Nothing like a good fever to keep a person down. This is the third cold/fever I have had in three weeks. I just get over one, and get to feeling human again and another one pops up. The funny part is I almost think its the same illness. Same symptoms, same crappy feeling...and maybe it just never completely goes away?
I really want just to hibernate. But the virus has other ideas.
To defeat the body aches, muscle stiffness, and the feeling that I am living in some sub zero alternate universe, I piled on three blankets. To which the virus replied "Bahahahaha....you'll have to come out of your cocoon to pee about a thousand times tonight." I must have woken up every two hours to pee.
To try and feel better, I am taking mega amounts of vitamin C, but the virus says "That'll cost you...it will sting your sore, swollen throat and make you feel like vomiting because your stomach is full of sinus drainage."
To try and get the fever down, I took an Aleve, a fever reducer so that maybe I can handle a day at work. But, the virus has replied with a headache. I am still going to try to go to work. I may be home early, we'll see. I'm trying to repopulate my sick days, which isn't easy, considering.
One of my cousins assures me that this is exactly how she ended up in the hospital with bronchitis that the doctors thought was turning into pneumonia. Great. Just what I need. I really hope I can beat this thing. I don't even have a doctor.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Chickens and merchandising
Place: New Hudson, MI
Setting: Tractor Supply Company
Time of day: 12:30 pm to 8:00 pm
The store currently has an infestation of poultry various types of chickens and one type of ducks. People walk in the front door and crinkle up their noses and I often hear "What's that weird smell?" escape their lip flaps. Then, the "Awww....soooooo...cuuuuutteeeee" starts and they never, for some reason, equate that gross, funky smell with the poultry.
People are constantly taken aback when I tell them I think the poultry are "ucky." I enjoy doing this, and find myself doing it on purpose more and more often the longer the infestation lasts. I rather like the startled expressions the statement evokes and am waiting for the day when one of the customers asks me why. They never do. It's weird. And when that person does ask, I shall ask them to clean out the chicken bedding and water the little buggers. There are so many birds right now because the hatchery apparently amped up the order for Easter that the little buggers reek and are overcrowded and the bedding needs constant care.
I also enjoy watching Jason talk about the chickens. I have heard him, on more than one occasion, say the following: "Oh, they are bloodthirsty little devils. Yeah, I know they've conned you into thinking they are cute little fuzzballs and then, they'll all gang up and eat one of their brethren. Yep, they are cannibals. Sometimes, all we find are feathers and bones because they've got the blood lust. You see, chickens lack emotion because their brains are tiny. So it doesn't bother them to just chow down on one of their own." I always cackle because the people so clearly don't believe him and its true. Jason mostly just thinks chickens taste good and is as immune to the cute as I am.
And then, there are the dumb questions asked with such enthusiasm that sometimes I wonder if that person realizes how idiotic they sound. I am having more and more trouble holding my tongue. And the people who ask these questions never have a sense of humor about the chickens. So there are two answers. The real answer and what I am dying to say.
1. "What do you do with the chickens once the hatchery stops sending them?"
Real answer: we sell them until they are gone just like any other item in our inventory.
The answer in my brain: Pop them in the deep fryer, bones and all. It's quite tasty once you get past all the bone crunching and the chewy bit of feet. Mmmmmm McNuggets.
2. "So, what do people do with the chickens once they buy them?"
Real answer: raise them, either for meat or eggs.
My answer: why, teach them to play the piano, of course. We have one guy who has his own chicken orchestra and he travels the country charging admission. He's quite a hit, actually. He calls himself Colonel Sanders.
3. "Do chickens make good pets?"
Real answer: No.
My answer: Sure, you just turn them loose in your house, teach them not to poo in your bed or lay eggs in the sofa and they're excellent pets. Hours of enjoyment trying to get them to come to their names when called and hovering over the toilet once you've caught salmonella from them.
4. "Will they fly away?"
Real answer: No. They flutter sideways kind of and sort of fly, but not really. Chickens are not aerodynamic at all.
My answer: Sure. They migrate with the seasons like the lovely hummingbird. That's why everyone should have a chicken feeder in their backyard for the swarms of migrating chickens you see every spring.
5. "What do ducks do?"
Real answer: you eat them and they lay eggs. Also, they like to swim.
My answer: Oh, you raise them, then teach them to drive. Then, once they've been properly educated they get a job and move out of the house to raise their own families.
