I Should Know Better By Now

No, really, at my age, I should really know better than to engage in to an argument with a woman I don’t even know.  I’m not saying that an argument with a woman is unwise, or even unwinnable, I’m just saying a person needs to bring a sack lunch because he is going to be there for a while, that’s all. I’m sure there are a few people who know my predicament, or not, that’s really not the intended point. Yes, I’m about to fill y’all in so you can see my innocence in this particular argument. But then again, if only one side is allowed to speak, is it actually an argument? We’ll see I guess.

So, I was at the mall, yes an actual mall, where I was in the process of fulfilling a very specific list given to me by my wife, who figured if I was already going to Sears (in the mall) that I should save her a trip and me some money. Seemed fair enough at the time. I started in Sears, looking specifically for a certain kind of cutting bit for my router. I bought one like 15 years ago and it is just worn out, so I need an exact replacement to continue making the moulding I was making. Standing in front of the bits I took mine out of my pocket to compare it with a new one. When I believed it to be a successful match I put mine back in to my pocket and headed to the cashier. Before I get there I’m cornered by two Loss Prevention Officers who demand to see the contents of my pockets. After show and tell was over I was released to go pay for the bit I came to buy. As I’m leaving and heading into the mall I hear a woman telling someone that the man who was stealing tools is getting away. She jumped out of nowhere and ended up in front of me, pointing and yelling for me to stop. “Bitch, what in the everloving fuck are you doing?” Was about all I got out of my mouth before the manager showed up. Meanwhile, with this bitch still going strong I showed my bag, receipt, and my worn out bit. Finally I was free to leave.

Next I went into Sephora to get make up powder for my wife. Easy enough, I have a picture of what I’m getting and luckily I happened to walk in right where it was being displayed. Boom, bam, done, heading to the register. When I am paying I look up to see the same dumb bitch from Sears staring me down. She was now following me I think, but I could be wrong, maybe. But now she’s creeping me out a bit. So, I leave there and headed over to Bath and Bodyworks.

After a few minutes in this store I look up and this crazy stalking bitch is right in front of me. Me being me, I engaged in a somewhat sarcastically polite conversation about stepping in dog shit and how the smell seems to still be around even after a thorough cleaning. She asked me why I would tell her something so disgusting and I explained that it how I’m feeling right now with the way she just shows up where I’m at, like the stinky shit smell. Well, those would be the last words I ever got in. I waited in line with her explaining what an asshole I was and how I don’t fool her because she watched me steal from Sears. The sales lady even offered to call mall security for me because she just would not shut up, I declined, apparently because I was afraid of being busted.

I walked around the mall for a while, not really looking for anything in particular, just heading back to Sears so I could go home. As I passed the greeting cards store I see her in there so I ended up right beside her. I see she is looking for a condolence style card and I couldn’t help myself when, outloud, I said “I’m not sure if they sell I’m sorry for being a cunt all the time cards here” as I smiled and left. I don’t think I have ever heard such a big sigh in my entire life as I did at that moment in time. And then, wait for it, silence, nothing but silence. In turn, I chose not to poke the beast more and went to my car to go home.

I Do Really Hate Getting Caught

I do really hate getting caught, especially when what I was doing wasn’t actually wrong or Illegal. But, as it stands, last night I got caught getting my tips from the club last week ready to go to the bank so I could pay some bills today or tomorrow. I will explain the money part of that in a bit because I know someone is going to ask about it. So, yesterday evening all the kids were gone, dinner was on the grill, and I remembered I needed to go to the bank. Now, I don’t keep secrets about money from my wife, she knows I make a decent amount in tips bartending. She knows I also get a paycheck, she knows I’m a 10-99 employee as well which means we save 20% of my earnings to pay Uncle Sam in January. What she has yet to figure out is why a bartender in a full nude strip club is paid what I get paid. But, the money is the reason I am there. I can’t help it I am able to negotiate what my time and services are worth. A while back, when I started back, I agreed to work Wednesday and Thursday nights, roughly 30 hours between the two days, for $1200.00 since I knew I would be paying my own taxes.

