When consciousness is too hard

Are smelling salts still a thing? Because I think it's time for me to invest.

Tonight, I passed out for the...well, at least the fourth time. Is it bad that I can't remember how many times I've passed out? It happens kind of a lot. I thought I was over it, but apparently not.

At least I've passed out (fainted? swooned? had a fit of the vapors?) in a variety of interesting places. Tonight, we can add a boxing gym to a list that already includes 8th grade shop class, a London theater, and the Gap. To be more specific, two hours in to my first shift as a clothes bitch at the Gap.

There are lots of reasons why I pass out. The primary one is my dumbass thyroid which caused a lot of hell for a couple of years, though the twenty pound weight loss was nice (and scary). Tonight was a combo of that, and unfortunately, TMI ALERT! the first day of being on my period.

My fucking uterus was the problem at the Gap too. I had a couple of cramps, next thing I knew everything was fuzzy, and it looked like there was an abortion in my pants.

I'm sorry, that grossed even me out a little bit. Blame the fainting fit from earlier.

But you know, I've actually gotten pretty good at passing out. I mean, I warn people. At the London theater, I was with a girl I barely knew but when I felt my vision getting blurry I said, "I'm sorry Laurel, but I'm going to pass out now." I'm super polite. So tonight, I knew it was coming, got off the treadmill and had the trainer walk me to a seat where I could recover. I don't think I completely passed out (mainly because I don't remember waking up) but it was touch and go for a while. The most awkward part came after I had recovered a little bit. I had a water bottle in one hand, the other was holding an ice pack to my neck. And a one-armed man wanted to shake hands. It just wasn't happening.

But they were all super nice, and I assured them I would come back for a proper workout. But I won't. If there's anything I've learned from passing out, it's never return to the scene of the crime.

In which I rant, Part 2

So, fun fact. Or at least a vaguely interesting fact. I'm kind of an etiquette geek. I own a first edition of Emily Post's "Etiquette" and I have a whole separate "Advice" folder in my Google Reader. Local columnist Robin Abrahams aka Miss Conduct is by far my fave, while Dear Prudence is often borderline offensive but responds to such ridiculous situations that I can't help but read it. And Dan Savage is, of course, the shit. Love him.

Now, this is not to say that I'm a classy gal who automatically knows the right thing to say in every situation, or who can set a table for twenty in ten minutes. I'm definitely a little socially awkward, and if I had twenty people over, trust me, there'd be nothing besides a bag of chips and a cooler of beer. I just dig the advice columnists.

However, I DO think that people are owed some basic courtesy, and no group of people deserve more courtesy than people who work in customer service, the food industry, or any other field serving the public. They - oh, who are we kidding, this is totes personal - WE are the ones who serve your food, make your coffee the way you like it, don't raise our voices when you're swearing at us, and generally bust OUR asses to make YOUR life a little easier. I don't care that you drive a Lexus or make 200k a year, you quite obviously need my help. If you didn't, you wouldn't be calling my customer support line. And I CAN help you. I actually WANT to. I like my company, and I will gladly explain all of your policies and rules all the livelong day if that's what you want.

But at the end of the call, when I say "Thanks for calling, have a great day!" do you know what your response should be? "Thank you." Or, if you're feeling generous, "Thanks, you too." You should not say "Oh, I will," "Yeah, right," "No thanks to you," any type of grunting noise, or worst of all "Whatever." Really Mr Surgeon? That's your comeback? "Whatever"? Well, yeah, I went to middle school too, and let me tell you, you are a loser loser DOUBLE loser, as if, whatever, get the picture, duh. (Complete with hand motions!)

I don't know why this galls me so much. People are seriously horrible to me sometimes, but being told to go fuck myself really doesn't piss me off as much as telling someone something nice and then having them scoff. It's like when I tell someone I like their dress and they say "Oh, I think it makes me look fat." I mean, for fuck's sake, just accept a compliment you know?

And yes, people who actually work in the industry should be nice and polite also. I'm talking to you, bitch at Panera. Telling your customer "Don't look at me like that, grumpy!" is not endearing, it's annoying and will not get you a tip.