Come on, people. Wise up. The chick and duck sales are only a sneaky marketing technique to get your butts into the store so that you can spend money. No joke. The company makes more money on the accessories to feed the tiny little poultry and fence them in than on most other things they sell. And customers are all quite eager to part with money.
Example:
Chuck sees a small bag of chicken feed for $5. He thinks: hmmm... the birds are tiny, they won't eat much, buy the small bag. The bag with twice as much food is on sale right now for $6 which is a better deal but he doesn't see it because he don't think the birds will eat that much. And, Chuck believes that by buying the small bag that he will save a dollar.
Chickens eat A LOT. In fact, its all they do. Eat and poo. The bag that weighs 50 pounds is $15 which sounds like a lot until Chuck realizes he just paid $5 for 5 pounds of food and it won't even last a week. See what I mean? The company makes it really easy to part customers from their money.
Tractor Supply Company set record sales nationwide last year. It is one of the only growing retailers in the nation. Why? Because they have sneaky tactics. People think "hey, its a little hillbilly store, cool, they know my name in here, they recognize me, they are fairly knowledgeable about their products. They know about animals. They have good dog food and lots of pet supplies. THEY AREN'T WAL MART!!!!!!!"
Oh, yes, it is exactly like Wal Mart. TSC has over 1,0000 stores AND GROWING. It is a southern company controlled from Nashville, TN. Wal Mart is based somewhere in the south, like Alabama. Most of the products, like Wal Mart, and, everywhere else, for that matter, are made somewhere like China or Taiwan or Indonesia with a few exceptions. Associates are hired in at minimum wage. There is no commission. There is no job security. And, since three people can usually comfortably run the store, the number of people employed at one location isn't that many. Usually around 15 people. And, most of them will be part-time employees who may work two days a week for five hours a day.
Bolts are sold by the pound and not by the piece, which is brilliant since lots of hardware business can be garnered from Lowe's and Home Depot WITHOUT THOSE COMPANIES EVEN REALIZING they are being undersold! Men love bolts by the pound...its a sneaky way to gain a new customer. What the company won't earn off of selling bolts, it will earn by selling that same person an over priced tee shirt, over priced soda, over priced candy, ect. And the person will be ELATED that so much money was saved on bolts that they won't realize all the other things they bought were too expensive. All corporations do this.
Lots to think about the next time you are in a store that is selling adorable baby animals.
Setting: Tractor Supply Company
Time of day: 12:30 pm to 8:00 pm
The store currently has an infestation of poultry various types of chickens and one type of ducks. People walk in the front door and crinkle up their noses and I often hear "What's that weird smell?" escape their lip flaps. Then, the "Awww....soooooo...cuuuuutteeeee" starts and they never, for some reason, equate that gross, funky smell with the poultry.
People are constantly taken aback when I tell them I think the poultry are "ucky." I enjoy doing this, and find myself doing it on purpose more and more often the longer the infestation lasts. I rather like the startled expressions the statement evokes and am waiting for the day when one of the customers asks me why. They never do. It's weird. And when that person does ask, I shall ask them to clean out the chicken bedding and water the little buggers. There are so many birds right now because the hatchery apparently amped up the order for Easter that the little buggers reek and are overcrowded and the bedding needs constant care.
I also enjoy watching Jason talk about the chickens. I have heard him, on more than one occasion, say the following: "Oh, they are bloodthirsty little devils. Yeah, I know they've conned you into thinking they are cute little fuzzballs and then, they'll all gang up and eat one of their brethren. Yep, they are cannibals. Sometimes, all we find are feathers and bones because they've got the blood lust. You see, chickens lack emotion because their brains are tiny. So it doesn't bother them to just chow down on one of their own." I always cackle because the people so clearly don't believe him and its true. Jason mostly just thinks chickens taste good and is as immune to the cute as I am.
And then, there are the dumb questions asked with such enthusiasm that sometimes I wonder if that person realizes how idiotic they sound. I am having more and more trouble holding my tongue. And the people who ask these questions never have a sense of humor about the chickens. So there are two answers. The real answer and what I am dying to say.
1. "What do you do with the chickens once the hatchery stops sending them?"
Real answer: we sell them until they are gone just like any other item in our inventory.
The answer in my brain: Pop them in the deep fryer, bones and all. It's quite tasty once you get past all the bone crunching and the chewy bit of feet. Mmmmmm McNuggets.
2. "So, what do people do with the chickens once they buy them?"
