Details of the Asshat Neighbor

I left off with the Restraining Order after the douche bag trespassed on our property because Boyfriend asked him to keep is damn dogs quiet.

In our research for all of this court stuff, we have come to discover the true identity of our neighbor. We know his name and the names of his wife, two daughters, his son and his grandson. We have also discovered that he is, in fact, a pastor - at the local Pentecostal Church. His predecessor is currently serving time in prison for child molestation. His oldest daughter is just 21, has a two year old and another on the way; possibly divorced as she has a different last name but lives with her parents.

Boyfriend's Grandma works with someone who knows a Pentecostal who attends this church. Evidently they pay for their pew in church. Some people have to borrow money, refinance their homes or whatever, to pay for their pew for the year. They are what some might call the "holy-rollers" - the kind of church where they raise their hands, some fall to the floor while caught in their love for God, believe in the "heeaaalin' power of the lord" and in some cases, play with snakes.

 

Sort of explains the fact that he lives in a million dollar home and wears alligator boots. Courtesy of his parishioner's so it would seem.

We also know the name of his church and exactly where it is. In fact, when Grandma filed her complaint with Adult Protection Services, she put his work (church) address and phone number, considering we don't know his house phone.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am all for everyone believing what they wish. Our neighbor has every right to attend or minister the church of his choice. What I have a problem with is the fact that he's not abiding by the county ordinances regarding barking dogs. I also have a problem with his smug and I'm-better-than-everyone attitudes. Just because he has found Jesus and believes in the healing power of Him doesn't give him the right to be an asshole and encourage his dogs to bark, trespass on other people's property, and bully everyone into silence.

Grandma actually tried to file a Restraining Order against the pastor since he bullied her and trespassed on our property, but she couldn't afford the $425 filing fee. So that didn't happen.

After finding the chain to our pasture gate cut and finding a dead chicken, the only thing the Sheriff's Office would do was "recommend surveillance cameras and motion lights". So Boyfriend spent $300 on security cameras and positioned them around the  property. We have caught nothing but our charming selves doing yard work for the past three weeks. Although the other day we found one of our three "no trespassing" signs ripped off the fence. It had been screwed in and the screws are still in the wood.

I called the Sheriff's Office last week after the dog had been barking for five hours and the deputy kept telling me to call Animal Control. I was quite persistent in stating, "We're caught in limbo here. I call you to report a nuisance and disturbance of the peace and all you can tell me is that I need to call animal control because your office doesn't respond to barking dogs. I call animal control and because I live outside the city limits it's an unmanned office with ONE person manning it. I'm lucky if I get a returned phone call. They don't do anything because they have higher priority abuse cases and the like. What the hell am I supposed to do?"

His response? "Call animal control during business hours."

My fucking taxes pay your fucking salary asshole. Thanks for upholding the law and keeping the peace.

Anyway, back to the good pastor.

We've also discovered where the "dead dog" is. Tonight, standing on the front porch, we saw one dog on the front porch laying in front of the door. We kept hearing barking, but it wasn't the dog on the front porch. The good pastor has a kennel in the back, which is where the other dog was, barking his head off. It would seem that we've only been seeing one dog running around and that he's trying to "hide" the other dog.

Somebody's trying to be sly.

Next time I really will tell you what happened at last week's court date.

Introducing Our Neighbor

I sit here, watching The Hobbit with Boyfriend, enjoying our house. Things are hung on the walls (most of them). We have tons of eggs in the fridge thanks to our chickens. We're learning to remember where things are in the kitchen. Boyfriend cleaned up the garage the last two days. The wood we've gotten is 6split and stacked.

While we are enjoying our new house, there is one thing we are not enjoying. Our neighbor across the street.

It began the week we moved in - their dogs barking incessantly. One night, they barked non-stop keeping Boyfriend up between 1am and 4am. Finally Boyfriend was fed up with the dogs on our property (yep) barking incessantly that he went outside and chased them back home across the street. He knocked on their door and eventually the wife answered the door. Boyfriend asked her nicely if she could keep the dogs on their own property and quiet and she acted all bewildered and had no idea what he was speaking of. He replied with, "You can't hear that?" pointing at the (still) barking dogs. Nope, she apparently couldn't hear it.

A couple days later, the husband came over after getting home from an elk hunting trip to discuss the incident, dressed to the nines and wearing $1000 alligator boots. And by discuss, I mean using his 6'6" frame to intimidate Boyfriend into never ever scaring his wife that way again as she is ill. (Like Boyfriend was supposed to pyschically know that.) Boyfriend is not one to be intimidated, and therefore, got back in the guy's face telling him that his dogs bark incessantly. The neighbor said, "Dogs will be dogs and they'll bark. I also like them barking because it keeps critters away." Boyfriend clearly stated that his dogs barking like that are a nuisance and there are laws against it, and that he's simply asking that the guy keep his dogs on his own property and quiet. He questioned how Boyfriend knew they were his dogs, and Boyfriend replied with, "You have two Chesapeake Bay Retrievers, correct? Your two dogs have been getting into my yard, attempting to bother my chickens, pooping all over my yard, and barking at me while in my yard. By law, if your dogs are threatening my livestock, I have every right to shoot them. I don't want to do that. I'm simply asking you to keep your dogs quiet. You're argument that 'dogs will be dogs' is not a valid argument. It's a bother to your neighbors." After a few choice words (started by the neighbor), the neighbor finally said he would do what he could.

