Dumpers

I was tooling around Costco the other day looking at all the mega-size bottles for sale and I had an epiphany. First I thought "who can use this much Honey?" when I saw a 3 pack of litre bottles shrink-wrapped together. Then it hit me. People take these big bottles and dump them into smaller bottles at home, just like we do with medications at the pharmacy. It was at this point that I started talking to myself. Hey, it happens. 

Myself: <laughing>

CP: What's so funny? 

Myself: Remember the post you did last week about the 3D printer? 

CP: Yeah. What about it? 

Myself: Remember how the one guy asked if he could just have the "ones you dump from the bigger bottles into the smaller ones"? 

CP: Of course. Where you going with this? 

Myself: I have an analogy for you. Since I know you love little literary devices. 

CP: Intrigued.  

Myself: You're always looking for a comeback or some way to put someone in his place for belittling you and your job. 

CP: Okay. 

Myself: This time it's waitresses. 

CP: Go on. 

Myself: Saying that all we do is pour pills from big bottles into little vials is like saying that all a waitress does is pour ketchup and salt & pepper from big bottles in the back into small bottles on your table. 

CP: No one's going to catch the similarity. 

Myself: Sure they will. They greet you when you sit at their table. They take an order from you. They hand the order off to be prepared and deliver it to your table. Afterward, they send you to the cash register where you are asked if everything with your meal was to your satisfaction. The only part you saw was when she refilled your drinks from the big pitcher, or your condiment containers from the big bottles, and when she took your order, then delivered it, along with the bill. You didn't see all the other work she did in the kitchen. You didn't see her waiting other tables in the other room or outside. You didn't see her ringing register while the hostess was on break. You didn't see her taking phone orders for curbside pickup. 

CP: So now you're saying we're just glorified waitresses? 

Myself: No. I'm saying we are kindred spirits. We are compadres. We are forced to smile at people while they denigrate us and our work to our faces while we are trying to do our job FOR them. 

CP: Got it. You're a strange little person. 

Myself: I know. 

CP: Deep Thoughts. 

Myself: Know what's phunny? 

CP: You changing all your "F's" to "PH's" in everything you write? 

Myself: Haha. No. This post was supposed to be one line, short enough for a twitter post. 

CP: Okay. Which line? 

Myself: I'd intended it to only be about where I said "saying pharmacists only put pills from big bottles into smaller ones is like telling a waitress her only job is filling ketchup, S&P, and drinks on your table from bigger vessels in the back". 

CP: Phunny. 

Myself. Don't you start...