In the immigration office ..

In the immigration office:

Q.: "Name?"
A.: "Abdul Dalah Sarafi."

Q.: "Sex?"
A.: "Four times a week."

Q.: "No, no, no... male or female?"
A.: "Male, female... sometimes camel..."


ROFLMFAO LOL

The guy at the grill in cafeteria

Most of you do not know where I work, that is nothing you should know, all you need to know about is this guy in the cafeteria at the grill. Everyday I go to the cafeteria during lunch to eat something. I have a tummy that is a bit out of proportion, I know that, but a man has got to eat. As soon as I enter the cafeteria, I feel so uneasy because I know the guy at the cafeteria is going to make me feel like shit again. As you enter the cafeteria, on your right hand side corner there is a "wrap-place", in the middle oblong shaped cafeteria is a salad bar and miscellaneous products island in the same shape as the cafeteria. On your left, covering the whole middle section is an entree place, a taco place, and something else, that is always closed. On the very end of the cafeteria on the left corner is the grill.

That is one place I like to eat, the wrap place is nasty tasting, literally tastes like some assjuice, mixed with some snots, some stinked up old cheese, the fat bastard from previous post, and a mixture of few other things. The entree place is very heavy for me to eat during lunch, and the taco place, eh, whats to eat in beans everyday, I need variety. So that leaves the grill. Grill has a lot of good choices and they make custom things as well, whatever you say and the sides are usually pretty good. The sides have regular fries, curly fries, tater-tots, onion rings, fried mushrooms, broccoli, and other things that could be counted as sides.

The standard menu is very eye appealing with tasty-sounding food, cooked in 0 transfat oil (a big craze these days). They also cook your stuff in PAM, the spray or whatever, a substitute for oil I believe (though I never use it). I like my food the real way, with real things, no substitutes. Well anyways, everyday when it is my turn to order food, I feel like I am like one of those Chinese who can't say "fried rice." There are two guys at the grill, one who cooks, at the grill, and the other who takes orders, gets dishes ready, gets ingredients, and basically keep it all flowing. Well the guy who takes the order, everyday askes me, "And for you sir?" Each time he asks that, I say whatever I want for the day. I keep it ready in my mind what I have to say, I rehearse it in my mind, I practice it, so I won't look like the biggest loser who cannot speak English, one of those immigrants, as they say. I swear I have good English speaking capabilities, I do have a very very very little accent, almost non-existential, seriously no one can tell by listening to 2 or 3 words; grilled cheese with tomatoes, turkey burger, grilled chicken sandwish, etc.

Though everyday I go there, with other people in line, front of me, behind me, and the guy asks me that horrible question, and I know he is going to make me feel so miniscule for not being American, he is going to make me realize that I am an immigrant, he will not understand anything I say, no matter what. I think he gets a kick out of it, at least somewhere he can beat me, maybe he is jealous of me, while he gets the dishes ready, I work in an office space with 10000000000000 cubicles organized in rows and columns. I know he is jealous, he works in the heat of the grill while I sit in an office with air conditioning and desk full of important paper documents, telephone, laptop, and so on and so forth. That is not the point, the point is, he makes me feel like shit. Literally, SHIT!

This is how my conversation goes, each day I stand in that like, the line of humiliation and hot-of-the-grill insults.
Him: And for you sir?
Me: Grilled Cheese with tomato on top of it please!
Him: Say again.
Me: Grilled Cheese please! (a bit louder this time)
Him: Grilled Chicken?
Me: No, Grilled Cheese. God damnit (in my mind).
Him: Grilled what? I cannot hear you sir, or, I don't understand.
Me: Motherfucker (in my mind). Grilled Cheese.
Him: Oh, grilled cheese.
Me: Yes.

No no, wait, fun is not over yet, he hasn't made me feel like shit.

Him: On wheat or white?
Me: White bread please.
Him: Wheat?
Me: WHITE (getting angry and louder) you fucking nigger (in my mind).
Him: White?
Me: Yes white, with tomato on top of it.
Him: With what?
Me: TOMATO (and people are looking at me as if I am a retard, a stupid foreigner who gives grief to the tall, husky, black guy who gets the dishes ready and I am holding up the line).

Then I finally walk away from the line with my head down, people still staring at me, to stand in the far corner until they make my food 10 minutes after I placed my order and 11 people behind me got thier food.

That guy at the cafeteria, I will get you someday, my darkie, someday I will.