Real answer: raise them, either for meat or eggs.
My answer: why, teach them to play the piano, of course. We have one guy who has his own chicken orchestra and he travels the country charging admission. He's quite a hit, actually. He calls himself Colonel Sanders.
3. "Do chickens make good pets?"
Real answer: No.
My answer: Sure, you just turn them loose in your house, teach them not to poo in your bed or lay eggs in the sofa and they're excellent pets. Hours of enjoyment trying to get them to come to their names when called and hovering over the toilet once you've caught salmonella from them.
4. "Will they fly away?"
Real answer: No. They flutter sideways kind of and sort of fly, but not really. Chickens are not aerodynamic at all.
My answer: Sure. They migrate with the seasons like the lovely hummingbird. That's why everyone should have a chicken feeder in their backyard for the swarms of migrating chickens you see every spring.
5. "What do ducks do?"
Real answer: you eat them and they lay eggs. Also, they like to swim.
My answer: Oh, you raise them, then teach them to drive. Then, once they've been properly educated they get a job and move out of the house to raise their own families.
Come on, people. Wise up. The chick and duck sales are only a sneaky marketing technique to get your butts into the store so that you can spend money. No joke. The company makes more money on the accessories to feed the tiny little poultry and fence them in than on most other things they sell. And customers are all quite eager to part with money.
Example:
Chuck sees a small bag of chicken feed for $5. He thinks: hmmm... the birds are tiny, they won't eat much, buy the small bag. The bag with twice as much food is on sale right now for $6 which is a better deal but he doesn't see it because he don't think the birds will eat that much. And, Chuck believes that by buying the small bag that he will save a dollar.
Chickens eat A LOT. In fact, its all they do. Eat and poo. The bag that weighs 50 pounds is $15 which sounds like a lot until Chuck realizes he just paid $5 for 5 pounds of food and it won't even last a week. See what I mean? The company makes it really easy to part customers from their money.
Tractor Supply Company set record sales nationwide last year. It is one of the only growing retailers in the nation. Why? Because they have sneaky tactics. People think "hey, its a little hillbilly store, cool, they know my name in here, they recognize me, they are fairly knowledgeable about their products. They know about animals. They have good dog food and lots of pet supplies. THEY AREN'T WAL MART!!!!!!!"
Oh, yes, it is exactly like Wal Mart. TSC has over 1,0000 stores AND GROWING. It is a southern company controlled from Nashville, TN. Wal Mart is based somewhere in the south, like Alabama. Most of the products, like Wal Mart, and, everywhere else, for that matter, are made somewhere like China or Taiwan or Indonesia with a few exceptions. Associates are hired in at minimum wage. There is no commission. There is no job security. And, since three people can usually comfortably run the store, the number of people employed at one location isn't that many. Usually around 15 people. And, most of them will be part-time employees who may work two days a week for five hours a day.
Bolts are sold by the pound and not by the piece, which is brilliant since lots of hardware business can be garnered from Lowe's and Home Depot WITHOUT THOSE COMPANIES EVEN REALIZING they are being undersold! Men love bolts by the pound...its a sneaky way to gain a new customer. What the company won't earn off of selling bolts, it will earn by selling that same person an over priced tee shirt, over priced soda, over priced candy, ect. And the person will be ELATED that so much money was saved on bolts that they won't realize all the other things they bought were too expensive. All corporations do this.
Lots to think about the next time you are in a store that is selling adorable baby animals.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Babies are Parasites
Since everyone in the known small universe of my existence is either still preggo, has 8 weeks to go, has recently calved, or probably wants to become preggo (strange phenomena...at least, to me) I thought I would post this.
I cannot, for various reasons, imagine anyone WANTING a thing growing inside their uterus only to rip its way out like the Aliens in the Sigourney Weaver movie,and then, following me around for the rest of my life to continue the abuse and agitation; so I decided to do a highly unscientific Google search on "babies are parasites."
Babies are not cute, they are, quite simply, poo machines that occasionally projectile vomit curdled milk product just to mix it up.
Apparently, if you Google this term there is some rather heated debate going on at Yahoo! answers and other forums. Who knew? Not me. I just figured I was a lone freak. If I were to find myself pregnant at any point in my life, I would absolutely want an abortion. I lack the mothering instincts while around human children and quite often think that natural selection should be allowed to run its course on children. If the parent's are dumb enough NOT to watch the kid, well, hell, let it get run over by a bus, one less idiot in the world.
