Some ass clown rear ended my kid today. In the Starbucks drive through for crap's sake. Kid was just handed the drink. Ass Clown decides kid is done and hits the gas.
Kid is okay, truck is unhurt. AC's Beemer doesn't fare as well, hood is buckled, radiator is pierced. What makes this jerkoff a true ass clown is that not only does he hit someone in a drive through, he proceeds to scream at the kid, like the kid is at fault.
Police are called and info is exchanged. Manager of Starbucks (good on you Starbucks) is perfectly happy to turn over the videotape of the whole event. So Ass Clown can't blame the kid for what he did.
Seriously, WTF is wrong with people? Can you REALLY not wait another 15-30 seconds for your caffeine fix?
That's one expensive cup of coffee for the Ass Clown in the Beemer. Maybe the world is lucky and this nimrod can't reproduce. And hopefully he doesn't have any pets.
And is there anyone who drives a Prius that knows the rules of the road? 90% of the cars that cut me off and make me slam on my brakes are Prius. One of these days I'm not going to hit the brakes and give 'em a Chevy enema. A little of the Heartbeat of America up your ass might knock the stick out and make you realize you've got a fugly ass car and can't drive worth a shit.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Of Bully Sticks and Oblivion
Several years ago, one of the hub's friends decided to be a dog food dealer. He was a skinny little shit, who hated fat chicks (me) and anyone who questions what he thinks he's an authority on (again, me).
Unfortunately, I'm the one who chooses the dog food, so he has to deal with me. I'm not an authority on ingredients, I know just enough to be annoying, which is still way more than he knows. So while he's trying to push me into buying a certain brand because he uses it and it's good because his dogs are shiny, I'm questioning ingredients, protein percentages, carbs, etc.
One day he comes by with a baggie he's made up of dog treats he's trying to sell me. He's already fed some to my dogs (which pisses me off as I don't want my dogs to start acting like him). These "treats" have an odd shape and a nasty smell. I insist on seeing the original package they came in, so I follow him out to his car.
The package is labeled Bully Sticks. Ingredients: 100% percent steer pizzle
"Uh, these things are weiners"
(Turns and speaks to my kid) "Your mom's crazy, these are dog treats."
"They may be dog treats, but what part of the steer do you think the pizzle comes from?"
I see his face redden at the realization that the fat chick may be right.
"So do you want them or not"
"No, there's something creepy about feeding an animal's dork to my dogs"
He stomps off and decides to do all his subsequent transactions with the hubster. Eventually he disappears from our lives as it's hard to stay in business when the proceeds go up your nose.Or maybe it's because after that day everyone who knew him quit calling him by his first name and referred to him as Steer Pizzle.
Some Background on where I work
I should mention that Boss Man is a male who would be the target of womens right's groups anywhere. Most women who've met him agree that if he were the last man on earth, they'd take a vow of abstinence.
The other women employed there are my children's ages. They are great girls and I really enjoy working with them, although there are days that I feel every year of the generation gap. Two door down in our complex is a house of prostitution, thinly disguised as a skin care center. I don't get to meet too many of the people from the other businesses since nobody wants to deal with Boss Man, but the ones I've met seem very nice, although they tell me nobody lasts a year there.
The complex has been there for over 30 years, in what once was a nice area. Tough economic times have depressed it a bit. The few other business owners I've met tell me that late at night there's quite a bit of activity in the parking lot, mostly hookers turning tricks. There's also a convenience store that's been robbed a few times. We have our share of homeless people and a panhandler or two.
I've been told that there is a man who lives in his car that the landlord lets park in the lot in exchange for "keeping an eye on the place." He's the guy who was showering in the spigot this morning.
I also think the guy who waxes our floors lives in the office over the weekend.
The other women employed there are my children's ages. They are great girls and I really enjoy working with them, although there are days that I feel every year of the generation gap. Two door down in our complex is a house of prostitution, thinly disguised as a skin care center. I don't get to meet too many of the people from the other businesses since nobody wants to deal with Boss Man, but the ones I've met seem very nice, although they tell me nobody lasts a year there.
The complex has been there for over 30 years, in what once was a nice area. Tough economic times have depressed it a bit. The few other business owners I've met tell me that late at night there's quite a bit of activity in the parking lot, mostly hookers turning tricks. There's also a convenience store that's been robbed a few times. We have our share of homeless people and a panhandler or two.
I've been told that there is a man who lives in his car that the landlord lets park in the lot in exchange for "keeping an eye on the place." He's the guy who was showering in the spigot this morning.
I also think the guy who waxes our floors lives in the office over the weekend.
Another Saturday Shot Clinic
If you're still with me, you've read about Thursday and Friday and understand the frame of mind I was in today.
The first thing I see when I park my car is a man washing his hair in water from the spigot by the parking lot. We exchange good mornings as I go in. I get prepared for the day as Saturdays are busy, and we have 2 employees working.
