Recently, my city council conducted one of its many seminars on how to tackle the ‘problem’ of homelessness. Over the years, they’ve spent millions on seminars and retreats addressing the issue, but there’s been no more assistance or legislation to try to house those in need. This recent one was where they and other people in positions on importance in the city, got together and had a little roleplaying game of homelessness. They claimed to have lived a month in fifteen minutes, having had to, “deal with the issues of sustaining a family and home on min. wage, navigate public transport, deal with schools and teachers, temp work agencies, aide agencies, and the hassle of grocery stores.” Participants claimed to feel, “empty and scared,” in their fifteen minutes as a “homeless” person with monopoly money.

Well, wow, they make it out like people who do have roofs over their heads have never used public transport, spoken to or dealt with schools, or been to the supermarket. Gee, so none of these things exist unless you’re impoverished? Wowie! They must have pantries and kitchens like the Jetsons, then.
Aide agencies can be a pain in the ass because there are too many people trying to scam stuff from them, so the process to get aide, be it financial, or just food, is drawn-out and ridiculous.. in the time it would take for paperwork to get approved, they would’ve been better off temping on a job and actually making money.
The shelter here allows two weeks of shelter per person. With jobs being as scarce as they are, two weeks is certainly not enough time to “get back on your feet.” They are trying to make a situation like homelessness illegal in this town. While I know that many situations are caused by people making poor choices or getting involved with things they have no business in, I understand from past experience that it is entirely possible to be in that position without having actually been involved in any wrongdoing. [We had a topic on the forums a while ago.]

Of course, all of these rules and such are made by people who have never, “been there, done that,” and
couldn’t imagine living without their luxuries. Needless to say, fifteen minutes of playtime could not simulate a day, let alone a month, of being homeless. My city is small. I’ve met the members of the council. One of the councilwomen is the mother of an acquaintance of mine. When the newspaper published the article about the council’s thoughts and feelings of the exercise, I wanted to march down to City Hall and smack the lot of them. Of course they went out for drinks afterwards or to eat…it was just a game to them. No one thought, “Okay, what can we revamp? What can we do to house these unfortunate people?” and they haven’t for YEARS.

They aren’t thankful for what they’ve got. Their cute little McMansions downtown and along the water.. they can just afford to do all sorts of ridiculous things without a second thought, just with the attitude of, “Hah, I’m better than you, look what I can waste money on while you’re struggling to keep a roof over your head!”
Meh.

I went into work yesterday morning, having woken up scarcely a half-hour prior, very groggy and not quite functional. My dad drops me off and pulls away as I go in, when I’m approached by another server, Skip, who asks if my dad is still here.
“Nope, just pulled off.. why, what’s up?” I ask.
“Well, I wanted to have him tell Christine something.” [my mum.]
“She’s awake, we can just phone my house if it’s pressing…what’s wrong?”
“Chloe died.”
Now, I had heard the name thrown about in the restaurant and assumed she was related to someone there, but I didn’t actually know who she was. So this was probably a bit callous of me, but…
“Whom? I don’t know who Chloe is…”
“Chloe. Diane’s granddaughter…Sheena’s daughter. She died this morning; Diane had called me about some computer virus, but I couldn’t make it over. She said that it was okay because she was about to head out to take Chloe to the hospital…that she’d been throwing everything up and couldn’t even keep water down. She passed this morning…”

I am not a fan of children, especially small children. [Upon being reminded she was one of Diane's family, I remembered more of her--she was only five.] However, despite my dislike of kids, it still makes me very sad when I hear that one has died for whatever reason. Dunno why, I mean, I think the world is overpopulated, but it still strikes a chord in me. :/
But I’m not sad for Diane, and I’m not sad for the child’s mother. Diane is a petty, nasty woman and her children are little better. My sorrow lies only for the life that was lost.

As for the circumstances of her death… I don’t know why she died. No one does, yet, the autopsy hasn’t been completed. However, her mom, Sheena, and her stepdad were exceedingly negligent parents.. druggies to boot, entirely ignored their children, didn’t always feed or bathe them or send them to school.. they leave them home alone.. The school called their house one day while Sheena was in a drug-induced semi-coma wondering where the kids were, and their three-year-old answered the phone asking for someone to bring him juice because he was thirsty and mommy wouldn’t get up. CPS got involved, obviously, and Diane took custody of a couple of Sheena’s children–one of whom was Chloe. She got custody about two weeks ago, and now the child is dead.
I wonder if Diane, too, will face negligence charges. Sheena was not a mother to her kids by any means…but at least they were alive. Apparently the little one had been throwing up that way since at least Sunday. Chloe’s aunt called Diane at work and told her she needed to come home ASAP because she was very sick, but the little one was not taken to the hospital until Monday night. Wtf.
It could’ve been the flu, it could’ve been the combination dehydration/starvation [although the hospital should've done, first thing, pump some food into her little belly, damnit..], a recurring fatal MRSA Staph infection.. who knows? She could’ve ingested something that is not safe to ingest due to the negligence of Diane.

