Ships in Bottles

Let's see... where did we leave off? Work. Work, work, work. Yeah. After annoying the crap out of Jeanie, she's now giving me six days straight in a row, then giving me this upcoming Saturday off. It's come to a point where we're just playing mind games with each other. She's expecting me to bitch and moan about having so many hours now, because that's what everybody else does; bitch and moan for more hours, then bitch and moan because they have too many. The look off jaw-dropped shock on her face when I asked her to give me more weeks like that was rather amusing.

I have gotten a little tired of the constant question of "how did you get that many hours" from everybody, and "But you're still a minor, aren't you?" Nobody really seems to get that I was a real pain in the ass for Jeanie when she tried to cut my hours, and that I'm an emancipated minor and actually can work that many hours in a day/week. The only person who doesn't give me the whiney "you shouldn't be able to do that" is our Union Shop Steward, and she thinks it's funny as hell that I've literally fucked up her system. She's really the only one to actually tell me that she thinks the whole thing is great, and that more kids should be doing what I've been doing.

As for stories from work, not much has really happened. I was actually scheduled to work in HABA yesterday, but Jeanie sucks a scheduling and didn't schedule enough people to work the front end, it was really busy yesterday, and three people called out. So, I spent a grand total of 20 minutes in HABA packing out shampoo and shaving cream before Artha (HABA manager) and I were paged up front to work register. Four and a half hours after we were told that we were only going to be on register for a few minutes, I was told to count my tray and go home. So much for HABA.

Some little adventures during that time...

I hate WIC. I hate it with a fucking wild fire passion. FUCKING HATE IT.

That being said...

I had this girl yesterday trying to use her WIC checks. Supposedly first time every using them, so, I was as nice as I possibly could be. On WIC, you get three months worth of checks. For example, you get one set for September-October, another for October-November, and another of November-December. You cannot use the October-November ones until the September-October ones are expired. There's a neat little thing up in the top right corner that says "Not Valid until [insert date]" and "Not Valid After [insert date]". It's usually printed in pretty clear, bold letters that are rather hard to miss. Aside from the checks, you have to have a "WIC ID". It's a little piece of paper that looks like a WIC check except it has who's allowed to sign the checks, who the checks are for, an authorization signature, and an account number. It also says, in very clear, bold letters as well, whether or not a proxy signature allowed. In this case, it said very clearly on the WIC ID "NO PROXY". Don't know what anybody else thinks, but that's pretty damn clear to me.

Okay. So, now that you have a fairly good idea of all that crap, here's what happened.

The girl sent her grandmother, who had no clue what the hell a WIC check was to begin with, to the register to do the WIC checks. Her grandmother asks her what checks to use for the orders. What does the girl say? "Oh, well, just give them to the cashier. She'll sort them out." Oh, just fucking lovely. I don't know what checks you want to use, what ones you want to save, who the crap is for, so I can't match name to check, none of the somewhat important stuff. So, I'm handed a WIC envelop full of WIC checks. I open it up to find that we had done a little card shuffle with the checks, meaning September-October, October-November, November-December were all mixed up. So, I had to go through three months worth of checks and sort them out, only to find that she didn't have a check for cereal, peanut butter, and cheese, she had gotten the wrong kind and amount of eggs, had gotten the wrong milk, and that I would have to somehow explain this to a girl who didn't seem to understand a word that came out of my mouth. This, of course, is after ten minutes of trying to explain to her that her grandmother was not allowed to sign the checks, and that there was not proxy signature allowed, and that, yes, she had to stay there until I was done with the checks.

So... after I finally got through with her, Patrick decided he had to come rub my shoulders for a minute and give me his hat while he was up front bagging. He also stayed at my register until I had gotten through my long line of really pissed off customers. "Moral Support", as he calls it.

So, that's work. Schools good. I've got all sorts of tests and stuff coming up. I have an outline due for speech tomorrow that I haven't even really thought about, and Tuesday I have an outline for a research paper due that I really have absolutely no clue what it's going on. Sounds normal enough, I guess. As for grades on both those classes, I got an A- in speech, and an A on my first essay. Awesomeness. It's all good.

