We were supposed to be having Thanksgiving in a new house. I suppose I could be bitter about it, but I'm not. It's a blessing; an unanswered prayer I guess. God said no, several times to this home loan and we didn't listen. We didn't want to listen because we wanted what we wanted. Typical of the flesh. Putting our fleshly needs in front of what God wants for us. God has a plan. The plan never comes when we want it to, but it will. That is the nice thing about faith. However, you have to have faith in order for His plan to come to fruition.
This has been a very difficult year. For more reasons than I care to mention, 2010 is looking like heaven compared to 2009. No matter how bad it has been, I am still thankful. I am thankful for the trials of my life. God will not give me more than I can handle. I am thankful for my friends and family. I am thankful for their support through sickness and health. I am blessed with 3 wonderful children, all breathing and functioning as their ages and stage of life will permit. I am very thankful for my wife who was the glue that kept our wobbly wheel moving forward. I am thankful for healthy parents, full of wisdom, as well as opinions, all of which I need, even at my age. I am thankful for God giving me the courage to go back to school and giving me opportunities for scholastic and spiritual growth, seemingly all at once. I am thankful for Gus, my English Bulldog, not for his incredible ability to conserve energy, but making sure he is laying close by our family. I am also grateful for his snores. They tell me that he is happy and content.
So, this year, to you and yours, I wish you a very Happy Thanksgiving. Do not forget to tell those close to you how much you love them, appreciate them and that you are grateful they are in your lives.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Something Stupid This Way Comes
This will be in the comedy show....but for those of you that miss it, here it is.
So Walmart and I have a relationship like Pamela and Tommy Lee, minus the kids and Hepatitis. Although, if you browse peopleofwalmart.com, there is a high likelihood that, given the time of day and the aisle I go down, hepatitis might find me. We both like to fook the other. You speak code, don't you? My apartment computer will not allow me to properly express myself, but you get the gist of it. I hope you do. If not, please discontinue reading. :)
That being said, I had to go to Walmart, driving by Albertson's mind you, to get some milk that my wife had forgotten to purchase. I can't play mind games at Albertson's. It isn't a battle of wit worth having. No one likes sparring with an equal. It isn't any fun. In order to dominate, you must pick on someone less capable. Hence, 99% of the employees at Walmart. It's like picking on a freshman as an upperclassman. Its a right of passage to belittle. Although I never really took advantage of that right growing up, I am making up for it in my later years.
The people at the customer service counter are about as bright as a burnt out aquarium bulb. For those of you that know me well, I am one that likes to break the monotony of life and provide variety in places that some people maybe overlook. For example, when people come to return an item or several items, the first thing they say to the person at the counter is "This product is (X) and I would like to return it." To me, that would get boring, constantly having to accommodate without really having the opportunity to say something like "I'm sorry, but we are know longer accepting summer clothes, and these look used." So, when I went in there, I was hoping to mix things up. Its like shaking dynamite. Never know what is gonna happen.
The first question always baffles me. "May I help you?" I always look up at the signage that says CUSTOMER SERVICE, wondering if I went to the right place if you had to ask me what I needed. I am not sure how many times I have thought of saying "no, thank you. I am good," and just loiter in the entrance into the customer service area. I had bigger fish to fry that evening. I went up to the pre-pubescent and said I had called ahead to get some canned ice and I was in a hurry to get it and go. "Pardon?" Canned ice. I spoke with (remember I know the manager's names now from having spoken to them many times in my attempts to work there) Reuben, and he told me to go to the customer service counter and get my canned ice. Where is my canned ice? I'm double parked. If this was an airport, I could be shot. I am risking my life because I NEED CANNED ICE! The girl was baffled, as she should be. She said she would see if she could find some for me right away, and left the counter. Her associate just stood there, no doubt still processing what just happened, having to shift through the bong-resin lined ganglia in her brain to formulate if in fact my request was legitimate. I don't know where the girl went. It seemed like an hour passed. I kept looking at my cell phone busily, as if I was being inconvenienced. Not having moved much, the 2nd associate was staring at me blankly like a dry erase board. I said to her, "I don't know why I even bothered calling ahead." Her facial expressions did not change. She just nodded, involuntarily since gravity did most of the work.
The original person came back, walkie talkie in hand. "OK, sir...what were you looking for?" I said canned ice, CANNED ICE...how hard is this," knowing full well this charade had to come to an end soon since the person on the other end of technology had to know that there was no such thing. I hear a gentleman's voice repeat the request and he said, "OK, hold on." The gal asked me to hold on and they were checking, not knowing that I was capable of reasoning that out all on my own. I again feigned impatience, checking my cell phone every 10 seconds. I told her I needed this ASAP for a recipe and they were really screwing with my timing. I bitched about incompetence and the necessity of having a secondary education, properly formed synapses and fully functioning gray matter, until I heard the walkie talkie bark out, "We don't have any canned ice." The gal says, again not knowing I can hear, "we don't have any." I said "Reuben told me you did, he told me he would set aside 2 cans of it and he said I could come here and pick it up. Are you telling me I am being lied to?" I stepped back to check the signage again and said, "am I not in the customer service section? I am not feeling the service. I am feeling taken advantage of and I AM IN A HURRY!"
