The Sea(/Land) Adventures of Captain Quack

We begin with Captain Quack's first official employee performance evaluation. Obviously quite different than the ones she received at SIAM, with the one exception being that she gets points for being "smart," which kind of makes her a little sad.

CAPT. SPARROW (CELIA)

Sun 5/20/07 11am

OVERALL:

Capt. Sparrow is charming and knowledgeable. She delivers her information and jokes concisely and with a good attitude. She’s smart with a dry sense of humor and it works. It definitely time, however, to take her tour to the next level with more levity, wackiness and fun. Her tour is sorely lacking fun music cues, sound effects and props. Adding these elements to her tour immediately is well within her abilities. She must do so to keep the tour from getting too dry. Adding these elements right away would put her in the running for Rookie of the Year. She has the talent.

GOOD STUFF:

Capt. Sparrow knows her facts and makes them interesting. When she uses music cues, she uses them well. She delivers jokes well and received several out-loud laughs. She has a natural smile in her voice and a bright attitude which “sells” the city and its attractions. On the way back to base she had the entire Duck singing and dancing to YMCA.

STUFF TO WORK ON:

There is a dynamic and entertaining captain living within Capt. Sparrow dying to get out, but her slight shyness gets in the way. When she decides to “flip the switch,” it‘ll be fun for everyone…including her. She must take full command of her tour. Energy up, volume up, props, hats, music, etc. Her energy lagged on the water portion. She was much too far away from the Sleepless house. Below is an action plan that would go a long way towards fixing all issues immediately and easily.

ACTION PLAN:

Before next tour--

1) Buy three wacky hats.

2) Write down three additional places for passenger interaction. E.g. clapping, singing, dancing, etc.

On NEXT tour--

--Add above two elements

--kick energy up 2 notches

--use mic for open speech

--Increase speaker volume 2 notches

--Become a cheerleader for the tour by encouraging quacking, waving, clapping…especially while pulling out of driveway and returning.

OK, so this is definitely a better review than I was expecting considering he rode on my first tour the morning after hitting the car and I was freaking out about potentially hitting another car unwittingly. But, like Kenli* said, hitting cars with these things does happen all the time so it really isn't that big of a deal. Except that it's completely nerve-wracking to realize that you took a chunk out of someone's fender and didn't even notice.

So I did actually buy two funny hats (and, at Pam's suggestion, used my bike helmet as well, bringing up the wacky hat number to the required three). Interestingly enough, I purchased these hats at the same party store where only a few months ago (or maybe ten), I purchased a gigantic Uncle Sam hat for my first ever PIRG voter registration event back when we were training in Seattle (wish I still had that one; it was the definition of wacky hat). This party store just happens to be just up the road from my other job, oddly enough. Now, the wacky hats don't seem to be increasing my tips at all like promised, but that's ok since I spent a grand total of $5 on a child-size plastic viking helmet and a straw cowboy hat. Such a deal.

But back to my third evaluated tour (basically one evaluation per weekend so far). This was probably my worst tour ever. My energy was at an all-time low since a week of being generally hungover and sleep deprived (oops) while working 10-12 hour days is not the way to prepare you for a day of tour guiding, especially when you have your first 10 o'clock tour of the season. So I show up and have about 2 minutes before my first tour because Louis (the mechanic) wanted to put air in the tires before I left the duck nest. So I had figured that Dean(o) (the reviewer, and also apparently a semi-famous comedian and commercial actor who apparently would be nationally famous by now, according to my boss and his best friend, if weren't for the drug troubles he got himself into a few years ago. I got to hear all this the other day while getting a ride back to the duck nest in my boss's BMW after the previously mentioned hitting the car with the duck incident) would probably be on my first tour since that's just my luck, and of course he was. So it got off to an okay start, but really all I wanted to do was take a nap, and so naturally I felt like I was putting everyone to sleep, which is not a good feeling. (Although no one on the tour actually feel asleep. That didn't happen until my third tour when one girl did literally take a nap for the last 45 minutes).

