Pazzesco!
Pazzesco!

Thursday, March 30, 2006


it truly was the sandwich of sandwiches
Once again my lengthy travels around this earth have yielded another discovery. In the great tradition of the Pizziola and the Squagel comes another entry into the unnecessarily wordy fast food menu item dictionary...the "Frescata."

After lunch plans at work fell though, following much personal deliberation and consideration, I decided to trek outside to find myself something to eat. I'm trying to save money, so low cost was the first priority, closely followed by the health factor, and finally distance to the office mattered as well. All signs pointed to Wendy's, whose salads have always been a staple of my attempted health conscious diet. Luckily, beating out a bus full of tourists, I quickly approached the counter, fully confident in my menu choice: a Spinach chicken salad. However, my eye caught the glimmer of something new, and no sooner did my sureness in the salad decision evaporate. A new menu tablet shown brightly, its white hot light calling me towards it, like the forgotten commandments left on that mountain so many years ago. FRESCATA. My mind swirled with doubt and confusion. Deli sandwiches at Wendy's? What is going on here? Had I unknowingly walked into an Arby's? No, the red hair pigtailed girl assured me of my location. FRESCATA. It's promise of fresh cold cuts, vegetables, and spreads drawing me in. Roasted turkey, peppers and pesto...roasted ham and swiss; its shockingly diverse content further engulfing me. FRESCATA. With my mind made up, my lips slowly began forming the syllables of a foreign word, like the first time profanity was uttered by man. It was taboo, unknown, with the weight of its meaning far beyond the realm of our language. FRESCATA. There it lay, within the confines of a brown paper pouch, a plastic window giving a mere glimpse of its true substance. Sealing it in a conventional Wendy's bag, I hurried out, fearful of the consequences of my actions. FRESCATA. Its strong presence was obvious on the drive back whilst it sat next to me in the front seat. I threatened to throw it in the back but I knew better not to anger it. It was smart, cunning; it knew that I was unsure, that I was afraid of its freshness. FRESCATA. I slowly sat at my desk, taking special care as not to drop the package. It seemed even more imposing now, staring back at me through its film, asking me to release it. Finally...I did. The true breadth of my purchase was now exposed for all to see. I understood I was bearing witness to something unbelievable; something forged by God himself. FRESCATA. Building up enough courage, I gently grasped its being. It was heavy...far heavier then I could ever imagine. I could feel its heat as I brought it close to my mouth, its sweet aroma being carried by the waves of its aura. No, I couldn't do it. It was too beautiful in its complete form. I flashbacked for a moment to my childhood, of all those times I ate a sandwich and never once thought twice about it. It was different now. There was more at stake this time. I am a man, no longer a mere child. With force I bit down as hard as I could, each layer piercing under the strength of my bite. I allowed it to stay on my tongue before I began ravaging it with my teeth. The ingredients mixed in my mouth forming a paste of complex flavoring. It was satisfying. It was tasty. It was FRESCATA.

They should have sent a poet to Wendy's today, for I have not done it justice.

QUICK NOTE: The sandwich was ok.

Friday, March 24, 2006


more job angering
It seems like things just keep getting worse. Last week, the head Nazi in charge came to the office for his annual pep talk/spiel/bullshot session. "We did great this year, blah blah blah blah." Well that's fine and all, but how come you still pay us like shit. I'm glad someone actually had the nerve to bring this up. They wanted to know why other companies in the same business pay more for the same work. Meaning, they actually pay you what you're worth. His response was 1. If we pay lower level employees more, how do we compensate upper level management, and 2. No other company gives a bonus like we do. In other words, if you don't like it go somewhere else. Some of us took that to heart.

Well, I know how much I'm getting for my bonus, which I will be seeing next Friday. You know what, it isn't nearly as "great" as everyone said it would be. First off, I had a better than average performance review, so I assumed at a range of 12-20%, I'd hit somewhere around 15-17%. Not the best, but better than average. 13%...that's what I got...13 fucking percent. Does that sound better than average to you? I don't think so. What did the shitty people get? 12%? And I know the credit analyst got like 15% because they are God's gift to automobile financing. Second, my merit increase, also based on my better than average performance was only 2.5%. They couldn't give me fucking 3? Seriously what would the damage have been? One of management would have to get one diamond less on his 10,000 diamond butt plug? I don't think he'd notice. Finally, the worse thing of all is that the bonus has a luxury tax on it. Meaning, I'll see maybe 60% of that money because of taxes. Wonderful.

I just don't get it. Why would a hugely successful company pay their employees like crap. That horseshot about paying upper level management more was insignificant! They don't need more money. Their bonus is 50% of their annual salary and more. That means they get half a year's pay and sometimes more. I don't think they need a pay raise. Also if you gave me my bonus money throughout the year, I wouldn't get hit on the luxury tax, and would see a lot more than 60% of it. This all pisses me off so much. Look, I'm not one to bitch and complain, but things have gotten completely out of hand. I hope you do know if I do bitch and complain I will do something about it. I already am. The new job wheels are already in motion. Jobs that will pay me for what I'm worth, not what a monkey who knows sign language is worth.

QUICK NOTE: In true German fashion, just like last year, he made another inappropriate reference. In questioning him about a situation he answers, "I'm looking for the "final solution" on that." Final solution!! Is he intentionally doing this or does he just not realize the humor in a German making reference to the holocaust? I swear, I must be going insane.


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