Saturday, February 26, 2011

"Woman verbally assaults man over carpenter jeans"

This blog is a feature mainly because I'm too lazy to come up with a topic of my own on a Saturday and because its really nice outside and I don't want to be tethered to my computer for three or four hours typing and editing. So I'm going to leave you with this blog my cousin Michael posted today about his carpenter jeans. The blog is hilarious!


Earlier this year, a Maricopa, Arizona woman named Trina "Shavonne" Norton verbally attacked a man, Michael Awesomeguy (later revealed to be her cousin) who was wearing denim carpenter jeans. Eyewitnesses and those within earshot stated that Norton said the man's pants were "sloppy and out of fashion", and that he looked like he "should be out bidding on painting jobs".
Norton further berated the mans lower-wear by adding "...and what's the point of all those stupid pockets?! You don't even have anything in them!"

The attack took place inside of a Burlington Coat Factory in Tempe, Arizona at the men's fashions section. Awesomeguy, who was shopping for a few striped polo shirts and a couple pairs of new carpenter jeans stated that the verbal barrage came out of nowhere and took him by surprise. "I mean nobody ever said anything before. I never thought anything was wrong with my jeans. All of a sudden while I'm sifting through the 50% off rack trying to find some blue-jean shorts, I get her flying all off a handle at me and stuff."

Shoppers present at the time of the tirade reportedly looked at Awesomeguy's carpenter jeans all at the same time, then looked at Norton, then back at the jeans, then back at Norton, then at Awesomeguy, then back at the jeans, then shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is, personally." stated Chandler man Harry Ballzonia, "They're just pants."
Amanda Hugginkis of Stafford said, "I guess I never really thought about all those unused pockets on carpenter jeans..." as she stared off into the distance contemplatively. "My husband has a few pair..."

Local law enforcement (store security) were called in to contain the situation. Police chief (head security team lead) Marty Wazzenbaker said the situation was pretty ugly at the time him and his men (a couple of guys from the back) showed up on the scene. "There were insults flying all over the place, a couple kids dropped their ice cream cones, and an old lady had to sit down." Wazzenbaker said that they used a store salesman to lure Norton away from Awesomeguy's pants with promises of 30% off on select shoes. "That got her." said Wazzenbaker.

Norton gave a statement following questioning and her eventual release from the little room they keep mall offenders in, "I mean c'mon! Who wears carpenter jeans anymore? Painter's pants is more like it. And what's up with that little loop on the side of the leg? What're you gonna ever use that for? Carpenter jeans are only for carpenters and painters and other men who work in the skilled trades. They have no business being seen in public."

When Awesomeguy learned of his cousin's further harsh words, he reportedly turned to attorney Blane Gimpstead to see if he possibly had a legal case. "My client came to me with tears in his eyes and a cell phone inside of one of his many pockets, and described the situation. I told him that while very cruel and unfortunate his situation is, there are no laws against acute fashion criticism. I'm afraid he has no case." Gimpstead was wearing a nice pair of pressed khakis.

Awesomeguy decided that his relationship with his cousin is now in a questionable state, however his relationship with his carpenter jeans is stronger than ever. "They've been there for me more than anyone else. If I ever need an extra pocket, they've got me covered. If for some reason I need to paint all of a sudden, they've got me covered. Even in the rare event that I need a convenient place to hold a hammer, there's this little loop on the side of the leg here. I mean, there's no other pants that have a loop on the side of the leg for holding a hammer! You could even use that to hold a paintbrush, a t-square, a lug many things."

When asked if there was any emotional scarring, Awesomeguy hung his head and said, "M-maybe I should get a pair of skinny jeans..."

In more recent news, Trina "Shavonne" Norton was apprehended earlier this week for punching her 6 year old son Camron in the jaw. Apparently, Norton arrived home one day to find the boy wearing carpenter jeans bought by his cousin Michael Awesomeguy who allegedly purchased them immediately after the incident inside Burlington Coat Factory.

A trial has been set for later this month.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Family Business (original post date March 30, 2008)

Three years ago on the 20th of February, Me and eight other of my relatives took the three day journey that landed us in Arizona (AZ).

The three day journey traveling across seven States was an adventure for all of us. While packing up our three cars in Michigan (MI), we experienced an ice storm that had us all sliding down the driveway as we packed up the cars. There wasn't a dry person in the group. We were all soaking wet!

The road trip started with my then, 5 year old cousin, Terrell, asking "Are we there yet?" and stopping every two hours for gas, potty breaks, and snack fill ups. We drove through Indiana (IN). Nothing special happened there. Illinois (IL) is where the fun started. We experiecned frigid air and high winds. So much wind in fact, my SUV (may she rest in peace) was being bullied and pushed along the highway. That was some scary stuff. Missouri (MO) was beautiful. We seen the Gateway Arch, hills along the highway that we had the privilege to drive through, and the temperature was starting to warm up. Oklahoma (OK) was nice. But not as nice as Missouri. There was when my family experienced Carl's Jr. for the first time. Before that, they've never heard of it. I love that place. Texas (TX) was when me, my cousin Shavonne and her three kids came up with the game Animal or "Animules". Whenever we spotted a field full of Cows, sheep, pigs, or whatever type of animal we would shout out "Animal!" or "Animules!". Whoever was the first to shout it out won the game. The rules were really simple. But as far as Texas goes, I hated it. Texas is too damn big. It took us from sun up to sun down to travel through the Lone Range State. No fun I must say. New Mexico (NM) was my absolute favorite State of all. I fell in love with the mountains, plateaus, the desert, and I really enjoyed seeing the artwork along the highway. They were all so beautiful. It's a landscape that I grew up far from and it's the State where I experienced my first Tamale. Then, finally, Arizona (AZ). It wasn't easy getting to where we are now. We had to drive down a mountain in the dark on a two-lane highway on a 6% decline in the rain. And my I add, it wasn't just any 'ol rain, it was a thunderstorm! Very frightening. Once we reached stable ground at the Circle K gas station we all got out of our cars and kissed the ground. My cousin Michael on the other hand. He was glued to his steering wheel in disbelief. But then we had to do round two on another mountain on a 6% decline. It was there that my cousin David's car temporarily broke down on the mountain while we were driving down. I felt bad for him. But we made it to the city and finally made it home. 33 hours, 22 minutes, 3 days, and over 2,000 miles was all it took to drive from Michigan to Arizona. I had a blast! I would do it all over again.

Once we reached the house, we all met up with my other cousin Yvette, her two boys, and Lynn. Talk about a tear fest. Finally all 12 of us were reunited again. We've only been apart for four months and everybody starts snotting up all over the place. The only four that was missing was my mom, brother, and my cousin Shavonne's husband Antonio. They all had to stay back in Michigan. And my cousin Latrice moved to California. So there we were. All 13 of us sharing a four bedroom, three and a half bathroom house. Luckily, there was a loft. Because without it, all that living space would not have been possible. 

This blog I'm posting is an old blog from my (deactivated) Myspace account. It takes place in March 2008 when everyone was moving out. I hope you enjoy it. I know I did when I rediscovered it in my blog archive saved on my computer.