Plus, as bartender I keep ALL of my tips, but I also get 5% of the tips to the waitresses, and 1% of the tips from the dancers. Doesn’t sound like much does it? The stack of money on the table represents my tips plus the additional tip outs from the dancers and waitresses. The bundles are $100.00 if you are counting. Since I report and pay taxes on this as well, it all stays well documented. Which, is what I was doing last night when my wife came strolling into the dining room, home early from work. She had a surprised look on her face, like I just showed her a sasquatch body laying on the table after varmint hunting. Needless to say, she wasn’t ever aware that at anytime during the week there is a similar amount of money tucked away in the safe. Then the conversation got ugly. Supposedly I am hiding it from her because she has been unaware. I tried to explain it all goes to our joint checking account, minus what goes to a separate joint savings account for taxes. Still not believing me I had to get my tablet so we could explore the last few months of Wells Fargo deposits. A new bit of information came to light that I was unaware of, she doesn’t pay attention to the account balances. How the hell not? Well, seems that since I have always been the monthly bill payer that I would let her know if there is a problem so she never worried about it.

Yet, I am the one being told I’m hiding money from her. I still can’t wrap my head around it because it seems like a bizarre way of thinking. Then, this morning it hits me, its because I am the man and she is the woman, therefore I am automatically wrong. But, I have a frugal wife, she is not a spend-o-holic, she believes, as I do, that we will want to take trips, pay for college, and still one day retire. So, I have no complaints in that department. No other department either really, perhaps the jumping to conclusions part, but we argue and communicate very well with each other. In the end, we spent a few hours in the hot tub drinking margaritas and not talking about work, money, or our worries. We just sat there butt-ass naked enjoying each other’s company under the partly cloudy sky listening to the hum of the margarita machine churning out the next batch. All and all, after dinner, the hot tub, and the excellent margaritas, we went to bed with smiles on our faces. She mentioned this morning that I’m still an asshole but she still loves me.

Why Doesn’t Politics Or Religion?

Postal Customer Fucktard

We all know I do allot on eBay either buying or selling which involves me making a trip to the local post office at least once a week to mail out packages. This post office has had the same business hours for as long as I can remember but that never seems to please the impatient I’ll tempered big mouths who make the choice to be a bitchy fucktard. Y’all know her, she is the one pacing in line like a nervous first time mother cat. Each moment that passes one can hear her claws digging into the flooring through her flip flops. Why? Because in eyes, in her tiny little mind, her time is more valuable than anyone else’s time. Fuck you, cunt, wait in line like the rest of us peons. According to the clock on the wall it was 8:58 when the steel roll up door started moving, signaling to us in line that the postal employees were about to begin with the first customers in line. This morning there were two lines, the one I was four deep in that the people were buying something or shipping something and the other line which was for picking up packages and bulk mail which is where the twitchy big mouth bitch was standing, she was sixth in her line. She saw a problem, three people doing the outbound line and nobody tending to her line. The USPS employee closest to her was now hearing about it. Every single person in the post office could see and hear this very polite employee trying to get the lady to just push the button for the service bell. The bitch wouldn’t have nothing to do with it, yelling now, annoyed for some stupid reason, she demanded the employee’s name and to have her supervisor appear at once or “the shit was going to hit the fan” because she doesn’t have time to speak with somebody so low on the totem pole.

As fate would have it, I’m next to be called up, lucky me I get the poor employee who was getting all the verbal abuse, which is funny because she is still behind one person. In reality, both lines were actually moving quite swiftly in my opinion as it was only 5 minutes after 9 now. I was mailing 7 small flat rate boxes to 7 different states so mine might take a few minutes. Then the hitch is next in her line. The first thing out of mouth was that she had a big problem with the black woman with a mouth that won’t quit. The black woman being the employee assisting me at the moment. When he wouldn’t repremand the other employee on the spot she started in on her once again. Verbal abuse, racial slurs, postal innuendos, and even took a jab at her weight. Meanwhile, with a rather large smile, she continued to process my packages, only 2 more to go. Then, out of the blue, my bullshitometer had peaked and I found myself turning to the loud mouth bitch and asking her sternly if she “wouldn’t mind shutting her fucking pie hole for the remainder of my timenim the post office” and then it was on. Here we go, fist fight in the post office! Blah blah blah blah was all I heard at that moment, she demanded my name and that I be thrown out because of how I spoke to her. When she was denied by me and the supervisor, she informed us she was calling the police. A quiet voice a few people back in line spoke up and said “don’t bother, I called them a few minutes ago when you kept on verbally attacking everyone”. For thirty seconds she was silent and then was on her phone talking to husband I assume yelling and cussimg loudly so everyone could hear and brought up that I verbally abused her. Well, now I am done at the window, and I turn to leave, stopping briefly in front of her, and told her while I took her phone out of her freshly manicured claws ” that she was done here, right now, she needed to get the fuck out of everyone’s face and out of the post office before I was forced to assist her”.

