Helga, the evil eurocraut counterperson

Each morning I go through my routine of going to my company’s cafeteria and getting my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. This is an interesting opener to an entry. Peanut butter and jelly. How much simpler does it get than that? The basic necessities of man are within man’s reach, fiber, protein, and carbohydrates. Not only does it provide sustenance but its yummy as well. So what is a man to do when a pompous Gestapo-like eurotrash gets in the way of you and your sandwich?!? I had such an experience not too long ago.

So here I was preparing my PB&J and bringing it up to the counter. Normally I would pay 35 cents for a sandwich when this lady who I will call Helga (I have other names for her which I won’t mention here) declares that the sandwich is 64 cents! I took a double take when she repeated it so matter-of-factly.

I told her: “Excuse me but I normally pay 35 cents for this sandwich.”

To which she replied, “If your sandwich has peanut butter, then the sandwich is 64 cents.” She stared me down waiting for my reaction and eyeing the people behind me as to giving me a hint that she had no time to negotiate something she thought she knew was right and that she had other customers waiting.

I wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of taking my additional 31 cents so I left the sandwich by the register and walked away in ghetto mode muttering to myself, “I’m not paying 64 cents for some stupid ass sandwich! Who the hell do they think they are?”

I decided I would fight it and bring in my own sandwiches and not give in to these corporate cafeteria services that are limited in the meals they provide. The food here truly sucks. This past Christmas season our company had a holiday luncheon where the food comprised of mainly starches (holiday egg rolls, baked potatoes, potato fritters, yams, bread, mashed potatoes, and turkey which was basically heated up turkey cold cuts). The pie, which I think was cherry, had a pinkish hue and when you ate it, did not taste anything like pie should taste like and would not wish on my most hated enemy.

I’ve visited other company’s cafeterias and was floored by the variety of food that is offered and the quality of what is served. It’s amazing the crap they serve and to top it off they have the audacity to ask for more money in return?? The only thing that is safe to eat in that place turns out to be a PB&J sandwich and they want me to pay more for something that is the simplest item on their list of crap??

Eventually I went back. It was hard to give in but when you’re hungry at 9 am you have few options (especially when you work in an industrial park like setting). There she was in an empty cafeteria. She was like a monolith, overseeing her territory. There was no way of getting around just making my sandwich and paying the initial 35 cents I was used to paying. She would look down at the bread and declare, “64 cents please.” Damn you, Helga!

I have to admit, I was a bit sneaky sometimes. Sometimes I would time my visits to the cafeteria knowing that around 9:30 when people are still procrastinating the food court would fill up allowing enough time to toast my bread and at the same time get a scoop of PB&J and placing it in a cup which I would later sneak into my pocket. I have to say it was bit exciting. I guess it's the same feeling a shoplifter would have looking about making sure no one is watching you as you place the container in your front pocket nonchalantly. It was even a greater thrill watching Helga’s confused face as I proudly placed the toast in front of her. She would inspect the bread the same way a customs officer would inspect luggage and would say tersely “35 cents.” It was like being Brad Davis in Midnight Express but only getting away with it!

I kept this charade going for a few weeks till finally my conscious got the best of me. I was compelled to break her and have her announce that as of this day all PB&J would be 35 cents but I knew that wasn’t going to happen so I gave in and starting paying it up front even though when I did, I would mumble “…peanut butter and jelly on toast.”

I had my sandwich this morning but to my surprise she wasn’t in. One of the old guard was in standing in for her. She charged me 35 cents to which I happily paid and wished her a happy morning. It tasted pretty good this morning. I hope Helga gets transferred to some other industrial park food court. Today was a minor victory. There will still be other Helgas around in some shape or form.