalm is all I could do because I'd probably get fired if I said, "Are you fucking kidding me?!?!"

So yeah, that's a small sampling of what's to come.  Hope you like it!

-Dedicated Public Servant