All’s I know is that it’s a sad, sad thing. And this may sound cruel, but the little one is better off that way than existing in the life and situation that she would have ended up [because there was lots of other stuff that I just didn't even list. Too long, too drawn out, dramatic, complicated, and awful]. I don’t believe in an afterlife, but at least she can be at quiet peace and never have to suffer anymore.
It was a nasty way to start a day off, for sure. Skip bought a condolence card for Diane and asked all to sign. I haven’t yet done so, because I don’t feel bad for Diane. Is it because she’s a nasty person to me? Yes, and because it is likely her own fault. Do I think it is Karma? Not quite; if it was Karma, it wouldn’t have taken the five-year-old. Skip was like, “Why won’t you sign?” I answered, “Because I’m not a liar..and I won’t lie to someone to make them feel better about a situation they wrought themselves.”

So, today my glass tilts for you, little one. Here’s hoping that you actually are at peace…since none of us truly know.

I really hate airplanes [I'm afraid of them. Yes, I know that I'm more likely to die in a car than a plane...but I'm used to cars.] but I am flying up to spend some time with Phixious for Thanksgiving. I am very excited because I need a break from my family and from work. I am flying United, no I’m not checking luggage.. I’m just gonna stuff everything into a small carry-on suitcase and a large purse. x] Mufufu.
Kinda wonder what the US Taxpayers’ money pays the TSA to do aside from harass old women and fourteen year olds in skimpy clothing, though. They certainly don’t answer questions regarding what you’re allowed to bring if you think of something that isn’t included on their site.
But yes! So happy, so excited.. I fly out on Monday morning. Might have snow on Thanksgiving which will be a first for me because we don’t get a ton of snow here. Hell, might be landing in the snow. I guess sandals won’t be appropriate foot-attire, but since they make you doff your shoes in the airport, I’m wearing them anyway and bringing sneakers.
I should probably invest in boots.

Finally hit 70 in WoW. Oh, but of course it wasn’t until the day that the expansion was released [raising the level cap to 80] that I hit 70…but oh well. I felt accomplished. Hah.

Whitening strips make your teeth and gums sensitive. This is funny, I’m finding that the supermarket’s generic brand is working better than the Crest ones. x] Only been using them four days, so no exponential results yet. They may be a little whiter now, but it might be wishful thinking, this early on. Even so, they were very inexpensive and I hope very worth it. I don’t like wasting money, but… yeah, treat for me, I guess.

Know what else is a treat for me? Lindor Dark Chocolate Truffles. Mmm. Also those super-yummy kettle-cooked salt-and-malt vinegar chips.

And even BETTER than everything, even the first…is that I will be moving around February. You get a cookie if you can guess where to. :D
+Jumping up and down excitedly.+ Finally getting out of heeeeere and away from the familiar drama and the psycho familyyyy! +Does a happy jig.+

Just before I returned to work, Diane, the manager who writes the schedule, pinned up a notice directed towards my mother but addressed anonymously. It stated that servers need to stop seating out of rotation, or ’stealing’ tables, in other words, taking tables in other sections, etc., without consent from their coworkers. Also, anyone found ‘guilty’ of this would be given a week off the schedule as a corrective measure. It said, “Theoretically, we are all mature adults here, and we should behave and conduct ourselves in a mature fashion!” [Now, that was edited to make it legible for the intelligent eyes here... in reality it was a mess and, "fashion!" was really appended by at least ten exclamation points. And the whole notice was written under the influence of the CAPSLOCK key. She ended it with, "I think those guilty know who they are and will stop this unfair behavior at once!"
My first issue with that is that a truly mature adult wouldn't have tried to be clever like that and dance around the perceived issue...they would've addressed the person they thought to be in err directly to stave off the problem at once instead of posting a little notice saying, "You know who you are, tee hee!"
Secondly...you also know that I am not a fan of my mother. However, in this case I definitely have to be on her side because Diane had a very skewed version of reality. What had happened was that a friend came in and requested her. She marked the rotational chart up front where guests wait to be sat with a marker to signify that she was to be skipped, and the other waitstaff was informed. However, one of the people who likes to cause drama went and told Diane that my mom was stealing tables after saying it was okay.
And when my mom was going off about it when she saw the posted notice, the very same woman was like, "Wow, that's so stupid!" Ah, must love fake people who kiss up to idiots.