About a week later, that dogs were barking incessantly during the evening, for three hours straight .As a side note, it amazes me that dogs never seem to go hoarse. Boyfriend and I decided to go over and talk to them about it. Off we went, knocked on the door, and the daughter answers. We politely ask if she could quiet the dogs as they've been barking for three hours and we can hear it through closed windows and over the TV. She crosses her arms in front of her, gets an extremely pissy look and says, "Dogs will be dogs and will bark. I can't make them stop." I asked if there was a pen they could be put in, or put in the garage for a bit until they quieted down. That wouldn't work either. Boyfriend tried talking to her for a few more minutes and she got pissier with each minute. Because it was dark, we had walked over with a flashlight. Boyfriend began to turn Italian while talking and at one point, the flashlight smacked the door. It was by accident, but that's all it took. She started hollering that she was going to call the cops.

I dragged Boyfriend away. Back home, he left a message with the Sheriff's department regarding the issue. Two hours later a deputy calls back and Boyfriend has a lengthy conversation with him. He told his side of the story, and the deputy eventually told Boyfriend that the daughter called claiming she was scared for her life and that of her toddler. When her dad got home, he also called the sheriff. The deputy told Boyfriend that he does have a right to shoot the dogs if they are bothering his livestock. And asked us not to go back over to the neighbors house.

Now, when the daughter drives by, she stares at us, makes rude faces and flips us off. No joke. And the guy just stares at us when he drives by. Nice.

The worst thing about all of this? This neighbor is a minister. He's unlike any minister I've ever known. Now granted, I don't know very many, but I have never met a minister like this. He has shown us absolutely no respect whatsoever. We both admit that he has made an effort to keep the dogs quiet, and we do appreciate it. When he's not home however, his wife and kids don't give a shit.

And as it turns out, the entire street hates him.

To be continued . . . 

Oh The Tangled Webs We Weave

Wednesday seemed to go about like any other work day. Except there was a training meeting via phone conference for about an hour or so, starting at 8. Rather boring and until we start the new process, we really won't have that many questions or really understand the whole thing. 

Bubbles was her normal self - her utter cheerfulness infecting all those around her. Meaning the complete opposite of course.

I did my work throughout the day, finally coming to a point about 4pm where I didn't have anything to do. I had been working on doing some clean up on my "schedule" (pestering people as to why we haven't received payment), and had walked back in and heading to my desk when L asked me what I was doing. I replied that I was working on my schedule. She wanted to see what I had, which wasn't much as I've been keeping a close eye and it's been only one page long (when I started it was 3 pages) and I had addressed anything over 5 days old. I told/showed her and then asked her if she had anything I could help her with as I was pretty much done for the day. She said she had a project for me. Made me happy as I like to stay busy and didn't want to told to leave early if I didn't have anything to do.

I went to my desk to put my papers away and went back to L's desk so she could show me what she wanted me to do. She was looking to clean up our inventory online and make sure it matches what he physically have. As she's going over all of this, I saw an email notification pop up in the bottom right hand corner of her screen.

Now I'm not being nosy, as I was there for a reason and staring at her computer screen for the same reason. I was not snooping  or accessing anything I shouldn't.

The email was from Bubbles. The notifications also include the first couple of lines of the email. And since the notifications only pop up for about 10 seconds, I don't remember it verbatim. 

However.

What I do remember is this: "Dang! . . . . hope she'd go home early!"

I think the part I'm fuzzy on was something about me being done for the day or not having anything else to do.

Now, here's what bothers me. Bubbles sent this to L. I like L. She and I get along well and she's a good teacher. L is also the assistant office manager.

I will let that last bit sink in.

How fucking inappropriate is that? Only tons. My last hour of work I was really pissed off, but I didn't show it. I sat down with the printouts from L and set about matching what's in stock physically and online. Now, I know Bubbles and L are "friends" to a point. I believe they started at the company about the same time, and they take their lunches together. Well, to be honest, L, Bubbles, and T get to take their lunch at noon. I have to wait until 1. My boss typically doesn't eat her lunch until 12:30 or 1 and she usually eats at her desk.

So basically speaking, I am (in a sense) ostracized from the group having to take my lunch after everyone else.

Also, from day one, Bubbles has (for some reason) been quite hostile towards me. I have been chalking it up to her personality and that our personalities don't "mesh well". I am aware that  not everyone gets along, and I don't go to work to make friends. I do, however, expect civility and I don't believe I really get even that. Either that or her version of civility is vastly different than mine.

I talked it over with Boyfriend - saying I may need to talk to my OM on Monday when she gets back. As the whole situation is inappropriate and creating a hostile environment. However, if I complain, Bubbles will get talked to, and she knows exactly who will have complained. There are only 5 of us in the office, including the OM. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. Boyfriend suggested I start documenting everything instead of going to my OM. Which I will start doing. Besides, either way I still take the brunt of it. If I leave it be, Bubbles will continue to exude her contempt for me. If I make a complaint, it will only make it worse.  So really, I'm screwed either way.

Also, Bubbles repeated a comment about having to fix stuff on her "schedules" and that those problems are due to other people's incompetence and laziness. She repeated it at least 3 times. If she's referring to me, I don't know what "problems" she's speaking of. She mentioned a few weeks ago for me to watch something and I have been. I even went to my OM to verify if I was following correct procedure. So I took measures to make sure to not make the same mistakes. If there are other mistakes she's referring to, I have no idea what they would be as no one has said anything. And if they are my mistakes and they aren't telling me about them, there is no way I can stop making said mistakes. I can't learn and grow if you don't inform me and teach me.