March 30, 2008

Well, the fun is over. My 13 person household is now a 6 person household. My cousins Yvette and her two teenage boys moved out today. Her sister Shavonne (and husband Antonio, who is still in MI) left two days ago, along with their three kids, a pre-teen boy, an eight year old girl and a five year old boy. This house is sooooo quiet. I hate to say this but, I dread it. I actually have room to hear my thoughts. The quiet is soooo distracting.
This house used to be vibrant. Upstairs in the loft where the computer is, we had two TV’s going. One was specifically for the Direct T.V or Sponge Bob Network as I call it, since that’s the only show the boys wanted to watch, and the other T.V was only for the Play Station 2. There was always someone up here being entertained by something. Now it’s just one lone T.V that’s off more often than on and the computer that no one is fighting to use.
I don’t have any reason to look forward to 3 and 4 in the afternoon anymore. Seeing as how my 5 cousins are all in their own homes now. I can’t just randomly pop up and yell "Do your homework!" and then walk away. I can’t expect the volume of the house to go up every few minutes. I can’t just peep out my bedroom window and see the backyard being taken over by little people.  
The pleasant noisy sounds of kids playin’ in the backyard, shootin’ hoops, accompanied by of the thud of the basketball bouncing off the pavement and "Swooshing" out the the Nerf/And 1 basket net, has all been taken over by the peaceful reserved sounds of well, nothing. Only occasionally being replaced by the passing air planes thousands of miles above, the smooth sound of metal gliding against the railroads teamed with a slight "Choo-choo" from the train, and the unenthusiastic barking from a dog in the distance.
The refrigerator, freezer, and pantry now lie nearly empty. The kitchen used to be plentiful with food, snacks, and soft drinks. Now the amount of food, snacks, and drinks have been dramatically decreased. I have to admit, I can sometimes be a bit of a crumb snatcher. Yeah sure, I have a nice figure, but I take after my mama when it comes to this--What?! I love food.
The kitchen always had someone in it. I blogged about this back in July of 2007, titled Follow the leader. It’s about how when one person gets up to grab a snack and then suddenly life itself stops ’cause now everyone wants to get up and grab a snack. That excitement is all gone now. 
Dinner time carried a whole different meaning in this house. Dinner time meant having a car load of people going out to venture out on John Wayne Parkway for food, come back, crowed around the kitchen island and spread out into the Family room all while poking fun at Terrell ’cause he didn’t want to "smell" our food. It’s just-- it’s just nothing now. The kitchen is lifeless.
The Family room was filled with the laughter of all the women in the family. Nana, Lynn, Faye, Yvette, Shavonne, and sometimes Sylvester exchanging stories, jokes, or yelling at the kids ’cause they actin’ wild, all while being indecisive on what to watch on T.V. A lot of that excessive energy died down.      
The upstairs bathroom will never run out of toilet paper! Now that there isn’t 5 kids taking it for granted. I walked in awhile ago and I was shocked by how much space was available. My toothbrush is the only one in there! When before it would stand around with three others. My face towel is the only one hanging behind the door on the three row towel rack. And oh my gosh! No more walking onto a wet floor mat and sink. Everything is perfectly dry. Weird...
I used to share a room with my cousin Marie. Now, it’s just me. Before the move to Arizona I always loved to have my own space and quiet. Now that I’ve experienced it with someone I’m actually missing her. I miss the way she’d pop in just to cause trouble, especially when I’m in my zone. (Listening to music, reading, or writing). I miss all her little clothes hanging from her side of the walk-in closet. I miss how she had all her little girly things laying around in a messy pile by the side of her bed off on her side of the room, and how she emulated me by writing in her notebook with her set of colored BiC Velocity pens. My room is so dull now. There’s nothing but this big empty space where her bed was. 
Bedtime will never be the same. Terrell and Marie was always the first to go. The best was when Terrell had to go around and hug everybody and say goodnight, even though he acted like he didn’t want to, but we knew he enjoyed it. I loved watching him running around with his adored Pooh Bear with his little grey wife beater and dark blue basket ball shorts. And also loved the other good times with Marie. Like when I’d be in my room, once again writing (Jeez! Is that all I do?) and I had to dim the lights and turn down the T.V so Marie could prey and fall asleep. Or the other times when I wasn’t writing (See! I do have a life) and was actually watching T.V. Sometimes when Marie couldn’t fall asleep we’d joke around, talk, or just chill and watch Friends, Scrubs, or the Simpson’s, depending on how late it was, until she fell asleep and then I’d fall asleep awhile after her.
I’m off midnight duty when it comes to Marie. Every night I’d tuck her in before Shavonne gets a chance since Terrell was a handful. And every night I’d wake up every few hours just to make sure she’s well adjusted. If she’s not, I’d cut in and re-adjust her and making sure she didn’t kick off all her covers. The Arizona nights can be really frigid. So, I had to take care of my girl. I never liked seeing her shivering.

My room has fallen silent. I’m no longer being entertained by the sound of Marie talking in her sleep, or hearing her flop around on queen sized inflatable air mattress, that stood about yay high, up to my knees. Thank God that the sound of that torturous grinding of teeth is over! Oh! I’m glad I don’t have to live through that every night. Now, the only sound I’m limited to hearing is the soft sound of air passing through the blades of my fan and the hum of the central air or central fan. 
Having to walk through the loft to sneak past Big and Little Mike sleeping, tip toeing down the stairs, and zipping past Shavonne, Mikel, A.J, and Terrell in the living room, if they’re not already sleeping upstairs in their room, with the T.V on a low volume advertising infomercials, just to get to the kitchen for a late snack or a well needed glass of water is all over. All the other adults (and me and Marie) had rooms. That part won’t change. But what did change was the noisy mornings.
No more Shavonne sneaking in to wake Marie after I’d already been woke and can clearly hear every attempted whisper. No more bein’ awaken by the attempted whisper after I had a long sleepless night. No more hearing Terrell downstairs complaining that he doesn’t want to eat before school. No more hearing the boys chattering before they walkout for school. No more. 
I didn’t know that I’d be so attached to these people. For goodness sake, I see them every day! Especially on the weekends. What am I trippin’ over? Deep inside I never wanted them to go. I’d been secretly depressed for the last two weeks since I knew they were leaving soon. Everyone picked up on my secret depression in the middle of this week and teased me for awhile. But it’s all good ’cause we’re never parted for long. 
 ...I wish they didn’t have to go... 

Thursday, February 24, 2011


As I was walking out of the restroom I noticed Brook setting up to do her night stocking in the Pharmacy area. While I walked towards her from the restroom hallway I was holding my bag of plain Lay's potato chips and thought to myself:

"I hope she doesn't think I didn't wash my hands because I just washed my hands. I can still smell the soap. She could walk into the restroom right now and notice the water in the sink. That's sick. Who would go into the restroom and come out eating a bag of chips without washing their hands? That's nasty. I would never do that. I wonder if she wants a chip. I would share if she asked me. But she probably thinks I didn't wash my--"

Brook: (in audible)

Me: (While munching on my chips.) Who did what?

Brook: It's a mark down!

Me: What's a mark down?

Brook: The condoms!

My inner monologue:
(While looking at the condoms behind the locked glass.) The entire condom shelf is on clearance. How is this a 'mark down?' They're still expensive. Why do they cost so much in the first place? They're behind glass. No one can steal these. No wonder they're on 'mark down'. No one wants to buy this.