I don't really remember how the middle of the tour was, but my mic started cutting in and out, so basically out of my 3 jokes that actually consistently get laughs, the mic shut off in the middle of two of them and I forgot to tell the third one. But I do clearly remember the end of the tour when I got lost yet again. We were already behind schedule since we're now taking a new route back over the Fremont Bridge, and not only does this bridge supposedly hold the world record for most frequently opened drawbridge (it averages 35 times per day), but even when it's actually down you have to wait at what has to be the world's longest stoplight. This was the first time I had done this route since it had been undergoing construction for the past year so we haven't been able to use it until this weekend. I remember Ryan (the manager), when describing the new route, telling me to just take a right at Buca di Beppo, so I did that. Now unfortunately there is a hard right and a soft right at the corner of Buca di Beppo and Broad St. and of course I took the wrong one, and obviously there was no easy way out once I realized my mistake. I could see the Space Needle, and we were so close, but it wouldn't let me take the right turn so we had to do a ten-minute loop around the crappy semi-downtown area (although it was at least somewhat more scenic than the crappy semi-downtown area just south of the city since we did get to swing by Lake Union again for a final look). Ha. At this point I again was running out of cheesy 70's music and I was so stressed about trying to find a way out of the situation, afraid we'd actually never get back to the parking lot, which we finally did about 3 minutes before my next tour.

Now the day did get better after that when I had the chance to drink my Trader Joe's orange energy drink and power shake (21 grams of protein! and for a mere 59 cents more you could even get 35 grams). In fact, the highlight of my week was on the next tour when I got my first laugh at one of my jokes. Now since I've been doing this for about four weekends now, I've probably told this joke at least 23 times before and not once has it gotten as much as a chuckle of recognition. Now according to the principles of show business (which I am becoming more familiar with than I'd like), I should have cut this joke long ago. But despite the fact that it's not funny, I like it and I knew one day someone would laugh at it, or at least maybe someone would laugh at something their friend in the seat next to them said at about the same time that I delivered the joke, which is probably what happened today.

So sometimes I'll see kayakers out on the lake and point them out. "Now over on the right (this is my favorite tour guide phrase)," I say, "you'll see some kayakers. There are a lot of kayakers out here on Lake Union and they're a lot of fun, but they're only worth one point." Now this joke is pretty bad itself, but generally there'll be a few people on the Duck that get it. So I should just quit while I'm (sort of) ahead, but of course I don't so I usually follow it up with: "Now there are usually a lot of rowing shells out here as well, and they're even better because they're worth 8.5 points. Yeah, that's right, you only get a 1/2 point for the coxswain."

Anyway, I'll post this next review when I get it. Although it probably won't be too harsh because Deano is actually a very nice guy who keeps telling me to stop being so hard on myself and to not beat myself up. He said if that was my worst tour, then I'm doing fine. Although I keep worrying that he's going to be disappointed when he realizes that maybe I actually don't have that "inner wackiness" that he is expecting to see when I get over my "slight shyness." Ha. I am definitely weird, maybe even "quirky," and I can definitely be a jackass (especially when I'm drunk), but as for "wacky" that's one adjective I've never found applied to me. I don't like funny hats. I don't even like dressing up on Halloween. I mean, I actually drive a Duck and on top of that, I dance to the YMCA while doing so. What more do they want? Already my self-respect level goes down in inverse proportion to the increase of my tour guide pep level, and if it weren't for the ironic detachment that I cling to, I would have nothing left.


*Kenli, I want to thank you for your recent comments, and I hope that you didn't actually think I was disappointed in your lack of commentary, since I am not that much of an asshole and am honored that you actually check the blog at all since I do realize that you are currently living in rural Kenya.

What Fruit Are You?*

I figure I'm qualified to teach study skills; not only do I know how to study, but I also used to date a professional study skills instructor. Furthermore, study skills as a concept is complete bullshit.

