My son will be the first person to say I have a very, very, low tolerance for any degree or variable of bullshit. He will even go as far as saying I have a very active BS Meter (bullshitometer) which is represented by my left eyebrow. The higher the eyebrow goes represents the depth I believe of the bullshit. He, for one, chooses to step far away if both of my eyebrows get active. Why am I going into this at this point? There are a few reasons that have caught my own attention here the last few days and now that I have had time to reflect a bit, I would like to share.
We can start with Tuesday when I received a call in reference to a job I applied for online. I always have tried to check out company details prior to applying to get a better grasp of what they do overall, to include checking the BBB (Better Business Bureau) for complaints and kudos. This particular job was for a delivery driver who delivers custom architectural wood designs to a variety of builders and customers alike. Sounded interesting so I applied on Monday afternoon, along with about 50 other places. So, Tuesday’s call was a welcome surprise for me. The call came from a “staffing agency”, no surprise there, most places use them to select employee candidates, but not recognizing the number, I let it go to voicemail. After listening to it I called them back. They began by wanting to give zero information, just a time and place to meet for an interview. I asked about three things not mentioned prior, wages, hours, and position requirements. I was told that the information would be covered extensively in the interview. The interview was yesterday, in a Starbucks, about thirty minutes from my house.
First of all, I was just given an address, so I went to that address, this is when I found out it was a fucking Starbucks. I was instructed to text a number provided to me when I arrived and to wait outside the entrance. Very cloak and dagger, the bullshit flags were already flying by the time I got there, but I went anyway. I was met at the door by a stunning brunette, mid 30s, dressed very business like but very sexy like as well, very distracting if you ask me. Overkill on her part, but pleasant on the eyes in my opinion. She offered to buy me a coffee of my choice, of course my choice seemed disappointing to her, because I ordered an ice water, a $5.34 cup of ice water to be exact. And y’all wonder why I hate Starbucks. We sit, she slides her chair towards me, she opens her folder, and immediately starts talking. After a few minutes I sensed that this was way fucked up, she was trying to sell me an investment opportunity in an insurance company to become a licensed broker. When I finally stopped her from talking and quite literally asked her what in the fuck she was trying to pull, she began to explain, somewhat, and vaguely. Seems “Ms. Rice” was part of a recruiting team who screens candidates based on resumes that come into their office for alternative positions other than what they applied for as a gesture of good faith when the position applied for has been filled already.
Needless to say, we were done, way done, what a cunt, what a fucking scam. Sadly, two of my other applications were done through that same staffing company, at least now I know. So, pissed, disappointed, pissed, and now very disillusioned, I get back into my H1 and go home. When I pull into the driveway I get a call from the staffing agency which went to voicemail, explaining they are sorry things didn’t work out in the interview earlier and hope “we” have better luck in the future. WTF? In the future? There isn’t a fucking future with them. That takes big balls in my opinion, bigger balls than I have for sure. I need to send them a go fuck yourselves bouquet of dead weeds so they understand just how appreciative I am that they wasted my fucking morning all to hell and back. On the plus side, the stunning stripper wannabe who bought me the water reminded me that sometimes wolves wear wolves clothing to catch their prey, note to self indeed. What did I learn? One, that my bullshitometer works just fine and I should have listened to it from the get go. Two, this is about the tenth or twelfth time that someone contacted me for school loans, grants, insurance, government assistance, and other crap when all I want is a job, not more bullshit grief. And three, anyone who chooses to meet up at a Starbucks for anything already has a few screws loose and shouldn’t be trusted.
I forget what else I was going to mention, so I will conclude this post with a message. My true curse is I don’t trust people, but people are my biggest curiosity, and because of that I subconsciously always scrutinize everything, calling bullshit when it truly is bullshit. Don’t get me wrong though, there are some truly amazing people on the planet who can’t be washed over by the truly amazing liars the walk beside. Anyway, I’m still looking for a job, so I better get back to the hunt. Thanks for stopping by.
I have always wondered what T.S.O.T.S.B. (this blog) looked like being viewed by someone else besides me, and now I know that Rexi and her feline companion have a very dirty little secret. Well, since she placed it on Facebook, the cat is, well, out of the bag so to say. Not that she keeps her cat in a bag, I hope, but I’m just saying.