Elevator's stench

Like I had mentioned earlier, because of lack of sleep, today was going to be a day from hell and it did. As soon as I get to work, I walk inside the building and waiting in the lobby on the 2nd floor to catch the elevator that goes to my floor, a few people walked behind me and started to wait along with me. Now before I say anything more and you all jump to a conclusion, let me tell you, I have nothing against fat people but I do have something against people who are fat and stink like skunk. Back to my story, well amongst the people waiting in the lobby with me, there was this fat man, who stood at the very end of the lobby, just by the entrance. There were about 5 of us waiting so one elevator finally made its way down, stopping at each floor, spitting all the people out, to work as slaves until they finish their 8 hours of hard work and then bring them all back, down. Well since I was the first one to get there in the lobby and to wait, I got in the elevator first and one by one we all got in, with the fat guy entering last. As he got near, a sudden stench filled in the air and made it hard to breath. GROSS! I wondered for a few seconds who farted. As the elevator doors closed and the elevator started to shoot up, we all pressed our destination floor number to make sure we get off on the right floor. I was standing at the very corner on the left hand side by the buttons, another person opposite to me, another one on the end corner and another person on the opposite end and one person in the middle back and the fat guy stood right in the center. As he came near me to press his floor I figured out where that gross stench is coming from. OMG I cannot breath, terrorist, stop stop, let me out, please god help me, save me save me, may-day may-day, OMG OMFG is what went on my mind. Keep in mind, my floor is the 30th floor and the fat guy was going to the 36th floor which is the exec floor but he looked like a douche. He had big moustache which was not trimmed properly, he had hair popping out of his nose and ears and he was fatter than fat bastard, literally. During my observation from 2nd floor to the 30th floor, I noticed that his tummy was so big, the XXXXXXL (assumption) t-shirt he wore did not keep his tummy tucked in his pants, it was overflowing from the t-shirt. His buttons were undone and hair stuck out of his chest, he was wearing jeans 10 sizes too small and a belt that felt like a whole cow had to die to make one belt for the smelly fat bastard.

The elevator made a couple stops and people got off, in the end it was just me and the fat bastard. I was hoping when is my 30th floor coming so I can get out and breath fresh air. I was suffocating, the fat bastard, even without touching me, was suffocating me. Gulp! Gulp! Gulp! Please god, is it 30th floor yet, oh no, someone had to press the button to go up, "approaching 26th floor, service stop", motherfucker are you kidding me, fuck me, kill me, why me, and the fat bastard. Well in comes this chatty kathie and her friend silent suzie, chatty kathie had a meeting on the 38th floor and silent suzie was her companian in that meeting in seemed. She kept going on and on and on about the meeting and how she did this and did that for her presentation. How she stayed late, and worked early, to make it all nice and neat. BITCH #$###%#*$ can't you shut the fuck up, I am dying here, and can't you smell the shit from fat bastard? I was about to press the emergency stop button when my floor finally came, elevator stopped, "30th floor, going up" the doors opened, I jumped out, cussing the shit out of the chatty kathie, and the fat bastard and I said godspeed to silent suzie.

I took a deep breath, fresh air, yeah, I am going to survive, only to slave 8 precious hours of my life at this fucked up place.

My First Blog Ever On Here

This has got to be something that I usually do at late nights when I am bored. Bored of everything online from emails, to chat sites, to instant messengers, to porn sites, to checking out personals on Craigslist and whatever else people can do this late at night. That is why I am here, I had nothing better to do, and nothing smart to say but to blog the night away. It is 3:55AM currently my local time here, and I have to be at work at 7:30AM, that means I am not getting any sleep tonight and it will be a day from hell at work.

Let me tell you something about my work, it has got to be the most boring work I've ever done in my life. Working with old people is no fun. People who are 80 years old, people who have been on their job for 120 years out of those 80 years, and people who know nothing outside of their little department on that floor - they are not fun. They stick to the rules, they do not cuss, they do not wear jeans or any fancy outfits with any accessories and the most interesting thing they talk about in their lives are their kids and grandkids and their yards and the flowers in their yards and the trees that grow and the animals that come in their yars. UGGGGGGGGG!

Moving on to lighter note, this one guy I work with, is hot! He is married and yes, I know that it is a sin to think about married men like that, but he makes me weak. He comes up to my desk every few minutes just to tell me how much he hates this job and yet he performs the best of us all each time. He loves his job secretly and I love him coming to my desk just so he can stretch and show me his abs, the cute abs, the smooth body, makes me feel weak. I pretend to not watch it but deep down that is what I dream of. And to make things worst, he talks about his wife and he talks about his in-laws all through lunch and every visit he pays on my desk. But he is hot. I get to go to lunch with him everyday and he lets me decide where we are going for lunch that day. :-) I like that little arrangement.

On a different topic, I was sitting out on the porch at my aunt's place for dinner tonight and mosquitoes had a ball with me. I bet there were some who got drunk on my blood while others just had a great time slowly sucking the blood and getting high. They enjoyed me more than I enjoyed the yummiliscious North-Indian dish for the night prepared by my aunt. Damn them mosquitoes, and if I get sick, malaria or west-nile virus, I am going to be angry at them.

With that being said, I think I shall end it here today and make another blog entry sometime later, whenever I feel like it. Read on, enjoy, and leave comments. I would love to hear what you think about me and my blogs, whatever you can make out of me from my blogs.