A transfer...

After everything I've gone through in the deli, they are finally going to transfer me out. I was offered to be a cashier or do stocking. I have chosen to do stocking, only because it works better for ride sharing. What I found somewhat amusing is that some of the cashiers were like, "You're going to be a cashier, right?" Like they were already planning on us working together...It's nice to be liked. Either that or they heard I work hard and they figure I'll work hard so they don't have to. Eh, whatever. I am hoping it all works out. I'll be going in tomorrow to finalize it all with the store manager. I never got a chance to tell him all the BS I know about Smokey knowing Smokey Jr. outside of work and such, but whatever...At least no more allergic reactions!!


In other news, yesterday I went to go get my hair cut before I went work. I shouldn't have gone back to Super Cuts because the guy who cut my hair last time was a jerkwad...Alas, I went back and got a girl instead. I said, "I want my hair cut with the A-line cut. Cut the back to the hair line. I want about an inch or so off the front." She said, "Okay" in her Scarlett Johansson wanna-be voice and started cutting. Phoenix took my phone to the Verizon store next door to have them do something with my God-awful phone that freezes up constantly. I shouldn't have to take out the battery to hang up the phone, you know? She returned a few moments later and handed me my phone angrily and said, "I'll tell you what he said later." She then asked, "What's this?" as she pointed at my hair. She went off telling the girl the back was too long and that it wasn't cut at the angle. The girl said, "If I cut it shorter the a-line will be gone." The girl went back and cut it again and now I have approximately chin-length hair that's not really an a-line cut. It's shorter in the back and longer in the front, but it's not the definite a-line. Whatever. People think it looks all right...I think it's the shortest my hair has been since birth...I need my Boo Boo Kitty!! She cuts my hair so I look cute!!


As for my phone, I guess the guy basically told Phoenix it's a piece of shit phone and I should only expect to send and receive calls...Except it doesn't even do that 90% of the time. Whatever. I can't even re-up until July. Good times, I tell you.

Craig's List...

You know, people use Craig's List to sell stuff, find roommates, find jobs, etc...There are even personal ads on Craig's List, which is a bit weird, but hey, everyone needs love...Okay, they're probably not looking for love on Craig's List, but you know what I mean. So, there's a section for people looking for friends too. How do I know this, you ask? No, not because I am so desperate that I needed to go looking for friends, but because Phoenix was looking at Craig's List and then asks, "What's platonic?" I said, "Friends." She said, "Oh. You can find friends on here." I then insisted I didn't need friends that badly. Of course, this is the part where she continued looking at the ads because she doesn't believe me. As she read off an ad to me, which I found mildly amusing because it sounded like the girl was looking for a girlfriend (not in a platonic sort of way) even though she said, "I'm not looking for a date." Yeah, I wasn't looking for a date either when I had an ad up saying I was looking for a partner in crime. *shifty eyes* Hey, don't give me that look! Phoenix found me! I simply threw out the baited hook to see what would come to me when I reeled it in. But I digress...


Anyway, reading these ridiculous ads gave me an idea...What if I were to respond to them and meet some of these people and then write a book about the type of people who are so desperate for human connections that they turn to online websites to find that? Hey, I might make some friends along the way, people I would never meet in regular day-to-day life, I'm sure, but it could be worth it, no? I mean, seriously, some of these people may be out right lunatics!! Others may have been burned so badly by so-called friends that they are kind of scared to put themselves out there, but they figure they could start by talking to strangers online because seriously, that's not real life. Just ask Phoenix--She'll tell you how much easier it is to talk to people online rather than in person. Well, she never has trouble talking to me in person, but seriously, she's way more shy in person than she was online. I think this could work! Seriously. I probably shouldn't have thrown my idea out here, huh? Ehh...Whatever.


Who're we kidding? I'm not going to do this. For one thing, I'd have to put myself out there. For another, I'd have to come up with creative names for all the people I met. And it would take time and I could get myself killed!! For all I know, I could meet a serial killer!! Hmm...Might still be fun though. Phoenix thinks that I should place an ad online to meet people...She said I could respond to the ads too, just not to the lesbian ones--only straight girls can be my friends apparently. I suppose that's my own fault because I pointed out that she had told me we could be "friends" when we first started talking and look where we are now. Hahaha!!


