I've been campaigning lately to have my friend name her blob in utero "Hedgie", but since she has come up with a reasonable alternative if the blob should be a girl-blob, I will only campaign to name it "Hedgie" should it be a boy-blob because her alternative "Stinky Manling" is less cute than "Hedgie." Other than that, I feel like Ru needs spoiling and I shall have a bit of disposable money for once...so Ru shall have a prezzie because I love her. I just have to find the right thing to make Ru's happy.
Fifty percent of my co-workers need better senses of humor. Of course girl dummies need balloon titties...I mean, really, just play along...it makes the day go faster. Girl dummy looked depressingly like boy dummy and while not all girls have big breasts, maybe she would still have liked some tiny ones? This was fairly mild suggestion from me; who used to suggest to Scott in Ohio that he should put on a pink hat and go pole dance in the parking lot on the slow days to lure in customers....and he would laugh and do a little sexy girl-dance, then suggest he could wear some Daisy Dukes! I should not be surprised since this is from the same woman who found Karl's "Tote of Oppression" nickname for the stupid recovery tote offensive and apparently not at all funny. Now, I've got Jason calling it the "tote of oppression" so the Poodle should watch out, she may just have to evolve a better sense of humor. Or she's going to have to find a way to draw in more customers. Me being bored at work equals me thinking up evil thoughts.
My Auntie Max's husband John died this week. I am not above using my forceful personality to encourage my dad to help rally his sister by traveling to Florida with her for a while. She has no family down there and she's going to need family. She and John had great times together in their short but happy marriage and my dad is in a place in his life where he has the opportunity to help out by doing whatever she needs. She actually is the one who suggested this and I am aiming to squash any and all of his objections. Namely, the financial ones. Being frugal is all well and good, except my dad takes this too much to heart. Live a little dad. It won't all be sad. You'll have some fun traveling with Auntie Max, she knows how to have a good time. You know that. When I talked to him the other night, he made no excuses, he has no good ones and he knows I can shoot them all out of the air anyway. I am also too practical for my own good, which is why I married Jon, who is too unpractical for his own good...we are a good balance.
Went riding on Sunday for the first time in a looooooong time. Loved it. Had soooo much fun, horse was absolutely sweet and having fun even though I thought it was weird she didn't spook at weird shadows or whatever it is that horses always spook at when they have lava in their veins. I'd never ridden a gaited horse before and it is strange, but I am very adaptable. I can get used to most things. Getting up early, getting up late, as long as I am consistent...riding a gaited horse compared to a normal horse is less of an adjustment than that...but still less bouncy and somewhat strange.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Mixed Nuts
This week customers have
1. Argued over whether or not the New Hudson location sells goat's milk soap. Adamantly, confidently and quite crankily. This man was seriously trying to pick a fight over soap. A presumably straight, bearded, man. It was difficult not to laugh in front of him over the absurdity of the situation and I had to call in a manager. He wouldn't take my word for it...then he argued with HER.
2. Lost a purse and somehow assumed I had seen anything. Customer called, said she wondered if anyone had found a purse in a cart, I said no, but that I would look. I found nothing. Took her information, name, phone number, posted a brief note on the register to call her if one is found...she showed up at the store arguing with me over whether or not I found it, what we would do with it if it were found (put it in the office safe, of course), if I had seen her with it, yes, I did. She had like 6 different checkbooks in there and was trying to figure out which account she wanted to pay her bill with...seemed weird, which is why I even remember her at all. She left kind of huffy. Called back, got the Poodle, asked if we had cameras and if they'd show anything...nope, sadly we don't qualify for cameras (imagine!) so we can all pick our asses and no one will ever see...
3. Asked me a million questions about stoves, while I was running the cash register, then when I paged someone on the floor to help them, didn't want to talk about stoves at all.
4. Have jumped out from behind the gun safes at others and gotten thrown out of the store.
5. Yelled at me that the Black Oil Sunflower seeds are too pricy (even though the Spurminator has them on some sort of perma-sale of $2 off the price the other stores are offering) and that he won't be buying any more and that the birds will have to just learn to go hungry!!!! Trying to guilt-trip me into thinking wild birds can't fend for themselves is just about the most idiotic thing I have ever heard a customer say.
6. Walked past me while looking for a man to "assist" him then came hollering that he can't find any help. Then, when I found him the correct oil filter and gas shut-off for his fuel line, kept saying how Sears charged him 5 dollars more for the air filter I had in stock...in disbelief. Don't buy a Craftsman, people. They don't stock the parts, and there's the trick. They ORDER them for you at a cost.