Me: They're (the grocery store) gonna stop selling condoms.

Brook: Or bring some brand new ones in! Who wants to pay $10 for a pack of condoms?

My inner monologue:
They're gonna be even more expensive. The condom company wants to end fornication. Haa! That's funny.

Me: Or they could all stop having sex.

My inner monologue:
Those boxes aren't cheap. Who wants to pay $10 for a box of condoms? They won't sell. No one will buy condoms. There's gonna be babies everywhere! Everyone's gonna have STDs! There's a way around it.

Brook: Laughing out loud.

My inner monologue:
No. That won't work. Who would voluntarily give up sex?

Me: Or they could all get married.

My inner monologue:
That way they could keep having sex without having to use expensive condoms. But there would be babies everywhere! Unless the girl takes birth control.

Brook: Laughing out loud.

Me: Yeah. That won't ever happen.

This Shorts Moment has been brought to you by Krissy.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Is it the Friggin' End of the World?

It was a quarter to midnight on a Tuesday and the store was dead silent. Other than the music playing over the speaker system the only other sound that could be heard was the floor cleaner roaring up and down the empty aisles. Looking at the clock, Krissy, just knew she was going to be standing near her register twiddling her fingers in boredom just as she does every night around that time. Taking her phone out her pocket, she thought she would give her Facebook Feed a last look before trying to figure out something to do to speed up time. Before she could successfully connect to the internet a customer approached her with a few grocery items. She quickly hid the phone out of the customers view in her smock and greeted the man as if he was gold. After he paid and left she took her phone out of her pocket again to catch up with the Facebook news. She only got as far as reading one page before getting bored with the site and disconnected. No soon after she disconnected from the internet she seen a middle age lady walk past her register with a cart full of groceries heading towards the adjacent aisle. "Ok." She thought to herself "I'm gonna need baggage help on that order." and proceeded to help the customer in front of her. Little did she know how much baggage help she would really need.

I'm done with that third person crap. The lady I was ringing up in front of me, I was referring to, decided to take advantage of the never ending 10 for $10 deal and brought 40 cans of Campbell's soup. Come on! Who really needs that much soup? She didn't make it easy for me either. She wanted to have me ring up her order 10 cans at a time so that she could take advantage of the $3 off coupon that prints out after the transaction along with her coupons. Mind you, there's seven people in line behind her with big orders as well. What would usually take me three minutes took ten minutes with her. I wasn't mad or frustrated with her. She was actually really nice and I liked her. I just couldn't wrap my head around her shopping methods. If  someone wants soup that bad I would think they would haul their asses out the house sooner than a quarter to midnight and well before the last day of the sale to end at that. She ended up paying $2.40 for each order. Times that by four. She paid $9.60 for 40 cans of soup. Good for her. Then she had the audacity to ask me for a Rain Check of 10 more cans of soup. just brought up the entire aisle and you want more?! Damn!

Immediately after her was a lady that brought $240.00 worth of groceries (the one that made me think to myself earlier). She was another coupon lady. Paying with a check I might add. She saved about $115.00 on her order. She was nice and I enjoyed ringing up her order. After her was another gigantic order upon another. Just to make it clear, I wasn't mad or frustrated at anyone. I just didn't understand where those people were coming from. Just a half hour to ten minutes prior, the store was so dead that I thought I seen a tumbleweed blow through. My line was about seven people deep and I honestly didn't see an end. Originally my manager was helping me bag until she caved and ran to the office to grab a till. She began to ring on the register behind me. But even with her help, the line wasn't letting up.

Finally, five minutes after midnight and my line has completely cease to exist. I was finally able to clock out. I never experienced anything like that other than Black Friday. And Black Friday was brutal! Everybody and they mama was up at my job last night. You would've thought the sky was falling.

Tomorrow is the start of a sale. Oh joy! <---That's pure sarcasm if you didn't pick up on that.

I need to get back to studying for my X-ray Certification. I don't wanna be stuck working at the grocery store any longer than what I have to.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Stolen Forks

Yes. You read it right. I have stolen forks. Before you go off thinking crazy thoughts let me explain.

I have a crazy sweet tooth. When I used to work for the restaurant, I would buy a slice of cake before the end of my shift and quickly grab a fork to get a little taste before I began rolling silverware. One hundred percent of the time I was too lazy to walk the used fork to the back of the house (dishwasher) to get washed. So I'd save my steps and tuck the fork into my cardboard to go container to take home to finish later.

No one ever caught on to this. I actually can't believe I went as far as stealing forks to get my sugar fix. I think I have about five forks in the drawer. I'm reminded of this great tragedy every time I reach in to the drawer for cutlery.

Here's some pastries I enjoyed eating while I was employed at the restaurant.


Red Velvet Cake

Turtle Pie

Creme Brulee

Strawberry Short Cake

Lemon Bars

Oreo Cake

Chocolate Mouse Cake

Carrot Cake

Brooklyn 7-Layer Cake

Chocolate and Raspberry Rugelach (pronounced ROOG-Luh)
Hopefully now you understand. They look delicious, right?

Now talk amongst yourselves.

Monday, February 21, 2011

The Things that Make me Laugh

If you grew up in the 90s and you watched Cartoon Network, then you know Dee Dee, Lee Lee, and Mee Mee from Dexter's Laboratory.

During the summer of '98, Michael and I set up camp at my Nana's and Papa's house. Our intentions were to stay for the weekend. But being the type of teens that we were, we ended up staying the entire summer. I guess you could say we lived there. Ok. You could say we lived there. I didn't stay but five minutes up the street. But I didn't go home for nothing. I had all my essentials like my Nintendo 64 equipped with my one game. Mario 64. I had my one green controller and my gigantic cheat book. I had my K-Ci & Jo-Jo: Love Always CD, Janet Jackson: Velvet Rope CD, and Cleopatra: Comin atcha CD. I had my undies and toothbrush. So, I really didn't need to go home for anything. I was set for the 3 1/2 month summer vacation. My summer was slightly sucky because I had to go to summer school for six weeks. But, outside of that, life was golden.

I wanted to stay at my Nana and Papa's house for as long as possible. Which is why I had all my essentials. They had air conditioning, cable TV, and two computers. The kitchen computer had internet connection, the original Sim City, and a color printer. The basement computer was old school and had classic computer games like Chips Challenge, Tetris, and Pipe Dreams. I was addicted to those games. They had long distance service on their house phone. They always had food. And their house was always full of life. Two out of three of their girls still lived at home. Their oldest child was Yvette. She was married with two young boys; four year old Mikel (Me-kel) and three year old Mikal (Michael). So she was moved out, which left their middle child, Latrice. She attended college. Their last child, Shavonne, she had a three year old boy, A.J. And when my mom, Olivia, would stop by, she brought my one year old brother, Dante.

That summer, Dexter's Lab was the Cartoon Network's new show. I remember me and my cousin David would wait around anxiously for Thursday nights to roll around to catch the new episode of Dexter. That cartoon was our crack. The best memory was when my cousin, Michael, would compare us to Dexter and Dee Dee. He was the cool, calm, and collected inquisitive type while I was the hyper, talkative, girly girl that nagged him all-the-time. Somethings just don't change. Thirteen years later and we still act like them.