Hey, friend of mine who is moving in the next month or so, if you're reading this then you should take note. I'm sure they have Craig's List in Kentucky, so you can make friends there. Hahaha!!


On a side note, it's raining here again. I'm not sure how much more water AZ can hold, but I think we're almost at our limit...Also, I find it so amusing that my mom was complaining last night about how cold it was at her house, but I was here in my apartment, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and it was 78 degrees in here without the heater on. It's 52 out today, which isn't hot, but I have a window open and I ran errands in shorts and a polo earlier...I think I love AZ...Well, not in the summer, but this is nice. It's January and I can wear shorts. Does life get any better? *grins* Oh shut up. I know I still work at Walmart, so yes, life can get better. Just let me have my moment, you spoil sport! *shakes fist angrily*

They dared...

I had called Walmart's bluff about cutting my hours if I wasn't available 24/7, right? Well, apparently, they called my bluff. I said I was available from 6am-10pm, but said I needed Sundays and Mondays off. I want these days off so that I can be off with Phoenix...Plus, it makes it easier for us to take trips to California and such. Anyway, they posted the first "computerized" schedule and the computer seems to hate me as much as the two managers I deal with frequently. I have 16 hours. I work on Wednesday and Friday of the week after next. Nice, huh? I've decided that I'm going to storm the office and demand to talk to the store manager. I have a list of complaints and trust me, no one wants a disgruntled Heather. They are totally playing favorites and I'm not a favorite. I refuse to go down like this. Let's wait and see what happens next...


So, I know that in Cali it's been raining and such. Well, it rained here yesterday and it's supposed to rain for the rest of the week too. Last night it started raining at about 3:30pm or so and rained most of the night. I guess we got over an inch of rain. We are now the happy renters of a lakeside apartment. Here's a shot of our courtyard from the stairs outside our place:


Crazy, huh? Normally that's all grass, except the volleyball court, which is sand (or mud now). They're calling for another 4-9 inches of rain here. I don't even know what that much water will do to the city. Oh well. At least we live on the second floor; we'll be safe. *grins*


We went to see The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus the other day. It was pretty good. Phoenix said, "It was weird." But she said not in a bad way. I would agree it was a bit strange, but only because it was so surreal, which is what made it awesome. It was like a Salvador Dali picture come to life. The strangest part was realizing how much Heath Ledger looked like Johnny Depp. Go see the movie and you'll understand. I think this was Ledger's last picture...Anyway, it's worth it to go see it. It's about a man (Christopher Plummer) who makes a bet with the devil...And then keeps making bets. Don't people know you're not to deal with the devil??? Makes for a great movie. I have a question though--Why does the devil always smoke? In most movies, the devil smokes, be it a cigar or a cigarette, he's a smoker. Is it because smoking is bad and the devil is bad, so the two go hand-in-hand? Hmm...Whatever.

*crosses fingers*

First things first...Phoenix bought me a book for writers. It's a book of publishers, literary agents, writing contests, etc, etc, etc...It should be called, The Writer's Bible...Well, no, I suppose that would be the dictionary, but yeah. The book is awesome. A friend of mine had purchased it and told me about it. So, I'm hoping that I'll be able to find a way to get paid for writing...Wouldn't that be nice? Here's to hoping!!


Speaking of earning money, I have to work shortly. It probably wouldn't be so bad today, but I have the sort of pounding headache that makes me snappy and gives me the urge to bite people's heads off for no apparent reason. While driving Phoenix to work, I honked at some jackass who was blocking the fast lane. According to Phoenix, it was a woman, broken down, and calling for help on her cellphone. Whatever. If you're broken down, you should put on your hazards and if they don't work in the back (Only the hazards in the front were going), then stick an arm out the window and motion for people to drive around or something! Of course, to Phoenix, I was being "mean". Then I honked at some moron who cut me off! The van in front of him was going slow, so he cut in front of me with barely enough room for his piece of shit car to fit. I honked and flung up my hands at him. (I didn't flip him off like Phoenix thought I had.) As luck would have it, he works with Phoenix...Not with her, with her, but at the same place. *rolls eyes* Of course. I'm hoping that I have released most of my snappiness because I fear I'm going to freak out on a customer...Or a boss if the new schedule is posted and my hours are nonexistent. They've been threatening to cut them, so let's see what happens...I called their bluff and I fear they'll win.