Boss Man comes in and first thing he says to me is "You didn't bill the charity for the spay yesterday" I ask him when the hell I was supposed to have time, when he left me with a room full of clients to go to lunch when we were so busy. He proceeds to reach over me and write his name on his water bottle, so everyone knows that one is his. I say "good, now I know which one to spit in."
Today I work with a girl who works relief for us, standing in when there's not enough coverage. She's the youngest of the bunch, friendly and nice and just fun to work with. She's always loved working there, and for a long time wanted nothing more than to be hired. But even she's had enough and told me today that she's "so over ever wanting to work here".
Busy, but not really any ass clowns today. A good thing, since had I strangled Boss Man, there would have been too many witnesses.
The first thing I see when I park my car is a man washing his hair in water from the spigot by the parking lot. We exchange good mornings as I go in. I get prepared for the day as Saturdays are busy, and we have 2 employees working.
Boss Man comes in and first thing he says to me is "You didn't bill the charity for the spay yesterday" I ask him when the hell I was supposed to have time, when he left me with a room full of clients to go to lunch when we were so busy. He proceeds to reach over me and write his name on his water bottle, so everyone knows that one is his. I say "good, now I know which one to spit in."
Today I work with a girl who works relief for us, standing in when there's not enough coverage. She's the youngest of the bunch, friendly and nice and just fun to work with. She's always loved working there, and for a long time wanted nothing more than to be hired. But even she's had enough and told me today that she's "so over ever wanting to work here".
Busy, but not really any ass clowns today. A good thing, since had I strangled Boss Man, there would have been too many witnesses.
The last few days.....Arghhhh
The last few days have been rough. I've mentioned before that economic necessity has only one employee per shift, which is usually sufficient unless we get busy. One of the girls has been on vacation, so the other and I have been covering her hours. I usually work the morning/opening shift, but the other girl asked that I close a few times just to switch things up and I agreed.
I should mention that the temps have reached the triple digits. And in keeping with the usual luck, the air conditioner decided to die. So Thursday, my closing shift, the outdoor temps are 112, the office is 90. I'm a middle aged fat chick as it is, and I'm sweating so much my bra is wringing wet. Boss man comes in from lunch and is moaning that it's hot and he doesn't feel well. He holes up in the surgery room with his ass plastered up against the only working fan we have. Clients are few as nobody goes out in heat like that unless they have to, and it's the longest shift in the world.
Friday morning I open, and we are busy. Thankfully someone has mickeyed the a/c enough to give us some cool air. Except my boss is in a bad mood, going from being an ass to a true bastard and I'm in no mood to tolerate it.
We are busy enough to keep me on my toes with no paperwork. Someone comes in whose dog died the night before, he wants to arrange cremation with return of the ashes. This is a huge dog, who died in the hot weather. There is no way I can lift the dog to put it in the freezer, so I have him leave the dog inside the back door. I tag the body and call the cemetery. They agree to come right away (having stopped by the day before and knowing how hot it is).
Next client is a mange dip. The bathtub is in the back. Where the stinky dead dog is. I fly back there to cover the dog with a blanket so I can get the clients with their dog and do the mange dip. Mange dips take a ton of time, as you have to make sure the animal is thoroughly saturated with the solution. You can't towel or pat them dry, they have to air dry. I hand the dog back to the clients and go up to the front.
The waiting room is full of people and my boss' car is gone. He walked past the waiting room full of people, never said anything to them or me, and went to lunch. I get the people taken care of (buying food and refilling medicine). Then the cemetery guy comes in for the dog. The client had prepaid. Except there is no money in the drawer, nor is there a business check left for them. So I call Boss Man's cell, and he doesn't seem to get it. The last thing I want to do is leave that dog back there any longer, so I offer to write a personal check, but I need to be reimbursed immediately as I don't have the funds. Boss Man snaps "I'm eating my lunch!" and hangs up on me. I write the check, and help the cemetery guy with the dog, apologizing the whole time for the condition of the body. He leaves, and ten minutes later Boss Man flies in, writes a business check to me, throws it at me, and leaves.
If the economy didn't suck and I didn't have bills to pay and hub's business wasn't tanking, I would have thrown my key on the counter and walked out forever. If wishes came true, I'd be taller, thinner, prettier, and not have to buy my couture at Wal Mart.
I should mention that the temps have reached the triple digits. And in keeping with the usual luck, the air conditioner decided to die. So Thursday, my closing shift, the outdoor temps are 112, the office is 90. I'm a middle aged fat chick as it is, and I'm sweating so much my bra is wringing wet. Boss man comes in from lunch and is moaning that it's hot and he doesn't feel well. He holes up in the surgery room with his ass plastered up against the only working fan we have. Clients are few as nobody goes out in heat like that unless they have to, and it's the longest shift in the world.
Friday morning I open, and we are busy. Thankfully someone has mickeyed the a/c enough to give us some cool air. Except my boss is in a bad mood, going from being an ass to a true bastard and I'm in no mood to tolerate it.