While I was at work last night, three girls came in a quarter to Midnight (before closing). The grocery store was calm and silent. The only thing anyone could hear was the crappy music playing through the speaker system and the floor cleaning machine. As soon as they came in, the entire balance of the store was thrown off. Suddenly the store was full of life again and all I heard was loud giggling and "oh my gosh" bombs being thrown around. They walked to the aisle that the ice cream was in. They were standing in front of the glass like they were mesmerize by frozen dairy like the ice cream was gold fish swimming in a glass bowl. I'm not saying they were dumb blonds. But by the conversation they were having, a person sorta starts to wonder. Girl one: "Oh my gosh". Girl two :"Oh my gosh!" Girl three: "Oh. My. Gosh." I could not stop laughing at them. After they were done with their exciting ice cream conversation, they all walked to the end cap of that aisle that housed the Brisk Ice Tea's, Monsters, Red Bulls, exedra exedra. All I heard that time was, "Oh my gosh." and "Like" every other word. Pitiful stuff. I know. Then after they were done with the cooler they headed back to the bakery/produce area. Finally, five minutes to midnight they come into my lane giggling, talking loud, using "oh my gosh" and "like" every other word. I rang up their tiny order and they were on their way.

They were all nice girls. I really enjoyed having them stopping into my store so I could Blog about them. After they walked out the store, I looked at my Service Clerk (bagger) and said, "They did all of that for cookie dough, a mini baguette, Brisk Ice Tea, and an Arizona Ice Tea? That was unreal. They sounded like they were at a slumber party." Then I immediately thought of Dee Dee and her friends. They were all just hyper.

I think I met the real life blond versions of Dee Dee, Lee Lee, and Mee Mee. Haa!

The image posted above is a Goolge Earth snap shot of the actual house I mentioned in this blog. So many memories.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Boys Boys Boys

Names have been changed to protect the guilty and the innocent.

I don't know if it's in the water or if it's in the air, but lately a lot of young guys have been attracted to me. I know I look like a twenty-twenty one year old girl, but uh, this young senorita is a twenty five year old woman. I don't have time to mess around with these young butts. I needs me a man. Preferably 6 ft 2, twenty six years old with a career and no baggage. If you're my guy and you're reading this, give me a holla. I never got this type of attention from the youngens when I lived Michigan. Only from the youngens here in Arizona.

When I first moved out here three years ago, I dated James. He was a twenty one year old Firefighter. And I was twenty three. Our relationship only lasted five months because he was a lazy boyfriend. He wasn't attentive, he was selfish, and he just overall acted like he didn't care. I stopped wasting my time on him and broke up with that fool. He was dead weight.  

A year ago, I magically ended up in a relationship with Kent. I say magically because I never had any intentions of being with the guy. It kind of just happened. We both worked at the restaurant for a while until he was terminated over a trivial issue. But nonetheless, he was terminated and that effected our relationship a great deal. Before he was terminated he was always there for me. And I mean that figuratively and literally. He was happy, giving, all the good things you could think of, he was that. But his termination got to him because he was worrying about money and he fell into a depression and talks of him moving back home to Baltimore, Maryland was lingering in air. And his being happy, giving, and all the good things you could think of, was no more. I was his support system, but when it came to him talking about "What if I moved back to Baltimore?" I got depressed and my support wasn't as supportive as it was before he brought up Baltimore again. He was twenty one and I was twenty four. Our relationship was really truly special. My family loved him and most importantly we had loads and loads in common. We really felt that our relationship would last, but the worst happened, and he had to move back home to Baltimore.

Following my relationship with Kent came Lee. We had a 3 1/2 month long distant relationship. We knew each other from High School back in Michigan. He was twenty four and I was twenty five. I felt most comfortable in this relationship because we know each other since forever and our chemistry was off the charts. We shared the same future goals and we wanted to spend forever with each other. The only thing that was missing was the physicality of each other as with most other long distant relationships. The distants got to him quicker than it got to me and it resulted in him texting me one random day in November talkin' about "I have feelings for someone else". Well that news didn't exactly blow over with me so well and we called it quits that same night. Needless to say, I was hurt by his betrayal because we've come a long way as friends first and as a couple second. He was once one of my closes friends in this entire world; more like a best friend and now he's nothing me. We don't speak anymore and I don't think we ever will again. I miss him more as a friend more that I do a boyfriend. But what can a person do after they've been betrayed? Move on and block out the memories.

My first week working at the grocery store threw me in an unusual situation. I was attracted to my bag boy Bryce and Bryce was attracted to me. Our attraction was unspoken for a really long time. But as far as his attraction goes, I could see right through his actions and I somewhat knew that he liked me a lot. I didn't tell him about my attraction until earlier this month. We met each other in December. Every since then he'd push whosoever was bagging for me off of my bagging station and he would start bagging for me. Then on top of that, he wouldn't go away until one of us was done with our shift. I didn't mind it (and I still don't mind it) because he's fast, he could keep up with my fast pace, and we always have really good conversations. I knew it was gonna be trouble when he started opening up to me about his attraction to me and say things like, "We should hang out."  I mean, I wouldn't mind hanging out with him outside of work. But there's only one problem. He has a curfew. My Bryce is seventeen! And I. I am twenty five. Yeah. Not exactly gonna happen. He's the same age as my teenage cousins, y'all. That wouldn't look right. He always saying things like, "Well it's good that you look young."or "I'll be eighteen soon." Uh. No you won't. Your birthday is not coming back around until November and I'll be twenty six by then. Or my personal favorite, "Age ain't nothin' but a number. Don't let that hold you back from what you really want to do." Yeah sure, if I want to spend time in a jail. Only people with age issues use age cliches. And another thing. I like to drink. He's not even old enough to take a whiff of alcohol with out getting cuffed. You must be at least twenty one to get on this ride.

But I'm not worried. I know my love life will make a come back and I'll end up with my dream guy. You know, with the one that's preferably older than me, with a career and no baggage. Once again. Give me a holla if you're out here. Until then, I need to purchase some Young Guy Be Gone spray and repel these young butts. I don't want jail time.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

I've Been Robbed

This story includes actual events. No animals were hurt during the typing of this blog.

I feel like a big chunk of my heart was ripped out of my chest. I'm empty. I no longer have a cushion to land on. It was yanked away from me. Now I'm gonna fall hard on my ass. And to think, all I had to do was go to the website before 6 PM Friday night. But did I do it? No. I was 35 minutes late.

What I'm talking about is my unemployment insurance I file every Sunday. Since I forgot to file this Sunday I thought I would wait until Thursday when I got my check so I could file the exact amount of money I made instead of guesstimating. But not that I needed the unemployment money or anything. It was just nice to know that I had a cushion to land on just in case my hours dropped below a certain amount at work then I'd have "insurance" money coming in to cover my loss. But now, I have nothing. My fault.

