"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...

I should be fired...

I have a funny story for you all (Am I suddenly from the south??? "Y'all"...Weird.). On Friday I had to close at work, as usual, but this time I was working with the woman who normally only works Saturday and Sunday. However, we were able to get her to come in so that I was not alone. Anyway, so, we're working and it was crazy busy all night long. I was trying to get a bunch of stuff done before I went on my break because I hate coming back from my break with a list of things to do, you know? So, before going on my break, I decided that the last thing I would do is clean the rotisserie oven. Little did I know that I should've skipped cleaning it and just gone on break.


To clean the oven, we are supposed to spray it with this chemical that cleans as it heats up (sort of like oven cleaner, but better). In the end, you simply wipe the stuff off. At some point in time, some genius found that if you take the hose (Yes, I said "hose".) and spray the inside of the oven, you barely have to scrub at all...And sometimes not at all, you know, if you're cool like that. This is NOT the way we are supposed to clean it though. You are supposed to turn on the water that flows into the oven (There's like a little valve you turn and water comes into the oven that can be drained out of it through the drain in the middle of it.) and use that water to wipe off everything in it. Personally, I've never done it this way because I was taught how to do it with the hose and who's going to choose the hard way over the way that takes less than five minutes? The only catch is, you cannot be seen by a manager doing this because it's a big no-no...


So, on Friday night I looked around and didn't see the manager on duty. I assumed she was up front throwing her weight around. Smokey has been on a rampage lately and I wasn't in the mood to deal with her. Since she wasn't around, I saw my opportunity to spray out the oven. I grabbed the hose, sprayed it out quickly, then squeegeed the floor so there was no evidence of my using the hose. Just as I turned around to put the squeegee away, Smokey was there, looking around in the deli. I was like, "WTF?" Of course, I didn't say that, but I asked, "Are you looking for something? Can I help you?" She NEVER EVER comes into the deli! She always stays on the outside of the deli to talk to us. She said, "I'm looking for the fire. The fire alarm is going off." Immediately I knew that all the steam from the oven had set off the alarm. It was colder than usual and way more steam had come out when I sprayed it. I remained calm and said, "There's no fire." My co-worker's eyes were about to pop out of her head as she looked at me like, "OMG! YOU SET IT OFF!" Luckily, she didn't tell on me. Smokey searched all through the deli and when she left, I looked to the other girl and said, "Oh man. I hope they don't back up the tapes on the cameras and see me hosing it down." She laughed. No one said anything about it and I haven't been written up and fired yet, so that's good. But it gets worse...


I bought a soda on my way out to my car after this incident and as I'm at the registers, I see some of the customer service girls looking around, trying to figure out what was on fire. I was tempted to tell them that there was no fire, but I wasn't going to blow my cover. Instead, I got out of the store quickly. Once outside, I saw Smokey on her phone. She was saying, "No, there's no fire. I looked all over. I think the girls are baking bread in the bakery. Maybe that set it off. They've been baking a lot today. And we need to clean that oven because I think it might've been smoking." Really? That's all she came up with? Lame...


So, yeah...That's my story. I set off the fire alarm at my work by taking a short cut and then didn't help anyone out by telling them it was me. Smokey had everyone in the store on the lookout for a fire...Honestly, it was like a huge prank that I didn't even plan out, which is probably why it worked so well...HA! Take that Walmart!


In other news, on Saturday I got my first customer compliments...I know, I was shocked too. *grins* Seriously though. They told the manager about me, which I thought was cool...Especially since it was Smokey who isn't my biggest fan. And of course, this was the day after they thought the store was burning down. The first woman, a caterer, came in and got so much deli meat that it was ridiculous! I sliced meat for almost thirty minutes for her. At the end, she asked my name and told me I was great and so quick. (She got like 10 different meats and cheeses, plus tried a few others to see if she liked them.) Smokey came over a few minutes after the woman left and said, "Heather, I got a customer compliment about you. She said you were great! I like to hear that. Thank you." I thanked her. A few minutes after that a man came in who's very picky about his deli meat. I got it for him and he said, "You're Heather, right?" I said, "Yes, sir." He said, "You are the best girl back there. You're always fast and accurate. You never mess up my order. I appreciate that." He asked who he should tell because my boss needed to know how great I am. I told him to tell Smokey. He did too! Two customer compliments in one day! I didn't know what to do with myself!