Because I like pictures more than words, here are a couple.
HUMAN FETUS
TAPEWORM
To me, they are equally gross and disturbing. So, if you are wanting to be an expectant mother...consider this first:)
I cannot, for various reasons, imagine anyone WANTING a thing growing inside their uterus only to rip its way out like the Aliens in the Sigourney Weaver movie,and then, following me around for the rest of my life to continue the abuse and agitation; so I decided to do a highly unscientific Google search on "babies are parasites."
Babies are not cute, they are, quite simply, poo machines that occasionally projectile vomit curdled milk product just to mix it up.
Apparently, if you Google this term there is some rather heated debate going on at Yahoo! answers and other forums. Who knew? Not me. I just figured I was a lone freak. If I were to find myself pregnant at any point in my life, I would absolutely want an abortion. I lack the mothering instincts while around human children and quite often think that natural selection should be allowed to run its course on children. If the parent's are dumb enough NOT to watch the kid, well, hell, let it get run over by a bus, one less idiot in the world.
Because I like pictures more than words, here are a couple.
To me, they are equally gross and disturbing. So, if you are wanting to be an expectant mother...consider this first:)
Thursday, March 29, 2012
The Magic Sewer Fairy was Here.
Taking a nice hot shower has got to be one of the most awesome things in the world; especially when the fear of poo ending up on the floor of the laundry room has passed. Also, poo going away from the house is pretty awesome in itself.
We broke down (pretty simple since our toilet became an outhouse pretty quick), rented an auger from Home Depot for $50 and did it ourselves. Imagine, less mess than professionals have made in my house...and poo going away! I hope it stays like this for a while, though. Stupid drain always having tree roots, lint and whatever the hell else gets stuck in there.
I'd rather believe the plumbing is magic and water just happens and poo just goes away. Much more simplified and easy.
I am borderline doing chores, boring, boring chores such as built-up laundry, and dishes, and surfing the net. Should vacuum, maybe I will, later.
In other news...Jason made it back to work after his "suspension" and on the pain of being fired if he reveals the reason why. Needless to say, he told me anyway. But, as I love this guy, I shall keep my trap shut. I have been "elevated/punished" for being fast at sorting freight. I not only must sort/work dog food pallets now that they realized how quick I am at sorting pallets (my job because Jason vanished for a time) that I have now usurped his job. Not really for the best. My old break in my left wrist is so aggravated by all this activity on the same day that it aches almost like I've broken it again. How do I know I haven't? I can stand to move it and not cry all the time. There was weather moving through so I suppose I could just be going to develop arthritis in there. Wouldn't shock me.
A friend of mine brought a counter to our store meeting and we took bets on how many times our "fearless leader" could say "mkay" in the course of two hours. Apparently, two hundred ninety. No one even guessed that high.
And, then, I found this link via another friend and it makes me sad, angry and other emotions I probably haven't even had time to process yet. pigs to be slaughtered based on haircolor Only in the state of Michigan. Read and form your own opinions.
We broke down (pretty simple since our toilet became an outhouse pretty quick), rented an auger from Home Depot for $50 and did it ourselves. Imagine, less mess than professionals have made in my house...and poo going away! I hope it stays like this for a while, though. Stupid drain always having tree roots, lint and whatever the hell else gets stuck in there.
I'd rather believe the plumbing is magic and water just happens and poo just goes away. Much more simplified and easy.
I am borderline doing chores, boring, boring chores such as built-up laundry, and dishes, and surfing the net. Should vacuum, maybe I will, later.
In other news...Jason made it back to work after his "suspension" and on the pain of being fired if he reveals the reason why. Needless to say, he told me anyway. But, as I love this guy, I shall keep my trap shut. I have been "elevated/punished" for being fast at sorting freight. I not only must sort/work dog food pallets now that they realized how quick I am at sorting pallets (my job because Jason vanished for a time) that I have now usurped his job. Not really for the best. My old break in my left wrist is so aggravated by all this activity on the same day that it aches almost like I've broken it again. How do I know I haven't? I can stand to move it and not cry all the time. There was weather moving through so I suppose I could just be going to develop arthritis in there. Wouldn't shock me.
A friend of mine brought a counter to our store meeting and we took bets on how many times our "fearless leader" could say "mkay" in the course of two hours. Apparently, two hundred ninety. No one even guessed that high.