Well, it all started in late May at the restaurant. I was new to the world of waitressing and muti-tasking wasn't exactly my strongest point when I had 6+ tables in my section on a busy lunch or dinner rush. My customer service skills were outstanding! But when it came to remembering that table 40 needed a void from their bill because of this that and the other and management was the only one authorized to void it, table 41 wanted a Chocolate egg cream and I kept forgetting the difference between Chocolate egg cream and a Chocolate Phosphate because I'm not from New York nor am I a baby boomer so naturally I could never remember the difference between the two, I deliver table 42's order but they wanna debate and convince me they ordered differently when I have their order written down exactly the way they told me and now I have to go out of my way to have the order "corrected" , table 43 order came out wrong so now I have to go back to the kitchen and yell at the cooks for fuckin' up my order, table 44 wants a desert with an extra plate and the deli refuses to make it for me even though its their job to make it, table 45 gives me a $100 bill on a $15.67 check and needs change, table 46 wants to give me their entire life story and is taking precious time away from my other tables, table 45 wants a extra lean Corned beef sandwich on toasted rye, no cheese with mustard on the side with onion strings but keeps sending it back because the Corned beef wasn't "lean enough", the toast wasn't "toasted enough", and their onion strings weren't burnt to a crisp like they prefer it to be, table 46 wants a matzo ball soup with no veggies, so now I have to sift through the broth to get out the veggie chunks, table 47 is a four top and they all want separate checks and three of them are paying with cash, and I'm all out of small bills so now I have to run to the deli to break the $100 dollar bill plus the other three $20 dollar bills and figure out who all gets what, then you can only imagine how it feels to be a newbie in that environment. It gets overwhelming and you start forgetting things. Next thing you know you're "in the woods" and there's no one there to help because everyone else is busy too. Management is outside smoking a cigarette somewhere or just in hiding period, so you're waisting time looking for his lazy ass only to find him in the deli socializing with the bagel boy when they should be on the floor touching tables and helping you out and getting the Void for table 40. I had my good days and I had my bad days, but as my luck would have it, I had more bad days than good. Whoo! I'm gettin' all stressed out just thinking about this.

Management brought me into the office at the end of June without allowing me clock in, mind you. I had just came back from my two day vacation and it was the day after I just purchased my 2006 Nissan Altima. They told me I was doing x, y, and z wrong but did nothing to help me to fix my errors. Hell! I didn't even know I was doing so bad. Well actually I was doing good. I just had one bad week because I was going through some drama with Kent and it effected my work terribly. I thought I was getting a write up. No big deal. But nope. They took it a step further. They made me sign a piece of paper acknowledging my termination. I wrote how the termination was bullshit because they didn't make me aware of my errors nor did anything to help me correct them and is just skipping ahead by terminating me. I argued with the two dummies that was in the office and I was off to other restaurants to fill out applications. About two hours into my job search, I got a call from their Scottsdale location. The manager over there was one of the hiring managers for the new Chandler location. She left me a voicemail telling me about how she heard about my firing and how she wanted to transfer me in. I was so psyched that my two hour unemployment was over. I was ready to get back to work!

I was at the new location, everything was going well, I'm getting retrained by one of the veterans, and then about three weeks after my retraining or so the horrible "in the weeds" cycle started again. I lasted there until the end of August. So I ended up working for the company a total of four months. This horrendous firing started in the middle of my shift after the lunch rush. The manager told me I was doing x, y, and z wrong over x amount of time but they never stepped in to tell me that I needed to improve on nor were they helping me to correct them just like the Chandler location did me. Management at that company was horrible. Let's hypothetically call this restaurant Chompie's. Let me say it again. Management was horr-ible! I figured that part out early on when I was training at their Tempe location in April. I always intended on quitting early on, but the money was so good. I got addicted to it. I had an extra $800.00 a month after paying all my bills. I was ballin'! But I was smart and I saved what I didn't need to spend. Anyhoos, The manager at the Scottsdale location told me how good my work ethics were, how he would give me a good word if I listed them as my reference, and concluded with "things aren't working out..." and terminated me. That was a new low. I never got terminated from the same company twice. That's like an all time high (or low. I don't know which context to use) So yes! I qualified for unemployment insurance. I did nothing intentional to get fired.

Don't get me wrong. I was good at what I did. It was just that they would give us so many tables at once. Eight tables during a lunch or dinner rush was humanly impossible. Four tables during a rush is more reasonable. Eight tables during the slowest time made more sense. I'd rather work for a chain restaurant where employees are only limited three or four tables at a time. Workin' for that family owned restaurant was like stepping into another dimension. Management was like mom and dad. They both were in charge and they never communicated with each other. There were too many chiefs and not enough Indians. Too many chefs and not enough cooks. Ok. Enough with the metaphors. You get the idea.

I just wanna bring this little tid bit up. I was the only black female that worked in that Jewish/New York style establishment. The other was a black male. He worked at the Scottsdale location before transferring to the Chandler location. Everyone loved him! Once I transferred to the Scottsdale location everything changed. I at all times felt like an outcast. I'm a very likable person. I'm random. I say silly things with out ever realizing it after saying it because I'm always myself. I'm quaky, I laugh at myself, I'm playful, and I like that about me, but they for some reason or another refused warm up to me and befriend me. You could only imagine how that made me feel on a daily basis. The outcastness (I know that's not a word. I just felt enticed to use it) didn't just stay at work. It followed me home everyday. Even on my off days. I was so effected by this that I became anti-social. This job depressed every single strand of me. I never wanted to go into work. But I needed the money. I didn't have a choice but to go.

This has nothing to do with the story, but I just wanted to bring this up. I once had a customer call himself schooling me on Judaism. He said, "If you knew more about the Jews you'd get bigger tips." Excuse you? I have to know about the Jews just so I could work my tips? Sorry, guy. You have it all wrong. The only thing I need to know is how to woo my customers and I was already good at that. I gave the old dude a fake smile, told him thanks, and asked him if he needed extra lemons. I don't need anyone telling me what I need to know in order to get bigger tips. My tips were good! No thanks, guy. I believe in Jesus.

Oh wait! What was I talkin' about again? Oh yea. I was robbed.

Friday, February 18, 2011

My New Friend Moscato

The first alcoholic beverage I ever consumed was when I was nine years old (1994-1995). I love telling this story.

I remember it was a Saturday. It was me, my mom, her niece, and her two little kids that lived with us. I remember filling up my Chuck E. Cheese cup with water, sipping a few sips, and placing the cup in the back of the refrigerator. Later that day all my cousins and aunties came over for a party. Later that night after everyone left our town house I was feeling a little perched, so I reached to the back of the fridge to grab my little cup to drink my water. After drinking one sip I immediately busted into tears. I ran to the living room sofa and planted my head into the over sized pillows to cover up the tears that was running down my face. I was ballin', y'all. My mom was sitting on the love seat that was positioned on the adjacent wall. She was watching Lifetime I assume. She unglued her eyes from the TV and started asking me what was wrong. Me being the drama queen I was being at the moment, still hysterically crying, I answer her, "Iiiiiiiiiii'm gonna diiiiiiiie! It was beer in my cup." Without any reservation or any hesitation, she busted out in laughter. My cousin, let's call her Isha. She was sitting on the chair directly across from me with her two young kids. She busted out in laughter like it wasn't nothin'. Her oldest child, which had to be about four or five years old at the time walked up to me and started mocking me. It didn't help that my mom called her sisters and nieces and started telling them about what happened. I was so embarrassed. But now I can look back on this and laugh because I thought my life was over. I had one sip and I thought I it was curtins or that I was going to jail. We ended up finding out who put the beer in my cup. It was my cousin, let's call her Nina. She's about the same age as Isha. They were in their early 20's then. I still get teased by my cousin Isha. But it's ok. The memories are good.

