Finger in position on the switch

First of all, before launching into further work horror stories (they never end - it's so awful it's hilarious), I want to share a video. You see, friends, I watch exactly one reality type TV show: So You Think You Can Dance? I have watched SYTYCD since season 2, back in summer of 2006 - it's a piece of my summer. Season 5 is two weeks away from ending and yesterday was the show's 100th episode. As part of the little celebration they did, three Emmy-winning numbers from previous seasons were performed (by the dancers from each respective season). One of these was Ramalama, a group number from season 2.

I searched the internet and found a decent quality video of its 2006 original performance and want to share because it's awesome. Wade Robson choreography + zombie theme + Roisin Murphy = win.



Okay, moving along to My Job, I have two incidents to share. As it turns out, they happened literally back to back on Wednesday afternoon. I was having a good day.

So, first of all, something that absolutely drives me crazy is when people who really don't know much of anything about a given subject act like experts. This applies specifically to Japan, a country I have a little better than passing familiarity with, and that an appalling number of people don't understand at all.

My coworker, V, is one of those people.

It came up Wednesday morning that I plan to move to Japan for awhile after I graduate next year. Later that afternoon, for some inexplicable reason, V and T were sort of mockingly talking about that plan when I was in the room and within earshot. So, I sweetly interjected with a somewhat self-deprecating comment on it, and the following went down.

V: You should go to Dubai instead.
Me: Why?
V: Americans can make a lot of money there right now. And you could probably meet a rich guy to marry, and then never have to work again!

I think my horror was visible on my face, because she moved on to the topic of Japan before I could say anything.

V: You know, I've been to Asia, but I've just never been interested in Japan. I mean, if I'm going to have to spend thirty dollars on a hamburger, it's just not worth it.
Me: ...I've never even seen a thirty dollar hamburger.
V: Well, my friend went to Tokyo and he told me that you can't find meat anywhere, and everything is way too expensive, and I can't imagine anyone wanting to move there because rent is, like, 8,000 dollars a month and you can't really own property anyway. They're so crazy there, and everyone must be really rich to afford it.
Me: Um, that's not really true. I mean, there are places where things are super expensive, just like in America, but it's definitely not the norm. I was there for four months last year and I didn't have that kind of trouble, anyway.
V: Oh, but you must have spent all your time in a foreigner-targeted area.
Me: No, actually, I lived in a fairly small city with a tiny foreign population. Japan really isn't like that.
V: That's not what my friend said.

At which point, I gave up because there is no reasoning with people like her.

Then, just to make my day complete, T gave me another reason not to like her. One of the medical assistants is Vietnamese, loud, funny, outrageous and very gay (I'll call him Ty, which is how his name is pronounced, but not how it's spelled). Anyway, he was talking on Wednesday about his plan to get married next August. T is an evangelist and, more or less out of nowhere, launched into something that really pissed me off.

T: You know something? Ty told me about his wedding and asked if I'd want to go. Can you believe he even brought it up with me? I mean, he knows who I am and that I don't believe in that.
V: What's there to believe in? I don't believe in your church, but I don't get mad at you for it.
T: That's totally different. He can't really get married, anyway, so it doesn't mean anything, but I still can't believe he'd even mention it to me. It's so wrong.

At which point V bitched her out. It was kind of amazing and partially redeemed V in my eyes. But, yeah, I took that as my cue to go on break.

This entry was brought to you by the letter Ignorance and the number Fail.