, , , , , , , , , , , ,

In case anybody who is not aware that I work at a coffee shop, they should also know that I am a bit of a klutz. I like my job. There is always something new going on with the in- and- out traffic of coworkers, angry customers ( happens more than I would like), and my favorite customers.

Yesterday I walk into work, Peets Coffee & Tea, with a very optimistic feeling about my day. Every day we go though gallons of milk and in order for it to be more convenient to access, we have a fridge that holds two 5 gallon bags of whole milk; known as ‘Cows.’ The cows are pretty heavy and are a pain to put into position, if done wrong it’s the biggest pain in the ass to fix. Pours out slow, milk goes everywhere and always makes a mess. I had the unfortunate task of putting it in place yesterday… oh and did I mention the cow was defected? Yup. Defective.

In order for me to lift this cow into the fridge, located above my shoulders, I use momentum from my legs so this task is definitely possible. But because I thinking lifting a five pound dumbell is strenuousness, one could only imagine me lifting this 5 gallon cow above my shoulders; every time I lift it I feel as if a blood vessel just popped in my eye. But, success, I get in into place… until the sealed lid unexpectedly bust off with gushing milk pouring all over me.  Awesome. Naturally I try to catch it. Genius.  Let’s old out our hands Priscilla to catch the milk. Don’t ask. “AAAHHHH OMG OMG OMG!”

I became very entertaining for old man Vince sitting at the coffee bar. “Hey Milk Lady! I don’t think it’s supposed to do that!” He needs new hearing aids which cause him to always yell at me. As you can see, 5 gallons of  milk spilled all over me, I’m the one in pink by the way. My coworker was laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath. Finally, gasping for air, ‘ PRISCILLA MOVE AWAY FROM IT!” Solid advice.

“I say we just let it poor on the ground instead of catch it with pitchers,” she says while laughing at me.

Finally after looking at myself soaked with milk; soiled shoes, apron, and hat, I found myself laughing. It honestly doesn’t surprise me this happened.

Then today my manager comes over to the coffee shop asking if I can help cut fruit in the kitchen.

Me–> ^.^ OKAY! (way too enthusiastic now that I think about it)

I’m in the core kitchen cutting a Honeydew melon with a newly sharpened large knife. If anybody really knows me, they would say it probably wasn’t the best idea. You all know where this story is going. I’m chopping away as if I’m Rachel Ray talking to the quiet lady making ranch dressing next to me about God knows what.

O.O oh ouch. A quick pinch to my thumb. But false alarm, no blood. Finally Daisy spoke, “You’re bleeding!”

“meh just a paper cut. No big deal!” Anyway let’s just say Daisy finally had a lot to say after that. “You need to sanitize that knife, cutting board, get a new knife, wash your hands, throw the melon away, and get a finger condom.”

“In that order? Wait can you repeat that last step?” She walks away and I find I’m now talking to myself  “Should I have written that down? Daisy? Crap

Eventually I get everything cleaned up. Unfortunately my finger wont stop bleeding. This isn’t quite a paper cut, Kristen Stewart. I actually cut myself where it’s natural for this about of blood to come out. I find the first aid kit and there it is. The finger condom box labeled MEDIUM SIZE. That’s important, I’m surprise the large didn’t say MAXIM SIZE. This is legit. My boyfriend asks, “What does it do?”

“It protects your finger…. from germs. What else do condoms do?” (rhetorical question by the way) Let’s just say that I eventually got a little carried away with the idea and took a few extra. Just in case. (That’s what he said– sorry, couldn’t help it).

Like I said, I may have gotten a little carried away and taken it a bit too far. All I know is it turned my average day of work into a very entertaining morning.

Protection is necessary, entertainment is mandatory ^.^