Of course, a couple of hours after this, I was about to get my first customer complaint because I was going to start killing the customers! I had a few trashy customers in a row who thought it was okay to yell at me and touch the glass! DON'T TOUCH THE GLASS, FUCKER! There is no reason to point to what you want or to run your fingers over the glass as you talk to me! Especially not at the hot case and don't you dare tell me, "OH! That's hot! Why didn't you tell me that?" Duh, fucker. It's a "hot case" and it says, "Caution: Hot" on it. What more do you want? A flashing sign? *rolls eyes* People are idiots. Just before I took my lunch break on Saturday night I was about to murder these three guys who came in. There were all...umm...I don't even know. They would've been at home running a 7-11 though. I know, I'm racist. Anyway, they were looking for some meat and cheese we no longer have. When I explained we don't have it, the one guy got an attitude. Yeah, I stopped carrying it just to piss you off, jackass. Don't flatter yourself. He then wanted to sample three different types of turkey, but ended up getting two pounds of hard salami thinly sliced. Do you know how many slices that is? A LOT! I hate cutting salami!! It's like a hundred slices to a pound or something. Seriously. It's a lot. So, I get him his freakin' salami. Then he asks for some roast beef. Of course, I had to open a new roast beef, which means blood all over! Yes, when you open the packages of the roast beef there is always blood because the stuff is medium rare. When I cut it open, blood flew onto my face, my shirt, and to the floor. I was pissed. (And I'd been on my feet for close to five hours by this point in time...I was tired.) I sliced the moo-ing roast beef and handed it to him. I asked, "Anything else?" He then turns to the other guys and asks, "Anything else?" The guys then start talking about what else they need at the store. I don't give a flying rat's butt if you need Ex-lax and Coca-Cola (No, this isn't what they were saying although it could've been because it was hard to understand them with their accents.). Finally, one guy says, "Maybe some cheese." Oh goody. Let me get you something else and prolong my break a little longer. I asked, "What kind of cheese?" They asked, "What kind do you have?" Are you kidding me!? There's a whole fucking display right there in front you! Seriously, they were standing right there in front of the cheeses. I said, "It's ALL right here." The one guy asked, "Are we bothering you?" I said, "No, but the cheese is right here." The first guy then puts his hands on the glass and starts rubbing his finger back and forth as he asks me which cheese is which. You know, if you can't read, then bring someone with you who can because I'm on the opposite side of the glass and I have no clue what you're pointing to and all I keep thinking is, "Great! Now I have to clean that glass too!" He says, "I want the yellow cheese." Yellow cheese? Does he mean American or cheddar? I ask him and he says, "No, the other one." Okay, the Colby cheese. I pull it out and the other guy says, "No, the yellow and white one." Is it too hard to say Colby Jack??? BAH! I open the Colby Jack and am about to slice it when the guy says, "Never mind. They have it sliced our here. We don't want to bother you anymore since obviously it's a problem to serve us." I considered chucking the block of cheese at those three woman-hating fuckers, but decided it wasn't worth it. And no, it wasn't a problem to serve them...It's a problem to serve people who waste my time with indecision. You don't see me going to the deli and asking to sample the pastrami, roast beef, and salami only to then say, "I just want a quarter pound of Swiss cheese." BAH!


Okay, enough bitching for now...Watch for my next blog about my first NFL game. Oh yeah...The Cardinals versus the Vikings. Awesome game!!

Misery loves company...

I've been told so many times before that "misery loves company" and similar things, but I'm so over it. Seriously. My boss, Smokey, is so freakin' miserable and she tries to spread it to everyone and anyone around her. Look, it's not my fault that her life blows, but I don't her breathing down my neck watching everything I do and being a bitch to me when it suits her. I'm done with it. She hates me oh-so-much because I refuse to be her bitch. Yeah, Phoenix hates that I don't go running into work every time they call me, but seriously, this isn't my career; I don't want to be there...at all. I get talked down to all the time and Smokey's a crazy bitch. Why would I want to be there? Allow me to explain a bit...