Hmm... I think that's really it. Patrick is in "trouble" for right now. He was supposed to talk to my Dad yesterday and didn't, so I told him he was going to get yelled at. I told him no hug, no handshake, no arm around me, and no hat until he talked to Dad. I came home with his promise that he would call and talk to Dad when he got home, and his hat, which he still thinks Tanya, one of the baggers, has. The story behind the hat is that he was making fun of Tanya, or "Shorty", as we call her, because she is, undeniably, short. She makes me, with my whole 5'2.5", look tall. Anyway, he was teasing her about being short, so she stole his hat, and told him that she would give it to me. Apparently, he thinks that I would give it back, and decided that I was just having him on and that Tanya still has it. He still thought that when I left today.

I think that's all of this weeks adventures. I have to go load wood into the cellar way in the basement, then get my homework for speech done. Oh what fun.

Started college classes today. My first day of school, outside the home, in eight years. Wow. Yesterday, I had orientation, and am just now getting over the overwhelmed feeling.

So, the events of the last couple days...

Yesterday, my mother and I had to go clothes shopping for me, since I looked in my drawers and went, "Oh lovely! I have no decent clothes." Literally. I had three shirts that could maybe pass as decent, two pairs of jeans, a black pair for work and a blue pair for everything else, no matching socks (they sort of disappear one by one), and that was about it. So, $260 later, I have several shirts, a jacket, a couple pairs of decent jeans, a skirt and shoes. Yay.

Orientation started at 2pm, but I got there early to get my student ID (a.k.a., mug shot), and to see if I could get a ten ride bus ticket thing for going from school to work. Turned out, they didn't have the right bus tickets, so I'd have to come back later. Lovely. I was supposed to go back there today, but was sidetracked by a very amusing Patrick who decided it was necessary to stand outside my last class for half an hour and wait for me. Anyway, orientation was rather pointless and boring. The welcoming speeches were long winded and put most of us to sleep. I probably would have been sound ass asleep by the end of it if I hadn't been stuck between two babbling girls from the Bronx chattering about their diet pills. Really, I don't care, and please, don't expect me to.

But, after the speech and the "head count" for Freshman Seminar, Patrick hunted me down and we wandered around campus for a while, getting to know our way around. The student lounge/union was pretty nice. Ping pong, a pool table, lots of seats and an arcade... what else do you need? The gym is about worthless. It doesn't open until noon, and is only open until about seven. They suck just a little.

So, that was Orientation. I found out that, besides Patrick, there are about four other people from work going there. That's somehow comforting. I was a little afraid there wouldn't be anybody I knew there.

On to today...

I got to the school at about 6:30 since I have to go in when my dad goes to work. After finding where all my classes were, I hunted down my Math professor who had just gotten there to tell him I hadn't gotten my math book yet. He very cheerily said that it was fine, just to see him after class so he could run off the homework for me.

To be perfectly honest, I was really dreading my first class. 8:30 in the morning, I had math. I suck in math. I'm a complete and total dunce when it comes to math. But, my professor was excellent. Kept everything upbeat with a sense of humor to everything. So, for the first time ever, I can actually say that I'm looking forward to math. That's amusing to me.

After that, I had Psychology. What a complete shift of gears. Going from Pollack's class to Hersh's class is going from a fast paced, upbeat class, to a slow, dry, rather boring class. I'm sure, had Psych been my first class, it wouldn't have seemed so dull. But, to be perfectly frank, it dragged. It's amazing how long an hour and fifteen minutes can be, and he even cut the class short. Blech.

Patrick and I met up after I got out of that class. My Comp. class was right next to his English class, so we hung out while we both waited for our classes to start. He was cute. Stumbling over his words trying to get them out, asking what my last name was, what my middle name was, what my full name was, where I lived, why he had never seen me around at the grade school here, what my classes were this semester. Mostly, everything he asked yesterday in a different form, which I found thoroughly amusing. Apparently, he got out of his English class a half hour/fifteen minutes early, and instead of going to his next class, stood out by the steps waiting for me to get out of my Comp. class.

Anyway, my Comp. Professor was really good. Looks like it's going to be a challenging class, but a fun one. I'm really looking forward to it.

But, anyway that was today. Tomorrow, I have Freshman Seminar and Speech. Should be fun. Busy day, since I have to work right after classes. Nothing quite like being kept busy.