7. Have thrown random feed bags into aisle because (and I quote) "I couldn't put them in the cart"....????????? How does that help? Then, when I was nice and got a cart, loaded the feed, she spent 15-20 minutes in line arguing over the prices of this and that and oh, could someone load the stall mats she'd previously paid for but not picked up, and oh, how about 3 bags of pine shavings, too....and when I'd wiped my hands free of her because I can't load stall mats by myself, poor Dale had to stuff them into some car with all that feed and the shavings.
8. Been overly annoyed when I couldn't break a hundred dollar bill without handing them a ka-billion fives. Really people. Really. I told you all I had was fives. Maybe you should take that to heart. Sometimes, we just open a register and most of those times, all there are are FIVES! So, maybe, when you purchase an item that totals out to $2.98, you should look for one dollar bills in your wallet, or quarters, or something.
9. Haven't understood the difference between Scratch Grain and actual chicken feed. I think I had to explain that to six different people this week. It is NOT food...its busy-work for chickens!!! You will just have malnourished birds unless you let them free-range or feed them real food.
10. Have tried to feed straw instead of hay to a goat because we sell straw for cheaper than we sell the hay...then wondered why the goat "didn't seem to like it." Some people just shouldn't have animals.
And these are the ones I REMEMBER! I'm sure there were more. At least I was moderately entertained by most of these annoyances. On another note, I got a raise. I make 4 cents shy of $9 an hour. The Spurminator tried to make this sound like big money by calling it a 3% raise. Oh and I'm not enough of a "salesperson". Fuck that. I don't want to be. I'll help you, I'll be nicer than I have a right to be, considering what's going through my head, but I am not, and have never professed to be a sales person. I don't like playing "Let's Make a Deal." Fuck all you people. Why should you get a better deal than the next person simply because you're a cheapskate/slimeball? I am not a corporate Nazi, I don't want to lose my job because I know I won't find a better one, but I WILL NEVER buy into the CORPORATE ZOMBIE MINDSET they are foisting on us all.
1. Argued over whether or not the New Hudson location sells goat's milk soap. Adamantly, confidently and quite crankily. This man was seriously trying to pick a fight over soap. A presumably straight, bearded, man. It was difficult not to laugh in front of him over the absurdity of the situation and I had to call in a manager. He wouldn't take my word for it...then he argued with HER.
2. Lost a purse and somehow assumed I had seen anything. Customer called, said she wondered if anyone had found a purse in a cart, I said no, but that I would look. I found nothing. Took her information, name, phone number, posted a brief note on the register to call her if one is found...she showed up at the store arguing with me over whether or not I found it, what we would do with it if it were found (put it in the office safe, of course), if I had seen her with it, yes, I did. She had like 6 different checkbooks in there and was trying to figure out which account she wanted to pay her bill with...seemed weird, which is why I even remember her at all. She left kind of huffy. Called back, got the Poodle, asked if we had cameras and if they'd show anything...nope, sadly we don't qualify for cameras (imagine!) so we can all pick our asses and no one will ever see...
3. Asked me a million questions about stoves, while I was running the cash register, then when I paged someone on the floor to help them, didn't want to talk about stoves at all.
4. Have jumped out from behind the gun safes at others and gotten thrown out of the store.
5. Yelled at me that the Black Oil Sunflower seeds are too pricy (even though the Spurminator has them on some sort of perma-sale of $2 off the price the other stores are offering) and that he won't be buying any more and that the birds will have to just learn to go hungry!!!! Trying to guilt-trip me into thinking wild birds can't fend for themselves is just about the most idiotic thing I have ever heard a customer say.
6. Walked past me while looking for a man to "assist" him then came hollering that he can't find any help. Then, when I found him the correct oil filter and gas shut-off for his fuel line, kept saying how Sears charged him 5 dollars more for the air filter I had in stock...in disbelief. Don't buy a Craftsman, people. They don't stock the parts, and there's the trick. They ORDER them for you at a cost.
7. Have thrown random feed bags into aisle because (and I quote) "I couldn't put them in the cart"....????????? How does that help? Then, when I was nice and got a cart, loaded the feed, she spent 15-20 minutes in line arguing over the prices of this and that and oh, could someone load the stall mats she'd previously paid for but not picked up, and oh, how about 3 bags of pine shavings, too....and when I'd wiped my hands free of her because I can't load stall mats by myself, poor Dale had to stuff them into some car with all that feed and the shavings.
8. Been overly annoyed when I couldn't break a hundred dollar bill without handing them a ka-billion fives. Really people. Really. I told you all I had was fives. Maybe you should take that to heart. Sometimes, we just open a register and most of those times, all there are are FIVES! So, maybe, when you purchase an item that totals out to $2.98, you should look for one dollar bills in your wallet, or quarters, or something.
