Aren't those people called graduate students? Don't worry. We'll get our turn to sit in our ivory towers, be surrouned by peons that do the grunt work, hold lofty opinions, obtain sexual favors in exchange for good grades, and generally bathe in the glory that is academia.

Anyway, I was blessed yesterday by a very drunk man. He came to the front desk with several boxes of meat he needed put in the freezer and decided to talk to me about his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He opened the conversation by telling me "Don't ever lose your emotions. Don't lose your heart and soul." I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I said "I won't." He was like, "Some people don't even believe in god!" and I was like "Imagine that." He then asked me if I believed in god, to which I replied "There is no empirical evidence either for or agaist the existance of god." He blinked at me a couple of times before telling me that he had been touched by the Holy Spirit. I was like "Oh?" And then he looked kind of sad and was like "Sometimes I'm afraid of losing my heart and soul," so I said to him "But you've been touched so you don't have to worry about that." Then his friend came down and made him go to bed, which was kind of unfortunate because I was having fun. But before he left he said "God bless you, honey." I was like, "You, too." I really wanted to ask him if Jesus knew he had been drinking, but that may have been inappropriate. I suppose my desire to leap onto the counter and shout "You can have death!" to people who come and ask "I have petty complaint X. Can I have a refund?" is also inappropriate.

My coworker explained to me today how to use the deadbolt on the laundry room door to hold it open so you didn't have to use the keys every time you needed to go to the laundry room. He also explained to me how to boil eggs for breakfast. It's a good thing he did because these are both complex tasks that I doubtless could not have accomplished without his detailed explanations. It makes me wonder what I did to give him the impression that I'm such a monumental assclown that I can't figure out how to boil a motherfucking egg or prop open a door. Actually, it's probably just that I don't have a penis and he is a fundamentalist Christian.