In September 2006 I had my first taste of wine when I was on a date at the Olive Garden. The server offered a sample. If you know me, you'd know that I don't turn down a drink. I told her "Yes." and tried the free glass of red wine. I don't know what the heck I was drinking! All I remember is expecting this stuff to taste like grape juice. What I had was sour and very ungrape juice-like. It was awful and I remember vowing that I would never in a million years drink wine again.

April 2010 I was working at my first serving job. Yes, I was a waitress. Anyhoo, this lady ordered a glass of Chardonnay. And kept ordering them at that. While I was carrying the glasses of wine back to the lady all I could remember thinking is "I wanna drink this." The wine smelt delicious. I literally didn't wanna give it to her. But I had to. Later that night after my shift was over I went to the wine section at Bashe's. I was so ignorant to the world of wine. I didn't know what I was looking for more less the type of brand to buy. All I could remember thinking is "I want my Chardy. I want my bottle of Chardy." I saw the Barefoot brand that looked familiar to me from the restaurant. But me being the ignorant rookie to the aisle that I was I ended up grabbing the cheapest bottle I could find; Little Black Dress. That was a huge mistake. Worst tasting Chardonnay I ever had! My wine trips didn't stop there. I went again the following week and brought a bottle of red wine. I think it was Merlot. Barefoot of course. Then the week after that I brought a blush wine; White Zinfandel. That was the best $6 I ever spent, I'll tell ya. I instantly had a new friend. I drank about 50% of the bottle that night. So if you're keeping count, I brought three bottles of wine in a months time. I didn't drink them all. Uh. Let me correct myself. I only drank the full bottle of White Zinfandel. The other two was still occupying space. I decided to give my wine trips a break. I had too many unfinished bottles at home.

The following week while I was shopping at Target for my moms Mothers' Day present. I somehow ended up in the wine aisle. Don't ask me how I got there. While I was there looking at the wines, I had a wise idea to buy my mom a bottle of my new favorite; White Zinfandel. While I was there I had another wise idea to buy one more bottle for myself. My tasty choice that time was Cabernet Sauvignon. A red wine. I didn't really like it. So just like all the others, I put them away to be consumed later.

In my older post Blast From the Past I was going into detail about a relationship that took place when I worked at the new restaurant location. Months before that they had us new hires working at the new restaurant location, the company had all of the new employees scattered out training at their three other locations. When we got to our home store the bar manager held a wine class on day three. We spent about two hours learing how to pronounce the names of the bottles of wine, how to pour wine, what the prices were; how to get drunk basically. I couldn't tell you how many glasses of wine I tasted. That was a good day. I'll tell you that much. During that session I ended up liking a white wine called Riesling. Barefoot of course. That's the only brand I will drink. Anything else just doesn't tates right.

Since having my misadventures of buying wine and wine tasting, I've been hearing a lot about Moscato. It was not until today while I was shopping at Wally World--I mean, WalMart, that I finally decided to buy a bottle. Oh my gosh! That first sip was like--if God made the worst tasting thing in this world and made us eat it, regurgitate it, let it sit and rot, and then eat it again, it would be the opposite of that. The taste is so sweet. Kinda like Kool-Aid. I drank a third of the bottle within fifteen minutes of opening it. I doubt if the bottle makes it to the next day. I only have four ounces left.

I started drinking the bottle at three this afternoon. It's now one in the morning. So, if you grew up watching Sesame Street and you went to kindergarden, you should know how to count. That's right. I've been drinking on this one bottle of wine for ten hours. I used to wonder how people could go through one, two, three bottles of wine a day. I get it now.

And thus a wino is reborn.

Happy Drinking :)

Facebook status 2/18/2010: Me:1 Moscato: 0

Thursday, February 17, 2011

God Vs. Science

A science professor begins his school year with a lecture to the students, "Let me explain the problem science has with religion." The atheist professor of philosophy pauses before his class and then asks one of his new students to stand.

"You're a Christian, aren't you, son?"

"Yes sir," the student says.

"So you believe in God?"


"Is God good?"

"Sure! God's good."

"Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?"


"Are you good or evil?"

"The Bible says I'm evil."

The professor grins knowingly. "Aha! The Bible!" He considers for a moment. "Here's one for you. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help him? Would you try?"

"Yes sir, I would."

"So you're good...!"

"I wouldn't say that."

"But why not say that? You'd help a sick and maimed person if you could. Most of us would if we could. But God doesn't."

The student does not answer, so the professor continues. "He doesn't, does he? My brother was a Christian who died of cancer, even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Hmmm? Can you answer that one?"

The student remains silent.

"No, you can't, can you?" the professor says. He takes a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax.

"Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?"

"Er...yes," the student says.

"Is Satan good?"

The student doesn't hesitate on this one. "No."

"Then where does Satan come from?"

The student falters. "From God"

"That's right. God made Satan, didn't he? Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?"

"Yes, sir."

"Evil's everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything, correct?"


"So who created evil?" The professor continued, "If God created everything, then God created evil, since evil exists, and according to the principle that our works define who we are, then God is evil."

Again, the student has no answer. "Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things, do they exist in this world?"

The student squirms on his feet. "Yes."

"So who created them?"

The student does not answer again, so the professor repeats his question. "Who created them?" There is still no answer. Suddenly the lecturer breaks away to pace in front of the classroom. The class is mesmerized. "Tell me," he continues onto another student. "Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?"

The student's voice betrays him and cracks. "Yes, professor, I do."

The old man stops pacing. "Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?"

"No sir. I've never seen Him."

"Then tell us if you've ever heard your Jesus?"

"No, sir, I have not."

"Have you ever felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelt your Jesus? Have you ever had any sensory perception of Jesus Christ, or God for that matter?"

"No, sir, I'm afraid I haven't."

"Yet you still believe in him?"


"According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?"

"Nothing," the student replies. "I only have my faith."

"Yes, faith," the professor repeats. "And that is the problem science has with God. There is no evidence, only faith."

The student stands quietly for a moment, before asking a question of His own. "Professor, is there such thing as heat?"

"Yes," the professor replies. "There's heat."

"And is there such a thing as cold?"

"Yes, son, there's cold too."

"No sir, there isn't."

The professor turns to face the student, obviously interested. The room suddenly becomes very quiet. The student begins to explain. "You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, unlimited heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat, but we don't have anything called 'cold'. We can hit up to 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold; otherwise we would be able to go colder than the lowest -458 degrees."

"Everybody or object is susceptible to study when it has or transmits energy, and heat is what makes a body or matter have or transmit energy. Absolute zero (-458 F) is the total absence of heat. You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it."

Silence across the room. A pen drops somewhere in the classroom, sounding like a hammer.

"What about darkness, professor. Is there such a thing as darkness?"

"Yes," the professor replies without hesitation. "What is night if it isn't darkness?"

"You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something; it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light, but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? That's the meaning we use to define the word."

"In reality, darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?"

The professor begins to smile at the student in front of him. This will be a good semester. "So what point are you making, young man?"

"Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with, and so your conclusion must also be flawed."

The professor's face cannot hide his surprise this time. "Flawed? Can you explain how?"

"You are working on the premise of duality," the student explains. "You argue that there is life and then there's death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something infinate, something we can measure. Sir, science can't even explain a thought."