So, seeing this picture gave me an idea, yes it is scary when I get ideas on my own, but it happens, even to me. Anyway, the idea is more of a challenge for readers here, but its just for fun, there are no prizes, no fame, and I promise not to make obnoxious comments. Here’s the plan, I want y’all to have my blog pulled up on your PC/laptop/tablet or your device and take a picture of it. Then, email it to me. If you wish to be anonymous or use and alias or just put no reference, just let me know. If you are proud, leave your blog name/URL and I will include it in the post.
So far, Rexi has y’all beat hands down right now, her picture includes her bored to sleep cat, which I suspect is the reaction most people have as well.
At best, many of the younger readers here have never had the opportunity to ever own, what is now considered, a piece of iconic history, something we used to call a “boom box” or a “ghetto blaster” back in the day. And, if you are wondering, the picture above is just such a relic from my younger years, this is what our “portable music device” looked like. Many, like this one, could be plugged into a wall outlet or have the ten (10) D size battery option. But, we could take our music, carried separately, to play anywhere we pleased. But, enough about my very vague history lesson, that’s not what this post is actually about, it is partly about how we personally like to hear, listen, and feel the energy our music choices.
So, anyway, y’all may have read that I’m unemployed once again, boo hoo me, so I decided to go out to my shop and “piddle about” for a while, listen to my heavy metal music loudly through my ear buds plugged into my cell phone. Its not an uncommon site to see me, yes even at my age, having my music playing directly into my head, cooking off brain cells left and right, for the pure enjoyment of it. As a bonus, it blocks out the “noise” of the world around me. My wife calls my music my “security blanket”, I call it bliss. Let’s just say I have enough digital music on my devices (two devices) that if played straight through, 24 hours a day, I wouldn’t hear the same song twice or repeat for around 27 months (that’s just shy of 20,000 hours of music). Now, add in that I have over 100 eight-track tapes, over 300 vinyl albums, 200 plus cassette tapes, and somewhere in the neighborhood of 450 plus audio CDs. And yes, I have ” old school ” devices from back in the days to listen to it all. Anyway, I was looking for an old wood chisel set buried somewhere in the shop storage closet to clean up some detail work on a old mantel piece I rescued from this last place I worked for the two weeks. It was a beautiful piece of hand tooled wood that was replaced with a more modern piece of polished marble. Anyway, I saved this 7′ behemoth from the dumpster, knowing I could bring it back to its original 40’s glory.
As I dig, I move shit from here to there and there to someplace else when I find the antique wooden box (circa early 50’s) that had been passed down from father to son a few times over the years, sitting on a shelf under something covered in an old sheet. Lifting the sheet revealed my old boom box. I quickly became sidetracked, yanked the sheet off, and took the old friend out to the work bench. When I plugged her in all the lights came on and everything, I don’t think it has had power put to it since ’99, so I was impressed. I noticed a cassette tape in the in one of the spaces, pressed play, and out of the speakers came, very clear I might add, the voice of Ronnie James Dio, singing “Don’t talk to strangers”. I was transported back in time, to another era, to the day I bought this cassette, upgrading for mobility, to have another format besides the vinyl, that could be played on the go. Do you remember going into music stores just to browse? The musty dusty smell of a place where every generation was welcome and had a place? I sure do, very fond memories indeed. There was certain satisfaction, an anticipation if you will, of walking out of the music store, not being able to wait to get into your room, close your door, and slowly open your new music. And then, then the feeling when you pushed play for the very first time, a virgin tape no longer, hearing the pre-song static, and then, only then, would the sweet music of your choice start leaking out of the speakers, I call this moment one’s musical listening climax, because now you can lay back and just listen. Too dramatic?
Needless to say, the ear buds were out for the rest of the day, as I listened to Dio many times, front and back, never skipping a song, it was a bliss amidst the chaos for me, I was consumed with it, I even caught myself smiling a time or three remembering the past. Funny how music works that way, funny how music can change one’s mood almost instantly, and funny how when life blows or life glows, I turn to my friend, I turn to music. A few of y’all will understand me and the rest of y’all are still scratching your heads. Read the caption in the picture below, if you understand it then you know what I have always known. And, thanks to Rexi, I borrowed it from her Facebook wall, I thought it would really bring my point home.
