I think that works better than lemon juice for finding cuts. Man, does liquid bandage sting. So much so I usually prefer not to use it.
Its been years since i’ve used any but from memory i don’t recall the liquid bandaid that i used being uncomfortable on any level
i love that stuff. it stings, but in a good way. Also, it smells like cloves.
True! Well, at least I was young and cute back then, way thinner than what I now am, gen’ly hit shows and clubs 5 nights/wk & hung out with oodles of other weird punks.
I don’t miss the crap jobs (as above), ronnie rayguns, illegal ganja, Detroit’s sleazy AF (literally a former pimp from the South) & crooked mayor, poseurs & phonies & trendies (Oh, my!), the boring AF dance music at some clubs, how rough our neighborhood was for a while when we moved here, how dull our neighborhood was before we moved here, the suburban snobs there, adolescence in gen’l, the crummy hair metal bands…
I don’t either, but I do appreciate sometimes how years of kitchen work means I cook fast, and how other years of “serving” mean I can still carry a full tray (and boxes!) with single-handed ease. (I don’t think those are examples of rose-colored nostalgia…)
I regularly remind myself that from the point of view of functional knowledge, working in restaurants were the jobs that taught me the most, and gave me skills I still use daily.
I’d carry 15+ boxes of kleenex piled up in front of me to our shopping cart, and as mom lol’d and put them into the cart two at a time, I’d ask her, “Can ya tell I work at a bookstore?”
I learned to properly clean un-reach-into-able coffeepots at the place where the peppers “burnt” my hands. Some ice and a buncha salt, then thoroughly rinse w/V hot water. A bottle brush w/detergent on it doesn’t work nearly as well. Mom was angry when I removed all of her coffeepot’s stains that way, b/c she didn’t know about that method.
When I was cleaning offices, I learned how to vacuum at almost the speed of light.
That’s for a pack of 10, for those who are especially prone to injuring themselves. Also useful for if you need a lot, like with a chainsaw accident.
I grew up in a Northern Canadian forestry to own, and have described it as “the kind of place where everyone knows someone with a chainsaw scar.”
I have an appendectomy scar that looks like a chainsaw scar. I think the surgeon was drunk.
oops! Dr. Benway, ship’s surgeon, strikes again!
mine’s a gall bladder scar that looks like i was attacked with an ancient jagged dagger.
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