"It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, just the absence of it."

"Now tell me, professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?"

"If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do."

"Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?"

The professor begins to shake his head, still smiling, as he realizes where the argument is going. A very good semester, indeed.

"Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist, but a preacher?"

The class is in uproar. The student remains silent until the commotion has subsided.

"To continue the point you were making earlier to the other student, let me give you an example of what I mean."

The student looks around the room. "Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor's brain?" The class breaks out into laughter.

"Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor's brain, felt the professor's brain, touched or smelt the professor's brain? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, with all due respect, sir."

"So if science says you have no brain, how can we trust your lectures, sir?"

Now the room is silent. The professor just stares at the student, his face unreadable.

Finally, after what seems an eternity, the old man answers. "I guess you'll have to take them on faith."

"Now, you accept that there is faith, and, in fact, faith exists with life," the student continues. "Now, sir, is there such a thing as evil?"

Now uncertain, the professor responds, "Of course, there is. We see it every day. It is in the daily example of man's inhumanity to man. It is in the multitude of crime and violence everywhere in the world. These manifestations are nothing else but evil."

To this the student replied, "Evil does not exist sir, or at least it does not exist unto itself. Evil is simply the absence of God. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of God. God did not create evil. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God's love present in his heart. It's like the cold that comes when there is no heat or the darkness that comes when there is no light."

The professor sat down.

I know this is hella good and it makes you think, and you'll probably be thinking about this all day, but I have to tell you something. I didn't write this. I got this from a MySpace bulletin years ago. I liked it so much that I kept it saved only to bring the story back to life giving a new group of people something to think about. 

Enjoy your day.

Later, Bloggers. 

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Fools in Love

I have to tell you about what I experienced in the tent Monday afternoon on Valentine's Day!

I drove into my 2:30 shift expecting the tent to be completely empty of all people. I was wrong about that. There were a few souls sprinkled here and there. The merchandise on the other hand. Whoa! Ha! Yeah. They were done for. The first thing I noticed was all the empty boxes and crates pushed off to the side and away from the tent. It was like watching the recession of a mans hairline. The merchandise was lush and full the day before and then the very next day there were noticeably missing chunks.

Marco and...dang. I can't remember the girls name, but they were the only two in the tent when I arrived. There was nothing to do, so I made myself comfortable at the helium tank and started blowing up balloon bouquets and doing some light cleaning. Did I mention how hot it was? It had to be about 80 degrees that day. That's all fine and dandy when you're not forced to be outside in the dry heat. My 20 fl oz of Aquafina only got me so far. I took a few sips here, placed the bottle in the cooler, took another few sips there trying to keep hydrated. But it didn't matter how many sips I took. My throat still felt like I had cotton balls packed in there. We had a huge umbrella blocking the sun from our eyes while we rang on our single register, but the entire time it was there it was as if it wasn't there at all. It was hot and dry out. No umbrella could protect our little bodies from the heat I felt lingering from the brown webbed umbrella.

Remember how I said there was a few people sprinkled here and there? Well, they started piling up by the masses. You would have thought we were giving away free gold bars and Oprah scented roses with million dollar shopping sprees to Godiva by the way people were acting. The entire time I thought to myself while shaking my head, "Fools in love".

The day didn't go entirely smooth for me either. I ran into a huge road bump an hour or so into my shift. So I was there ringing up this lady just as I rang hundreds of  people before her and the one thing you wouldn't want to happen happened. The cash register had a seizer and turned into a vegetable. I felt like the world was closing in on me. There I was, the only employee in the tent on the only cash register within a thousand feet of the building and expected to ring up dozens of transactions per minute and my cash register goes to calculator heaven. I looked around and the line literally snaked halfway around the tent and the middle of the tent was packed with fools seeking after work Valentine's gifts. I took a deep breath and did what I do best. I blocked out anyone who wasn't standing in front of me, took my phone out of my pocket, and dialed 480-555-5555.
"Hello, thanks for calling the grocery store, how may I help you?"
"Hey, this is 'Krissy' in the tent. Can you send the manager out here for me? The register died."
While in the midst of my wait, I waited, and waited. I felt the stares of every single person standing in line. I caught a few people looking down at their watch. I could have died right then and there. That was the worst feeling I've ever felt; powerless.

Not too long after my manager came out to "man the register" this tall skinny black as tar black man walks up to me while handing me his merchandise and says to me, "There's five people over there doing nothing. They should be over here helping!" I stopped what ever it was that I was doing and stared him in what I thought was his eyes. He was wearing reflective sunglasses. All I seen was myself in the relfection of his sun glasses talking to him. I said right back to him as nice as I could, but also being condescending standing with my hands akimbo, "There's only one register." I guess he did the mathematics in his head and realized what I said to him made sense. Otherwise, how could five other people help me on one register? Hmm...Exactly. They can't. The five people he was referring to was the store manager, the floral manager, the floral delivery guy, Marco, and Tyler (Tyler is a girl). She's a Service Clerk (bagger) she's not authorized to handle a register noway. They were all in the refrigerated trailer putting the remainder of flower bouquets together. The man I rang up after him was telling the tar man goodbye like they were old pals. I asked him, "Is that guy famous or somethin?" because he drove of in a shinny black 2012 Mercedes Benz. The customer told me he coached for some baseball team in Texas. I don't care who he was. He was too arrogant for me.

After paying my dues to the register, Marco finally made is appearance and took over for me. There's this one guy I would never forget. While I was off in my hot corner blowing up balloons, this nicley dressed male walked up to me and started asking me about some flowers and why they looked dead, can the water be drained because he has to lug it home, whatever whatever. The vase that the bouquet of flowers were  arranged in was in this red and white mosaic type two foot tall champagne glass. This was one of the higher end vases that 80% of the cheap fools walked past. But not this fool. He wanted it bad. So I took the heavy ass vase, walked it over to the trailer to ask the store manager about the condition of the flowers (meanwhile, Tyler was laying on a stack of boxes below the trailer. She just at that moment while walking towards the tariler, fell backwards and was half way broken into tears because of her embarrassment. Ooops! Someone wasn't watching where she was going. I heard a hand full of people laughing at her about 30 feet away from the tent). The manager told me the name of the flowers, how they are supposed to look the way they do, and that they were actually blooming. Honestly, they looked like they were dieing. But after she told me what she told me the physical appearance of the flowers started to make sense. I relayed the message to the guy and proceeded to pour the water out of the two foot champagne glass.
"Is there any quicker way I could get out of here?"
I've been giving out generic answers all day to people, so my natural response was, "Uhh...Not really." Looking at how long the line was. "Unless you went inside" I quickly thought it over with myself "But then again I don't know how busy it is in there" Light bulb moment. "You know what? Yes there is." Realizing that I'm a cashier and that I can just simply hop in any register I wanted. "Come with me. I can ring you up inside."
"Are there any cards out here for daughters?"
"No. There's a limited selection out here. But there's definitely a lot more inside."
"Ok. Thanks."
"No problem."
As we walk in the cool building, I see that there was more people inside than it was outside. "We can go on register 3 when you're ready" and he went to off to aisle 16 to get his Hallmark greeting cards. While I was waiting on the man I stood at U-Scan with Brock.