That's all for now. Homework to be done an all that good stuff now

It's horrible, but that's the thought that's been going through my head all day. This weekend, on top of all our slimy, nasty, filthy, smelly, bug infested city visitors, we now have the normal traffic for the town fair, and slimy, nasty, filthy, smelly, bug infested hippies.

This weekend is the traditional weekend for the original Woodstock. Lovely. So, we have very confused, slimy, nasty, filthy, smelly, bug infested, don't-know-their-ass-from-a-hole-on-the-ground wannabe hippies asking where Woodstock is. Me, of course, being the ass I am and getting thoroughly fed up with the question, started directing people to the town of Woodstock, which is actually in the completely opposite direction of where the Woodstock festival was held. If you really want to see the difference, get a map of New York and find the town of Woodstock.

Got it? Now, find Bethel.

I'll wait, go ahead.

If you really don't feel like doing that, here ya go.

"A" being Woodstock, "B" being Bethel. There's roughly 70 miles between the two, give or take.

Try biking that, bitch.

That was my amusement today in between the Hasidic, snub nosed pigs and grumpy "I'm being invaded" locals. The smelly man dressed as a wizard on his tricycle, complete with bell and a strange, bedraggled little dog in a basket was also rather funny.

I just about jumped a Hasidic ass who made his wife who was at least eight months pregnant carry two cases of bottled water, three bags of groceries, AND his bag of shit while he talked on his cell phone and didn't even lift a finger. I understand that women aren't completely incapable of doing things, but, really, we can't do everything. Apparently, I insulted him by asking Justin to help her out the their car. But, really, I don't give a shit. I am so fed up with how these people treat their women that they can go chew on glass and hot coals for all I care. Justin came back inside after helping her, and he was completely shocked. He started bagging for me and telling me that "You just don't do that to a woman" and how "these people are just wrong." But, there's not much you can do. I still get pissed off at them.

I insulted yet another one later on in the day (I seem to do that so well). He didn't even realize it until after he had left, at which time he came back in and cried to Jeanie about it, who played dumb. He decided I was being biased because he didn't get a discount. M'kay... maybe it was because he didn't have a discount card? I don't know, but that sounds like it might be the reason. Anyway, he started going on about how he was Jewish, directly from Israel and that I was just anti-semitic, blah, blah, blah, blah. So, I went, "I'm Sorry, Mr. Tanenbaum. If you take it to customer service, Mr. Tanenbaum, I'm sure they'd be able to assist you. Have a good day, Mr. Tanenbaum." Try putting these two names together: Avi Tanenbaum. That was his name. Yeah, direct for Israel, with a quick stop in Germany first. He finally left, then came back in to bitch at Jeanie, and after he left again, Jeanie and Madia came over to my register to ask the same question: Kate, how the hell do you piss them off like that? I'm just good like that.

...s'pose I was just a little on the malicious side today, but I DON'T CARE. I'm sick and tired of these people invading my town, messing with my people, blocking my roads, and just generally upsetting my life for four months straight. Sure, I'm being a bit on the possessive side. Bite me... after you leave, of course.

*Sigh* It's the End of Summer Pissed off Local Syndrom. Just about everybody who lives here year round has it this time of year. It usually goes away, oh, about, Labor Day weekend, when all these people LEAVE.

Anyway, I think I'm done bitching for now, so, I'm going to go chillax for the rest of the night. Woohoo.

This week at work, I was told something by one of the few girls on the front end that I get along with that earned the response of, "Aw, that's so cute!" closely followed by "you've got to be shitting me" as I proceeded to hit my head on the register, drop a stack of baskets and start laughing hysterically at myself.

The something?

Patrick, the only cart boy I don't think is a wimp, wants her set us up.

Patrick is the store goof-ball, with a sweet, semi-mature and very chivalrous side to him. He's the sort that will open an automatic door for you while wearing a hat that says "Fire Me Please" on it and his name tag declaring him as "Superman". I don't know, but there's something endearing about that picture.

The extent of our interactions are as follows:

In passing..
"Hey, Patrick. How ya doin'?"
"Pretty good, Kate. How are you?"
Followed by a brief handshake while we both went on our merry way.