Oh. And that laziness bit? I'm not sure you could consider me slacking on the job. I do the deposit every day, process any and all dealer trades and wholesale transactions, process contract cancellation requests, and work on my "schedule". And when I run out of stuff to do, I ask L or the OM if there is anything I can help with, even if it's just filing. I even took on the dreaded task of shifting all the deals in the filing cabinets to make room. Me? Lazy? Doubtful. She may be referring to just our company, however, seeing as I'm getting the hint that she believes I'm incompetent and lazy, I'd like to say this to her:

"You think I'm lazy? I work three jobs, seven days a week. Three weeks in, I'm still unpacking and getting settled in my new place. I'm preparing to host my first Thanksgiving. Most every night I get home about 5:30 and do stuff around the house - clean, laundry, dinner, dishes, ironing, stack wood, go cut more wood, unpack, move shit around, write stuff for my grandparents magazine, do online training for my weekend job, and spend some quality time with Boyfriend. You're only 22 years old and you have a shit-ton of things to learn - one of them is basic civility. And trust me, you're not perfect either and you don't know everything. You are not entitled to anything so you can shelve your 'I'm better than everyone else' attitude. Also? Involving the assistant manager in your hatred of me is highly inappropriate work place behavior. So fuck you and the horse you road in on. Bitch."

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to do some more unpacking before I go to bed.

Lazy, my ass.

Humpfh.
 

How To Be Asshat Party Rentee

Working in the wedding/party rental business is something I never thought I would be doing. That being said, that it goes without saying that prior to working in the business, I had no idea how inconsiderate people were when renting items. Now, not all people are inconsiderate - many are considerate. Many people actually follow the directions, and return their rented items clean and on the right day and time and tell us, "please let me know if I forgot something." Dishes and silverware, for instance, are often missing a plate or a few pieces of flatware. We simply call the rentee about it and they look again and find what's missing was accidentally put with their stuff or something. But it's typically the inconsiderate ones you remember most. Probably because you spend you free time at work complaining about the latest asshat who refused to pay for the items returned broken.

So here's how to be an asshat party rentee:

1. Don't read the fine print on the contract that you signed. Because reading it tells you that you are responsible for any and all damage to items rented while in your care. But keep on believing that if you never read it you won't have to abide by it. Wallow in your ignorance.

2. Don't return your rented items on the specified day and in the specified time. Never mind that it's all on your contract that returns are X day from blah to blah. If you don't feel like returning you trailer load of rented items for an extra day or so, it's no big deal. Those items don't need to be cleaned and re-rented for someone else's wedding next weekend. Nope. Not at all. Because it's all about you.

3. Fight tooth and nail to not pay up for items you broke. Because who wants to pay out an additional $80 or so for a 60" round table that you loaded wrong in your truck (after specifically being told not to load it in such a manner) after paying $200 for your rental contract to begin with. So keep fighting it.

4. Put staples in gazebo or wooden arches that you rented. That whole bit in the contract about damaging items and us telling you to not put staples in our wooden items was meant to be ignored. Again, no worries, those items won't be re-rented to other couples for their weddings, so really, deface our property all you want. Knock yourselves out.

5. Don't follow directions when it comes to our dishes and glassware. The piece of paper sent in roughly half the crates that go to you for your event that says, "Dishes and Silverware must be washed and clean of food; Glassware: Do not wash! Dump out liquid and place glasses upside down in crate" is just so we can waste paper. Also? We love dirty dishes and glasses with liquid still left in them because you were too lazy to dump out the liquid as specified in the directions. We love plates with food still on them as well. Provides us with a much needed snack and beverage. So thanks for thinking of us.

6. Reserve a large order and bring a mini-van or a wanna-be truck (like a Ford Ranger or the like) to fit all your 8' tables, 200 chairs, linens and dishes. Because we can totally pull a Harry Potter and package it all up in a teeny tiny box or bag and load it up with no problem whatsoever. We make sure to hire only the best from Hogwarts for your convenience.

7. Make a reservation and don't bother to pick it up. And make sure to either not set your voicemail, make sure your mailbox is full, or have your phone tell us that you're "not accepting calls" for when we try to call you to remind you to pick your order.

8. Pay no mind to the delivery agreement. We only just say we do curbside delivery but we'll totally set everything up for you at no extra charge to you. Because our delivery guys have nowhere else to be and no other clients to deliver to that day. They'll also schlep your rented items all over the place because it's much cheaper than joining a gym.

9. Also pay no mind to the fact that we ask that you have everything tore down and chairs stacked for our guys when they come pick up your order. Again, our guys have nothing better to do than to stack (or in some cases re-stack the chairs because you can't follow simple instructions) chairs and schlep your items from the back 40 because you didn't understand us when we said to have everything ready to go for the delivery guys.

10. Grill us about our delivery/pick up charges. Never mind that gas is $4/gallon and we have to pay people to drive and load and unload your items. Remember, we hire only the best from Hogwarts to fit all your rented items into a teeny tiny box that we just send to you via the floo network so that whole "delivery" thing is a total hoax.

And that's just a few ways to be asshat with your rental business, whomever they are.