Anyway, I started working there and issues with rotation during my shift arose. Not that I was taking, no, but that the same woman from before was cleverly trying to pick and choose the tables she judged to be good tippers and would skip me when one of those came in. I noticed this and told my shift manager, Eric [the only one who I actually enjoy working with because he's a helpful, smart person] and he fixed the issue for the evening, as it was all he could.
A few days later, the sections were drawn strangely because Diane was running shift. I only had four tables in my station which would only harbor four adults each. As the rotation went along, a party of five came in while it was my turn. Linda, a coworker of mine and a pretty spiffy lady aside, sat them at a table that would fit them in her own section and gave me permission to take them as my own. In a typical situation, that’s end of story and transaction. Both involved parties are okay with it, then it is okay.
Shortly after, while they are still out there, Diane peers into the dining room and asks whose table that is. I answer that it is mine, and she goes off about how I’m stealing tables and seating out of my own section. I hadn’t sat the door once that day, and certainly not to myself. I explained that Linda had kindly let me take it since it was my turn. Diane replies that she draws the seating chart for a reason and how we’re trying to undermine her. No, I really wasn’t.
So a while goes by and I don’t get a table but the rest of the restaurant seems full. I wondered aloud if someone had made a mistake in the seating rotation. Diane snidely replies that she altered it on purpose until I could act right. I hadn’t taken a tone or anything with her, so wth. She’s always been very nasty to me for no good reason other than she doesn’t like my mom. Well… I’m not my mom, and my mom doesn’t really care if I make money or not. So!
Shano, the general manager of the store comes in. [This was prior to the Veterans Day nonsense of the previous post] I asked to speak to him about the issue. He didn’t seem to understand why she skipped me, so I had to waste time explaining five times that she had a bitchfit over something insignificant. He tried to make it out like she was trying to help me out by ensuring I’m not overwhelmed. “Shano… one five-top? Overwhelming? I’ve served half this damn restaurant before by MYSELF. You were HERE for that. It’s one thing to ask if I am okay, but I was never asked… and according to her bulletins, skips are only applied by the server to themselves.” He said he’d talk to her about it.

Shano, however, is just of the opinion that I am a surly, flippant, uppity teenager simply because the rest of the teenagers and very young adults there are. He’s of the opinion that I’m just trying to cause a problem [which I don't get; if I was just out to cause problems I would have caused them when I worked there before]. NO… I’m really not. I just want the drama resolved, I just want to be able to work and make some money to cover the things I need to be able to cover. I come there to work, not to play High School. So of course nothing was done. Same issue pretty much repeats itself. I spoke to him again, again repeating.
Another day, I worked a daytime shift and my assigned sidework was to tidy up and stock the salad-prep area, roll my share of silverware, fill up the soda fountain with ice, etc, make sure my tables were cleaned and stocked with condiments, napkins, etc. all of which was done. Daytime Salad-prep is always clean&stock, not rotate dressings and other stuff into new containers. Diane insists that I rotate them, so I rotated the ones that looked as if they NEEDED rotation, but not all of them, simply because that is a night shift closing duty. She wrote me up for that. LOL…
The writeup also claimed that I didn’t get my ice, when I have witnesses otherwise, and that there was hot fudge on all my tables, which simply isn’t the case because I had very few icecream orders that day…and because I thoroughly clean my tables anyway.

Let me explain something. I do my job. I am good at my job; I am efficient, my customers generally like me [one lady, in fact, today, told both me and Shano that I am a, "lovely and sweet girl...that it was a pleasure having [me] serve them today,” and left a fat tip to accompany.] and I don’t bitch about it there. I am not perfect, and admittedly I will miss something, but it is often rare and often small and not even noticeable.
The servers in the restaurant, however, are not all held to the same standard and expectation. Some are allowed to get away with not doing any of their sidework just because they know Diane IRL. [Or are going down on her. You choose!] Many of those people have never had a word said to them about it in the months or year or two [for a few] they’ve been there..aside from the angry words that we-who-get-our-shit-done-but-end-up-being-fucked-over-by-lazy-worthless-pieces-of-shit deliver them. I am not trying to say, “Well they don’t so I shouldn’t,” but that if I am going to deal with such nonsense over a mistake that never even OCCURRED…then where’s their consequences?
I fucking hate double-standards.