Sure, I've done my fair share of hair tossing and girly smiles when I knew he was watching, but he's also done his fair share of showing off with an elaborate show of pushing more carts than the other guys when he knew I was around.

What led up to him telling Rachel to set us up? Well...

On my break, I went outside to sit on the bench since it was nice out, not too hot and there was a nice breeze. Rachel and Patrick were already there, and I gathered later that she was in the middle of trying to convince him to follow up on a dare to go out with her very strange cousin, a very spacey blond girl who wears nothing but purple. Seriously. But, moving on, I sat down on the end of the bench, taking off my apron and tie. We then proceeded to make fun of the other cart boys, each other, and just generally be silly. Good fun on a fifteen minute break. I don't know what I said, but apparently, I said something that he found incredibly sweet and amusing. He spent the rest of the day inside "helping the guys in grocery" while, surprisingly, being nowhere near the department he was supposedly working in. Instead, he made sure he was around to shake my hand every time I was off register, making excuses to by drinks at my register when I was on it, and take baskets from me.

So, while I was getting a basket from underneath Rachel’s register, she teasingly goes, "Patrick likes you!"
Me: What?
Insert me hitting my head and dropping the stack of baskets and start laughing.
Rachel: Patrick likes you.
Me: Aw, that's cute... you've got to be shitting me.
Rachel: No, really. After you went to punch back in he said, "screw setting me up with your cousin, and set me up with Katie."

I still think that's adorable.

So, good day at work today. I was on register for a grand total of two hours... spent the rest of the time doing returns, which I will definitely have to do more often. Fun stuff and you don't have to deal with annoying little old lady's and good little Jewish boys buying titty magazines (there's just something about that that's priceless). But, my buddy's from maintenance (somehow, they're just all cool) were all teasing me. My little Hispanic guy was there doing grocery shopping with his son and goes, "Ah, my amiga, you work too hard." That seems to be his favorite thing to say to me, usually with a shit-eating grin on his face. Then, the other guy who I torture to no end because he has a crush on me and it's funny to watch him get uncomfortable and that confused, beat look on his face, told me that I was all over the place today and that he was going to start counting every time he saw me. Unfortunately, that was toward to end of my shift, so he had only gotten three in the twenty minutes I had left. My "amigo" came up to me after a while, laughing, and told me for the millionth time that "You have him beat, Senorita". They're all funny. I don't think the one guy has ever called me by my name, it's always been "Amiga" or "Senorita"

What else at work... Oh, I had a older lady come to my line who sounded like Sid the Sloth from Ice Age. Seriously, she did. I had a really hard time not laughing. I don't know if she really talked like that or her dentures were just falling out. I really don't know. It was amusing though.

Adam has finally figured out that I do, in point of fact, know where all these neat little nerves are and will, without hesitation, use this knowledge to my advantage. Today, he thought it was necessary to follow me around and poke me in the shoulder. So, I turned around, grabbed his hand, then pinched the back of his other arm where there is a nerve that hurts really bad if you pinch it right. He decided that I'm a bit tougher than I come off and that he wasn't going to bug me anymore. It'll wear off, just like it did after I put him wrist lock, but he won't be there much longer (11 days, and counting). So, that's him.

While it doesn't seem like a lot, I was actually busy all day today. It was fun though. Really just shooting the shit with all the guys while I put things back where they belonged was really... refreshing, I guess. The guys are so much more fun that the girls are. They don't talk about braking nails, hair appointments, the hot new guy in school (well, one does, but we won't talk about him), or any other, silly, stupid, girly things. I'm sorry, but when you mention camping, you get a "Oh, FRIGGEN COOL!" from a guy, but from almost every single one of the girls in that store, you get, "I've never been camping. It's dirty outside." Well, no shit, Sherlock. Seriously, I had one of the girls say that to me. She had never been camping because it was dirty outside. Hmm. That's a girl with a serious problem... I think. But that's just me. Don't get me wrong, I get along with most of the girls on the front end, but it gets a little awkward being the only tom-boy out of 18 girls at any given time. I mean, really, I'm the only girl there who will come in with dirt under my short, boyish nails because I was digging up something in the garden or yard. I'm the only girl there who will come in with rough, dried out hands and bruised knuckles from beating a punching bag for an hour. I'm the only girl there who will come in without having brushed my hair in a couple of days. Makes me stick out just a little bit.