She left, I watched her get into her little Mercedes convertible and speed away. I handed her phone to the supervisor and apologized for my own behavior. I left my name and number in case it was needed for later. He reached out and shook my hand and told me he is damn glad that her performance, both audio and visual in color, had been recorded for review. Then I left as well because my business was complete at the post office. Did the police ever show up? Not while I was there. Did she retrieve her cell phone from the post office supervisor? I don’t know and really don’t care. Why do dumb cunts act like the world revolves around them? How anal can one person really be? I really don’t like people like her because she is a bitch just to be a bitch. In reality, I should have kept my mouth shut because I probably could have gotten in some deep shit, but I didn’t, and to tell y’all the truth I really don’t regret it at all. There was no point in what she was doing, what she was saying, or how she was treating the innocent postal employee. The deep dark side of me hopes she had a terrible accident after she left. Which is wrong, I know. I do, however, wish those two women to meet once again somewhere else because I promise you the postal employee can take her in no time flat.

This is a perfect example of why I don’t go out in public much, stupid fucktards really irritate me for some reason. The older I get the harder it has become to self police and keep my big trap shut when needed. Some people just suck, and like this lady, she has made it in to a fine art. There is no reason possible to need to treat people the way we all saw. It is a want, it is a desire, and she wants the attention to focus on her. I have pity for her husband and kids if she has any. I bet their life is just one fuckednup bundle of blissful madness. So, writing this helped me work through my morning. I was a little pissed earlier today but now that I am done writing about it I feel much better. I have said it in the past, this blog is my therapy, because talking out loud to myself has always proved to only scare the people who see it. Lesson of the day, don’t be a royal bitch just because you can, make the choice to keep your mouth closed occasionally. Most of all, treat people like you want to be treated. That’s it, I solved my own puzzle, she must get spoken to as she speaks to others, perhaps at home, so she just let’s whoever the next unlucky person be the point of all of the anger. Also, this is why I am not a therapist, because I wouldn’t be able to refrain from keeping my mouth shut to the whiny self centered fucktards on the planet. Oh well, I will just keep on being unemployed for now, seems to be working wondrous for my nerves and keeping my blood pressure down low. Anyway, thanks for dropping by and giving my ol’ blog an look see, I really appeciate everyone who visits.

Our Jobs As Teenagers

My 17 y/o daughter and I had an interesting conversation over the holiday break which sparked my daughter’s interest into looking at what other teens make per hour at their part-time jobs. I tried to explain to her that she was very lucky making $10 per hour as well as only having to work 20 hours a week. She is actually pretty damn lucky because her part-time job is working at the church daycare as a teacher’s aide. She has had this job for a little over a year and half. She has never had to work at a fast food place or a place of retail so she knows nothing about how it actually is in a real marketplace for employment. She is lucky in other ways as well, like every bit of the money she earns is only earmarked for things she wishes to spend it on. She has no bills with the exception of putting fuel in her truck. In my opinion, knowing how I grew up, she is extremely lucky she can spend her paychecks as she pleases. She is smart with her money to a degree, she always puts some away in her saving account. She has a hard time comprehending that “most” teens her age with a part-time job are only making $7.25 per hour and work in less than ideal conditions sometimes.

She says I was lucky as I explained to her what I did for money when I was a teen. I made what I thought was decent money at the time back in 1983 because that is when I really started getting paid. I worked with my dad who was a concrete contractor for many years before for basically spending money but never anything to save. I learned many skills working with him that I still value to this day. I was never afraid to bust my ass working in the Houston heat & humidity and not see a dime for my efforts. When I needed money all I had to do is ask, well, most of the time. As the summer between 8th and 9th grade approached I had already obtained my driver’s license, I already had a truck (rebuilt from parts from the junkyard where I found it), I was dating, and all I needed was a part-time job to pay for all the things I wanted to do. Back in 1983 the state minimum wage was $3.35 or something like that per hour. Where I lived teens had a limited choice to part-time employment like working at a fast food place, the theatre (an old singleplex), the car wash, a grocery store, or out on the farms and ranches. My dad offered up $700.00 per month cash (over the summer) to keep working with him and when school started back up it was going to be $350.00 a month cash. Doesn’t seem like much by todays prices, but back then the money would last me a long time. So, no, I never had to go get a minimum wage job while in high school.