9. Haven't understood the difference between Scratch Grain and actual chicken feed. I think I had to explain that to six different people this week. It is NOT food...its busy-work for chickens!!! You will just have malnourished birds unless you let them free-range or feed them real food.
10. Have tried to feed straw instead of hay to a goat because we sell straw for cheaper than we sell the hay...then wondered why the goat "didn't seem to like it." Some people just shouldn't have animals.
And these are the ones I REMEMBER! I'm sure there were more. At least I was moderately entertained by most of these annoyances. On another note, I got a raise. I make 4 cents shy of $9 an hour. The Spurminator tried to make this sound like big money by calling it a 3% raise. Oh and I'm not enough of a "salesperson". Fuck that. I don't want to be. I'll help you, I'll be nicer than I have a right to be, considering what's going through my head, but I am not, and have never professed to be a sales person. I don't like playing "Let's Make a Deal." Fuck all you people. Why should you get a better deal than the next person simply because you're a cheapskate/slimeball? I am not a corporate Nazi, I don't want to lose my job because I know I won't find a better one, but I WILL NEVER buy into the CORPORATE ZOMBIE MINDSET they are foisting on us all.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
To pee or not to pee
It's always the little things you never appreciate; like being able to flush the toilet, run the shower, wash the dishes and run the washing machine. And even though our drain has backed up every year that we've lived in this particular house, I always forget what a horrible feeling it is when I wake up in the middle of the night and think "I have to pee, do I want to risk the toilet? Is it still dark enough to wander out and pee in the yard?" Sometimes, I wish outhouses had never gone out of vogue, because then, at least when you have to poo and are pretty certain your utility room will flood with ick, you have some option besides letting the yellow mellow.
Of course we have been guilty of letting that telltale gurgle coast for months because we didn't have the money to have the guys come with the auger, but, I'll tell you what, that seventy dollars surfaces really quickly when you realize that every time you flush or run a faucet that room is going to flood.
And I'd never thought I'd get into a serious argument over whether or not to wash clothes in which I was entirely against washing the clothes. And my reasons were simple: wash the clothes, washer drain pours into sewer drain, sewer drain backs up into washing machine drain which backs up into washer. Then the uniform will be dirtier than when it was worn for eight hours the other day. Yay, sewage-ware!
We tried to have the problem remedied yesterday but the guys weren't available so we had to wait until around 1 pm today. I was never so happy to see on time repair guys in my life! I am now in an orgy of clothes washing, dish washing, and showering to try and catch up with all the work it was impossible to do, after of course, cleaning up the mess that was left behind and bleaching the floor of the utility room.
Now, I just have to remember that I should save seventy hours a year just to address the weird plumbing in this house. I have no idea why we have so much trouble with the sewer drain between the house and the clean-out. We don't flush abnormal amounts of toilet paper, I've trained Jon not to pour grease down the drains, and no one dumps weird things down our toilet. Are we just really hairy? I somehow doubt that much hair goes down the shower drain....but I suppose that's possible.
Of course we have been guilty of letting that telltale gurgle coast for months because we didn't have the money to have the guys come with the auger, but, I'll tell you what, that seventy dollars surfaces really quickly when you realize that every time you flush or run a faucet that room is going to flood.
And I'd never thought I'd get into a serious argument over whether or not to wash clothes in which I was entirely against washing the clothes. And my reasons were simple: wash the clothes, washer drain pours into sewer drain, sewer drain backs up into washing machine drain which backs up into washer. Then the uniform will be dirtier than when it was worn for eight hours the other day. Yay, sewage-ware!
We tried to have the problem remedied yesterday but the guys weren't available so we had to wait until around 1 pm today. I was never so happy to see on time repair guys in my life! I am now in an orgy of clothes washing, dish washing, and showering to try and catch up with all the work it was impossible to do, after of course, cleaning up the mess that was left behind and bleaching the floor of the utility room.
Now, I just have to remember that I should save seventy hours a year just to address the weird plumbing in this house. I have no idea why we have so much trouble with the sewer drain between the house and the clean-out. We don't flush abnormal amounts of toilet paper, I've trained Jon not to pour grease down the drains, and no one dumps weird things down our toilet. Are we just really hairy? I somehow doubt that much hair goes down the shower drain....but I suppose that's possible.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
911 Anniversary
I am tired of hearing the pompous 911 coverage of late. It has been nearly ten years. Get over it. It happened, we've moved on. Which is exactly what we are designed to do. People are wired to get on with their lives, its an important part of our survival mechanisms. Move on, learn, and grow. Remember, but don't dwell on the past. The excessive "anniversary" coverage seems to me to be more a ploy for ratings rather than sincere, genuine feelings. Why did all of America tune into the constant 24 hour a day news during that day? Because it was riveting, disastrous, and most important of all, full of genuine feeling. So a big Fuck You to NBC, ABC, CBS, FOX, and any other annoying news network I have forgotten to mention.