Okay, so like two weeks ago I picked up a Sunday shift to help out a coworker, right? No one had a problem with that. Then, this past Sunday, they called me to ask me to work on Monday, which was my day off with Phoenix. I said, "Yeah, okay" only because I knew if I did it, then they'd get someone to come in for Friday night (tonight) with me because they only scheduled me to work. I'm also giving up my Saturday off to cover for another co-worker because she wants to take her son to a birthday party. All of this seems to work for Smokey. I then said, "Hey, can I have Tortilla cover my Sunday? I have tickets to the Cardinals and Vikings game and I can't miss it." She got all kinds of pissed off about us needing to follow the schedule, blah, blah, blah. She straight out said, "From now on, you guys need to follow the schedule as it's written. I'm tired of crossing things out and initialling it. I never know who's coming in or what's going on!" *rolls eyes* Oh, okay. So, it's okay for me to come in on Saturday, even though it's my day off to cover for this coworker, but it's not okay for Tortilla to cover for me. I told Smokey that I figured it was easier to have Tortilla cover me instead of calling in...This only seemed to piss her off more. I explained that I bought the tickets when I was getting Sundays off, which is why I didn't think it'd be a problem. She said, "I don't know what to tell you." Fuck that bitch! That's what I have to say about it. I'm so over her being a bitch to me because I refuse to bend to her every whim. She's going to wear herself out trying to make me submissive to her. I can give her a list of previous bosses who have tried and failed...And yes, that list includes my mother who also couldn't make me do stuff I didn't want to...


As for the other miserable sons of bitches that talk down to me on a daily basis, well...Let me give you a few examples of situations I deal with...


The Price is Wrong Man- So, this guy comes in last night and asks for 1/2 pound of white American cheese, a 1/2 pound of yellow American cheese, and a 1/4 pound of yellow American cheese bagged separately. I asked for clarification because I didn't know if he meant 3/4 of a pound of yellow cheese with 1/4 pound bagged or if he meant split the 1/2 pound, you know? And I'm learning not to assume anything!! So, he gets this pissed off look on his face and asks, "Did I NOT make myself clear?" No, mo-fo, you didn't, which is why I'm asking again! He then repeats it exactly the same way again. I said, "Fine. Got it. I'm all over it." (I know, I shouldn't get an attitude, but really, he was an ass monkey.) I get him his cheese, which apparently pisses him off more and more as I go through the routine of cutting and bagging it. Then he starts to walk off, but then notices the price on the cheese. He comes back and interrupts me helping someone else and says, "EXCUSE ME!" I was all, "Yes, sir?" He then laid into me that the cheese is advertised as $4.98 and I rang it up for $5.48. I said, "I'm sorry, but it's in the computer like that. I can't change it. If you go to customer service, I'm sure they can fix it." The entire time I was talking, he kept talking over me acting as though I'm some kind of idiot who can't handle my job. I DON'T SET THE PRICES! I DON'T HAVE ANY CONTROL OVER THE COMPUTER! The woman whom I was helping before he interrupted said, "I used to work at Hallmark and I never understood why people got angry at the card lady." She's right. Don't get mad at the card lady...Or the deli girl...


