The Orange Coat Girl Soliloquy

Hello? Yoohoo? Anybody? Or hellleeeewwwww! If you are a Seinfeld
fan, you will recognize Jerry's belly-button-man hello. If not, this will
just confirm your belief that I am off my rocker.

I seem to be setting the world on fire lately. Looks like I have the same
effect on y'all as I have on my students. SNORE! OK, so I know my
regular commenters have been busy this week. Rebecca has gone on
a trip, and is not rubbing butter on her stomach and soaking it up with
waffles. Redneck Diva appears to have her hands full of young'uns, and
extricating her mom's hand from a knothole in her sister's closet shelf.
Deadpanann has learned why teachers need the summer off (and if
you're not a teacher, let me tell you--it's because we put in more hours
during the school year than someone working a 40-hour-week all year
long). Rachy must be maxing out on coffee and cigarettes, or busy
snorting red wine out of her nose. That's OK, guys. I know I have not
been the best comment buddy since school started up again.

You can't get rid of me that easily. I know people are still reading,
because a little stat-counter told me so. And they're not all those 5-
seconds-or-less people, either. So I will keep spreading my hillbilly
redneckiness for your blogging pleasure.

My students have been giving me good stuff this week. Don't get me
wrong. I really like my students, as much as they are going to cause
me to require a last-nerve transplant. I do not want to appear to be
making fun of them. I am just trying to point out the absurdities in
their outlooks on life.

Today Orange Coat Girl (it's an endearing little name we gave her
at the teachers' lunch table a couple of years ago) told me she had
a dilemma. No, not really, because she wouldn't know a dilemma
if it bit her on the butt. But she would say "Owww! Something bit
me on the butt!" Anyhoo, OCG said, "Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, my
friend says that at Pizza Hut, they cheat you out of hours and don't
pay you because they don't have a time clock. They just write it
down on a card."

OK, so I had to extract a few teeth to find out what this had to
do with OCG. She went on. "I am thinking about applying there,
because they are going to build a new store, and you have to be
18 to work there, because they are going to serve beer." Time out.
I couldn't squeeze it into her soliloquy, but Pizza Hut serves beer
now, and you have to be 21 to carry it to the table. I don't drink
it, mind you, but I know all about it. I have a friend who drinks it,
you see.

So then OCG goes on to say that by the time that new Pizza Hut
is built, she will be 18, and what if they cheat her on her paycheck?
Who should she complain to? So I know the kid wants an answer,
and I tell her to call down to Job Service, which is technically the
Missouri Division of Employment Security, more commonly called
the Unemployment Office, where I worked for 5 years, and they
should have a phone number she can call. Someone like maybe the
Department of Labor. I can't remember for sure, because I was
too busy with my job of denying people's unemployment benefits.

What I don't have time to point out, because the bell rang, is that
she has some more pressing priorities first, before these what ifs:

1. Get your credits so you can graduate
2. See if that new Pizza Hut gets built
3. Apply for a job
4. Get hired
5. Work the hours you are scheduled
6. See IF they cheat you on your paycheck
7. Ask to discuss it with the supervisor or manager
8. Complain to the Department of Labor

Kids! Can't live with 'em...but you can get some good blog material
from 'em.