The conversation evolved back to today and the struggles over the minimum wages at fast food places. This is where I was told my asshole side came out to play. My daughter wanted to agree with the fight, the fight to change paying employees at least $15.00 to flip burgers, get my order wrong, and waste my damn time. Oh, wait, the money paid isn’t supposed to reflect the quality of service you receive now is it. More money does not mean the skill level and caring just went up. I think it’s a joke. And, no, I don’t know the struggles of the people working in that industry or any other for that matter. Plus, I’m not a fast food eater, mostly because I hate paying for shitty service, shitty attitude, and shitty food. No, you may not argue that everything would be better if these poor mistreated people made more money. You’ll never be able to convince me that paying $15.00 per hour will make the fast food experience better for the customer, and if you believe that bullshit it might be time to re-evaluate your past dining experiences. People, in general, want everything handed to them while they provide little or no effort. Why no, right? Society has been moving in this direction for many years, right? We are victims of our own bullshit, right? Wrong! Get a job, work your ass off, work your way up, try harder than the next person, and stamp out your place in this fucking society as a person that has something to offer back besides an open hand waiting for something to dropped into it. What ever happened to “earning a living” or “working hard” or “getting a job”? They don’t exist, people just sit on the couch and wait for the government check.

I sound a little bitter don’t I? Or do I? Don’t mistake my honesty about all of this for being bitter, just consider that I’m real tired of all the people who complain but are not willing to get a damn job and when they get a job for unskilled labor they complain that they are not paid enough. I can speak for where I live locally and the teens don’t want to work. The ones that do are not doing it for weekend cash they are doing it to help support their household. Those who aren’t teens, what should they be paid? Good question since working at a fast food place is still considered being unskilled labor. I don’t know anymore, it seems, at least on the surface, that the debate will continue about minimum wage, especially in the fast food industry. I guess people are no longer happy with the opportunity to merely have a job and unfortunately in our society there is an actual need for an unskilled labor force. If people want better for themselves then they need to better prepare themselves to be in a different job market that earns more money, not ask it to be handed to them like it is today in the here and now.

So, what should be the wages, the limitations, and the requirements? Hell, I’m in my mid-40s and had to have a second full-time job to make ends meet, and that is with a wife who is employed full-time. I didn’t know all I needed to do was whine a little and it would all be handed to me with no effort on my part. This is the world we live in, everything isn’t equal and nor should it be equal because we all don’t offer equal qualifications and/or work ethics. Be assured that the government will be forced to increase the minimum wage because of all the political pressure that is currently being applied. And, sadly, when the enablers get their way, we as a society, will once again take a few steps backwards. Where does the extra money come from? The consumer will be having the wage increase passed on to him/her through everything they purchase which is soon going to mean that what I make an hour won’t be enough, according to the same standards. Yea, I know, I can speak until I’m blue in the face and still get told I have absolutely no argument. Well, this has been my opinion and I think it will be a giant mistake and the people being served at the local fast food restaurant and at other places which use unskilled labor will soon be seeing a cost increase because the labor still has to be paid for by employers.

Where do we go from here? In my personal opinion, I think that this will just be another nail in the coffin for any business, large or small, here in the United States. Many places already operate on a shoestring budget just to keep the doors open and make some profit after paying the bills. Your right, fuck ’em. Why should I care what people are getting paid. Part of me thinks about the amount of blood, sweat, and tears it took me to get where I am at today. Part of me dislikes it when anything is just handed over to those who are not willing to earn it. I was raised different from that, I was raised in a manner that made me realize I needed to be able to provide something in exchange for compensation. I raise my own children the same way and not look for the free ride. Hopefully I’m alone in the way I raise my kids because if so then this next generation of people entering the workforce are truly fucked. I wonder what would be dropped in my open hand being a white male, 45, skilled, educated, and currently employed. Anything extra for me? I didn’t think so. But I already knew this fact. Anyway, as a society in the United States, we keep throwing money into the burning caldron, before long the people like myself that actually have to earn a living will be out of money and there will be no help, there will be only dust in the bankrupt coffers. Too melodramatic?

I never wanted to be a millionaire, I still don’t want to be a millionaire, and I doubt I will ever want to be a millionaire. Why? I like my life and the people in it. We work hard for what we earn and live a lifestyle which has been great for all of us, all too much money will do is corrupt what we consider to be perfect. Y’all may think one’s life revolves around money, I used to think the same way, but when you have nothing it always brings a smile to your face when you can put a little aside for a rainy day. I’m not saying the minimum wage is accurate, but I’m not the judge of that either, and it is called “minimum” for a reason. The only place people can go when they are on the bottom is up, many people acknowledge that the journey will be long and hard, others prefer to demand something without offering anything more in return. As much as we would all like to think we are worth our weight in gold, the reality is that if we were then we would no longer have value. I’ll leave it up to y’all because y’all should make your own decisions based on your individual opinions. The minimum wage is out of the hands of the “people” and will always be decided by politicians who take only their status into consideration. Fuck it, roll the dice. I hope everyone gets what they are expecting.

Silence!