I have seen my co-workers, in similar situations, neglect the deaf guest and direct everything to the one capable of conventional communication. I don’t think that’s right, personally, so I addressed him as a person, not an obstacle. I half spoke and half signed asking what he would like to eat and drink; he managed to choke out the word, “Coke,” and settled for pointing to one of the dishes on the menu. I nodded confirmation and scribbled it down, and turned to the lady at the table and requested her order. Before giving me what she wanted, however, she says [and very rudely, I might add], “No, he wants this,” and points to something entirely different on a whole ‘nother page of the menu.
For a moment, I had difficulty with this. He seemed conscious, sentient, and obviously able to read, and able to point out what he wants. Why would she say he wants something entirely different? At the same time, if she was actually correct, I didn’t just want to contradict or be trying of patience especially since I didn’t ACTUALLY know the circumstances of the situation. I asked her if she was quite sure, and glanced at him–he continued to point to and direct his gaze to his initial indication.
Going along with the reason I addressed him in the first place, I had the cooks make what he indicated he’d like. I brought them their food; of course she sneered at me, but he got this big grin and began to maul his food, first mouthing a, “Thank you,” to me. Later he paid the bill and thanked me again–and left a respectable tip.
So I guess I was correct in my judgment, although I almost wavered. But what would you have done?

Shortly after he had been sat, a man and his blind friend came in with a service dog. Now, I know that sight-dogs are trained to behave… but for one, I just have this weird thing about dogs in general unless I have been introduced to them and have come to know their mannerisms. Two, although it technically violates about eight-hundred health violations, you can’t refuse service to someone because of that. Having never dealt with the situation, I asked my manager, in passing, where I ought to seat them. He suggests a table in the far back corner, another table in my section. However, the rotation of tables [to ensure fair seating for us servers] was not on me…and we’d been having some issues with rotation lately [which I will address in another post]…and that table was in my section. Entirely without intention to contradict or refuse, I reminded him that that would goof up the rotation so another server was welcome to take it to avoid the conflict that would arise from that. Instead of, “Okay, thanks for letting me know,” he turns back to me and snaps and yells at me in front of I-don’t-know-how-many people that I will, “very will obey him and do as he says without contradiction because he won’t be embarrassed.”
I think you all have read enough of my bits to know that speaking to me that way does not mesh. However, I sat them, and once I got their drinks and returned to the back to do some cleaning back there, I stopped him.
“Shano,” I said. Deceptively mild, of course, because that’s just how I do things…but with increasing severity, “I should hope that you won’t dare to allow such poor judgment to befall you again; you will never speak to me in that manner EVER again. I allow no one to speak to me that way under any circumstance. Perhaps you have forgotten that I am an employee of this restaurant…not your own child, and certainly not your slave or bitch. And no amount of money, and especially not the pittance of a wage you graciously afford me, will ever give you or anyone else the right to address me that way. Get it together.” Amusingly, he mumbled out some half-assed apology that I rejected. Yes, I speak to my managers this way, but my justification comes in later posts.
Upon later handling that table, I was so happy to find that the dog was very well-behaved and out of the way. The men were polite and even apologetic over the pup, but it was quite alright. I do wish other patrons would have read the damn sign attached to the dog’s harness, though, stating that he was not to be pet while he was ‘working..’ but of course every idiot was like, “Ooh, look at the doggie!”

People make it out like dealing with people who don’t necessarily have all of the abilities that most do is so hard. It really isn’t, but the people who are lucky to still have their sight are the ones with blinders on.

It has been my experience, otherwise, that should you be experiencing something or have a medical concern and you look it up, it’s symptoms, etc., and try to get an idea of what you think it might be to bring to the doctor to narrow the list of possible issues.

Most recently would be my hospital visit; I explained to the nurses I dealt with, the physician, and the surgeon that I was concerned that it was only a cyst, contrary to my dad’s insistence that it was appendicitis..because my symptoms weren’t entirely consistent with appendicitis. They all either laughed me down or got offended that I might have a suggestion regarding what was wrong with me.
How did it turn out? Well, yes, my appendix was in the wrong spot and is probably better off gone, but I did not have appendicitis. The issue was a ruptured ovarian cyst…and due to the proximity of my appendix to my ovaries and uterus, the issue that the cyst caused affected it very slightly.