What I hope for the most right now though, is not to win the lottery or anything like that, but for this headache to go away. After dropping Phoenix off at work, I was supposed to drop our Netflix in the mail. Well, I drove past the mailbox we normally use and then I thought, "Oh, I'll go to the post office down the road and drop it in." Well, the post office isn't there anymore. So, I decided to go to the post office I normally go to. I ended up about a mile past it before realizing I had driven the wrong way. My head hurts so badly that I cannot think clearly. I'm not sure it's a migraine, but it's damn close. I want to curl up with a pillow, a blanket, and go to sleep. Sleep will help. Instead though, I'll put on my work clothes and go take a bunch of bullshit from ghetto ass people.

OMG!

Yesterday afternoon when I got to work, I was greeted by about a dozen boxes sitting on one of the prep tables...These boxes contained things like salads, cookie dough, chicken tenders, and other random food items, all of which should've been refrigerated or frozen, not sitting on the table. I asked Smokey Jr. how long they'd been sitting out since it all seemed rather warm and she said, "Since about noon or so." That's when I called the manager over to see it and so I wouldn't get busted for such a large amount of food being tossed. Even the manager was like, "I don't even know what to do with so much stuff." I was instructed to put it on a cart and put it in the meat fridge in the back of the store for the store manager to take care of...Hmm...Let's hope he throws it all away.


During my journey of rectifying this situation, I had to walk through the store...I hate walking through the store because then I have to see the ghetto people who shop there. Don't get me wrong...We have fabulous deals and I don't blame most people for shopping there, but seriously, don't be so ghetto!! I saw a girl in pajama pants and slippers at 4 in the afternoon...Crazy. I saw dirty-faced children running around. There was a woman in spandex who had no business even know what spandex was, let alone wearing it.


The kicker came though when I passed by an aisle slowly (I had a grandma in front of me walking so slowly and refusing to get out of my way.)...I saw a man and presumably his wife shopping. Seems normal, huh? I might not have thought another second about them had the man not been pulling up his shirt from the bottom hem to reveal a beer belly covered in hair (or fur). I was like, "WTF?" in my head, of course. I can't say these things out loud. I looked back forward and grandma has stopped to look at the milk. Seriously, grandma? Do you not see me with the huge cart behind you? I look back at the furry man and see he is now blowing his nose into his shirt. No lie. I was horrified. WHO DOES THAT??? I mean, besides this guy...


I need out of there. These are not things I should see at work. I think it would've been less disgusting to see him blow his nose into his hand or blow a snot rocket onto the floor...No, all of that would've been gross too...We have a bathroom at work. He should've just used that. Blech!


Okay, I am off to see the wizard...Er, um, I mean, I am off to get the oil changed in our car and see a movie today!! WOO HOO!!

"Here's a Benadryl...Go back to work..."

Walmart cares about their employees...Please allow me to tell you about how much they care.


On Thursday, I was scheduled 12-6:30, but apparently Smokey felt that was wrong because when she saw me she asked, "What're you doing here? Who told you to come in?" I said, "It's what I was scheduled. You told me we had to go by the schedule, remember?" She didn't like that, but she was happy when I said I would stay later since only Tortilla was closing that night. (They screw up the schedule all the time!!) So, Tortilla comes in with her right thumb in wrapped in a splint because she slammed it in the car door. Nice, huh? They said she could still work though..*rolls eyes*


So, even though I'm allergic to Walmart's stupid dish soap, I decided to slip on the gloves they bought me that come up to my elbows and wash some dishes while Tortilla was on break to try to help out since it's hard to scrub dishes with a messed up thumb. As I scrubbed, I noticed my arms were itching and burning. I decided that it was probably all in my head because I knew the water would make me itch, but the gloves were dry inside and there was no reason for it. (My hands were in my regular food handler's gloves inside these gloves.) So, I kept washing. When Tortilla came back, I told her about my itching arms and we laughed about how it was in my head...Finally, I took off the left glove and you know what? It wasn't in my head! My arm was all red with bumps. I yanked off the right glove and it was worse!! Well, here, you can see for yourselves...