We are busy enough to keep me on my toes with no paperwork. Someone comes in whose dog died the night before, he wants to arrange cremation with return of the ashes. This is a huge dog, who died in the hot weather. There is no way I can lift the dog to put it in the freezer, so I have him leave the dog inside the back door. I tag the body and call the cemetery. They agree to come right away (having stopped by the day before and knowing how hot it is).
Next client is a mange dip. The bathtub is in the back. Where the stinky dead dog is. I fly back there to cover the dog with a blanket so I can get the clients with their dog and do the mange dip. Mange dips take a ton of time, as you have to make sure the animal is thoroughly saturated with the solution. You can't towel or pat them dry, they have to air dry. I hand the dog back to the clients and go up to the front.
The waiting room is full of people and my boss' car is gone. He walked past the waiting room full of people, never said anything to them or me, and went to lunch. I get the people taken care of (buying food and refilling medicine). Then the cemetery guy comes in for the dog. The client had prepaid. Except there is no money in the drawer, nor is there a business check left for them. So I call Boss Man's cell, and he doesn't seem to get it. The last thing I want to do is leave that dog back there any longer, so I offer to write a personal check, but I need to be reimbursed immediately as I don't have the funds. Boss Man snaps "I'm eating my lunch!" and hangs up on me. I write the check, and help the cemetery guy with the dog, apologizing the whole time for the condition of the body. He leaves, and ten minutes later Boss Man flies in, writes a business check to me, throws it at me, and leaves.
If the economy didn't suck and I didn't have bills to pay and hub's business wasn't tanking, I would have thrown my key on the counter and walked out forever. If wishes came true, I'd be taller, thinner, prettier, and not have to buy my couture at Wal Mart.
Friday, August 20, 2010
On Horses
I was recently asked if my blog was going to deal with the subject of horses. I love horses, and am a horse owner. My horses, with the exception of one have been the ones that other people throw away because they can't deal with their issues. They end up with me, and I put a great deal of time, energy and money into fixing them. They have a forever home as long as I can feed and take care of them. However, my heart is heavy right now for the following reasons:
I had to put the toughest rehab I've ever dealt with to sleep 3 years ago, when she was 24. Not a fun horse to ride, but I knew every muscle movement and every twitch of her ears. A few months later I was chosen by a gelding at an auction and he came home with me. My intention was to learn team penning and use him for trail rides and team penning.
My riding buddy, a cowboy, gentleman, and the greatest horseman I have ever had the experience of knowing, succumbed to cancer 2 years ago. He helped me get the gelding at auction (a huge source of pride for him) and he was going to be my team penning buddy. May he always ride good horses.
My riding instructor, who was helping me overcome some fears from a riding accident and give me back my love of riding, moved out of the area, and I haven't found someone else to work with. I've been doing things on my own for years, but I've always needed the motivation and feedback from someone else, pushing me to do things I'm capable of but my mind won't let me.
I had a lovely dressage schoolmaster. He was a lovely dressage horse although I'm not a lovely or talented dressage rider. I had to put him to sleep a few months ago. He foundered and his coffin bone rotated badly, to the point where euthanasia was the only humane choice. He was the ride of my life, and with him gone, my heart is not into riding right now.
The gelding who my friend helped me get still owns me. I discovered his training had so many holes the best choice was to restart him from the ground up. It's going well, but with losing my beloved schoolmaster, the desire to get on and ride him isn't there. I know it will come back, I just need to let my heart heal a bit.
I had to put the toughest rehab I've ever dealt with to sleep 3 years ago, when she was 24. Not a fun horse to ride, but I knew every muscle movement and every twitch of her ears. A few months later I was chosen by a gelding at an auction and he came home with me. My intention was to learn team penning and use him for trail rides and team penning.
My riding buddy, a cowboy, gentleman, and the greatest horseman I have ever had the experience of knowing, succumbed to cancer 2 years ago. He helped me get the gelding at auction (a huge source of pride for him) and he was going to be my team penning buddy. May he always ride good horses.
My riding instructor, who was helping me overcome some fears from a riding accident and give me back my love of riding, moved out of the area, and I haven't found someone else to work with. I've been doing things on my own for years, but I've always needed the motivation and feedback from someone else, pushing me to do things I'm capable of but my mind won't let me.
I had a lovely dressage schoolmaster. He was a lovely dressage horse although I'm not a lovely or talented dressage rider. I had to put him to sleep a few months ago. He foundered and his coffin bone rotated badly, to the point where euthanasia was the only humane choice. He was the ride of my life, and with him gone, my heart is not into riding right now.
The gelding who my friend helped me get still owns me. I discovered his training had so many holes the best choice was to restart him from the ground up. It's going well, but with losing my beloved schoolmaster, the desire to get on and ride him isn't there. I know it will come back, I just need to let my heart heal a bit.
Freaky Friday
Thursday was dead at the office, with the vet leaving early to attend some meetings. Today brought in a bunch of clients. Some were my long time favorites and some who will soon be favorites. I'm hoping today set the tone for Saturday and the fabulous come in. Shot clinics bring out the best and worst of everyone.
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