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I love chatting on Facebook, especially with people I don't get to see that often. It's the next best thing to talking on the phone, which is the next best thing to talking face to face, which is the next best thing to being friends that hang out. It's a great way to get in touch with long lost friends, exchange quick information, and carry flirtatious conversations with people of the opposite gender, typing things you'd be WAY too uncomfortable to say to their face.
Sometimes I wonder how awesome it would be if our regular everyday conversations carried on like a Facebook chat. You could be talking to two people at the same time about two entirely different subjects, just taking turns commenting or asking questions, and when a third person came along, you could just add him in.
You could ask him a question, and he'd ask you a question before realizing that you had just done the same thing, then quickly answer your question right before you answer his. Then you both would realize how awkward the mix-up was and take turns chuckling, "Haha." "Lol." And if someone told a really funny joke, you could actually roll on the floor laughing, and no one would think anything of it.
If you were at a party, and someone you didn't like showed up and said, "Hey, broseph, how's it hangin'?" you could just leave the room, and he'd assume you weren't available for conversation. Also, if you asked someone a question, he could just walk to the other side of the room, grab a drink, come back, and say, "Oh, sorry, I was off getting some punch." Also, flirting would be incredible. I wish girls winked as much in real life as they do on Facebook. The wink has become a generic "Well, hey there," facial expression in electronic communication. There was once a time when a wink meant a WINK, as in, "Between you and me, I think you're sweet stuff." But those days are long gone. Same with the tongue sticking out. I can't imagine any actual, normal conversation I'd have where I'd stick my tongue out to emphasize jealousy or sarcasm, but it's become a pretty casual expression. But alas, all these delightful quirks are limited to the world of Facebook and texting. But not Twitter. That's a whole 'nother league of dysfunctional social interaction.
Usually when you work somewhere like, say, a restaurant, you eventually become so tight with your manager that you get start getting free stuff. Food, pens, whatever it is, at some point you're able to make yourself lunches and get family and friends in for free.
However, as I learned today, it is usually very difficult to tell when exactly that moment comes. I work at the Pizza Factory in Provo, a generally pleasant but sometimes awkward restaurant. Some of my coworkers are able to make salads, pastas, or pizzas whenever they're hungry, while other employees, like me, are allowed 50% off. For those of you who aren't aware of how expensive Pizza Factory food is, even 50% is a kick in the shorts.
So today, I was watching one of my coworkers, an assistant manager, make himself a free pasta dinner when I thought, "What the heck; I've been here about two months, why not see if I can get a freebie?" So I paced back and forth, contemplating how I could bring it up without sounding like a creepy freeloader that steals from work.
Honestly, I think the only other things that could possibly compare in awkward uneasiness are: a.) asking a guy to sell you drugs without knowing for sure if he's "hip to the scene," or b.) a gay man coming on to another man whose orientation hasn't been established yet. It's a scary thing, revealing a suspicious request to someone whose standards and rules you are unfamiliar with.
So, having finally summoned the courage to ask, I walked up to him and said, "Hey, Dustin, I've got a question for you, and keep in mind, there are NO wrong answers... But what would the chances be of me making myself a small pasta tonight?"
He gave me a blank stare and said, "Well, you can make anything you want, if you pay 50%... I don't know what to tell you, man. That's all I can do for you..."
I quickly nodded and tried to cover up my request. "Yeah, man, that's totally fine," I sputtered, staring off into the distance. "I was actually just wondering if I was allowed to make it now, or if I had to wait till we close."
"Make it whenever you want, just make sure that we're not busy and that you pay for it."
I hung my head in shame and agreed as he walked away to finish his free pasta.
How do you know when you can start getting food from your job for free? No one knows. You just somehow get to a point, whether it's after three weeks or an entire year, when you're no longer required to pay. This is a subject as old, familiar, and mysterious as the purpose of life. It becomes even more controversial once you learn how much it costs to make the food that costs $20 a serving. The ingredients are surprisingly cheap.
In conclusion, asking the assistant manager for a freebie ended up being extremely awkward. Maybe I should have just asked him for some heroin or told him he had cute pants, and spared myself the discomfort.