Pure Asshatery: The Story of an Asshat Job Description

Even though I am working part-time, I am still looking for additional part-time or full-time work. It is completely and utterly amazing how tough the market is. I have been applying left and right and one bite I had was Macy's. I might have actually taken it, however, this is why I didn't: The pay started at minimum wage, in mens shoes/luggage (I mean, really?), commission, and only guaranteed 5 hours per week. Let me repeat that last bit for you - 5 hours per week.

Are you fucking kidding me?! That doesn't even pay my gas to drive into town and back home.

Another bite was Petco, for an assistant manager position, but they chose to hire "in house". My most recent bite was a secretarial position at my old high school. In which I got a rejection letter exactly 4 days later, meaning they already had someone in mind and had those letters sent out lickety split. Thanks for wasting my time and making me wallow in self pity and cry for an hour. I appreciate it. Because as a girl I don't cry enough.

What I am finding is that not only are some job titles a tad bit misleading, but even the job descriptions are very misleading. Because when you read the fine print, you realize there is no way in hell you are actually qualified for that job.

Prime example: In the Sunday paper I noticed a job opening for the newspaper that, by reading the classifieds, I felt I was qualified for. (okay, so I totally "noticed" it like 3 months ago) Here's why:

Clerical - 25 hours per week

The Newspaper is seeing an office clerical person to work in our operations department.

Must be detailed oriented and have the ability to use excel with a high degree of accuracy. Data entry experience preferred, customer service and able to work independently a must.

Now, forgetting the grammatical error of "detailed oriented" (I mean, seriously? The newspaper can't even proof-read their own crap?), this sounds like something I could totally do. (Also remember I saw this in the physical newspaper). So I went online to apply at their website. And it was there that I realized how unqualified I really am for this position (also? that I apparently have been misinterpreting the word "clerical" all this time). Here's the job description from the website:

Performs work within the technical area of the packaging department for production of daily newspaper packages and other products.

Key Activities

The primary processes you conduct in

Learn and understand all packaging safety rules including chemical safety, hearing conservation, etc.

Properly set-up and load the inserting machine to allow for maximum efficiencies and minimum stops, ultimately producing a completed insert package. Must understand all light settings and drops.

Properly set-up and run the sticky note machine, ensuring quality application/placement and efficiencies. (Hey! Sticky notes! I know about those! Oh wait . . . )
Properly set-up and run stitch and trim machine to produce quality trimmed standard tabs and/or pony (mini) tabs. (sewing is involved?)
Properly set-up and run the in-line inkjet printer to produce quality package with clearly printed addresses on packages.

Properly set-up and run commercial and newsprint stackers, utilizing different bucket sizes.

Jogs and stacks publications onto carts, pallets or conveyors.  (They want me to jog??)
Must be proficient in make-up of bundle keys (identification) and zone draws according to circulation manifest.

Counts, straps, and palletizes bundles of product for distribution according to manifest draws, bundle keys, or pallet tags.

Assist with daily preventative maintenance and complete associated documentation.

When/if driving, ensures vehicle is under weight, performs maintenance checks on company vehicles; logs findings and reports any problems to supervision.

Operates forklifts and pallet jacks, loading and unloading pallets and other packages as necessary; maintains department and insert warehouse in an orderly fashion.

Submits accurate, effective reports in a timely fashion as required.

Participates in monthly packaging departmental safety meetings.

Keeps packaging production area safe, clean, and organized.

Correctly handles recyclable materials (as assigned) to receive best overall recovery of salvageable materials.

Works well with employees of the packaging department and other departments.

Handles all other duties as assigned.

Education & Experience/Certifications

Generally, minimum of two years of experience in newspaper packaging department required.

Must have forklift certification.

Must have acceptable DMV report and meet state required and/or company required insurance minimums.

Skills & Abilities

Excellent problem solving and basic math skills. (Yeah, that's a big fat NO)
Excellent people skills. Must be able to work well and constantly communicate (both written and verbally).

Must be able to work in a fast paced environment and meet all deadlines.

Must have solid organizational and computer skills including good working knowledge of general business software programs.

Must be able to operate and have solid understanding of all material handling equipment including forklifts, clamp trucks, walk behind lifts, pallet jacks, etc. (Um . . . NO)
Must be able to stand for long periods of time. Must be able to repeatedly and for long periods of time lift and load stacks of insert products into packaging machinery.

Exposure to paper dust. Exposure to constant machine noise. (Dust = Mess. NO)

Um. Nice. How the fuck is that a clerical position? How do you call this a "clerical" position at all?? You're running machines and forklifts. I have been inside newspaper printing areas and trust me, what this position isn't is clerical. Just because you're employed by the newspaper does not make it a "clerical" position.

The only other semi-logical explanation is that some dumbass mixed up the job descriptions.

Either way, talk about an asshat move, local newspaper.

I Am Most Seriously Displeased

Does anyone want to know the most annoying sound in the universe?

It's not that horrific sound Jim Carey and Jeff Daniels make in Dumb and Dumber.

Give up?

It's silence.

I have been job hunting since March. I've had two job interviews in three months. Two weeks ago, one of the three staffing agencies I'm signed up with called me and asked if I'd be interested in a potential job. I said yes (duh), and she put my resume in the pot. She called me a week later to tell me that I hadn't been chosen. (sigh)

I search online for jobs a few times a week. I apply for retail jobs, clerical  jobs, part-time and full-time. I apply for weekend only positions, and anything that doesn't require a phlebotomist license and a medical billing/coder degree. I apply for jobs I see in the paper.