So, that was work today. All in all, it was actually kinda fun. Amazing, but true.

Other, big news: I'm a College Kid now... flat broke and all. Took the ATB test yesterday (Friday), and did really well on it. I was worried about the math since I'm a dunce when it comes to numbers, but it was all stuff you actually use. I got a score of 96 on it. In writing I got a 117, and in reading I got another 96 I think. Or maybe it was 92. Can't remember off hand, but it was still good. I was so proud of myself. But, I go back to the college next Friday morning and pick out my classes. I'm going to be enrolled in the 24 credit program, so next summer, I'll get my GED. Woohoo! I think I'm still in shock. I'm going to have to talk to Bev at work to see if I can pick up more hours because I'm kinda going to have to pay for quite a bit now. We have to get another car on the road for me, so I have to be able to at least pay a big chunk for that, insurance for that, be able to put gas in it while helping out with college tuition and books. But, we'll find someway of working it all out.

I think that's all the news here. The parents are turning the lights out on me, so I should probably drag Black Jack's lazy rear up to bed and go to sleep. Night, all!

I have something to say about the cart boys at our store: They suck and can be outdone by a girl. Seriously. Yesterday, they all decided to bugger off at the same time: right when it was getting really busy. It's somehow circulated around the front end managers that I'm a "hard little worker", a "tough little girl" and the "man of the front end". Hmm... okay. Whatever. So, they sent me out to collect carts.

Now, our pussy assed little cart boys struggle with four carts. I was pushing between 10 and 15 (the parking lot was a bit of a mess) and was fine. That's sad. And funny, it felt good to actually WORK, not stand there going "do you have price plus card or any coupons, ma'am? Do you want this double bagged? Paper in plastic? No, ma'am, we're out of that, but if you go to the courtesy counter, they'll give you a rain check" in my little girly, polite, stewardess voice. Some of my little vet buddy's saw me out there and went, "WHY AREN'T YOU AT YOUR REGISTER? I didn't like the girl they had at the line I went to. They should have one of the guys out here doing this!" I really didn't mind doing it, but I had to point out several times that we didn't have many guys scheduled, and none that constitute as men. Oops, did I say that? Shame on me. But yeah, all my regular customers were very put out. Oh well. One of my buddy's from maintenance, a little Hispanic guy who's working two jobs, was going on lunch, saw me, stopped, and goes, "Oh, you work too hard my little amigo. I be back in half hour. I work outside then."

Amy came out after a little while, told me to go back on register, then after about ten minutes, told me that I needed to go back outside and push carts because the lady she had doing it just "couldn't do it". In reality, the lady doesn't work. The word "work" isn't in her vocabulary. She's one of our baggers, and she can't even do that well. After pushing a grand total of three carts, all separately, she goes, "Oh, I'm tired, I need to rest my feet." Amy came out again and bitched her out.

"Are you on break?"
"No."
"Then you need to go collect carts."
"But I'm resting my feet."
"That's what break is for. Go push carts. From here I can see about ten of them. Get moving."

Precious. Personally, I think it's about time somebody told her to get to work. Just my opinion, but I actually have a work ethic too. That usually helps a bit. One of the "men" was sitting on the bench in front of the store, and is bitching about how I had all the carts all mixed up, so, I started being a sarcastic bitch to him, because he gets on my nerves just a little bit.

"Why don't you do it then?"
"But, I'm on lunch."
"So? I'm supposed to be on break right now, and it doesn't make me incapable of working. And, you apparently can do it so much better."

It went something like that for a few minutes, until he went inside and avoided me for the rest of the day. Well, what can I say? I'm a bitch.

I just about jumped a little Floridian lady. Condescending little bitch. They like pointing out that this is a rather poor community, especially compared to Florida. They just LOVE rubbing that in. I really have to restrain myself from asking them where they think they're social security comes from. So, this little old lady attributed a girl working outside collecting carts to it being such a poor town there and what a shame it was. She went on a whole rant on that while my little "amigo" was sitting there shaking his head and laughing. "Ah, senorita, do not let them get to you." Gee, thanks.

But, I think that's it for now. Gotta go get ready for work.