I'm more important than her woman-- At like 5:30 last night Tortilla went on a fifteen minute break, which I swear was more like an hour *rolls eyes*, and the deli got so busy with customers. It was crazy. Anyway, so I was helping this woman and she says, "I also need to order a sub for Saturday." Since she was the last in line, I said, "Sure." I then stepped off to the side to take the order. As I'm filling in her information, this other woman walks up with her dirty child and starts looking at the hot case, which is all the way at the other side from where I was. She then rings the bell, even as I was calling out, "I'll be right with you." I hate the freaking bell! She rolls her eyes and sighs loudly. I was almost done with the order when she comes charging over to me with her cart and asks very angrily, "Are you the ONLY one here? Isn't there someone working here?" It took everything in me not to tell her to *censored, beeeeeeeeeeeep*. Instead, I took a deep breath and said, "The other girl is on break. I'll be right with you." She said, "Look, I just need macaroni and cheese for my daughter." I said, "Okay, I'll be right there. Let me finish this order." She opened her mouth and was probably about to cuss me out right then and there, but the woman I was helping cut her off and said, "You know what? I'm not in a hurry. Go ahead and get her taken care of." I looked at her and said, "Thanks." I went to the hot case and started to scoop up some macaroni and cheese, but the angry woman stops me and says, "Wait. How long has that been out? It looks like it's been there all day." I said, "No, ma'am, I just put out the rest of what we had a little over an hour ago." She rolled her eyes at me again and says, "I don't want it then. I can't feed that to my daughter! It looks horrible! I'll take popcorn chicken." I said, "Okay." I started to scoop up the chicken, but then she stops me again. "Wait. Would I get a discount for buying the macaroni and cheese since it's old? I mean, you could mark it down, right?" I said, "No. I don't set the prices." She said, "Fine then. Just the chicken." Let me get this straight...She wouldn't feed her daughter regular priced old mac and cheese, but she'd feed her discounted old mac and cheese? I'm so confused. What gets me though is this-- What makes this woman more important than anyone else? It was complete bullshit. When I told Tortilla about it, she knew who I was talking about, which tells me that she's like this all the time!


You're my bitch woman-- So, the deli was busy for a while yesterday and for a little while, Tortilla and I were both up front helping customers. During this time, a woman came up and asked me to sample some grilled veggies we have. I said, "Yeah, okay." I'm not sure why you'd want to sample something you're supposed to heat up, but whatever. So, I give her a piece of the eggplant, which is what she wanted. She tasted it and said, "Oh no, this is horrible. I don't want this." Yet, she still ate the entire piece of eggplant, which was a huge piece. She walked all through the deli area asking me random questions about everything we have. "What kind of cheese do you have?" I pointed out the cheese section in the case and answered ridiculous questions about the cheese. Then she asked for two thin slices of some Swiss cheese. I had to open a new cheese, so I was trying to do that, but then she asked about the prices on the cheeses, which I don't know because we don't have anything that tells the prices except the computer, so I have to look them all up. I then started looking prices up for her, but then she asks, "Aren't you getting me the cheese?" I said, "Ma'am, there's nothing back here that tells me the prices. If you ask me, then I have to stop and look in the computer. They're all right there in front of the case." I opened the door on my side and put my hand through the case to point to the prices. She said, "I see them, but I want to compare them to the already sliced cheese out here." I don't know what the hell the prices are on the already sliced cheeses! Tortilla asked me, "What cheese does she want?" I told her what the woman wanted and she sliced the cheese so I could be pestered by this woman some more. I then weighed the cheese and put it in a bag. She asked, "How many ounces is that?" I said, "It's a tenth of a pound." She said, "Well, what is that in ounces." Apparently, she was testing my knowledge of ridiculous things. I said, "What, like 1.6 ounces?" She said, "That sounds good. I'll take that then. Oh! Do you have liverwurst? I would love an ounce of liverwurst." I said, "If we do, it's over there with the pre-cut meats." and pointed to the wall with the crappy meats. She said, "Oh. How about..." She trailed off and started looking at something else. Seriously, I was about to beat my own brains in. I once saw this episode of the X-Files where this woman was being controlled by her daughter (like telepathically) and the daughter made her bash her skull in with a hammer...If I'd had a hammer, I might've done just that. Really, it couldn't have made my head hurt anymore than that demanding bitch who apparently couldn't read what was right in front of her face!