After a few moments of freaking out about my arms, I went on a trek through the store to find Smokey. She was up front talking to the customer service ladies. I waited for her to shut up for a moment so I could speak, but before I could even start saying something, one of the customer service women pointed at my arms, horrified, and said, "Look at her arms!" I then explained that I had been trying to help by doing the dishes and this is what happened when I used the gloves. Of course, Smokey had to ask the obvious, "Did you get water in the gloves?" I said I hadn't. She then said, "Well, you need Benadryl." We took a walk to the pharmacy part of the store and got a box of Benadryl. She opened it and started to hand me two, but I said, "Two will put me to sleep," so she gave me one. Of course, I had to buy a water to take it with, but I got the Benadryl tablet for free. *rolls eyes* Even though my arms were bright red, burning like fire, and itching as though I had just rolled around in some poison ivy, I was expected to get back to work. I worked for another almost two hours with my arms itching. Of course, the Benadryl helped, but it also made me a bit sleepy...WTF?


We see though how much Walmart cares for their employees...They'll give you drugs at work as long as it'll make you able to work. Yesterday when I got there, Smokey came to see me and asked how my arms were. I told her they were still a little itchy, but getting better. She said, "Oh good. I was afraid you'd call out because of them." I just shook my head and walked off. They care not at all for our well-being--They care only that we are still able to work. Also, let this be a lesson that no good deed goes unpunished...I was only doing the dishes to help, but it came back to bite me in the ass.

Dear Fellow Americans...

Dear Fellow Americans,

If you refuse to pull your heads out of your rears, I will be forced to take action...And by action, I mean that you should expect to see me running around bashing people upside the head with a nine iron. *grins* Seriously.

Sincerely,

The White Spy


All joking aside, I am so over the bullshit that people pull all the time. I'm done with it. I want no part in the drama. (Save it for your mama.) I have never been much for ass kissing and I don't expect to change in the near future. I do not take being talked down to lightly; I may not say it then, but eventually, I'll exact my revenge. Just because I work at Walmart, does not mean I am a personal slave to whatever white-trash, welfare receiving, fourteen baby-daddy, crack-dealing biotch that walks in the door. (I am also not slaves to their baby-daddies/boyfriends/dads/brothers either.) And because I am who I am, I am going to lose my damn mind soon...Allow me to explain...


I hate when people act like they can talk down to me. The one manager, umm...We'll call him Asia, not because he's Asian or anything *shifty eyes*, but for the lack of a better term. Anyway, so Asia thinks it's all right to talk down to me and to act like a complete ass monkey for the hell of it. Yesterday, he felt it was acceptable to pull me aside and tell me that the way I put labels on the products really "pisses" him off and that it's wrong. When I pointed out that no one had ever shown me how to put the labels on the bakery items, which I am not responsible for cooking, frosting, and boxing up (even though I frost them and box them constantly lately since our bakery girls have their heads up their asses all the time), he blew me off by saying, "Then don't do it!" I then said, "But you said that everything made each day needs to be labeled. So, if they're here and not done when I'm closing, I have to do it!" He didn't like this and I apparently only pissed him off some more. Whatever. I listened to him go on and on and on and on *yawn* and on. And it took me four times of asking before he finally showed me his way of putting labels on. *rolls eyes* Today when I went in, he was happy to see me because he knew I would get stuff done, even though he seems to think I'm incompetent. To be a bitch, I worked slowly today and double checked all of my labels with him. This didn't make him happy in the least, but he had nothing to bitch about...for once.