And, then, I found this link via another friend and it makes me sad, angry and other emotions I probably haven't even had time to process yet. pigs to be slaughtered based on haircolor Only in the state of Michigan. Read and form your own opinions.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Nasty People
A man had the nerve to ask me, rather nastily, "Don't you have any Safe Choice?" (It's a type of horse feed, for those who don't know.) So I obliged and went searching through the back room. Yep, we had four whole bags. Then, the man commenced to say "How come its two dollars cheaper at the feed store at my house? Why is TSC so expensive?" He was in such a nasty temper that I replied that I didn't know and skittered as far away from his as possible.
What he didn't realize is that had he been nicer, I would have offered to price match the feed for him. I am sick of the biggest assholes getting everything they want. He left empty-handed.
The other day, a rather nasty woman was hollering "HELLLOOOO! HelllOOOOO!!! Does ANYBODY work here?" in the clearance section. Yes, of course, there were loads of people working that day. I, of course, decided to just keep doing my job, which was to sort feed pallets and talk to my pal who was visiting the store and is also a paying customer. I figured this nasty bitch could wait until I felt damn good and ready to deal with her bullshit. And Jessica ended up dealing with her lazy ass.
If I ran the store, the following would be enforced:
1. Longer wait times for the self-important:
The squeaky wheel, in this case, will NOT get the grease. Be polite, wait your turn, remember that you are dealing with other human beings who, in all cases, aren't earning enough money to live on. You are not the King of Fredsylvania where when you say "Jump," we ask "how high?" In fact, the more you squeak, protest, sigh, roll your eyes, complain, and in general become nasty...you will....have a longer wait. What do I care what you are late for? I get paid by the hour. Perhaps you should have planned ahead and realized that doing things take actual time.
2. Cell phone etiquette:
If you, are in fact, insistent on using your cell phone whilst a cashier is trying to communicate with you, that cashier shall then pull his/her own cell phone out of a pocket, dial-a-friend, discuss the complexities of his/her life in absolute dirt-under-the-fingernails detail until you cease and desist with your call. Then the cashier will also hit the "end" button and concentrate on YOU.
3. Returns:
The return policy will be simple and short. No returns without receipt. No returns after thirty days. No returns if the product has been obviously used and ruined by you. No returns without clothing tags. No exceptions.
4. No personal checks accepted:
This holds up the line. Even when I explain to you that you do NOT have to fill out the check AT ALL...I have to wait on you to fill out the motherfucking thing and balance your checkbook...what the hell? And guess, what, all the people behind you also have to wait. Checks work like debit cards. Get a debit card or use one. There is no "float time" anymore. Payment is immediate. Even better, use cash.
5. There will be a dollar deposit on carts.
Need a cart, leave a dollar, put the cart away, get your dollar back. It's amazing how much laziness can be avoided if a surcharge is involved. We don't have cart racks and they shouldn't be necessary.
6. The bathroom shall remain locked until a key is requested.
If you leave the bathroom a mess, you shall be required to clean the poo off the wall, the toilet, and anything else your poo has come into contact with. If you decide to pee and spin in a circle, you will be cleaning urine off every square inch of the bathroom. And, yes, I may delegate an employee to police the bathroom.
I may think of more later. But, for now, it is nearly 2 a.m. I am tired, still cranky from work and it is cold in my house because I am stubbornly refusing to turn the furnace back on...Detroit Edison and MichCon get too much of my money as it is. And the paychecks are both short this time. Yay, enslavement.
What he didn't realize is that had he been nicer, I would have offered to price match the feed for him. I am sick of the biggest assholes getting everything they want. He left empty-handed.
The other day, a rather nasty woman was hollering "HELLLOOOO! HelllOOOOO!!! Does ANYBODY work here?" in the clearance section. Yes, of course, there were loads of people working that day. I, of course, decided to just keep doing my job, which was to sort feed pallets and talk to my pal who was visiting the store and is also a paying customer. I figured this nasty bitch could wait until I felt damn good and ready to deal with her bullshit. And Jessica ended up dealing with her lazy ass.
If I ran the store, the following would be enforced:
1. Longer wait times for the self-important:
The squeaky wheel, in this case, will NOT get the grease. Be polite, wait your turn, remember that you are dealing with other human beings who, in all cases, aren't earning enough money to live on. You are not the King of Fredsylvania where when you say "Jump," we ask "how high?" In fact, the more you squeak, protest, sigh, roll your eyes, complain, and in general become nasty...you will....have a longer wait. What do I care what you are late for? I get paid by the hour. Perhaps you should have planned ahead and realized that doing things take actual time.