I want a whole chicken man-- Yesterday, as I was cooking more foods for the hot case, a man came up and stood looking at the rotisserie chickens and fried chicken. I asked him, "Can I help you with anything?" He said, "I need a..." and mumbled something as he leaned down more to look at the chickens. I said, "Okay, well, if you need help, just holler." As I stood at the fryer, talking to Tortilla who was prepping the disgusting raw chickens for the rotisserie, the man continued to stand at the hot case. I stepped closer to him again and asked, "Are you sure there's nothing I can help you with?" I mean, most people don't stand looking at chickens for a few minutes, you know? He says, "I need a whole chicken." I said, "They're right there" and pointed. He said, "I know. I need one. Get it for me." According to Tortilla, I sounded impatient with the man but it's only because HE'S A COMPLETE IDIOT! I said, "Sir, they're down there. You help yourself to whatever you want down there." He said, "No there's glass--Wait, I thought there was glass there. Weird." He grabbed a chicken and walked off. Apparently he thought there was a barrier of glass blocking him. I wanted to ask, in addition to seeing imaginary glass walls, if he also sees dead people...


These are only a few of the customers I have to deal with each day...They test my patience and anyone who knows me knows I have even less than Job. I'm so over working there. I deserve better. And I shouldn't be treated like a moron because these people don't know what the hell they're doing or want! Speaking of my hellish job, I need to go get ready...Woo hoo! Another night in hell!! Someone shoot me, please...Like in the foot or something...I don't want to die...

I've pretty much sealed my fate...

I'm going to end up spending an eternity in hell. No, it's not for being gay. Or for shaking my fist angrily at the sky whenever life gets to me. It's not even for making jokes about the Big Guy from time to time...No, it's going to be for lying to the "What kind of vessel are you?" guy. Yup, he came back to my work again. I know that it takes all kinds of people to make the world go 'round, but really some people are just so out there. Let me tell you how it went...


I was already cursing the universe on Saturday night because on Friday night I had washed the car via a drive-thru car wash because it had been *mumbles* months since the last time we'd washed the car. *rolls eyes* Fine! It's been like 4 months or more since we last washed it. Seriously, I cannot remember when it was last done, but it looked gray and not white. Anyway, it looked AWESOME after the wash. I had checked the weather report earlier and saw there was a 10% chance of rain for the weekend. We'd had a 30% chance of rain weeks before and got nothing! So, I washed the car. Apparently, by getting the car washed, I added enough humidity to the atmosphere to cause it to rain on Saturday night! Stupid rain!! I only realized it was raining because people were coming into my work with umbrellas and shaking them off onto the concrete floor. I was sitting in the deli, taking bets on how long it would be before someone came in and slipped to their death...lol Okay, not really. I was busy working, but I saw the morons shaking out their umbrellas on the floor. Who does that? But I digress...I was working with this lady, we'll call her Lupita, whom I had never worked with before. She only works on the weekends and I've just never worked with her. I've met her before and she's really nice, but yeah...So, I had to get used to working with her. She's a great worker, but we don't have a routine, you know? She was washing dishes while I was bagging bread when some guy asks, "Do you have any more pizzas?" (The Walmart take and bake pizzas are right by the deli.) I have no clue about the pizzas because they're not part of my job, you know? So, I tell him, "Nope. Whatever's out there is all we have." He says, "Oh. That sucks." I said, "Sorry, sir." I then looked at him and he finally turned to face me and I saw it was Vessel Man! AAAAAGGGGHHHHH!! I resisted looking up to the sky and shaking my fist as I yelled, "Curses to you too!" Instead, I smiled and tried to go back to bagging bread, but he said, "Have you tried these pizzas? The supreme is good." I said, "Nope." I wouldn't eat the supreme anyway. Onions and bell peppers don't belong on my pizza!! He said, "You should try them. By the way, how are you?" I said, "I'm fine." He said, "Well that's good. Have I asked you what kind of vessel you are?" I said, "Yup. We've had that conversation." To which he replied, "It's so hard to keep track of all the people I talk to. Have you considered what I told you?" I don't know what he told me that night because I was screaming so loudly in my head. So, I had to lie! I HAD TO! DON'T JUDGE ME! I said, "I go to church, okay? I don't need a new church. I like mine." He said, "That's all that matters. Have a great night." I lied! I haven't been to church since April! APRIL!! I'm going to hell...I should've just said I was gay...