At my work, it has come to my attention, and to Tortilla's too, that the new girl, Smokey Jr., used to date the manager Smokey's grandson. And the grandson is trying to get back with Smokey Jr. even though she has a man. *rolls eyes* Apparently, this is how she got her job. I'm also wondering if it's her connections that have lead her to have my hours and, in the next couple of weeks when they start using a computer to "create the schedules" (I think the managers are full of shit, but whatever...), she'll totally have around 30 hours and I'll have 16. I would like to take Smokey Jr. and snap her bony little body over my knee. It's complete crap that she should get preferential treatment. I was told today that if I want more hours, I'd better be available 24/7. Umm...No. In fact, HELL NO! It's not fair. I know, life isn't fair, but this isn't the way it's supposed to be in a workplace. And the store manager seems to be in on it since it was him who told me about the cut in my hours and that I should be available all the time...*grits teeth*


Recently, I've realized that we have customers who come along and make us work, even though they have no real need of deli meat and probably won't even purchase it. I had a customer do that today...He came in and got a pound of turkey, half a pound of roast beef, three-quarters a pound of black forest ham, a pound of shaved Genoa Salami, two pounds of white American cheese sliced very, very thin, a half pound of baby Swiss, and four thick slices of Provolone cheese. Seriously, it was a lot of crap. Thirty minutes after I had done it all, Cart-boy came along and brought a bag of the deli meats and such I had cut. He said, "The guy didn't have enough, so he decided not to get this." WTF!? Are you kidding me? Jackass Asia is screaming at us daily about waste and now we have to throw all this away? Luckily, Asia was there to hear that the guy didn't want it, but then he had the balls to look at me and ask, "Did you cut this for him?" I said, "Yeah. Unfortunately, I didn't ask him how much money he had before I sliced it all." Asia actually laughed and said, "People suck" before going back to his paperwork. Why in the hell did the man waste my time? He was such an ass monkey too, in the first place, because he kept giving me a hard time about how he wanted everything cut and how he had never seen me before. I explained that I worked nights and he said, "Oh. Well. Why would they have you here in the daytime?" When I said that I didn't know, he said he didn't know either. WTF ever. I'm sure he was thinking he was insulting me, but really, how pathetic does one's life have to be to get off on insulting the deli girl?


The customer that took the cake today was the woman who, as I was walking out of the deli to go on my fifteen minute break, yelled, "Hey, hey you!" as she snapped her fingers at me. When I looked over at her over the case of cakes that separates part of the "bakery" from the customers, I asked, "Yeah?" She asked, "Do you work back here or what?" It took everything in me not to reply, "Or what" and walk off. Instead, I said, "Yes, ma'am. Did you need something?" (We don't typically help people there since it's not the counter...And because there was a line at the deli and this woman was obviously trying to avoid waiting. She said, "Yeah, I thought so and you were just going to ignore me." I said, "No, I was going on my break and there are two other people working back here. I've been here all day and I'd like to sit down for a moment. But I can wait. How can I help you?" She rolled her eyes and said, "Get me a loaf of hot French Bread." I got her the bread and I refrained from dropping it on the ground, smashing it, or otherwise harming it before handing it over...I'm not going to say the thought to screw up her bread didn't cross my mind, but I didn't do anything. I gave it to her and said, "Here you go. Have a great night." She walked off talking shit about how I can go sit on my ass now...Where do people get off acting like this? I'm over it. People need not act like that.


So, if I end up fired (or when I end up fired, rather), do not be surprised...And let's all just hope it's because I finally told off one of the bastards who thinks it's okay to tell me how to do my job...Or perhaps a manager. I'm so over my job.

I'm surrounded by idiots!!

Most would think that to work at Walmart (of any kind, be it a super center, market, etc), you need not be the "brightest crayon in the box", right? Well, this is proved nearly daily when I go in to work...


