Do you want me to bring my meat thermometer?

[MystyGlyttyr]

Long time no postie.

Anyways, I'm back at the paper writing obituaries and taking phone calls, but in general things are as calm as they ever are at a newspaper office, aside from the usual mediocre stupidity. This lady today though, I just. What the hell.

Now, our paper has a food section that runs on Wednesdays. There's a correspondent who writes a column and the rest of it is stuff taken off the AP or Reuters or whatever general press thing about recipes and eating healthy and what's good for your colon or whatever the thing is lately. The correspondent doesn't work in our office, and this is just something we do once a week, so we don't technically have a "food section." However, we do have me, who's completed culinary school training with flying colors (straight A's and the highest score on my class's ServSafe certification ). While I'm not technically a chef by dint of not having worked an official job as one...let's be honest, semantics or not, I'm a chef.

So I take this phone call from this woman who sounds like she's leaning on the edge of senile, but aside from asking goofy questions, doesn't seem too bad.

Me: "Newsroom."
Old Sounding Lady: "Yes, hello, I'm needing the food section."
Me: "Well, we don't really have a dedicated food section or anything, but I could try to help you."
OSL: "Well, now, there's 'Jane Doe' who writes that column there every week."
Me: "Yes, ma'am, but she's a correspondent and not actually in our office."
OSL: "Oh, but now I've called up there before and spoken to someone in your food section."

We've never had a food section. Ever. We have one lady on the copy desk who knows a fair bit and as of graduation two years ago, we have me. That's it. Reality is a fickle bitch that way.

Me: "Well, what can I help you with, ma'am?"
OSL: "Well I wanted to know, I made this barbeque chicken on Monday, and I wanted to know if it would be okay to eat today."

Wut.

*presses Rewind on internal cassette player, double-checks...yes, that actually was the question*

Me: "...um. Okay. Well, has it been in the refrigerator?"
OSL: "Oh yes, been in there ever since."
Me: "Okay. Is the fridge at a good low temperature?"
OSL: "Oh yes, really cold. And the door's barely been opened since then."
Me: "Ah. Well, ma'am, to be honest, yes, I personally would feel perfectly safe eating that barbeque, then. I'd check it for smell and texture but if you think it seems okay, I think you'd be all right."
OSL: "Well, now, that's why I want to talk to someone in the food section. I want to hear from them about it.

*sigh*

Me: *forcing what hopefully sounds like good-natured laughter* "Well, ma'am, as I said, we don't actually have a food section, but I myself am actually a certified chef, so I'm telling you that you should probably be okay to try out those leftovers if you think they seem all right."
OSL: "Well, I just really wanted to talk to the food section about it."
Me: "Ma'am, as I said, we don't have a dedicated food section, and you're actually probably talking to the most qualified food person in the building right now, and like I said, if you've taken the precautions you said you did, your barbeque should still be okay to eat. Just check it yourself first."
OSL: "And what's your name?"
Me: "Mysty."
OSL: "First or last name?"
Me: *starting to feel a bit more testy by now* "First."
OSL: "Well, what's your last name?"

NOPE.

Me: "Well I'm really not comfortable giving that out over the phone, ma'am."

And suddenly, bitch mode has been activated.

OSL: *super snotty and pissed* "Well why not??"
Me: *slightly taken aback at sudden venom* "I'm just...not, ma'am."
OSL: *abruptly screaming* "WELL EXCUSE ME FOR CALLING THEN!!" *slams phone in ear*

Ow.

Seriously, though, why on Earth would that be a question you would call someone to ask about anyway? It's leftovers. Poke it with a stick and if it doesn't bite back, eat it. What expertise do you expect someone to have to make that declaration for you over the phone??

Anyway, I warned my bosses that if she tried to call back and bitch, all I was trying to do was help a crazy lady have some chicken...

[wolfie]

I realize that chicken isn't classed as red meat, but hasn't Crazy Lady heard of the rule-of-thumb for food?

Red meat is good for you. Fuzzy blue-green meat is bad for you.

[TimmyHate]

Poke it with a stick and if it doesn't bite back, eat it.

Red meat is good for you. Fuzzy blue-green meat is bad for you.

Your ideas are intriguing to me and I wish to subscribe to your newsletter.

[MoonCat]

the usual mediocre stupidity

You got that right, fellow newspaper-person!

Love the crazy lady with the chicken...She's probably from the era when "if it was in the paper, it MUST be true", so somebody in the paper's "food section" would know ALL about these things, don'tcha know?

You should have put her on hold and then answered again in a silly voice, "Food section!" Then she'd probably have accepted anything you told her.

[XCashier]

In case anyone's interested, this website is a good guide on what is still safe to eat or not. So for the lady's question, here it says 3-4 days, so she would've been right on the last day.

Back on topic, what part of "no food section" is so difficult to understand?! Does she really think arguing about it will bring the food section out of hiding?! And flipping out over you not giving her last name...sheesh!

[Firecrackers Not Included]

You should have put her on hold and then answered again in a silly voice, "Food section!"

That is exactly what I was waiting for...!
Woulda' been great!!

[Seshat]

This is where you have a fake name.

Mysty Brown. Mysty Dopplepoppleopokus. Mysty bin Hidin.

[prjkt]

I often use the full version of my company's name ( it's a contraction) and and an "s" on the end...

[Marmalady]

Mysty Brown. Mysty Dopplepoppleopokus. Mysty bin Hidin.

Mysty Mountainhop.

[EricKei]

Mysty Mystborn, child of Mysty Mystyson of Clan Riven. ^_^

Alternatively, "Wall, what's your last name, Ma'am?"

If she answers, just say "Oh wow! We have the same last name!"

That woman simply wasn't listening, tho, so it wouldn't have mattered.

[dalesys]

Mysty Mountainhop.

Bet that goes over like a lead balloon.

[Geek King]

I hate to bring this up, but the insistence on a last name tweaked my scam alarms. I wonder if she wasn't looking for a lawsuit target. "But MystY said it was okay! She made me feel safe to eat what made me sick! Pay me!"

[EricKei]

MG: Sounds like this genius just wanted a "someone else." As in "The expert is always someone else." Thing is, YOU'RE the freaking expert. One more vote of sympathy, here, from another fellow newspaper-type-person

GK: She could have just claimed to have spoken to "Bob" when complaining. Because There Must Always Be a 'Bob'.

[sms001]

Mysty Playforme

I probably wouldn't let anyone get a "safe or not" answer out of me under any circumstances. It could have been the very next day, but if it wasn't cooked properly in the first place, no amount of correct holding is gonna help.

[thatcrazyredhead]

"My last name is actually three words: Nunya Dam Bizniss."

As a side note, I think the most useful thing I learned when I was in college is how long leftovers last, both in and out of the fridge. Did you know that macaroni and cheese will start to look like the inside of an uncooked hotdog if you leave it on the counter for too many days?