Anyway, I'm teaching a study skills class, and not only do we have to go over how to manage a long-term project and keep a planner (um, writing down your assignments legibly is a good first step for both), the curriculum also covers turning Evan into a "highly effective teen." We do this by going through The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Teens. This is hilarious.

First off, it's a self-help book. Second off, it's one of those cheesy overly self-referential "yo, teens, I speak your language and I know you're superskeptical of me cause I'm an adult but I used to be a teen just like you who hated to read blah blah blah" self-help books. Now I used to just make Evan read the chapters so we could have brief discussions and then check off the various habits, but that was boring because I just sat there and watched him read, or really pretend to read. And I could sense that 7 Habits was full of gems, so I decided it would be better if I read it aloud, like storytime. The only problem is I can't keep a straight face reading about 86% of the text. But the best was the other day.

We had just done a little exercise for Habit #6 ("Synergize") about different personalities. (For some reason, I love taking multiple choice tests that tell me what type of person I am.) Anyway, each of the four personality types was labeled with a fruit (doesn't that seem more appropriate for 7 Habits of Highly Effective Toddlers?) Evan was an orange while I was just slightly more grape than melon. As a grape, apparently I find it difficult to give exact answers. Evan agreed that assessment was right on. (He also has me for English and Spanish class.) Anyway, I would like to share the paragraph that followed this exercise in its entirety since I don't think paraphrasing will do it justice.

So it's talking about how everyone is different (humanity is a veritable fruit salad) and then:

That's why you shouldn't feel so bad if a member of the opposite sex (whom you are just dying to go out with) doesn't go for you. You may be the most luscious and mouth-watering grape around, but he or she may be looking for a banana. And no matter how much you want a change of fruit, you're a grape and they want a banana.

WHAT?


*I am obviously the most luscious and mouth watering grape around.

Barbeque

I had a BBQ, and despite an early carbon monoxide threat, it was a success. There were probably 20 people total, which is pretty good considering that I don't really know anyone here in Seattle. So that was fun and we made s'mores and drank some beers. And I have an 18 pound bag of charcoal, so there will be more barbeques. Meaning y'all should come visit.

And thanks Shaw for commenting =)

We Value Your Feedback

OK, so I like comments. They're like crack but not able to be detected by the employer drug testing program that I happen to be enrolled in. And I will basically do anything for a comment. (I would say I'm a comment-whore, but I hate expressions like that, kind of like how I hate when people say "shit-ton.") For example, in my second-to-last post, I shamelessly threw in a concluding sentence that had absolutely nothing to do with the rest of what I had written (like I said, my new writing style is "high school freshman"), but it was a sentence that I thought was somewhat shocking, at least compared to the boring crap I usually write about. I thought for sure that by throwing in that "I hit a car with the duck" someone would say something, like maybe an OMG or a "what?" or a "For serious?"

Feels just like I'm walking on broken glass.

So Much To Write About

When it rains, it pours. Actually, it usually doesn't pour here in Seattle, just a constant drizzle. Except when I have out-of-town visitors. Because of course Pam's first 24 hours in Seattle should include the heaviest downpour I've seen since I got here since I told her it never rains in Seattle in the summer to convince her she should come here. And I don't think I would have ultimately been successful in convincing Caroline and Peggy to stay an extra day in Seattle even if it had been beautiful and sunny and 70° F (21.1° C) like it had been for the previous two weeks. But we did make the most of our 12 hours together by not wasting really any of it on sleeping but instead lots of sushi, beer, a woman dancing with a sword (the w may or may not be silent) on her head, another beer(s) and a shot that may have been red or cranberry flavored, but probably not, followed by Caroline's karaoke rendition of some song that we made her do and she agreed to on the condition that Peggy and I would "harmonize" and I don't remember what song she chose but I remember as being vaguely 80's and I was only vaguely familiar with it, but I think we made up for the lack of harmony it with our spectacular dancing. So, in conclusion, it was amazing. And when it rains, it pours.