2. Cell phone etiquette:
If you, are in fact, insistent on using your cell phone whilst a cashier is trying to communicate with you, that cashier shall then pull his/her own cell phone out of a pocket, dial-a-friend, discuss the complexities of his/her life in absolute dirt-under-the-fingernails detail until you cease and desist with your call. Then the cashier will also hit the "end" button and concentrate on YOU.
3. Returns:
The return policy will be simple and short. No returns without receipt. No returns after thirty days. No returns if the product has been obviously used and ruined by you. No returns without clothing tags. No exceptions.
4. No personal checks accepted:
This holds up the line. Even when I explain to you that you do NOT have to fill out the check AT ALL...I have to wait on you to fill out the motherfucking thing and balance your checkbook...what the hell? And guess, what, all the people behind you also have to wait. Checks work like debit cards. Get a debit card or use one. There is no "float time" anymore. Payment is immediate. Even better, use cash.
5. There will be a dollar deposit on carts.
Need a cart, leave a dollar, put the cart away, get your dollar back. It's amazing how much laziness can be avoided if a surcharge is involved. We don't have cart racks and they shouldn't be necessary.
6. The bathroom shall remain locked until a key is requested.
If you leave the bathroom a mess, you shall be required to clean the poo off the wall, the toilet, and anything else your poo has come into contact with. If you decide to pee and spin in a circle, you will be cleaning urine off every square inch of the bathroom. And, yes, I may delegate an employee to police the bathroom.
I may think of more later. But, for now, it is nearly 2 a.m. I am tired, still cranky from work and it is cold in my house because I am stubbornly refusing to turn the furnace back on...Detroit Edison and MichCon get too much of my money as it is. And the paychecks are both short this time. Yay, enslavement.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Sieg Heil
What a week filled with shit-balloons.
My pal Jason got fired/forced to quit by some Corporate Nazis. I called him to ask what happened, left message, have thus far not gotten any reply. Maybe he's too upset or maybe he's sworn to secrecy. Yes, let's fire ALL the people who work hard and fill the store with incompetence. Seems to be the corporate creed. It's possible that I would be next on that list. Amazing that they haven't figured out how little I care about their corporate goals and the more they force their will upon me, the less I care.
I am now forced to close the store a few nights with a blonde uber bitch whose idea of "work" is standing at the service desk surfing the internet for whatever suits her. She should have been the one in the office on the chopping block. I wonder if she set something in motion. Wouldn't put it past her. Sieg Heil.
Also, my "store bonus" which is the largest percentage over plan I have ever seen at 60%, turned out to be a whopping $71. Bullshit. Who's getting all that money? Certainly not anyone who actually worked hard for it and deserves it. Thanks, once again, for fucking me over you greasy corporate bastards. Get YOUR asses in a store, get paid $8.96 an hour and TRY to pay your bills, assholes. It is so time for a new job. Problem is, I think they ALL are going to be just like this one, or worse. Makes for a nation filled with optimists, doesn't it? I've had 20% over plan bonuses that were larger.
An old friend of mine died and I had to find out about it on Facebook, which is the only reason I found out about it at all since I don't live in that state anymore. I can just see Josh now, tall, lanky, wearing glasses, short brown hair, snickering at some jock, hanging out with his friends, which were predominantly female...we miss you already, old pal. Thirty four is fairly young, but knowing you, I imagine you led a full life. I hope the end wasn't too difficult.
Jon may or may not get his vacation pay based on whether his district manager approves it. What fucking bullshit. We need the money. Especially since my "bonus" seems more like "just throw them a bone and shut them up money." Some corporate rigamarole about how no one was "supposed" to be taking vacation that week. This is, of course, the first Jon has heard about vacation restrictions.
My sister in law was induced to have her baby at 5 pm on Wednesday. By 1 pm on Thursday, no luck. So, she had a C-Section. Katie and Aleisha are both okay. Took its toll on my brother though. I called to talk to him and he was fighting back tears because this was such an awful process. Wish I could have been there for him. If something had gone horribly wrong, I'd have been driving all night to get to him. I'm glad everything is kind of okay. I think a C section is pretty horrible though, for all the doctors treat it as a normal procedure.
My cousin also had her baby. All went well, I guess. Then, her husband was hospitalized for pneumonia.