I got strep once and my family and I thought it was such. Told the doctor that’s what we thought…and instead of doing the harmless little throat swab, he argued [despite the fact that strep was in high occurrence that season around here] and just said that I was an asthmatic and gave me an Albuterol inhaler…which makes no sense because I had had no trouble breathing. I went to a different doctor, who did the test and confirmed that was what the situation was and gave me the appropriate antibiotics.

I understand in situations of someone trying to self-diagnose for the acquisition of painkillers for potentially sketchy means… but that’s never been the case. I personally don’t like painkillers, OTC or otherwise. I’m not a masochist, but I don’t like depending on medication to get me past discomfort unless it is actually fixing an issue.

I know that diagnostics are done by medical professionals, but it wouldn’t hurt to pay attention to what your patient is telling you about their body/health. No amount of med school makes you qualified to be an arrogant dick who bases their work off of blind assumption!

My wisdom teeth are currently the bane of my existence. All of them are developed, I have four; the two on the left side of my mouth are cutting in and it is a pain. There have been points in time where my jaw has become somewhat swollen because of them. I delayed contacting a dentist because, well, I’m not particularly fond of them [Why should I be? I don't really enjoy other medical practices.] and because I know the circumstances surrounding their removal is going to be a pain in the ass.
You see, I am severely allergic to the family of local anesthetics which includes novacaine, lidocaine, articaine, and benzocaine–which is found in the sunburn relief product, Solarcaine [lidocaine in small doses is used in sunburn relief stuff as well, and in things like Orajel]. I’m certain I’ve mentioned this before in a previous blog, but I just cannot come into contact with the stuff. Be it anesthetic in a dentist’s office or OTC stuff, it messes me up. I do go into what is pretty much anaphylactic shock; I experience intense airway constriction, my tongue and eyelids swell a little, I break out in full-body hives, and I feel quite toasty or run a fever. I’ve fainted once and experienced other icky effects.

I finally phoned a dentist/oral surgeon after finding one my insurance covered. I spoke to a nurse there, and I explained my situation to her. I heard her relay it to someone who she called by what my doc-to-be’s name is, and I heard him tell her to tell me that it could be worked around and that I can be put under general anesthesia for the procedure. Great! I was so anticipating getting them out, so so so very much because they’re a pain. Literally. I don’t enjoy having a swollen jaw or finding eating to marvelously uncomfortable. I had my appointment set, and I was instructed not to eat or drink [hey, i've heard this before..] for twelve hours prior to the appointment.

Needless to say, around noon that day I was a sorely ravenous beast, because I do like my food.. but I kept myself from consumption. I had trouble finding the place because, oddly enough, it was in a less-than-pristine strip mall-type shopping center.
And that’s where it began.
I go into the place, the receptionist gives me way outdated and redundant paperwork. Upon glancing around only the reception area, it seemed dingy and cluttered. Who am I to judge? My room is a catastrophe about 60% of the time. Who am I? Well, I’m a patient who has to have her mouth dealt with. And oral surgery. Things. Must. Be. Clean. But I shrugged it off and figured, “Well hey, maybe it’s meh out here because they focus on the inside being clean.”
Bwahaha.

A nurse or X-ray tech called me back to get an X-ray of my mouth and I got a glimpse of how things were kept. First of all, there were not rooms in which you were worked on, there were pretty cramped little alcoves off a hallway. Instruments were just laid out on the small counters inside these openings, not appearing to be kept in a state of sterility… medications, anesthetic, and nitrous tanks were just strewn about, evidently free for anyone to grab if they liked! The vinyl on the chairs had split, fluorescent lights flickered… it was just NOT a good or reputable looking place.