My parents check online for jobs for me every couple of days and the paper every day.

And in the three months of job hunting and countless (read: couple hundred) applications I have sent in, only TWO have called me for interviews.

T.W.O.

And one of those that called me for an interview wanted to badly to give me a job - 5 hours a week for minimum wage.

Are you fucking kidding me?!

I am frustrated. I am pissed. I am annoyed. I am hurt. I am perturbed. I am irked. I am upset. I am miffed. I am fuming. I am offended.

I. Am. Tired.

How do people keep this going for months, or heaven forbid, years? How? My money is pretty much gone. And if not for the kindness of my parents, I'd be homeless. Unemployment didn't pay that much, and them assholes cut me off because they didn't believe me that we lost our mail distribution center (they say it only takes three days from mail to from Redding to where ever the hell they are and in reality, it takes 10 days. TEN.) and my stuff was always late because of it. But it can't be the mail, it must be me.

I am so tired of job hunting. Of constantly entering the same information over and over and over. And over. I'm tired of uploading my resume to "fill in the application" and it gets most of it wrong so I have to correct it. I'm tired of the fact that in this day and age, you rarely have a person to contact regarding your application because businesses prefer you to apply online. I'm tired of the online assessment tests. I'm tired of having to create a "log in" for every single business I apply to because they each have their own website or they use some random third party place and I have to "register" in order to apply for the damn job. I'm tired of applying for jobs I know I can do but can't get a call back on. 

Most of all, I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of being worried - constantly worried about money. I'm tired of losing sleep - knowing my part-time job is only temporary for the busy wedding season (so through September at best) and the end of wedding season is looming, even though it only just began a month ago. I'm tired of wondering what I'm going to do if I still haven't found another job.

Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for my cousin for getting me part-time work and trying to keep me close to 20 hours a week. I'm thankful for him putting up with me at work most days of the week. I'm also thankful he gave Boyfriend a job doing deliveries and pick-ups. I'm glad to have a job to go to; something to go do for a few hours every day. But it will end at some point. And some point is just a few short months away.

I'm angry and tired. And I'm tired of feeling that way.

Handicap Accessible My Ass

Last week, I wrote a post about spending an entire Monday with my Granny in town as she thought she had a doctor appointment that day. Turned out it was in June. However, it brought to the forefront (again) how inaccessible many places are for those that are handicapped in some manner, i.e. wheel chair bound.

It depends on how far away something is as to what my Granny uses. If it's not very far, she will use her walker (that has a seat on it in case she gets tired). However, if the distance is a little too much she will use her wheel chair - well, if someone is with her to push her - because she can't walk long distances anymore.

Last week when Granny and I went to Applebee's, we used her wheel chair to get her up the ramp and inside. The distance from the handicap parking to the front door was a bit too far and she worried about the ramp. Plus we knew that the ramp inside the restaurant to get to a table was in the back of the restaurant. So I hauled the wheel chair out of the trunk. And that was also the day when the random lady too a moment from her lunch to come to the front and open the door to let  us in because it would be too much to ask that the employees be around to actually do that. Considering the doors are heavy and do not have a handicap button to open the doors, I'm going to go with they are not "handicap accessible".

One time I stopped at a McDonald's, mostly because I had to use a restroom. On my way to the restroom I saw a disabled lady attempting to open the door to the restroom. She was severely handicapped and could hardly reach the door handle . . . and you, of course, have to pull the door. Other patrons just sat at their tables, trying to ignore this poor lady. I came up behind her and asked, "May I help you with the door?" And she replied with, "Oh yes, thank you!" I also held open the handicapped stall door for her as it also a pull door. Doesn't seem so handicapped accessible to me.

The unfortunate thing is, is that you don't really notice the anti-handicap accessibility until you're helping someone. Restaurants or stores have doors that are far too heavy and if you are alone with someone in a wheel chair. Their front doors don't have the handicap button to open them. The handicap accessible ramp is all the way in the back of the restaurant. And there are some employees that just don't get how hard it is to turn a wheel chair on a dime.

I realize that "by law" these places are handicap accessible, however in reality, they are not. Law and reality really need to talk some more. Just sayin'.

Insults

Today, at work, I was insulted by a customer.

An upset elderly customer. She was upset because her puppy, Peanut, wasn't responding to her surgery as planned.

The puppy had a hernia, which was repaired on Monday.

She called this morning saying the puppy's belly was swollen and was having a hard time going to the bathroom. I told her to come straight in and we'll take a look and see what's going on with Peanut. She said, "okay."

Around lunchtime, I took a phone call, and it was this woman. I answered the phone as usual, "Small Town Vet Clinic, this is Miss CB" and her response was, "Is this the vet clinic?" I replied with, "Yes, ma'am, it is." Her response was, "And who are you?" I replied with my name. She told me her name and said that she was really upset that the doctor had "butchered her dog".

I was taken aback. No one butchered anything.

I responded with, "Ma'am, I'm very sorry that you feel that way, but it was not our intention for anything bad to happen to Peanut."

She responded, in tears, "I'm sorry you're so insensitive."

My response was, "Oh ma'am, please do not mistake me for being insensitive. Please understand that no doctor or technician would knowingly cause harm to any pet that walks through our doors. I am sorry that Peanut doesn't seem to be responding well."

