Oh, The Irony!

With the economy still in the pits (whether realistically or simply in the minds of the employers and their terrified minions, it's hard to tell), and the H1N1 flu scare ramping up, sometimes the irony of the situtation in the workplace gets to the point where it's so glaringly obvious, I have to fight the urge to say "Really??? Does no one see the irony here?!"

Take for example my lovely workplace, which at the inital outbreak of H1n1 back in April decided to be pro-active and post numerous public health signs about how to properly sneeze and to wash your hands (things that make me loose a little more faith in humanity, considering that we need signs of instruction for such behaviour in the first place), as well as installing hand sanitizer pumps at each corner of the room. We were also greeted with signage and verbalized warnings of "if you're feeling sick, don't come in, stay home." Great advice, except for the threat of "attendance issues" if you do not give 24 hours notice of not being able to attend that day, and requiring a doctor's note if you need to be away for 3 days or more. Who wants to risk loosing their job for getting sick within 24 hours of a shift, or having to cart your sick, flu-ridden butt to the doctor to pay 20 dollars for a doctor's note and risk putting other people in jeopardy by spreading your disease in public places? Oh yeah, and on top of that, our workplace does not offer sick days. Easy for someone on salary with benefits and sick days to spare; but when I don't come into work, I don't get paid. In this situation, who wouldn't feel inclined to just suck it up and go to work sick? No wonder over 25% of the population has said they would go to work with H1N1 symptoms. Perhaps it's not the employers who should be lecturing the employees, but rather the other way around.

Today another thing got me that made my skin just itch with hypocracy. After ramping up our anti-H1N1 campaign to making us wipe down our desks each day with lysol (great step, and once again something I've done personally since day one of working there), our work decides to make us take part in a mandatory potluck for Halloween. Meaning, here's a list of food, you have no choice but to pick an item, buy it to supply 20 people, and lug it to work on the TTC tomorrow. Great fun. Now not only can I not afford to stay home from work if sick, but with the crappy pay I'm getting due to a "poor economy", I have to bring in lunch for 20.

Well I opted for juice. Even though I don't drink it, it was cheap, give me a break ;)

Our potluck consisted of trays of veggies, bowls of chips, fruit and crackers. All served by our Anti H1N1-toting boss who provided no serving tongs. After watching several employees dig in using their hands to serve themselves, including Anti H1N1-toting boss, I quickly lost my appetite.

Timmy Horton's Etiquette 101

Tim Horton's may be Canadian's favourite joint on the block, but I fear a little bit of that American ownership rubbed off on us customers, unbeknownest to us. I visit the local Timmy's for my pre-work morning coffee nearly every morning of the week, like a good little Canadian, and I've recently noted a disturbing trend - simply put, Timmy's etiquette at my local has gone down the tube.

Take, for example, the day a co-worker and I were standing in line - nothing out of the ordinary, waiting for the next available cashier. At the sound of "next, please!", my co-worker and I halted our conversation and turned our attention to the cashiers' area. In the 1.7 seconds or less it took for natural reaction time, a woman behind us, who clearly possessed the reaction time of a puma, annoyingly whined "She saaaaid, YOU'RE NEXT". Thank you superwench. Wouldn't want to play against you in a video game, you'd probably whoop my delayed-reaction time butt.

Or again, the following morning. As I waited by myself in line, I removed my headphones so as to ensure being able to hear the cashier's call, considering that I too have been largely annoyed by those who stand oblivious to the call as they rock out to the latest German rock gem to hit this side of the Atlantic. When I finally heard the enviable "next!", I almost instantaneously felt a swift swipe across the back of my arm - one hard enough to cause a sharp sting. As I looked back in surprise, I was faced with large man glowering down at me, the kind of look I might have gotten if I had insulted his mother or favourite football team. What makes a stranger think he or she can lay a hand on another? Withdrawal symptoms via coffee deficiency, or no.

Or yesterday - as I left the restaurant, piping hot coffee in the right hand, newspaper and purse in the left, a young guy opened the door for me. I actually recall thinking "finally, a considerate Timmy's patron!" Well, the thought didn't last long - he had merely pushed it open, deeked in during the momentum of its closing, allowing for a quick test of my reaction time, juggling my coffee in my full hands and managing to free myself long enough to stop the door from hitting me smack dab in the face. I must have given him a visible enough dirty look, as he briely came out of his stupor long enough to mutter "oh, sorry..."

Timmy's is not a house of ill repute, and us Canadians are known for being polite. So when did this transition begin? Maybe it's just my little downtown Toronto location in the business area of the neighbourhood, or the time of the morning, or the weather, or the alignment of the stars - either way, I hope this isn't a trend that continues.