I was eventually called back for what was supposed to be my procedure, but my dentist/surgeon was like, “Er, what’s this about a severe reaction to the local anesthetics?” So I told him. “Well… how severe? Can you describe the reaction?” So I did…but like I need a sketchy dentist to tell me whether or not it was actually an allergic reaction I have [but that's for a separate rant]. He goes on to tell me that that is very problematic, because even with the sedation, I need to be numb. He said, “Well, even if you’re asleep, if you can feel the pain, you will fight.” Newsflash, buddy.. the locals don’t WORK on me because of, I assume, my allergy. I got a tooth pulled when I was eight and it didn’t anesthetize a damn thing. Fight? I’ll fight a lot more if I am conscious and can’t have anything to dull my senses. I thought there were facilities for people with my or similar issues; dental chairs with restraints?
He then tried to argue with me over my allergy, telling me it can’t be that bad…and actually tried to goad me into going through with the procedure anyway! “Are you sure it isn’t the epinephrine?” “Yes, I’ve never had a reaction.” He tries to persuade me to go through with it anyway, and then says, “Oh, but if you do go through with it, you do have to be conscious in the event of a reaction.” As if there was any chance of it getting done, it decreased. He continued to badger me about it, but I very briskly told him that I had no interest in it under the present circumstances. I mean, there was no discussion with me about the procedure or the state of my X-rays… very unprofessional.

The dentist tells me I need to go to an allergist before any further action is taken so we can see how harsh my allergy is. I’m not fond of knowingly and willingly being injected with things I know I am very allergic to, but regardless of this procedure, it is a good idea. However, if I am still very allergic, why would I bother making an appointment with a typical dentist again? They aren’t equipped, apparently, to handle it. I’ll probably end up having to go to the hospital and setup an appointment with an oral surgeon there who is equipped to handle things.
However, to see an allergist, I have to go through all this red tape as per my insurance policy… I have to go see my physician whom I haven’t seen yet–nor do I want to because he’s in the same office as my last one…who was a goddamn quack–and get a written referral from him, submit it to my insurance company, wait for them to approve it and send it back, and then I can get an appointment with an allergist. So, going that route will take me another 2-3 months, probably.

Furthermore, I am not content with the state of the office my HMO sent me to; for a doctor’s office, it did not appear to be very clean–and more specifically a dentist’s office where they deal with your mouth so much, and ESPECIALLY with what is technically surgery!–sanitary, or even really safe [what with materials strewn wherever]. I don’t feel comfortable with that situation or office, and I’m not sure that I can trust an aspect of my health to that somewhat unprofessional staff, so I really don’t think I will be returning.

Aside from that, I’m not happy about not being able to eat for 12+ hours without yielding any sort of results [you know, removed teeth?], and I’m definitely not happy about the fact that I had requested time off of work–yesterday and today–to get this done and recover…for nothing.

As soon as they told me about this product, I knew they named it for idiots. :/

Basically, it’s a little unit that has a USB connector on one side, and the socket for an RJ-11 [phone connector] on the other. You plug it in to an available port, go through the setup, and viola! You have telephone.
It’s MAGIC!
No, it’s just another version of VoIP. Get over it. It isn’t special; you’re just using your [likely cable, because it won't work with dialup, and if you have DSL, you may have to pay for a phone line anyway] broadband connection as your phone line instead of purchasing a line through the phone company. But for some reason, for so many idiot Americans, this is magic. [Learn internet, k? For srs.]

Well golly gee, are we gonna start burnin’ witches again?

No, seriously though, it has supposedly won the 2008 Product of the Year award and has been featured everywhere on TV [not that I'd know since I don't really watch TV]. For some reason though, I just don’t like the idea of it. I’ve used and <3 Skype, but not as a main line.

My family ordered it yesterday. The unit is 39.95 and includes the first year of service [each year afterwards is 19.95 I do believe], but they’re running some special that doesn’t charge you for thirty days, and in that time you may return it, no questions asked [supposedly] to avoid the charge. I’m just wondering how much this system will actually be liked by this household, as most occupants can’t login to their email half the time. It seems foolproof, but I can only imagine that I’m going to get woken up to come fix it or something or simply to my father screaming about how it sucks…even though it was his idea.

This puts me in the market for a cellphone. x] I haven’t had one in a while since my cheapy pre-paid one decided it didn’t wanna function anymore, but I don’t like the idea of being without a phone should I need it or if the power or cable goes out, we’re fucked re: phone if we need something or if there’s an emergency.
I know I will be going with Sprint, but I haven’t come to a decision on what I want to save up for. I’m familiar with the HTC Mogul because phixious has one, and I like it…tbh, I’ll probably end up getting one of those. I do want to wait for the HTC Touch Pro to hit the market/Sprint in hopes that it will lower the cost of the Mogul since it is pretty much the souped-up, new-and-pretty version of it [from what I've read, they haven't made really substantial upgrades that would make me choose the Touch Pro's price over the Mogul's]. I do know that I don’t want to rely solely on touch technology [so HTC touch itself is out]; I’m a jerk and I like my tactile keyboard. My other two, “I’m kinda sorta glancing at these but meh,” phones would be the Samsung Ace and maybe even less so, the Moto Q 9c. I don’t really want to fuss with a Blackberry, although I did almost buy a Pearl at one point. I’m pretty sure I’m going to end up going with the Mogul, though.