Find some genuine news, report something worthwhile and risky such as the fact that I believe more families in America are going hungry than the government would like us all to believe. Why? Because that's not the America that we want to show the world. An America whose own people are hungry because the central infrastructure is failing and we can no longer support ourselves. Find a story like that and run with it, fear losing your own overpaid jobs and risk being a rebel because that is what being an American IS about.
Sure, I am a heretic. I am the working poor. I have no religion that I passionately support, much to the bane of my own family who think that I should be a Christian. Of which denomination, I know not. My mom is kind of a Baptist and my dad is kind of a Methodist and neither practice. I do give them credit for not immediately having their children baptized "just because" and allowing us to choose for ourselves. Therefore I am not baptized and am surely going to hell in most eyes.
Just as I raised lots of eyebrows within my own family 15 years ago when I decided I would rather be cremated than pumped full of chemicals, placed in makeup, then left to rot in some plot of ground that would be better used to grow food for the growing populace than to house a community of corpses. Now, my dad is seriously considering cremation even though he was so very shocked by it when I told him so all those years ago.
Find a group of friends and debate different ideas, you never know you may strike a chord and actually have a serious conversation instead of those superficial conversations where reality tv is a major topic of banality. Stir the pot. Make trouble for your local, state, or national leaders. Ask them the hard questions they don't want to answer.
Why is it that I work 40 hours a week and still can't feed my family? Why do the rich just keep getting more ridiculously rich? Why are we allowing lobbyists to keep infiltrating our government to the detriment of most Americans? Why don't we institute term limits on the senate, the house, the supreme court, and all local governments? Why can't a Joe Schmo run for president? Why can't the term "public servant" actually apply? In no way should these politicians be earning more than 9 dollars an hour. Guess what? That's what the average American now makes. I don't care about your national averages. I want you all to realize that people are hiring in at $7.40 an hour and no matter how many hours you work a week, you can't live on that. Politicians should have to feel desperate enough to want to apply for food stamps and wonder how they are going to afford a necessary doctor's visit.
My bills are not ridiculous. My mortgage is now under $400 a month. I am not drowning in credit card debt. Until Jon landed this crappy Burger King job, I would have to weigh out buying a bar of fucking soap against food and the budget to see if we could afford to shower! This is America!
So while the news people blather on about 911, question what the hell it is they are helping the government keep out of the eyes of its own people.
Find some genuine news, report something worthwhile and risky such as the fact that I believe more families in America are going hungry than the government would like us all to believe. Why? Because that's not the America that we want to show the world. An America whose own people are hungry because the central infrastructure is failing and we can no longer support ourselves. Find a story like that and run with it, fear losing your own overpaid jobs and risk being a rebel because that is what being an American IS about.
Sure, I am a heretic. I am the working poor. I have no religion that I passionately support, much to the bane of my own family who think that I should be a Christian. Of which denomination, I know not. My mom is kind of a Baptist and my dad is kind of a Methodist and neither practice. I do give them credit for not immediately having their children baptized "just because" and allowing us to choose for ourselves. Therefore I am not baptized and am surely going to hell in most eyes.
Just as I raised lots of eyebrows within my own family 15 years ago when I decided I would rather be cremated than pumped full of chemicals, placed in makeup, then left to rot in some plot of ground that would be better used to grow food for the growing populace than to house a community of corpses. Now, my dad is seriously considering cremation even though he was so very shocked by it when I told him so all those years ago.
Find a group of friends and debate different ideas, you never know you may strike a chord and actually have a serious conversation instead of those superficial conversations where reality tv is a major topic of banality. Stir the pot. Make trouble for your local, state, or national leaders. Ask them the hard questions they don't want to answer.
Why is it that I work 40 hours a week and still can't feed my family? Why do the rich just keep getting more ridiculously rich? Why are we allowing lobbyists to keep infiltrating our government to the detriment of most Americans? Why don't we institute term limits on the senate, the house, the supreme court, and all local governments? Why can't a Joe Schmo run for president? Why can't the term "public servant" actually apply? In no way should these politicians be earning more than 9 dollars an hour. Guess what? That's what the average American now makes. I don't care about your national averages. I want you all to realize that people are hiring in at $7.40 an hour and no matter how many hours you work a week, you can't live on that. Politicians should have to feel desperate enough to want to apply for food stamps and wonder how they are going to afford a necessary doctor's visit.