Now that I have that song stuck in your head for the rest of the day, let me tell you just how small a world this really is. Let’s start with the fact I started a new job recently, those of y’all keeping up may have noticed my delinquent behavior here at the blog, and with every new job there is a fair share of “new hire” paperwork that has to be done. At the point when I started mine, given to me by the assistant, I realized I new her, I couldn’t place from where, but I knew her for sure. Its not a case of de ja vu either, I knew her from somewhere. It will come to me sooner or later is all I can think. Later that afternoon, after leaving work, I stopped by a strip club which was right up the street to inquire about a part time, evening, maintenance position I came across is my job searching the week prior. I thought if it were for a few hours each night it might not be a bad gig since it was a half mile from the other place. When I called, the manager said to just come it at my convenience and we could talk.
I went in and asked around for her at the bar. I was asked to have a seat and she would be out shortly. My eyes were drawn to the stage for a moment because all strip clubs are not created equal by no means. Then, a dancer caught my eye, I mean really got my attention, I had to get a closer look for sure. I got that same feeling from earlier in the day, this was truly bizarre to say the very least. When I approached the stage it hits me, like a ton of bricks kinda hit, all asses are not created equal either. It goes way beyond it being the girl from my new job, its deeper, a few years ago I had met her at the club I was a bartender at, she just didn’t show up one day, and that was that, it happens with strippers. When she turned around and saw me looking up at her she just grinned and kept going, never missing a beat. I headed back to the bar where the manager was now waiting on me. In the end, I did not take the job. Why? They wanted a janitor to clean bathrooms, not a maintenance guy. Before I left I looked for her now that she was done dancing, but never did see her, so I left.
The following morning I was bent over a pallet on the floor loading it out for delivery. Between my legs I noticed she was standing directly behind me. She squatted down beside me and asked if we could talk a second. She talked, I listened. She explained she recognized me right away the day before, but didn’t think I recognized her which is why she didn’t say anything to me then. After going down memory lane about the things she would do on my bar in my plain view and sometimes with my assistance, she asked I not mention where she works or what she does to the others. Um, okay then. Before she walked off she tells me that anytime I come by the club to ask for her because she would make sure I had free lap dances that I wouldn’t soon forget. Interesting proposal, but I doubt I will be going back, lap dances are the least of my worries in life.
Fast forward to this morning, a morning without a happy ending, but one I saw coming a mile away. To say it simply, I was let go. Why? I was hired on the contingent that I would have my Class A CDL in a timely manner. I was doing my part over the last, now two weeks, to get it, in fact I posess my learner permit now, which I got this past Friday. You see, I have been studying my ass off for this test, for this job, but they had other plans in their agenda. They hired a driver, no wait, no muss, no fuss, and they no longer had a need for me. OK, yes, this is bullshit, because I applied for a warehouse position and was being paid that of a warehouse worker which was to change at a future date. Whoops, I missed the memo that they hired someone else for the position which I did not have the credentials to fill. To hell with it I guess, I didn’t like the 55 minute drive anyway to get to work. Plus, with the new laws I wasn’t 100% positive I could get the medical part of my CDL requirements because of being an insulin dependent diabetic. There were allot of factors that could’ve fucked me in the end, so I look at it as the silver lining in the cloud. This just might have saved me allot of heartburn because there were many unanswered questions about it all. It us what it is, tomorrow I start the hunt for a job again, hopefully the next one works out better. No worries though, I’m like Tigger, I gots allot of fucking bounce left in me.
Just wanted to share, I will post an update this weekend with any luck at all. So far so good with the new job.
Doesn’t everyone wish they had cheerleaders to help them celebrate the small victories in life? I know I do, but settle for the ones in my head. Anyway, if y’all read a few posts back about my dumb luck then this news will not come as a surprise to y’all. If not, go review and come back. When I last spoke of the job, well I was only considering it, as if tomorrow morning I start my new job. Yes, I’m happy, and yes the money will come in handy.
What does that mean for my blogs? I don’t know yet. I will assume I won’t have the time during the day to jack around here so that leaves the evenings and weekends if I did the math correctly. In reality, I know my next few months are going to be packed with studying so I can get my CDL reinstated in a timely manner. Not to worry, I have no intention of shutting either blog down or letting them get covered in dust. All I can do is hope that I will have the time and energy to do what I like doing here. No worries please, I’m not abandoning y’all, just getting back on track in life, that’s all.
So, anyway, I just wanted to warn y’all the inevitable day has arrived, don’t be skeered because I’m not, I’m actually pretty damn excited about it. Y’all know I will continue to find things to write about or otherwise post, its what I do.