That boy is really something else. He was running around like he was a chicken with his head cut off. He hates running U-Scan with a passion. I on the other hand, was standing there cool as a cucumber touching the touch screen computer while the alarms were sounding off like it was nothing. I love U-Scan. It's like second nature to me running eight registers at once. I don't know how I do it. Just like I tell all the other employees, I like it over there. It's like a game trying to keep all the alarms from going off. After five minute or so the man finally came back with his two cards and we proceeded to register 3. I felt like I was cheating the system. But I really didn't care. I liked this guy because he was being polite. I rang up his $89.99 two foot champagne glass full of flowers, his two mini boxes of chocolates, and his two cards. He payed for his order. While I was handing back his receipt I told him, "You saved sixteen cents. Have a nice day." As we both were walking towards the exit he handed me a $10 bill. I was slightly hesitant to take it because I know we can't accept tips. But I said, "Fuck it. It's free money". Took the bill, told the man "Thank you."and again "Have a nice day" upon his exit.

 I walked back over to U-Scan to pick Brock's brain and asked him if he wanted to trade positions again. Of course he tells me "Yes!". I don't know why I thought otherwise. I went back outside for a few to assist Marco until he told me that he he'll be leaving soon. I looked at the time "6:28" it read. I thought about Brock inside and about how much I didn't wanna be outside anymore.
"Don't hate me. But I'll be right back"
I grabbed my water bottle out the cooler and ran through the crowded parking lot like I was on the High School Track team again. I literally bolted out of there. I saw my manager and began talking to him while I was out of breath. I asked him if it was all right if me and Brock traded positions again.
"I don't care. As long as someone is in here to run U-Scan."
"Cool! Thank you so much." And I bolted to U-Scan.
We switched off and that was that. My night went smooth and so did his.

I was scheduled to get off at 9:00. But since Brock was out covering my shift I had no choice but to wait inside on U-Scan while the tent was being cleaned and cleared out. I literally stood on my feet for 8 1/2 hours that day. No breaks. No lunches. No food in my belly. No notthing. All I had that day was a bottle of Aquafina. I'm not trying to starve myself or anything. I just simply didn't have anytime to eat. Finally it was 9:45 and Brock ran to me from wherever he was.
"Thank you so much. I really appreciate what you did for me today."
"You're welcome. And I appreciate what you did for me these entire three days."
Brock is my new crush. I'd do anything for him. And from the looks of it, he'd do anything from me too :)

I thought that interacting with Brock and receiving a $10 tip for going above and beyond was the highlight of my long day. I was wrong. It was my Papa Clint.

I walked in the house and greeted everyone with my usual, "You miss me?" Nana and her husband Sylvester jointly and enthusiastically greeted me with, "Happy Valentine's Day!" I laughed with my back to them scowering for food, digging through the giant chocolate box, and thinking about my day. "Yeah. Happy Valentine's Day". After finding eatable goodies, I placed my plate in the microwave, and walked towards my room to get out of my work clothes. Nana and Sylvester was sitting on the forrest green microfiber couch watching the 70" inch flat screen TV. As I walked past them, Sylvester stopped me and handed me a mini box of Russell Stover's chocolates.
"Happy Valentines Day!"
"Oh you was serious?! I thought you were playing" We all laughed. "I wasn't expecting anything. Thanks!"
I was out of my mind in shock. That was the sweetest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. Just then I had an ephany. Valentine's days wasn't necessarily for your other half. It's for family memebers too. Apparently, Sylvester brought all the women in the family chocolates for that international joyus special day. That would explain all the chocolate treats that was laying around on the kitchen island.

Not a bad day after all.

Facebook Status 2/14/11: "Bit off all the ends of my chocolates so I could see what's inside. Where the hell is my V-tines chocolates map, Russell Stover?!"

Monday, February 14, 2011

Red Lobster

I woke up at 1 PM, got ready for work, ate two cupcakes I had leftover from Friday, drank some water and I was off to work my 2:30-9:00 shift in the tent. Yes the tent.

As I stated before, I work as a cashier at the grocery store. Exciting stuff. Apparently the company pitches a huge party tent every year for the Valentines overflow. The tent is stuffed with candies, flowers, latex balloons, HUGE mylar balloons, cards, chocolate covered strawberries. You name it, they had it, and I was there in the belly of it.

It was an hour into my shift and my stomach was angry. All I had on me was a bottled water. Oh. I forgot to mention it was 77 degrees out. Yeah. No big deal, right? Not in Arizona. Our 77 degrees felt like 87 degrees today. I was out there blowing up balloons with my back to the sun and I swear to you that the entire back half of my body felt like it was tanning. It didn't help that I was wearing black slacks either. My legs were baking. But, luckily for my allergies to pollen, my friend Brock switched positions for me for the day (and the day before). I worked his shift inside while he worked my shift outside. But this blog isn't about that. This blog is about the Red Lob.

I love Red Lobster! It all started when I was a toddler. My mom used to eat there all the time and I remember her feeding me leftovers. At that moment, a seafood lover was born. So when I got this text from my cousin, Mikki at 3:35, I was a little heart broken. "You workin'? We meein' at Red Lobster." Not to mention, really hungry. I really wanted to go. So I text her back, "I'm at work...working." Which I really was. That tent was packed! (This was an hour before Brock came out to cover for me.) Mikki texted me back, "Aww. Sawry". Which I'm sure she was not because I know her mind was set on grubbin' on some Red Lobster. Then I had a light bulb moment. I text my Nana. "Since y'all eatin' at my favorite restaurant without me, could you buy me a plate of seafood pasta?" It was literally hours before I heard from her. My stomach was growling at me. It was hours before I got off. I had not taken a break. What was I to do?...I was to wait until I got home to eat something because I don't wanna charge anything else to my credit card. Then finally by 7 PM, I received a text from my Nana. "I didn't eat mine. I just got your message when I got home....You can have mine."

My Nana is like a bird. She'd eat a little bit of something and she's full. Three years ago while she was on her diet kick, she'd nibble on something and she'd be full. Someone would offer her something and she'll only want "a little bit". Then she'd nibble on what we gave her and she was full. She would ask someone to fix her a plate of food, we'd give it to her, she'd eat a few bites, and she'd be full. I'm sure you get the picture. So one day I blurted out, while standing in front of her, "Don't feed the model!". My Nana not being a poor sport, laughed at me calling her a model. Tough to believe...but uh...model was her nickname for awhile. Her fullness cracks me up. Her stomach can't be that tiny. Anyhoo. So you'd never expect what I seen when I opened her leftover container....(wait for it) was a full dinner plate! There was shrimp pasta, shrimp scampi, butterflied shrimp, a cheddar biscuit, and a partially eaten backed potato. My eyes grew twice it's normal size when I opened the container. " you want me to just take out the pasta and you eat the rest?" I literally only expected to see three scraps of shrimp scatterd over the container and nothing else. I was wrong. I got the entire feast, instead! "No. You could have it. I'm not gonna eat it."
"Ok." Gitty from excitement. "Don't change your mind. Thanks for the grub."

I ate that food like I was in prison for ten years!

My Nana is a doll. Only she would spoil me like that...Oh! And my mom too. But she still lives in Michigan. I won't get that type of treatment until she moves out here in April.

G'night, folks. I need to digest.