In other news, I had a bit of an adventure on Sunday...Phoenix and I picked up her nieces (All three of them, Grumpy who's super preggers and due in less than two weeks, Little Phoenix, and Goofy) and took them to see some houses again before heading to the whole family Thanksgiving, which is held at a catering hall because there are so many people. So, we started our adventure like two hours later than we planned because Little Phoenix and Goofy had slept in, but we had time to have a mini-adventure. We took off and saw signs for an open house. We stopped and went in to be greeted by some Realtor we'll call Outback Jack. Seriously, he sounded like he was from Australia. Weird. Everyone ditched me and left me lying to this man. Yes, I want to buy a house one day, but not any time soon. I told him we were looking for the next year or so and I'm simply, "Doing my homework." I suppose it's not an outright lie, but still...The house was nice, but not fabulous. It was only $309,000 and it had a HUGE backyard, which was nice. After I was able to get away from Jack, we headed to some model homes. OMG! These were fabulous houses with nice floor plans, came standard with the upgrades, and they were cheaper than the other houses we fell in love with before!! Once again though, I was the one lying to the Realtor. Next time we go, I'm going to pretend to be a mute!! I'm done lying!


After house hunting for a while, we headed to the Casual Male store I like to shop at. They were having an awesome sale over the weekend so I thought I'd pick up some clothes for cheap. YEAH RIGHT! Apparently, the good sale was on Wednesday and Friday and they had crappy stuff on sale over the weekend. The way the ad was set up was confusing and the manager had to show it to me for me to see what the hell he was talking about. I was like, "Well, had I known that, I would've come in on Friday before work!" He said, "Oh. Well, had you called and said you couldn't make it, we would've held stuff for you." What the hell? Why not honor it then? *rolls eyes* I left pissed off. Why would they set up an ad to show stuff on sale for different days on the same page? It made no sense. No, that's a lie...They want to make people (like me) come in when it's convenient, but then the shit isn't on sale and most people will still go, "Oh...Well, I need a new pair of jeans and I'm already here, so..." But not me. I didn't buy shit. Fuckers.


We finally made it to the hall and waited an hour and a half for the rest of the family to show up and to eat. The food was good and I had a good time. Phoenix's family is pretty nice. I also watched as Phoenix played some dice game. I have no idea what it is and I'm not even going to try to describe it. Had she won, she would've won $81 though...She didn't win though. She was one of the finalists, which was exciting, but still...SHE LOST! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!! Have I ever mentioned how much she hates losing? Well, she does.


Before the family shin-dig was over, work had to call me to ask me to give up my Monday off too. Fuckers. I said I'd go in though because I'm going to have to give up this coming Sunday because I'm going to a Cardinals game. I'm super excited about that. It's really stupid about work though because they make such a big deal about the schedule and how everyone must follow it, but they can't even schedule us correctly!! How hard is it to make sure two people are working each night? I work for morons...


For those of you wondering about the horrible pain I've been having on the right side of my chest/abdomen, no, I have no clue what's happening. I went for an ultrasound and everything came back fine. I called the doctor to get the results, which is how I know all is well, but I pointed out I still have the pain. My doctor's advice was to put ice on it. I should've asked, "On the front or the back since the pain goes all the way through?" Or perhaps I should cut myself open and shove the ice inside? Phoenix wants me to go to this urgent care place not far from here where they have access to x-rays, labs, etc so then I can just go in and get it all taken care of...And I'm holding out until I can no longer live with the pain. It's getting worse though, I swear. I'm tired of hurting. My sister thinks it's an ulcer, but I'm not sure an ulcer would act up from moving around. Like if I walk, it hurts. If I work, it hurts. Sitting for a little while makes it hurt. Standing for a while makes it hurt. I think I'm getting nauseous from the pain, not vice-versa. And it hurts when I eat heavy meals, but I think it's because I'm full...Just like if I drink too much water at once and I feel full, it hurts. So, yeah...I have no clue what it is, but I'm over it. I think I'll give in next week and go see a doctor...Maybe...


Until then...I'm off to work. Peace.