She cried. Continuing to tell me how the doctor "butchered her dog".

At last she said, "I'm taking her to Davis. That doctor butchered my dog."

And she hung up.

I turned around to see my office supervisor staring at me, ready to take a bite of her lunch, with a look that said, "WTF?"

I told her what the client said, and asked if I had - at all - sounded insensitive. She said, "No. In fact, you handled that call really well. You know, that woman has been a client with us for a very long time. I'm surprised she reacted like that." Then she promptly got up and went to the doctor (the one the client complained about), told her what happened and then the doctor has for my input. She said she would try calling her to see if she could talk to her.

It didn't make much sense that she had wasted 5 hours of the day away after having called me the first time, then call to say she was taking her dog to UC Davis Vet Hospital - 3 hours away and would be close to closing time by the time she got down there. And if she were to wait another day, her puppy would be even worse off.

What we figured was that perhaps she was letting the puppy run around, which could cause sutures to break, re-creating the hernia, or causing worse harm. She probably took the puppy to another vet clinic, and the doctor there could have taken the client's word at face value, and saying that the doctor who performed the procedure had done it wrong. It seems the most logical explanation.

To my followers and friends that are pet owners: Please know that people don't spend several hundred thousand dollars to obtain their Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree to "butcher" animals. They work their asses off to obtain that degree because they have a love of animals, and they want to help. When your vet gives you explicit instructions, please follow them. No veterinarian wants to ostracize clients by "butchering" their animals, because trust me, that is no way to keep people coming through the front door. 

Remember that bad word of mouth always travels faster than good. And nobody wants that.

Remember that no matter what, shit can happen, even when you follow directions. We never know how each animal is going to react or heal after an injury or surgery.

But above all, please know that whatever happens, your veterinarian never wants anything bad to happen to your pet.

Ever.

 

What Are We Doing To Our Kids?

*steps onto soapbox*

Humans have a tendency to overreact. A lot. It's apparently in our nature. And inevitably, we upset ourselves, our society, our way of life, etc.

These days, our overreacting is hurting our children, who are innocent bystanders in this world. They are now being forced to grow up too soon because of how society works. The shootings in Newtown, CT and terrorism are huge things in America right now. Adults are often afraid because of racial or ethical stereotypes and what they see on the news. Or should I say "news".

If you've seen recent headlines with kindergartners being suspended over childhood items at school, then you know what I'm talking about. Kindergartners are 5 years old. Typically, they don't see the news headlines about the violence in not only our nation, but around the world. They are learning to color inside the lines, how to write their ABC's, how to read, and how to play with others and share. Most parents don't want their little ones to see headlines regarding school shootings, murder investigations, and that the guy who does the voice of Charlie Brown recently got arrested. Parents want to protect their kids from bad things like these. I am not yet a parent, but these things I know.

When a 5th grader gets called a "murderer" by her classmates and school administrators because of a piece of paper that she forgot was in her pocket that somehow resembled a gun (think more of a taser, really), and also gets a suspension, I think our overreacting has gotten way out of control. She's in 5th grade people, she's only 9 or 10 years old. She's fucking innocent. It's a piece of paper. If she had brought a real gun to school, then no, that's not overreacting. But it's a piece of paper that barely resembles a gun. What's she going to do, give someone a paper cut? Give me a fucking break.

This is the gun the girl had that was considered a "terrorist threat".

When a kindergartner is suspended for talking with a friend about shooting each other with a Hello Kitty Bubble Gun, I think we're overreacting. First, it's Hello Kitty. It's pink. It looks like a hair dryer. And it blows bubbles. Unless she forces the bubbles down her friends throat, I think the kids are safe. Holy crap, people. Stop and think about this. She's five years old. She doesn't know about the school shootings, doesn't understand the implications behind her words. Because she's five years old. She still believes whole heartily in the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, and Santa Clause. She still believes that unicorns exist and leprechauns. When I was her age, I would have been made to share it's use, or made sure I had enough for everyone. I wouldn't have been suspended.

Who is a afraid of Hello Kitty?

When a first grader is suspended for making a gun motion with his hand, I think we're overreacting. What's he going to do, poke an eye? OMG, call the cops! Trust me, at six years of age, he's not going to do much else with it. Maybe pick a nose. And eat the booger (hey, he's a boy, it happens). Boys do this sort of thing. They play cowboys and Indians, cops and robbers, Harry Potter and Voldemort (I'm sure it's happened somewhere). And in the first two, guns are involved. Hand gestured guns. I remember playing those as kids. In school even. We didn't get in trouble. This little boy now has a record that states, "threatened to shoot a student". With what?! His finger nail? Are you fucking serious?! This little boy was sent to the Principal's office three times in one day for making a cutting motion with his fingers like scissors (WTF?! Don't people know that finger scissors don't cut anything?!) and making "hand gun" gestures. Because the school believes it was a threat of gun violence. He's six years old. He barely understands what a gun is.

 Obviously these adults don't remember Uncle Joey from Full House.

When six year old boys are suspended for making hand gun gestures with their hands while playing cops and robbers, I think we're overreacting. They. Are. Boys. Next you're going to tell them that the mud puddle they want to splash in will blow up and kill them all. Cops and robbers doesn't work as well without the hand gun motions. Besides, it wasn't like one kid was chasing the other with a baseball bat. Just sayin'.

