C Note(s)

I've barely started the 6-week supervisor training program for the warehouse so I'm feeling very red, white and blue. That is, red vest, white badge, and blue collar work. Every time I don the Costco red vest an impish smile creeps across my face. I have no idea what the day will hold for me but I know it won't be the same as the last time, and tomorrow will be just as different. "You look good in red, Los" ~ a compliment I've received more than once My friends, family, and co-workers ask my progress so far, and if I'm still enjoying it which I answer with a smile, and utter the words so far, so good. The next asked question is what are my days like. Well, picture this. Willie E. Coyote has strapped you to a ginormous ACME red rocket. Once you clock in for the shift, he lights the fuse. You're launched into a 8.5 hour day of zigs, and zags, twists and turns as it ends with a *bOoM* as you explode in the sky. My uniform, complete with coffee a

I was reminded about this story when the warehouse started selling a popular snack attack choice: Pirate's Booty . And when I say popular, I mean to say it's addictive! Seriously, when I'm cashiering I'll noticed about every 3rd order has at least one bag, if not multiple bags. Pirate's Booty It's gluten-free so it's yet another reason for it's rise in popularity for parents to purchase for kids. And the kids, you ask? They love it! Can't enough of it. Myself? MEH. I'm indifferent; I can take it or leave it. Speaking of kids, my cousin in the Portland area has a beautiful daughter, that is just like her. Imagine that? She (the cousin) has mischievous streak a country mile wide, whom she got from her dad (my uncle) WCP and I were visiting said cousin years ago, and here's how it went down. Picture this. A fully loaded SUV, my cousin is driving, I'm shotgun / co-pilot, WCP is in the back with my cousin's daughter in a car seat

As I was strolling the streets of Seattle last week, I was mulling over my life so far on my life path. I was gravely disappointed as I compared it to my friends and family accomplishments of marriage, children and families. Then after thinking more on it, I've concluded I've inadvertently chose a hero's life. Can't say I'm surprised, though. What surprised me was the amount of time it's taken to acknowledge it. If I was a betting man, I would wager that I started on this life path early in my childhood. My mother once told me that I should help people as much as I can, with all my available resources, so long as it isn't detrimental to me and lawful. Basically be the hero that I continue to read in my comic books, and see in the movies I watch. What's Next? It's no secret I love heroes. They're the good guys! And who doesn't like a hero, or at the very least, a good guy. Ultimately, they are role models that are relatable. You ide

I was a Costco Member long before I was a Costco Employee. And definitely longer than working in the warehouse. One constant that's been there longer than my tenure is the "sample staff" (Club Distribution Services) Please don't interpret the following as throwing shade but rather a recognition of a necessary evil. Every day the warehouse opens they set up in various sections of the store to issue samples of various products, but most of the time it's food. It's a proven, battle-tested method, too. An unknown, perhaps underperforming product becomes the darling of sales for the day. Don't believe me? (Read this fascinating blog entry I read prior to posting: The Psychology Behind Costco's Free Samples ) Like sirens, they easily lure members, and their children, over to their stainless steel island with a foody call . The crowd congregates around the hair net wearing person anxiously awaiting to be fed. On the weekends, this is problematic due

I was reminded of this story when a co-worker mentioned her birthday falls on St. Patrick's Day this year. It was 2012 St. Patrick's Day. The Brew Crew decided to post in Renton instead of Seattle for celebrating. WCP and I were late because of a Sounders match conflicted with the start time. Thankfully, we were dressed in green. #RaveGreen to be exact. As you can imagine, the crowd there and our crew were housed by the time we arrived. If memory serves, the seating situation was S.R.O. (standing room only) We did that for hours. Invariably, the crowd dispersed, and our crew eventually bounced. To me, that meant empty tables and chairs. So I broke away from my sister (WCP) and my bro (TJ) in search of these. Giant's Causeway (aka A Terrible Beauty) has two floors. I walked upstairs to the private rooms. Sure enough, I spied many empty tables and booths. I announced as I asked a large table occupied by the remaining group that used the space, "Excuse me, but are

Look. I get it. I have a Filipino accent that's married with a varied vernacular which is a mixed of English, Urban Dictionary, IMDb, and literature quotes. I consider myself an applied communications expert. I change my word usage based on the audience I'm speaking with. This is a minute to minute change since I talk that much. It allows me to seamlessly transition from one person to another person because everyone is unique, right? Yesterday while cashiering I made a request of more one dollar bills. At the time it was busy so I knew that pleasantries would have to wait. I asked for a supervisor to approach my register. Upon approach I stated my business. "I need 1's, please." He stared at me for a brief second. I repeated, "1's, please, so I can make it rain ." (I've link the UD definition for your reference) Moments later, a different supervisor appeared, with the words. "Ok, Carlos. I'll cashier while you use the restroom.&q

Thank you Urban Dictionary for providing the perfect word for me to use. Frenemy is an enemy disguised as a friend. We all have one, if not more, and I'm no exception. The frenemy of mine is Icy Hot Cream. That's right, you read that right. On my 29th birthday, I chucked a spaz because once I compared myself to others in the same and even older age group, I realized I wasn't psychically fit at all. As I was barreling into my 30's, I was overweighted, and not active. So I found a personal trainer (PT), and decided to do the work necessary. Unfortunately, the transition was brutal. My PT, Big Kenny, recommended Icy Hot for my achy muscles. They were so sore I could barely move without grunting but I wasn't complaining. I applied so much on a daily basis the office joked it was my new cologne. They knew when I worked out with my PT because the smell was so pungent that as I passed the plastic office plants they would wilt. One of the days of this routine wa

Hey Mom, The other day I was wondering if you've skied up, and left guardianship of me to someone or something else. I've seen a sign from you since last year, even though I've been asking and prayer for assistance down here. I chalked it up to your Yoda-esque, you'll-get-help-when-you-really-need it teachings. You know, I've never understood it, or liked it. On Sunday, I was musing over my current situation of trying to cope, trying to buy a house, and left wondering if I barreling down the right life path. There I was driving along Maltby Rd (Hwy 527), tunes cranked up, as I zipped along the windy road. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a bald eagle perched in a tree about 40 feet up and 500 feet away. It's eyes landed on mine, then swooped down to road level, and in the right hand lane - my lane. So majestic. So ginormous! The wingspan was ridiculous. There it was guiding me down the road I've been down hundreds of times. For a moment,