Being a baggage operator at an airport is the only job you can be just "ok" at and it's perfectly fine. People get upset when they don't get their bags, but they really don't and can't do anything about it. "Your bags aren't here, we are sorry for your inconvenience." And people just have to be ok with that. I mean what really can you do? Where did the bag go? And you know that every person you talk to has no clue who actually moved your bag from point A to B. So you really are fucked. You can't go to a bank and ask for your money in your account and they say; "We don't know where it is, but we'll get it back to you when we find it."

Your Face Isn't Always On Your Head

I was taking a number two at work the other day (if you work in an office building you already know that you must avoid taking to the stalls in-between 1:00 and 3:30, that's the death zone) So I was in the death zone the other day, couldn't help it. As I'm going, I hear the most horrifying sounds coming from the stall directly next to me. I mean sounds that would make wild animals cringe. Take the most wrong fart jokes from television and film and multiply that by say, 34. Now if you're the person doing this crime to a toilet, you can take solace that as long as you stay in the stall until everyone is out of the bathroom, you can make a clean get-a-way and no one knows a thing. But not when at a place of business that makes you wear an ID badge. When I heard the sounds of a 1,000 screams coming from just beyond a thin piece of material, I did what any normal person would do. I looked down. Right there sitting nicely on top of his shoe was his name Scott Johnson and his smiling 40-something face. Do you see the problem here? Now every time I see Scott Johnson in the building I have a sound to go with that face. And not only a sound, but a mental image that has kept me up some nights. I can never shake this man's hand, or look him in the eye. No good professional relationship can ever come of us now, with a friendship far out of the question. So a tip for all you kids out there; when taking a crap in the corporate world, put that little badge in your pocket before you drop trow.