Yesterday, I went on my fifteen minute break at almost 6pm because it had been pretty busy in the deli, plus the one manager had piled on a bunch of extra work I was trying to plow through. Anyway, I bought a Sprite and went to sit outside where the cool kids, er, um, I mean where the smokers hang out. Mostly, I sit out there because I hate that the break room is right next to the managers' offices. I don't want to be near those bastards when I'm "relaxing". Well, yesterday, the manager, Smokey, was out there along with the cart-boy. (The one who's messing around with the other assistant manager.) They were out there chatting about some nonsense when I sat down. As I sat there, Cart-Boy starts reading off headlines from the news from his phone (He wasn't even on a damn break!! He was supposed to be getting carts, but he can't seem to handle that!) and he says something about some terrorist. Then I had to listen to the two of them discuss terrorism. Smokey--"I just don't get how people act like that. I mean, why would people do that?" Seriously, lady? I think we all know why they do it--Ridiculous religious beliefs. (Sorry, but I think I would pass on being a part of a religion that required me to kill myself for the "greater good". I'm good being a heathen.) I kept quiet though because I knew I couldn't add anything to their conversation that they would understand. Then Cart-Boy says, "Oh look. It's still snowing in Florida." I then said it's crazy how cold it is down south. Smokey (who apparently cannot keep her mouth shut) said, "I heard about that. And here we have that guy, what's his name? Al Gore?" I calmly swallowed my mouthful of soda before asking what he had to do with the conversation. She said, "He was trying to get everyone to believe in that stuff...What was it called? Something about the hot earth. Saying that we are hurting the air." (Phoenix will tell you I'm some sort of snob when it comes to intelligence because I don't deal well with people who aren't as smart as me. That's not true...I just happen to value intelligence and I cannot stand stupidity. If you don't know what the fuck you're talking about and you're a bad bullshitter, then shut up!) I then put in, "You mean Global Warming?" She said, "YES! He's so full of crap! If the earth was hotter, then why on earth has it been so cold in parts of the country." I started, "No, it's true. All the pollution is destroying the atmosphere, which is causing problems. Like the ice caps are melting and because of that, things are getting screwed up. Not to mention that the slightest changes in one area, greatly affect weather in other areas." (C'mon, everyone knows the Butterfly Effect.) It was at this point in time that I realized I was arguing with idiots because they both jumped all over me. "No, Heather," Smokey says, "The ice caps melt all the time. It's normal. They'll come back." Cart-Boy said, "Yeah, Heather. Didn't you learn about that in science in high school?" I started to open my mouth again, but realized it wasn't worth it. Instead, I listened to them say that the amount of pollution in the air doesn't hurt anything and that Al Gore and other people who are encouraging a greener environment are crazy. *starts to drool as eyes glaze over and I begin to babble incoherently*


Smokey finally walked off to go back to work, leaving me with Cart-Boy. (I'm not sure what this other manager sees in him...He's as dumb as a box of rocks.) Cart-Boy then says, "Lamborghinis are my favorite cars. Look, I have a picture on my phone." He did indeed have a picture of a red Lamborghini on his phone. I simply said, "Oh. Those are nice cars." I called my break over five minutes early because I couldn't stand sitting there any longer.


Sadly enough, the cake was taken by a cashier who I think is nice when I was coming back from my dinner break and I walking back in the store with my cup of coffee from QT. (I'm not really a coffee drinker, but I hate hot tea and the hot liquid felt fabulous on my sore throat.) "Hey Heather! Got coffee there?" she asked, pointing to my Styrofoam-type cup (I know--I'm not helping the environment, but I don't have a travel coffee cup!). I replied, "Nope. It's my White Russian, but I had to hide it since they don't allow me to drink on the job!" *rolls eyes* Not really. I simply nodded and walked away before I handed her a sign that read, "Idiot" to wear around her neck...


I don't know how much longer I can stand working there...They are killing me and my will to live.

I'm back!!

I know, you've all missed me, right? Just nod and smile so I feel better. *grins* Sorry for the hiatus, but life has been hectic, what with the holidays and everything else. Plus, I just haven't been in the mood to write. I'm not sure if it's because my book was rejected (although I suspect that's part of it) or if it's just because there are so many things on my mind, but I just don't feel the need to sit down and write...Even when I have fabulous ideas, I still can't sit down and write. It sucks. But that's neither here nor there...Let's just delve in to the reason I'm writing now. Ghetto people. Yes, that's right. I have seen things lately that have made me take a double take and still say, "Wait, are you serious?" Let's start with the one I saw on Monday...