Ruth is still on baby watch. I hope hers has the sense to pick a better week. The stars are out of alignment or something else I don't fully comprehend. Or nature is out of whack--80 degrees outside and its only March. Strange weather.
My pal Jason got fired/forced to quit by some Corporate Nazis. I called him to ask what happened, left message, have thus far not gotten any reply. Maybe he's too upset or maybe he's sworn to secrecy. Yes, let's fire ALL the people who work hard and fill the store with incompetence. Seems to be the corporate creed. It's possible that I would be next on that list. Amazing that they haven't figured out how little I care about their corporate goals and the more they force their will upon me, the less I care.
I am now forced to close the store a few nights with a blonde uber bitch whose idea of "work" is standing at the service desk surfing the internet for whatever suits her. She should have been the one in the office on the chopping block. I wonder if she set something in motion. Wouldn't put it past her. Sieg Heil.
Also, my "store bonus" which is the largest percentage over plan I have ever seen at 60%, turned out to be a whopping $71. Bullshit. Who's getting all that money? Certainly not anyone who actually worked hard for it and deserves it. Thanks, once again, for fucking me over you greasy corporate bastards. Get YOUR asses in a store, get paid $8.96 an hour and TRY to pay your bills, assholes. It is so time for a new job. Problem is, I think they ALL are going to be just like this one, or worse. Makes for a nation filled with optimists, doesn't it? I've had 20% over plan bonuses that were larger.
An old friend of mine died and I had to find out about it on Facebook, which is the only reason I found out about it at all since I don't live in that state anymore. I can just see Josh now, tall, lanky, wearing glasses, short brown hair, snickering at some jock, hanging out with his friends, which were predominantly female...we miss you already, old pal. Thirty four is fairly young, but knowing you, I imagine you led a full life. I hope the end wasn't too difficult.
Jon may or may not get his vacation pay based on whether his district manager approves it. What fucking bullshit. We need the money. Especially since my "bonus" seems more like "just throw them a bone and shut them up money." Some corporate rigamarole about how no one was "supposed" to be taking vacation that week. This is, of course, the first Jon has heard about vacation restrictions.
My sister in law was induced to have her baby at 5 pm on Wednesday. By 1 pm on Thursday, no luck. So, she had a C-Section. Katie and Aleisha are both okay. Took its toll on my brother though. I called to talk to him and he was fighting back tears because this was such an awful process. Wish I could have been there for him. If something had gone horribly wrong, I'd have been driving all night to get to him. I'm glad everything is kind of okay. I think a C section is pretty horrible though, for all the doctors treat it as a normal procedure.
My cousin also had her baby. All went well, I guess. Then, her husband was hospitalized for pneumonia.
Ruth is still on baby watch. I hope hers has the sense to pick a better week. The stars are out of alignment or something else I don't fully comprehend. Or nature is out of whack--80 degrees outside and its only March. Strange weather.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Adventures in Retail
Today was an adventure in customer service.
I thought the full moon was last week, while I was on vacation and I wouldn't have to deal with all the strange, wacky and just plain weirdos that seem to find their way into the store. I didn't count on my own seemingly amazing natural ability to attract the bizarre, the weird and the strange. My assistant manager says I am just one brilliant weirdo magnet.
So, once Courtney had gone home for the day; I ran into quite the cast of wild characters.
Enter Snake Man. This would be a man, wearing a tee shirt with a snake on it AND a hat with a snake body printed on the cap bit with a SNAKE HEAD sticking up--NOT PRINTED--latex or some sort of rubber material that looked like one of those flesh-like dildos--sticking up off the hat bill! I couldn't contain myself. I had to go outside where Jess was cleaning off the lawn tractors and bring her in the witness the "glory." I really wanted to whip out a camera phone and snap a photo to post but didn't dare. It may have cost me my job.
Then came Dog Food Lady. She snagged one of the large feed carts--designed for 15-25 bags of feed--because she needed a large cart for dog food, or so she said. She arrived at the register with two bags of dog food in tow. I like to imagine she bought a Ford Super Duty 350--because she needed to haul large loads--to carry home those same two bags of dog food which would easily fit--and much, much more than that in my two door Cobalt.