At that point, she paraphrased everything I said into the walkie talkie, emphasizing that a manager had indicated they did, in fact, have canned ice and to continue to look for it. I huffed a bit and told the gal I was going to go move my car into a parking space and out of the fire lane and that when I returned , I expect to have my two cans of canned ice, DIET, here at the counter. The gal apologized, and said they would get it up ASAP. I told them, ala Arnold, "I'll be back."
I got in my car and left. I had my milk, which was the only reason I came in the first place. I am sure I created a little variety too. Variety is the spice of life, even if you are stupid.
So Walmart and I have a relationship like Pamela and Tommy Lee, minus the kids and Hepatitis. Although, if you browse peopleofwalmart.com, there is a high likelihood that, given the time of day and the aisle I go down, hepatitis might find me. We both like to fook the other. You speak code, don't you? My apartment computer will not allow me to properly express myself, but you get the gist of it. I hope you do. If not, please discontinue reading. :)
That being said, I had to go to Walmart, driving by Albertson's mind you, to get some milk that my wife had forgotten to purchase. I can't play mind games at Albertson's. It isn't a battle of wit worth having. No one likes sparring with an equal. It isn't any fun. In order to dominate, you must pick on someone less capable. Hence, 99% of the employees at Walmart. It's like picking on a freshman as an upperclassman. Its a right of passage to belittle. Although I never really took advantage of that right growing up, I am making up for it in my later years.
The people at the customer service counter are about as bright as a burnt out aquarium bulb. For those of you that know me well, I am one that likes to break the monotony of life and provide variety in places that some people maybe overlook. For example, when people come to return an item or several items, the first thing they say to the person at the counter is "This product is (X) and I would like to return it." To me, that would get boring, constantly having to accommodate without really having the opportunity to say something like "I'm sorry, but we are know longer accepting summer clothes, and these look used." So, when I went in there, I was hoping to mix things up. Its like shaking dynamite. Never know what is gonna happen.
The first question always baffles me. "May I help you?" I always look up at the signage that says CUSTOMER SERVICE, wondering if I went to the right place if you had to ask me what I needed. I am not sure how many times I have thought of saying "no, thank you. I am good," and just loiter in the entrance into the customer service area. I had bigger fish to fry that evening. I went up to the pre-pubescent and said I had called ahead to get some canned ice and I was in a hurry to get it and go. "Pardon?" Canned ice. I spoke with (remember I know the manager's names now from having spoken to them many times in my attempts to work there) Reuben, and he told me to go to the customer service counter and get my canned ice. Where is my canned ice? I'm double parked. If this was an airport, I could be shot. I am risking my life because I NEED CANNED ICE! The girl was baffled, as she should be. She said she would see if she could find some for me right away, and left the counter. Her associate just stood there, no doubt still processing what just happened, having to shift through the bong-resin lined ganglia in her brain to formulate if in fact my request was legitimate. I don't know where the girl went. It seemed like an hour passed. I kept looking at my cell phone busily, as if I was being inconvenienced. Not having moved much, the 2nd associate was staring at me blankly like a dry erase board. I said to her, "I don't know why I even bothered calling ahead." Her facial expressions did not change. She just nodded, involuntarily since gravity did most of the work.
The original person came back, walkie talkie in hand. "OK, sir...what were you looking for?" I said canned ice, CANNED ICE...how hard is this," knowing full well this charade had to come to an end soon since the person on the other end of technology had to know that there was no such thing. I hear a gentleman's voice repeat the request and he said, "OK, hold on." The gal asked me to hold on and they were checking, not knowing that I was capable of reasoning that out all on my own. I again feigned impatience, checking my cell phone every 10 seconds. I told her I needed this ASAP for a recipe and they were really screwing with my timing. I bitched about incompetence and the necessity of having a secondary education, properly formed synapses and fully functioning gray matter, until I heard the walkie talkie bark out, "We don't have any canned ice." The gal says, again not knowing I can hear, "we don't have any." I said "Reuben told me you did, he told me he would set aside 2 cans of it and he said I could come here and pick it up. Are you telling me I am being lied to?" I stepped back to check the signage again and said, "am I not in the customer service section? I am not feeling the service. I am feeling taken advantage of and I AM IN A HURRY!"
At that point, she paraphrased everything I said into the walkie talkie, emphasizing that a manager had indicated they did, in fact, have canned ice and to continue to look for it. I huffed a bit and told the gal I was going to go move my car into a parking space and out of the fire lane and that when I returned , I expect to have my two cans of canned ice, DIET, here at the counter. The gal apologized, and said they would get it up ASAP. I told them, ala Arnold, "I'll be back."