My bills are not ridiculous. My mortgage is now under $400 a month. I am not drowning in credit card debt. Until Jon landed this crappy Burger King job, I would have to weigh out buying a bar of fucking soap against food and the budget to see if we could afford to shower! This is America!
So while the news people blather on about 911, question what the hell it is they are helping the government keep out of the eyes of its own people.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Yay for Money!
I never thought I'd say this but I should have bought Jon a bottle of Anti-Monkey Butt powder. Also, I never figured he would volunteer for a twelve hour shift his first day on the job at a Burger King. That's right, he works for the King and is happy to work there after being unemployed since January. He is going to keep looking for non-food related jobs however. For some reason, its easier to find a job if you already have one. They hired him on the spot (Jon having gotten a reference from a buddy's girlfriend) at 2 pm and was working at 6pm.
He called at 1:00 am and requested a Red Bull which I was loathe to take him since Westland is not exactly just down the street, but I figured he wouldn't ask if he didn't really need it, so I went anyway. A cop was hunting and decided to make me his prey. He bugged me for about 5 miles, trying to get me to do something stupid. Pulling up close behind me, then getting into the second lane (not the turn lane) and STOPPING to see what I would do, I guess. I just kept driving. He then continued to follow me and aggravate me. Must be nice to have a public service job where your main objective is to piss off the public. That's a twist. But, eventually, I suppose he got tired of me, and headed for more fruitful waters like a good predator.
I took Jon his Red Bull and went back home, no cops in tow. By 4 am I was finally asleep, by 7 am the dogs were having a fit because Jon was home and whining about crotch rot and sweat and that he wasn't used to working a twelve hour shift in kitchen heat. So I guess when I go back to work tomorrow I shall buy him a bottle of Anti Monkey Butt powder. He doesn't work again until Sunday night. I don't know what time. A job's a job. And we need the money. My pitiful 1200 a month doesn't get us very far; it gets us to just barely. Just barely paying all the bills, just barely buying groceries, and, if we're very lucky, just barely buying things like laundry detergent.
I went back to sleep and fought the battle of the stolen blanket for another few hours then gave up. It's impossible to keep the blanket from Jon, who is intent on hogging the whole damn thing and he's bigger than me, so I always end up losing while I'm asleep. I am grouchy and have no caffeine. I should be doing dishes and laundry instead of playing on the internet, but I just am not in the mood and do not have the energy at the moment. Yes, its noon, and yes, I should be awake by now, luckily, I wasn't scheduled to work today, but I really think I'll probably just end up curled up on the couch so I don't have to battle for the blanket.
He called at 1:00 am and requested a Red Bull which I was loathe to take him since Westland is not exactly just down the street, but I figured he wouldn't ask if he didn't really need it, so I went anyway. A cop was hunting and decided to make me his prey. He bugged me for about 5 miles, trying to get me to do something stupid. Pulling up close behind me, then getting into the second lane (not the turn lane) and STOPPING to see what I would do, I guess. I just kept driving. He then continued to follow me and aggravate me. Must be nice to have a public service job where your main objective is to piss off the public. That's a twist. But, eventually, I suppose he got tired of me, and headed for more fruitful waters like a good predator.
I took Jon his Red Bull and went back home, no cops in tow. By 4 am I was finally asleep, by 7 am the dogs were having a fit because Jon was home and whining about crotch rot and sweat and that he wasn't used to working a twelve hour shift in kitchen heat. So I guess when I go back to work tomorrow I shall buy him a bottle of Anti Monkey Butt powder. He doesn't work again until Sunday night. I don't know what time. A job's a job. And we need the money. My pitiful 1200 a month doesn't get us very far; it gets us to just barely. Just barely paying all the bills, just barely buying groceries, and, if we're very lucky, just barely buying things like laundry detergent.
I went back to sleep and fought the battle of the stolen blanket for another few hours then gave up. It's impossible to keep the blanket from Jon, who is intent on hogging the whole damn thing and he's bigger than me, so I always end up losing while I'm asleep. I am grouchy and have no caffeine. I should be doing dishes and laundry instead of playing on the internet, but I just am not in the mood and do not have the energy at the moment. Yes, its noon, and yes, I should be awake by now, luckily, I wasn't scheduled to work today, but I really think I'll probably just end up curled up on the couch so I don't have to battle for the blanket.
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