I’m sorry if you feel dumbed down, but it isn’t like I ever thought, “Ooh, okay, I’m gonna fuck with Kaos and make her feel stupid!” I assure you that you would feel a lot worse if that were the case…and it also wouldn’t be taking place anywhere in this community.

I’m also sorry that you lack the capability of ignoring people you don’t like, even if you don’t really have a reason for not liking them other than the vague, “behavior,” answer. Again, I don’t act in any way to make anyone feel any differently. I am the way I am, I speak as I do in real life, and if that’s too much to take, then do what you will.

I don’t feel bad.

Let me preface this that there is a writer for my local newspaper who ridicules the part of workforce that relies on tips [eg: waiters!] because he himself is notorious for being an ass in such establishments, and people who have waited on him have gotten fed up and called him out on his cheapskate bullshit [such as a $3 tip on a $65 check, etc]. He makes a point of writing sarcastic, moronic articles that can be taken as downright offensive if you’re in a position in which you rely on them as your source of income. [Here, typically, the hourly wage for people waiting tables is $2.13; your income, solely, is based on your tips; that $2.13/hr covers tax stuff--and that's all.] In fact, in yesterday’s paper, he had wrote a quite lengthy article about how, “appalling,” it is that everyone who makes low wages be tipped on the sales they bring in–like a salesman at an electronics store selling a $4,500 television. “How appalling,” he mused, “that that consumer wouldn’t fork over a $675 tip to the fellow who helped him to make the choice. Rather, this young man deserved a 20% tip for lugging it across the parking lot!” Of course, what Donnie Johnston seems to forget is that in such positions, the salespeople do get commission, especially of of big sales like that. He went on to chide people for going to banks, cashing their checks, and then failing to tip the teller, etc.
In short, this guy is an asshole. Any poor service he gets, he damn well deserves, because he likes to fuck with the people who he deals with, and when people call him out on it, he makes a little show of it. Of all the places he’s been, here, surely the people he’s dealt with have deserved better. I just pray that he would come into my store. I really, really do.

To give you a really idea of why I’m irate… how is it that I made more on a moderately slow lunch shift on a Thursday than I did on a full-ish Saturday night? On my four-and-a-half hour Thursday shift, of the like.. perhaps 12 tables I ended up having, I made $53. That’s about 25% of my sales for the day, which was rung in around $202 and change.
Even so, I had two tables of rednecks stiff me. It isn’t like it’s the first time I’ve ever waited tables, and I go wayyy out of my way to make sure that my normal sass is very much in check when I’m dealing with people on this front. Everything they needed was prompt, refills were had prior to need, they even went on to say how nice and pleasant I was. One of the two tables had the nerve to go on about how gasoline is cheaper here than where he was coming from with his wife. Oh, certainly, and in all that money you’re saving on petrol, you can’t kick me like $3-5 on your $25 check? Psh. The other table had a toddler who they forced into a high chair [it was too small, and I recommended a booster seat, but nooo... gotta have the high chair] and proceded to ignore for the duration of their stay. Seven minutes after I placed their orders to the kitchen, they interrupted me while I was dealing with another table, snapping, “How much longer is it gonna be? I’m ’bout ready to leave, this is ridiculous.” As you can imagine, that was one of the instances I was at odds with my mouth…but I told them, instead, “I can see how much longer our cook says, but I’m certain it shouldn’t be more than three or four minutes. I can box it to go if you’re in a hurry.” “No,” the man of the couple snapped, “just bring it out. I’m hungry.” I was struggling, honestly, not to tell him to watch his tone, and recommend McDonald’s instead if he needed fast food; that this is a restaurant and we don’t just have everything sitting in the back to be micro-nuked. Buuut I didn’t. Meantime, their kid is spilling drinks, hurling silverware around, shredding napkins, and still screaming…but the parents ignored him. They snap at me as I’m bringing them new cutlery that they need it–well, yeah. I was already pretty sure of what they were going to leave me before they left, but even so, I maintained a good attitude and good service. But I was right–nothing, plus a huge mess from their kid. Yay! Seriously, rednecks are so damn notorious for not tipping, or tipping exceedingly poorly. I’m pretty sure the UK and Europe doesn’t have such a category of people, but I’m sure chavs act that way in the UK, and…well, I’m unworldly and all, so forgive me. x]
But through those two tables on Thursday, I STILL made 25% of my sales.