What are we doing to our kids? These little ones will one day run the world. Do you think it's going to help them by forcing a psych evaluation on a 5 year old for her Hello Kitty bubble phase? What about the 5th grader who had been called a murderer over a piece of paper? How will this affect her in the long run? These kids are forced to pay for some random asshole's insanity and trigger happy finger. The kids are not the problem. Their play-acting is not the problem. We adults are the problem. Our propensity for overreacting is the problem. Our lack of healthcare for mental illness is the problem. Loopholes in gun control laws are the problem.

What happened in Newtown was a tragedy through and through. But it wasn't a kid's fault. No child died at the hands of another child in this tragedy. They died because a mentally ill adult had some kind of psychotic break and he wanted to inflict the most pain possible.

A 5 year old wanting to shoot bubbles from a pink bubble blower is not the problem. A 6 year old playing cops and robbers is not the problem. A 10 year old with a piece of paper that could easily be an "L" for all we really know, is not the problem.

The problem is the adults. We're not letting the kids be kids anymore. The world is constantly changing, sometimes for the worse. But kids should always be allowed to be kids. Simply put.

The next time those schools (or any school) have an issue like this, they should make it an educational opportunity. Not a lynching.

*steps off of soapbox*

 

How To Be A Douche In Stores

It's amazingly easy to not be a douche in a store: Common politeness and courtesy.

Unfortunately, some people lack one or both.

More often, it's both. Sad.

I recently went to the wonderful land of Target. I love Target. I could browse for days in Target and be happy. If I had it all to myself, I could die happy.

Going down the main aisle, on my way to the make-up section because I desperately needed some new mascara. Because when you pull the stick/brush out and it's one large clump, it's time to let the tube rest in peace.

However, I had to take a detour.

Why?

Because evidently several people shopping ran into other shoppers they knew and promptly took up the entire main aisle. Not kidding. The entire aisle. Shopping carts. People. Just taking up important space. They were laughing, talking, and having a grand ol' time.

Shoppers of all kinds were trying to get around them. Trying to sneak through.

And these people were completely oblivious.

Even with other shoppers saying, "Excuse me" all polite-like.

Anybody with a cart had to divert down a side aisle. Like I did, because I had cat litter to buy so I needed a cart.

I hope these people are proud of their douchiness. Hope they enjoyed catching up with friends. And I hope they enjoyed their shopping experience at Target.

So, next time you want to aspire to be like them, just create a Flash Mob or have a family reunion at your favorite store and make sure everyone is in other customer's way.

 

If the Twinkie were still here, it would be ashamed

I came across this article on Yahoo! about a week or so ago (and am finally getting around to remembering to post this) that just plain outraged me. We have all heard about Hostess closing its doors for good - meaning the Twinkie will not survive the end of the world because it quite simply won't be there for it. Unless it survives in someone's pantry. Out of the reach of children. (And for the record, I don't believe the world will end on 12/21/12, but it's been a fun joke. Thanks Mayans.)

"A federal bankruptcy judge has approved bonuses for executives of Hostess, the maker of Twinkies, who stay on as the company is broken up and sold off."

What on earth was this judge thinking? Those executives made WAY more than enough money - they don't need any stinking bonuses. Those bonuses should be given to the 18,000 workers they've put out into the cold.

 "On Thursday, as part of a plan to liquidate the company and lay off 18,000 workers, a federal judge in White Plains, N.Y., approved paying 19 Hostess executives bonuses totaling $1.8 million. Hostess has said it has interest from at least 110 firms who want to buy pieces of the operation."

A company who has gone bankrupt is giving out over 1 million dollars in bonuses. To the same people who wanted to slash worker pay and benefits - and not for the first time, either. I'm failing (miserably) to see the logic in that. I'm also failing to see how that's right.

I think the only other thing that will survive is the cockroach.

"The decision comes as the company, known for its iconic snack cakes like Ho Hos and Ding Dongs, says it doesn't have enough cash on hand to pay retirement benefits to some former employees.

The bonuses do not include pay for CEO Gregory Rayburn, who was brought on as a restructuring expert earlier this year, according to The Associated Press. Rayburn is being paid $125,000 a month.

Former employees are outraged over the bonuses handed out to high ups."

Why? Oh, it's to keep them happy while the company is sold off bit by bit. Wouldn't want executives of a bankrupt company to go find new work any time soon. Oh and "restructuring expert"? Well he just restructured the Twinkie in to bankruptcy. Nice one Greg, nice one. You get a bonus for going bankrupt. I'm curious how that works? And how could you accept bonuses knowing what a douche-nozzle you look like?

"The bakers union went on strike Nov. 9, when the company imposed a contract that would cut workers' wages by 8 percent. The Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers International Union (BCTGM) said the contract would also cut benefits by 27 to 32 percent."

Explain this to me: How could Hostess executives even think that something like that would be okay? The economy sucks, costs are rising, and people can already barely afford the gas to get to work. And yet people blame the union. Sure unions aren't needed like they were when they were formed. Times have changed. Laws have changed. But I don't blame the union on this one. I blame the people who make a million or more in a year, not including bonuses.

I hope those executives are happy since they get to have their house, vacation homes in The Hamptons and Aspen, their yachts, private planes, and fancy sports cars. Never you mind about the people you screwed who now wonder how they're going to put food on the table, keep their homes and get another job in a sucky economy. Ya jackasses.

I take all this with a grain of salt, but there must be some truth to it. Even if it was just an idea, it's totally aggravating.