I got in my car and left. I had my milk, which was the only reason I came in the first place. I am sure I created a little variety too. Variety is the spice of life, even if you are stupid.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Apparently Unemployable
I can't get a job. My thought is that I am apparently not educated enough (since high school Juniors can obtain an AA degree now before they graduate) and do not have anything more than a 2-year degree. I figured FOR SURE, I could get a job at Walmart, even if it was moving something from point A to point B, 300 times at minimum wage. I don't really care what I am doing, as long as it is at night so I continue to go to school, and finish with a Nursing degree. Then I can take care of all of the geriatrics that collapse working at Walmart because they thought a 401K was a breakfast cereal.
I received a call from the manager at Walmart asking if I was interested in employment. Sure, I said, as long as it was at night. He said they were hiring for night staff and put me in touch with a night manager. I called after 10PM, three separate times. Three times I was told I would be called back after 10-15 minutes. Three times I went to bed without a phone call. So I showed up unannounced and spoke with the manager I had spoken to previously. She indicated that she was very busy and that she had my name and number and would be calling me. When, I asked. When she had a chance to check the job requisitions. I wondered if these job requisitions were located close to the International Space Station and she was just waiting for a ride. Honestly, how long can it take? Given her lack of personal hygiene, my guess was she was anxiously waiting to get back to electronics to steal some D-cells and get her vibrator up and running so she could formulate thoughts and complete sentences.
So I compiled a list of reasons why I cannot work at Walmart. More to the point, why I can't get HIRED at Walmart.
1. I have 23 pairs of chromosomes.
2. I have use of both my arms and legs.
3. Too young to be a greeter.
4. I don't involuntarily drool.
5. I am too clean, practicing good personal hygiene.
6. I look better in blue than the managers do.
7. My teeth are straight and could afford ortho care if they weren't, and
would notice the need for ortho care before the stares made it obvious.
8. I have a diploma, an AA degree and the desire to further my education
9. I can spell aisle
10. I don't have bed head
11. I can fluctuate my voice and change the volume based on the type of conversation and proximity of the person I am talking to.
12. I know that a tomato is a fruit, and doesn't just come in sauce
13. I speak English only, which amazes me that I am penalized for
14. I have a more comprehensive vocabulary than monosyllabic words that pertain only to greetings, asking if I found everything OK, and have a nice day.
15. Brains and personality
16. I won't make Walmart my career and am not afraid to tell whomever is asking that working at Walmart is a pass-through to a more promising and more rewarding career in the medical field.
17. Forget to say 'like' and 'um' 38 times during a phone call.
18. Don't have rheumatoid arthritis
19. Know that dogs cannot eat cat food and vice versa.
20. Understands the alarm going off means someone just stole something and would get up to find out why rather than holding the floor down.
These are just a few. I am sure there are more. It is frustrating to be functional, yet dysfunctional to Walmart. It's ironic, actually, that since I am dysfunctional, they won't consider me being that is the dysfunctional kingdom of the world. Whatever....there is always a paper route.
I received a call from the manager at Walmart asking if I was interested in employment. Sure, I said, as long as it was at night. He said they were hiring for night staff and put me in touch with a night manager. I called after 10PM, three separate times. Three times I was told I would be called back after 10-15 minutes. Three times I went to bed without a phone call. So I showed up unannounced and spoke with the manager I had spoken to previously. She indicated that she was very busy and that she had my name and number and would be calling me. When, I asked. When she had a chance to check the job requisitions. I wondered if these job requisitions were located close to the International Space Station and she was just waiting for a ride. Honestly, how long can it take? Given her lack of personal hygiene, my guess was she was anxiously waiting to get back to electronics to steal some D-cells and get her vibrator up and running so she could formulate thoughts and complete sentences.
So I compiled a list of reasons why I cannot work at Walmart. More to the point, why I can't get HIRED at Walmart.
1. I have 23 pairs of chromosomes.
2. I have use of both my arms and legs.
3. Too young to be a greeter.
4. I don't involuntarily drool.
5. I am too clean, practicing good personal hygiene.
6. I look better in blue than the managers do.
7. My teeth are straight and could afford ortho care if they weren't, and
would notice the need for ortho care before the stares made it obvious.
8. I have a diploma, an AA degree and the desire to further my education
9. I can spell aisle
10. I don't have bed head
11. I can fluctuate my voice and change the volume based on the type of conversation and proximity of the person I am talking to.
12. I know that a tomato is a fruit, and doesn't just come in sauce
13. I speak English only, which amazes me that I am penalized for
14. I have a more comprehensive vocabulary than monosyllabic words that pertain only to greetings, asking if I found everything OK, and have a nice day.
15. Brains and personality
16. I won't make Walmart my career and am not afraid to tell whomever is asking that working at Walmart is a pass-through to a more promising and more rewarding career in the medical field.
17. Forget to say 'like' and 'um' 38 times during a phone call.
18. Don't have rheumatoid arthritis
19. Know that dogs cannot eat cat food and vice versa.
20. Understands the alarm going off means someone just stole something and would get up to find out why rather than holding the floor down.
These are just a few. I am sure there are more. It is frustrating to be functional, yet dysfunctional to Walmart. It's ironic, actually, that since I am dysfunctional, they won't consider me being that is the dysfunctional kingdom of the world. Whatever....there is always a paper route.
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