On Monday, Phoenix and I spent the day together. We also had Noble Tuesday (Now on Mondays, but "Noble Monday" sounds weird...), but until then, we decided to go see a movie (It's Complicated, to be exact. Not a bad flick. I love Steve Martin.) and then to take care of a few errands. Anyway, I won't waste my breath on talking about the complete and utter jackass who almost hit us as we left our apartment because he decided to change lanes into the fast lane (the lane I was in) to go around a stopped bus. Seriously, jackass, you were the moron who got in the lane behind the bus coming up to a bus stop!! My personal favorite part of this entire experience is that I honked to warn the dude I was there and still he came over! But I won't waste your time with that story...I should start a website called JackassDrivers.com and then people can submit license plate pics and people's pictures so we know who to look out for. I'm just saying...*shifty eyes* Anyway, so one of the places we went to after the movie was Verizon. I hate the Verizon store. No, like really hate. Like in the same way I hate jackass drivers who almost crash into me simply because I was in the same square mile as them. Or as much as I hate my job at Walmart Neighborhood Market (which is a lot). Anyway, I said, "They look busy." Phoenix takes my phone ("Stop thief!") and hops out of the car to go in. So, I parked and followed. I asked her if any more people could've fit in the store because the place was packed. She said that yes, a lot more people could fit. I don't know why she has to answer my sarcastic rhetorical questions. *rolls eyes* So, I look around at all the phones I would not be getting while we wait to ask the morons there if they can please make my phone work like a normal phone. See, it's still doing the same thing of taking a decade to open text messages and not really hanging up my calls. God forbid I ever need to hang up and try to make a call to 911 or something else right away because it's just not going to happen on my phone. Let's say, for the sake of description, that the average phone now-a-days is like the iPhone, okay? My phone, compared to that, would be like an old rotary phone...Like this kind of phone:

Don't laugh. It's true. So, after looking around, I sat down to wait. There were like four people in front of us in line and the computers were slow, so it was going to be a while. Suddenly, Phoenix asks me if I saw the woman on the phone. I said, "No." She then points out a lady on one of the display phones, yelling at someone. Don't believe me? Well, I made Phoenix take a picture, just to prove to you that I am not a liar.

So, I ask, how ghetto do you have to be to use a phone, at a phone store, to call someone? Phoenix suggested that whoever she was talking to might not accept her calls from her number, which may be true...Still, it was seriously ghetto!!


Speaking of ghetto, I saw one of my bosses at the Verizon store. Apparently, the shaved head, older guy she was with was her fiance. Ew. *gags* She was there with two women too, who were her mom and sister. Anyway, I didn't say hello because I wasn't 100% sure it was her and she didn't say anything either. The sad thing was that I had the overwhelming urge to ask, "Who's this guy? I thought you were with (insert cart-boy's name from work she's screwing on the side here)." My good buddy from work, Tortilla, thinks my boss would then find a reason to fire me, but I think it would've been worth it...*giggles wildly* Oh yeah, we ended up leaving before they called our name. We were there for like 30 minutes and only one other person had been helped, so we said screw it. Unfortunately, this only means I'll have to go back again...BAH!