 

I (and other good women) have been insulted

Due to a sudden rash of "anonymous" comments, I'm now enabling comment moderation. Don't worry, no captchas to worry about, at least for now. These "anonymous" comments are complete spam, and one of them was actually quite offensive. My friend from Tilting at Windmills I know saw the comment I'm speaking about, and actually replied to the spam comment, calling the guy a "case" and stating "you're posting this on an American woman's blog".

Now, I know I shouldn't let what this asshat says get to me. But being that I've been hit with this spam multiple times, I think it's only fair that I get out my frustration.

I'm sure other bloggers out there have been hit with the "Boycott American Women" comment. I have been more than once. And to the douche-bag who posts the comment, you might want to take note of where bloggers live, and whether it's a woman's blog you're leaving it on. I'm sure that the reason you, as an American man (so you claim), hate American women is because you have a certain "type" you always go for. And it's this "type" who has used you and abused you and made you into the headcase you now are. I, however, am not this "type" of American woman. In case anyone is curious, this is what he basically thinks all American women are:

He believes that American women are mostly likely to cheat on you, divorce you, to get fat, to steal half your money, don't know how to cook or clean, don't want to have children, etc. They are immature, selfish, extremely arrogant and self-centered, mentally unstable, irresponsible, and highly unchaste.

Well. Alrighty then. Let's see, I've never cheated on anyone I've ever been in a relationship with. I've yet to be married, so I don't have a history of divorce and taking some poor schmuck for all he's worth. I have a little more on me to love, but I don't weigh a million pounds. I don't steal. I don't like to cook much, but I will. I do know how to clean. If I don't, I ask my mother and she tells me what works best. I do want children, but I'd prefer to be married. I doubt anyone who knows me would say I am immature. I try not to be a selfish person, but no one is perfect. I don't think I'm arrogant or self-centered (unless it's my birthday, but hey, it's my freaking birthday). I'm no more mentally unstable then the next person. I try to be responsible, and hopefully I am 99% of the time. And I'm about as freaking chaste as you can get, dude.

So, in a nutshell, this guy is a whack-job. And I'm sure in coming years as I continue to blog, I will be spammed with his bullshit comment about how horrible all American women are. Go find a therapist. Oh, and I'd love to see how long your mail order bride that can't speak English lasts - because it won't take long to see what a jackwagon you really are.

Thanks for insulting a GOOD American woman.

And before you ask:

 

Just so we're clear.

 

 

OH.MY.GOD.

I know the average American has their eye on gas prices. It's been climbing non-stop for the last few years. To the point where gas pumps actually cut people off at $75 (or it's the bank . . . or both) while gassing up. And for some, this is maybe half a tank. 

I doesn't cost me quite that much to gas up, but I do have an SUV, so it's not overly cheap to gas up either. It gets pretty decent gas mileage, it drives great, and it's what I use to deliver our publication on my route - so it has a decent storage capacity.

Living in the middle of nowhere typically means higher gas prices, simply because it costs more to transport it to the middle of nowhere. Living in a big city usually means high prices, because . . . because . . . there are more suckers in a square radius that need to fill up? God only knows. All we do know is that gas prices will probably cause more heart attacks than red meat.

Last weekend, my grandmother K, surprised me by giving me Mother's Day and Monday off to go visit family. On my way out of town I stopped at a store to get a bag for my mom's present, as I didn't have anything left that didn't say Merry Christmas or Happy Birthday. I saw the price of gas at the Shell station next to the store and nearly wrecked my precious car from choking.

Now, I know that our little corner of CA is not the most expensive gas in the state, but it sure as hell feels that way. Especially since the number one business in my county is agriculture, which basically means no one is rich enough to pay for this shit.

I'm about ready to start riding a horse to work. There's only one minor detail. On Saturdays, I have to drive over a 6300 foot pass. I couldn't ask one horse to take me over it not once, but twice in one day. Plus it's a pretty steep grade on both sides, the horse would probably keel over by the time we got to the top.

One of my co-workers, my Saturday tech, is trying to move over to our valley, which means, she and I could car-pool on Saturdays. Which would be awesome. 

For my three days at the Sticksville clinic, technically I could walk there, but I have a feeling that if people don't see my car there, they won't really see the "open" signs. Because by now, most people recognize my car, so if they see it there, they know we're open. If not . . . well . . .you know. And if I rode a horse to the Sticksville clinic, it would eat the flowers. Which I'm trying not to kill, thankyouverymuch.

The problem is, Americans are use to and love cheap gas. We've been spoiled. When I got my license at 16, gas was 99cents per gallon. And I know gas was way cheaper than that when my parents were kids and when my grandparents were kids. I mean, could you imagine having a coronary over gas rising to 10cents a gallon from 5cents??? Yeah, me neither.

And I know that places like the Bay Area (San Francisco) or SoCal (LA, San Diego) have probably already hit or surpassed the $5/gallon mark. I'm not jealous by any means. But I do feel their pain.

But, even though we Americans love to drive across our vast nation, take our RV out on weekends, our boats to the lake, we curb that summer traveling enthusiasm a bit when it costs you your mortgage just to take the kids to Yellowstone. We do adapt to these horrific changes. We're bitching about it the entire time, but don't miss out on the fact that we will make changes.

I can honestly say, I never thought I'd think $3/gallon was cheap. But it's looking damn good now.