Last night, I was expecting at least a $75 yield–and actually, I really needed it. However, there was some drama caused by another waitress who is friends with one of the managers, directed at my mom–and then inadvertently at me, just because I’m her kid. The stuff is actually baseless, as witnessed by the rest of the staff, but it still threw things off for the evening. So mom was all pissy, and that waitress skipped seating me like twice, and gave me a shitload of shitty people. I mean, this sounds bad, but generally you can see at the door what you’ll make. You can’t actually judge and treat anyone based on that, but you still get an idea. All those tables got sent to me. This is how my night went:

1. Party of 6; two moms, four kids. $62 check, plus a huge mess and running back and forth to boot. $4.65. Did I mention the kids? I really don’t like waiting on kids. I don’t *show* that, but I really don’t. Mommy wants to empower them and let them order on their own, but then, although they were supposed to have decided [that's what the extra ten minutes was for, and two wasted trips to your table..] they sit there and stare at the kids menu going, “I want, uhhhh, uhhh…” and mommy dearest just smiles, proud of them for wasting time. Or better yet, when they’re shouting and changing drink orders over each other. But mommy’s so proud of her little bastards that she forgets to leave a decent tip for the people that have to clean up after them.

2. Party of 6; all adults. Drinks maintained, carafes of coffee maintained, food was out like immediately because this was during a slow spell; EVERYTHING was as it should’ve been. They were all smily and, “Thank you, dear,” and, “This is been a nice experience!” Check: $102.12. Tip: $4.38. [I had a goddamn fit over that one.. I mean seriously.] Maybe it was because one of the party ordered this mushroom bacon swiss burger without reading the damn menu, and apparently didn’t like bacon. Great. The man who handed over the bill was all, “Ohoho, no change needed,” like he’s some fucking virtuouso of generosity or something.

3. Party of 5 seniors. Icecream&coffee, made their sundaes myself and had to brew fresh coffee too. Now, I wouldn’t mention that, but.. literally as soon as each Decaf and Regular had finished brewing, I filled cups and carafes. The cups hadn’t had enough time to really heat up from the coffee, and they insisted the coffee was cold when I took it to them. I went back, filled a separate cup, dipped my pinky, and burned the hell out of it. That goddamn coffee was hot. The 7.5 seconds it took me to get from the brewing area to their table I know it hadn’t turned lukewarm. But whatever, I made their cups toasty for them. But so, on their $34 check, $2 and the change they didn’t want to carry in their pockets. They also sat there for a total of an hour and 15 minutes after they had paid, taking a table in my section, and prolonging me from going home because they stayed 20min after closing.

4. Party of 2…and a half. Some smarmy woman, her yowling toddler, and her obese friend came in. But so, everything was peachy, everyone had what they needed, as always refills were had prior to being required, etc. It was one of the rare tables that could tell I was new-ish, but only because she overheard a conversation with another waitress. She was like, “Ohh, you’re new? You’re doing a GREAT job! ^_^!” Annnd after she gives me more smarmy nonsense and rude tones, and lets her kid make a mess of everything … the cunt stiffs me on a $34 check. It was my last table of the night.

I made $45 fucking dollars last night and I rang in like $427 in sales for the evening.

The other staff had been watching me since I am technically new, and they said that they didn’t see me slip up at all. I didn’t have any complaints. I don’t get why people have to be so fucking obnoxious, rude and ultimately, cheap. If you can’t afford to come out to eat–and that includes tipping the appropriate people as and if appropriate…and I make damn well sure it IS approrpriate–then don’t bother to come out.

Writer Donnie Johnston and others like him don’t seem to understand that people do live day to day. Well, of course not, he’s got this big farm that he rakes in loads from, and some other tripe, and he’s a staff writer for the newspaper. He doesn’t have anything to worry about. He’s one of the folks that thinks it is more than perfectly acceptable to treat people in the service industry any way he pleases. While it isn’t acceptable, he pretty much can get away with it…I mean, what can you do short of pre-empting him and fucking with him?

More people ought to watch that movie, Waiting. While it is a comedy, it conveys such a serious message: don’t fuck with people who handle your food. Don’t fuck with people who handle your car or your children. Just act right, damnit, and there won’t be any issues. But that’s just too hard for some people. Some people gotta make things so much more difficult than they need to be.