Continuing the stampede of weirdos was a phone call. I answered the phone with the traditional Nazi spiel "Thank you for calling Tractor Supply, what are you looking for today?" He replied "Well, you aren't going to like what I'm looking for." "Oh. Well, what is it?" I asked apprehensively, wondering if this was an obscene phone call despite my total recognition of the voice. "Well," he said, "I'm looking for my .38 pistol. It was in my vest while I was getting hay loaded into my truck. I hate to think that someone took it out of my vest." I personally, with Cheryl, the receiver had loaded this guy. There was no gun involved, anywhere. I wouldn't have touched him for a hundred dollar bill. He's 70 years old, grumpy, a pain in the butt, and I had asked Cheryl to help me load him in case he gave us any trouble. He didn't. Until the phone call. I sent the assistant manager out back and into the storage building to look for the gun. Her first reaction was "Well, I hope he knows if I find it, I have to alert the cops." Luckily, no gun.
Then, another phone call. A woman, this time, looking for a water trough. I asked her if she wanted metal or plastic. She didn't seem to care. I asked her how many gallons of water she wanted it to hold, and this seemed to stun her. Then she replied that she actually wanted it to plant flowers in. I replied that we have such a thing as flower pots. Oh, no, she wanted a water trough and asked what the price ranges were. I told her $70 plus, all the way up to $140, depending on the quality, the material, and the number of gallons of water the troughs are capable of holding. Wow, she said, that's a lot of money--I found one at a garage sale once for $5. I think people mistakenly believe that if a farmer needs to buy something for his animals, that its inexpensive...ah, its actually the other way around. The things you NEED are the most expensive.
Tomorrow, as the story goes, is another day. Oh, hell, what's next?
I thought the full moon was last week, while I was on vacation and I wouldn't have to deal with all the strange, wacky and just plain weirdos that seem to find their way into the store. I didn't count on my own seemingly amazing natural ability to attract the bizarre, the weird and the strange. My assistant manager says I am just one brilliant weirdo magnet.
So, once Courtney had gone home for the day; I ran into quite the cast of wild characters.
Enter Snake Man. This would be a man, wearing a tee shirt with a snake on it AND a hat with a snake body printed on the cap bit with a SNAKE HEAD sticking up--NOT PRINTED--latex or some sort of rubber material that looked like one of those flesh-like dildos--sticking up off the hat bill! I couldn't contain myself. I had to go outside where Jess was cleaning off the lawn tractors and bring her in the witness the "glory." I really wanted to whip out a camera phone and snap a photo to post but didn't dare. It may have cost me my job.
Then came Dog Food Lady. She snagged one of the large feed carts--designed for 15-25 bags of feed--because she needed a large cart for dog food, or so she said. She arrived at the register with two bags of dog food in tow. I like to imagine she bought a Ford Super Duty 350--because she needed to haul large loads--to carry home those same two bags of dog food which would easily fit--and much, much more than that in my two door Cobalt.
Continuing the stampede of weirdos was a phone call. I answered the phone with the traditional Nazi spiel "Thank you for calling Tractor Supply, what are you looking for today?" He replied "Well, you aren't going to like what I'm looking for." "Oh. Well, what is it?" I asked apprehensively, wondering if this was an obscene phone call despite my total recognition of the voice. "Well," he said, "I'm looking for my .38 pistol. It was in my vest while I was getting hay loaded into my truck. I hate to think that someone took it out of my vest." I personally, with Cheryl, the receiver had loaded this guy. There was no gun involved, anywhere. I wouldn't have touched him for a hundred dollar bill. He's 70 years old, grumpy, a pain in the butt, and I had asked Cheryl to help me load him in case he gave us any trouble. He didn't. Until the phone call. I sent the assistant manager out back and into the storage building to look for the gun. Her first reaction was "Well, I hope he knows if I find it, I have to alert the cops." Luckily, no gun.
Then, another phone call. A woman, this time, looking for a water trough. I asked her if she wanted metal or plastic. She didn't seem to care. I asked her how many gallons of water she wanted it to hold, and this seemed to stun her. Then she replied that she actually wanted it to plant flowers in. I replied that we have such a thing as flower pots. Oh, no, she wanted a water trough and asked what the price ranges were. I told her $70 plus, all the way up to $140, depending on the quality, the material, and the number of gallons of water the troughs are capable of holding. Wow, she said, that's a lot of money--I found one at a garage sale once for $5. I think people mistakenly believe that if a farmer needs to buy something for his animals, that its inexpensive...ah, its actually the other way around. The things you NEED are the most expensive.
Tomorrow, as the story goes, is another day. Oh, hell, what's next?
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