Speaking of work and ghetto people...So, yesterday I went to work even though I would've preferred to stay home and let my head just explode, which I'm like 99% sure it's going to. (Really, how can a cold/sinus infection made my head hurt so badly???) But, I'm a trooper and I went in. Of course, I saw my boss from the Verizon store and confirmed it was her. That's not the point though...I was busily bagging bread or something when I heard some people up by the deli counter and since Tortilla was busily making sandwiches, I went to check. There was a woman with a cart full of children and a man. The woman was looking at stuff, but not buying. The man was struggling with something near the hot case. I was like, "What's he doing?" so I moved closer to see. I ask the woman if I can help her even though I'm trying to figure out what the hell the man is going because it looked to me like he was trying to open a container of something. She says, "No, I'm just looking." I then ask the guy, "Can I help you with something?" And I'm sure that my voice was dripping with sarcasm at this point in time because I was finally close enough to see that he was opening up the container of the 8-piece fried chicken. WTF? Who opens the chicken? Well, obviously this guy, but who else!? He says, "No." I then asked what he was doing because he's like counting the pieces of chicken. He then holds up the chicken to me and asks, "Is that a thigh or a breast? I can't tell which it is! What is it?" I say, "I'm not sure. Let me see the container." I then use tongs to shift the chicken and show him that it's a breast, a small breast, but a breast nonetheless. He growls at me about how last time he was in he bought chicken and was gyp-ed because he got three thighs and a breast, not two and two like it's supposed to be. I was temped to ask him where on the package it says that because it says, "8-piece Fried Chicken", but I didn't say a word. He said he would not be screwed over again. Nothing I said made him happy though. And looking back on the whole scene, I think that even though I had confirmed that it was two and two, I think he switched the open fried chicken for another container of it. I also wonder if he had opened the other ones before I came out from the back. Who opens containers though!? It's freakin' disgusting!! I mean, I remember my mom buying the boxes of the Banquet Fried Chicken (I don't know why she never made homemade fried chicken...weird...) from the store and sometimes we would get this weird piece of chicken that wasn't anything recognizable and she and I would joke that it was like a rat or something else equally gross...Of course, this is the piece I would serve to my brother (JUST KIDDING!). Still, even though this often happened and it never failed, when this weird piece was in there, something else would be missing (a thigh, a breast, a drumstick, etc), my mom never took it upon herself to first open the box at the store to lay out the pieces of chicken to count them and make sure they were all there!! However, if she did do that, it would go something like this, "Heather, open the box and tell me what's in there." And, being the obedient, well-behaved, adorable child I was *grins innocently*, I would've opened the box and showed her all the pieces inside. But we didn't do that because, whereas we might've been rather poor, we weren't GHETTO WHITE TRASH! People are disgusting!


This also reminds me of a story of Phoenix and I at Fry's Food Market...I had bought a container of sour cream one night because we were having tacos or something else that required sour cream. Well, when I got home and opened it, it was liquid. I mean, it was so gross. So, we took it back to exchange it the next day. When we went back, I grabbed one and Phoenix said, "Wait" and proceeded to open it to make sure it was okay. It was close enough in time that had it come from a bad shipment, we could still end up with bad sour cream, you know? (That seems like a double negative, huh? Bad sour cream....Could we call that "soured sour cream"....lol) Anyway, she opened the lid and then peeled back the safety thing and declared it good sour cream. Meanwhile, an older gentleman saw this and stood by horrified before angrily telling her, "You can't open that!" Of course, my normally quiet girlfriend took this time to not be quiet and she proceeded to argue with him. It was rather amusing. Whereas some might not see the difference, there is one...I had spoiled sour cream and wanted to make sure I wasn't getting it again. I put that one in the cart and didn't exchange it for one not opened...lol Phoenix and I are not White trash...Well, obviously she's not, but whatever...You know what I mean...*shifty eyes*


So, yeah...People are ghetto. You know what I've realized though? That guy bitched because he got an extra thigh but was shorted a breast, but I'll guarantee that he wouldn't complain if he got an extra breast or 9 pieces instead of 8. There are tons of times where I'll put together 8-pieces at the end of the night and come up with extra pieces because people buy some of the other fried chicken, so I'll throw in extra pieces, just to sell it, you know? No one ever comes back and says, "Hey! I got a 10 piece instead of 8!! I want to pay the difference!" Nope, but they'll bitch every time they get shorted somehow. *rolls eyes* Oh well...I must go rest now. I think that from all the stress of the holidays and everything else, I wore myself out and now I am sick with some sort of cold/sinus infection. My nose won't stop running...And I'm so tired that I don't even want to chase it anymore. *rolls eyes at lame joke* Peace out, folks. I'll blog again soon, hopefully...