Another example of this cliche being true is my jobs. (I am now going to start writing in the style of a high school freshman. I can't decide whether that is better or worse than a non-native English speaking applied math professor--you be the judge.) After complaining about not having a job forever I am now overemployed. But not overpaid, fortunately :-P (omg, I now think in emoticons, among other things, like AIM abbreviations, apparently.) And the best part about my jobs is, as Alisa realized the other day, both of them require me to talk all the time (and maintain an unreasonable level of peppiness) while her job is not talking at all, except for occasionally repeating words in a questioning tone. We need to change this.

Oh, and I hit a car with the duck the other day.

I'm a Winner (But You Knew That)

Getting hopelessly lost is something I do quite often. Although usually I don't have a duckload of people along for the ride.

Anyway, so, there was a Mariners game tonight. I knew this. I had been driving past the stadium all day and had seen everyone setting up. I had made jokes about how I hoped they beat the Yankees again tonight. But I'm on automatic pilot after three tours already that day. As soon as I take the turn and see the ocean of people, I knew I had made a terrible mistake. It's like driving a duck down Yawkey Way during a Sox game.

So I finally get through the mob and it would have been salvageable, except I try to circle around to what I think will lead me to Pioneer Square. Only it shoots me right back into the mess again. At this point, I have been silent for what feels like hours-- no witty banter, no music, no nothing. I'm freaking out. I want to cry. I turn on "Born to Be Wild." "Get your motor running, head out on the highway . . ." We are stopped dead in traffic. So at this point we're like forty five minutes into the tour. I'm going to have to bypass the rest of downtown and just get on Highway 99 to shoot up to Lake Union so we can go in the fucking water. Only I drive parallel to 99 for a couple miles and there is no on-ramp At this point we are so far from downtown we are bouncing over dilapidated railroad tracks, past abandoned warehouses in the industrial area south of downtown. By the time I get onto the highway, I have almost run out of bad music. I play "Love Shack." I play "Tequila." I want to jump out the window. I play "Smokey and the Bandit." I don't even know what Smokey and the Bandit is.

We eventually make it back to the parking lot. I actually made more significantly more in tips than I had on my previous three tours. So sad on so many levels.

*I apologize for the flagrant lack of consistency with tense here. I don't feel like editing. 'Cause basically this is the online equivalent of me going "arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh."

Low/highlights (5.9.07)

• Waking up
  
• Creeping up the final (not-even-that-steep-)hill of my commute (in granny gear) this morning when one of my students passes me on his single speed
• A personal phone call from Mr. Ride the Ducks himself . . . telling me I was off to a good start and even had the potential to be a candidate for Rookie of the Year. I have to check my copy of the 2 page handout we got at the staff meeting last Thursday, but I think that might actually be an award category in the new supercomplex bonus system they set up to encourage captains to actually show up to work on time. More on that later.
  
• Realizing that with each passing day I am coming closer and closer to the limit of my remedial Spanish comfort zone and soon will have to pretend that I remember the preterite tense, not to mention the subjunctive . . .
  
• Getting my first package in the mail at my new house. It contained a bag of chocolate chips, a couple spatulas, a pair of fuzzy dice (actually requested, although it is something my mom would throw in a package randomly) and a package-within-a-package of mix CDs (from Karen sent via Massachusetts--thank god for the constancy of the parental PO Box)
• Diet Coke with Lime
• Seattle weather. 70 and sunny. Seriously.
  
• Getting a text message this afternoon from my housemate saying the internet had been set up

So yes, after 3 months of withdrawal, I am back with regular internet access. And not only that, but I can access it from anywhere (in my 10' x 20' room)-- no need to crouch at the Window of Knowledge. Of course, now that I am working 60 hours a week (12 hours of teaching tomorrow and a weekend chock full o' duck tours), I can't promise that I will post as much as I should. But it's got to be better than the last few weeks.