dear over the intercom diary,
whenever i order food at work at lunch, on those rare occasions that i do, i never use my name because i don't want people knowing that it was me who ordered food when they call it out over the intercom to come pick it up when it is ready. eating at work is a personal thing and i don't want to share. i use the name 'CHINGA.' which really does no good because now instead of knowing me by my name, everyone now knows me as chinga since i've been doing this for years now. people say, "high chinga." when people give me Christmas cards, they're addressed to (you guessed it) "chinga and family." when i donate to the Christmas tree, i also put "chinga" on my ornament- everyone knows and has fully accepted me as chinga. then last night i ordered a grill cheese- i was starving. mike is the asshat who came back for an unknown reason to stoopervise the working environment that was operating just fine without him. when they called my name over the loud speaker last night- i went to get my cheese toastie. i came back and ate it. things were good. then pretty soon one of the assistant managers came up and told me a little story. she said the girl that called my order out got in trouble from mike for saying "CHINGA" over the intercom. he told her she is no longer allowed to use that name. i kissed the lady on the forehead for telling me the story, she told me the girl IS NOT in trouble and that it took mike almost five years to figure out what CHINGA meant.
