Thursday, August 31, 2006
ROZ: HASHSLINGER AND VOODOO QUEEN
Personally, I never had much contact with Roz the controversial, prematurely-ousted Hard News Cafe hashslinger. The one I remember was Albert, mostly because I worked the 7pm-4am shift, but one day I week I was scheduled until 5am. On those days, I'd go to the cafeteria at 4:57, hoping to get a biscuit before heading home to sleep until three. I'd see the doughy goods, nestled in their metal tray; warm and inviting. But when I'd ask to buy one, Albert inevitably barked out, "NO BISCUITS TILL FIVE! That's the rules. That's right. You heard me."
Anyway, yesterday I received the following rant about Roz. Despite the evidence offered up by the previously published "Roz Files" I had no idea she had such an impact on people. Or that someone could carry around such resentment towards the person who served up barely edible CNN cafeteria gruel.
And yes, this fired up, Roz-phobic CNN refugee shall remain anonymous:
"I hated Roz; that's right, downright despised her. And I know that I am not alone when admitting this. Plus, I still blame her for everything. That woman had it out for me!
First of all, she was friendly to everyone BUT me. She'd rip a joke, call people "honey", even ask about people's loved ones, all with that cool Jamaican accent. However, when I approached she became a stone cold bitch. No "honey", no complimenting my choice of cuisine, even her accent was gone. I tried everything; I was desperate to win Roz over. I asked about her beloved country and family, commented on new hair-do's...but nothing. No acknowledgment, not even a smile, just an evil smirk.
Finally, I gave up. I became petrified of her. So much so that I timed my visits to the Hard News to coincide with her breaks. If the timing didn't work, I'd bribe colleagues with free Chick-Fil-A waffle fries to get my lunch for me.
Then one day I was hungover -- not an uncommon occurence -- and was in need of grease. Sure I could have gone to McDonald's, but my VJ food budget for the day only allowed for me to spend $2 for breakfast. Needless to say, Roz had already taken her break and my head hurt too much to bargain with people.
Fast forward to the cash register. My grand total was $2.10. Hallelujah, made my budget. Thank God for spare change found in almost every couch and/or chair spread throughout every floor on both the North and South Towers. I handed Roz
$5.10 and she returned $2.90. Normally, I would not have made a fuss, but the $2.90 screwed up my $3 Wendy's dollar menu lunch. I calmly said,
"Roz, I gave you the 10 cents, you owe me 3 bucks."
"Well," she loudly exclaimed, "You did not!"
I loudly retorted,
"I did so! Why would I lie about 10 cents?"
In a huff, she gave me that buck and mumbled under her breath,
"I know you didn't give me 10 cents, but I'll give it to you anyway cuz I have too."
So I shouted, "Exactly. The customer is always right!" and marched out of the cafeteria with my hard won three dollars.
But that damn Roz got the last laugh.
Awful things began to happen to me afterward; not being promoted to Feeds, a way too long stint of celibacy (not by choice) and a nasty car accident--makes me think that Roz put a voodoo spell on me--
God Bless you Roz!"