So, there I am driving home last night and I come upon a roadblock. Seems that there was an accident a little further up the road, and the decision was made to block off passage at a point where folks could turn and detour around the accident site. That is, if you knew where the hell you were going once you did take the detour. Or if the person who is manning the road block knew what the hell he was talking about when he gave you directions to where you wanted to go.
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. I got turned around out in the middle of godforsakennooneeverdrivesthisfreakinpotholestrewnroad pennsylvania. And drove an extra 30 minutes to get to where I DID know where I was. And then got followed by an unmarked police car for about 5 miles. How do I know that it was an unmarked car? Because I turned onto a major road, went by a car wash and this car came jetting out from behind the car wash and stayed on my tail until I crossed over the county line, and then the car turned around back to where it went.
All in all this was crazy trip home. But just another chapter in the life of me.
Content. Interesting stuff. What the hell do you come around here for?
I try to read a bunch of blogs every day. Some having to do with the business of blogging, some having to do with peoples lives. And in each one of the blogs I read, other than Post Secret I come across the same lament time and time again.
I don’t have anything to write about. Help me out. Send me suggestions as to what you want me to write about.
What the hell?
My problem is that I have way too much crap to write about. Most of it is a variation on a theme, but that is what my life is about. And I don’t expect any of the 3 people who come here to read this to have to chime in like some kind of creepy synchophant to tell me what they want me to write about. That isn’t your job. Your job is to read what interests you and move on. Maybe you comment, which I would like to see more of, maybe you just think “Hmmmmm”, maybe you delete me from your reader. But don’t think that I am ever going to beg you to help me organize the crap in my head. First off, I would be terrified to actually let you in. Visions of police, and mental health workers dance through most of my dreams. Secondly, I wouldn’t have any idea of how to do it without sounding like I was begging.
Pleeeeeezzzzzze, help me figure out what to write about!!!
Not me. Not how I roll. Thank you for the ones who come here weekly to check in on how crazy I am becoming. Thank you for the ones who have commented. Please feel free to continue to comment, and for those of you who haven’t yet please do make a comment if you can. I promise not to bite.
And thanks for letting me get that off of my chest. That has been niggling at my cerebral cortex for days.
My home state of Michigan has one of the highest unemployment rates in the United States. The states economy was built on the car industry. Making cars, selling cars, and all of the items that go into the cars that they wanted you to buy. My eldest brother works for a company that supplies to the car industry. My middle brother was layed off from an industry supplier after having worked for them for 29+ years. Isn’t that a kick in the pants?
With all of the down turns, and no real up turns in Michigan the number of working poor continues to climb. As our economy has continued to turn from manufacturing economy to a service economy we have watched wages stagnate, and the cost of everything else sky rocket. Rent goes up, utilities go up, fuel costs go up. CEO’s make millions while the families of the employees that were layed off to make those millions struggle to get by.
Something is very, very wrong here.
Back in early December we had an ice storm that took out our power. There are times when being without power isn’t a bad thing. Unfortunately, the early part of December is not one of those times. It got cold. Really cold. That I can’t pile on too many blankets to get warm kind of cold.
Those in our family with fireplaces faired better than we did. Did I mention that it was cold? So I got looking around for a way to not have that happen again. Our house is electric, and to put in another electric heater would mean running another line to a new breaker. Way too much time, effort, and cash to do that. Then we looked at gas fireplaces. That sounds like a better idea.
And the way we are going to go.
In two weeks I will be back home. Where I am right now. Well, not exactly where I am right now. Right now I am in a coffee shop waiting for The Princess to finish with her volleyball clinic. But in two weeks I will be back in Pennsylvania.
You see, in a week from this coming Saturday I will be winging my way to sunny Arizona. At least it had better be sunny, or else the eldest daughter and I will be having discussions. About how she guaranteed me that there would be sunshine when I came to visit her.
And I will not be happy roaming around in the desert in the rain. Some how the two seem to be mutally exclusive. Desert. Rain. And since we are going to the Arizona RenFaire, which is held out in the desert, you can’t have rain. Because to get into the spirit of things with a desert RenFaire you have to believe that you are in the Holy land with the Crusaders. And it doesn’t rain in the desert.
Well, it does, but you get where I am coming from.
We have discussed Retail Etiquette numerous times. We have talked about some basic things that just should not be done, and we have talked about some things that should be done.
But it seems that there are still some items that have escaped notice. For instance:
Please do not call me asking if I have any openings for your son/daughter. When I have a Mom, and it is always a Mom, call me looking for a job for their child in the back of my mind there is this shrill alarm that goes off. Because something, somewhere, is telling me that your little darling isn’t all that interested in getting a job. You are interested in them getting a job. That doesn’t help me. Or your kid.
There is nothing wrong with getting off of your butt, going to the local store and asking the Manager how to apply. It is really that simple. And if your kid can’t do that, how are they going to be able to do all of the customer service related things that I need them to do? Think about it. And if I don’t have any jobs, or if their school schedule doesn’t work out with what I have to offer, then let them go to the next store and try again. It isn’t as if I have labeled them unemployable. I just don’t have a job for them. They will live with that rejection. It will be good for them.
Because when you Mom’s try to get your kids a job, then you want to dictate their schedule. And I don’t play that way. So, let your little darlings learn to ask for themselves. It will make the world a much nicer place.
Especially all of you state workers from Pennsylvania. And Hi Pam. Saw you stop in yesterday also. Appreciate you guys coming over for a lookee see. But come on, drop a comment or two. I know you all have a lot to say. Especially Pam.
I promise that I won’t bite. And you won’t be on some super secret list of people whose names I am going to sell to some creepy telemarketer, or scuzzy spam master. Promise. Really.
Though I might comment back to you. You know, like conversation. That dying art form.
Try it. You might like it.
Part of a continuing series where I try to teach you, dear readers, to not be ignorant slobs to those of us who work in retail.
So where can we go today in our Retail Etiquette instructions?
I know. Weekend insensitivity. That is a good place to begin.
People who work in retail work weekends. Why? BECAUSE WE HAVE TO YOU IDIOT!!! Someone has to be at the stores to sell you the crap that you HAVE TO HAVE RIGHT NOW so that you can go home and feel good about what you bought that you didn’t really need. So, when we are working and you are trying to assuage your ego by spending money, don’t make semi-sarcastic comments to us about having to work on the weekends. It isn’t funny. We would like some time off with our families also. But the bank likes to know that we will have the mortgage payment coming in on a regular basis.
Which brings us to the next part. We work in retail for a lot of different reasons. Some of us are using it as a bridge, some and just there for some cash, some to support themselves through school, and some of us have made it our career. It is a service profession, not slavery. A store of any kind, is one of many. You can choose to go buy the things you want anywhere you want. But when you get to that special store, you are going to have to deal with one of us. Retail People. Don’t be an idiot to us. We want you to get the things you want, and go home. We are not trying to screw you.
Even though we work in the same store day after day, we don’t touch every single item in the store. Yes, sad but true, we do not know where every single thing is in the store. You don’t know where everything is in your house, don’t expect me to know where every widget is. Be real. I could go on and on about this, but what is the use. You are going to come into my store, or the store of one of my fellows, and want some porcelain covered widget in just the perfect shade of puce and freak out when we can’t find it. doofus.
Ok. That is it for now. More will happen as you make me crazy.
I remember when the band “Insane Clown Posse” came out. MLW and the kids thought that it was a hoot. My email inbox ran out of room from all of the emails I received with pics of them. I was not amused.
What I do find amusing is the number of hits this site receives from google with “Scary Clowns” as the criteria. Coming from Europe. Why are they so inamored with my version of scary clowns? I am having bad dreams about these things. I do not find this amusing.
But I wonder why folks in Europe are so interested in scary clowns. If anyone has an idea, please let me know.
You won!! Send me your address through my email contact and I will send you your hemp bracelet. Then, once you get it, I just need you to tell everyone here how wonderful it is.