Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Disjointed Wednesday!

Well, Hello Google and Helloooooooo Chandler Arizona! Ah yes, Chandler Arizona, home of Dave's Parents (last I knew, anyway), is where the latest big-fun-Google hit came from. The search was for "mardi gras girls beads breasts tits." Well Woo! Someone in the UK also found me by searching for Clay and Debbie Salsa, which admittedly sounds rather interesting. Clay does make some bitchin' Salsa, I'm kinda proud to have my name tagged-along on that concept. Heh. Sorry, I know I was really reachin' for it on that one...


That "pfb" stitch that I was fighting with last week came pretty easy, then later on, I had to look up "ssk" just to be sure. When I Googled for it, I found this other lovely site with video; it was easy as could be, and I decided that since I was actually getting the hang of the stitches, I'd ditch that clown-vomit yarn and start all over again with black and white.

And I'm fully fascinated with where it's all going:


The Twenty gets its orange paint this weekend...


The Twenty is one of the things that keeps me from leaving this job at a dead run. Yesterday I was so frustrated that I just got in the car and left before we'd even turned the signs around and locked the front door -- but not a word was said, so I guess it wasn't a big deal. I just figured that after I'd been alone on the counter while that damn drunkass spent twenty minutes in the can, I was just as important and could leave a couple minutes early to go meet Clay and get to Owasso in time to have dinner before 7:00. Seriously, he went in there at 5:00, we close at 5:30, and apparently there was just no way to wait. Seriously though, if I'm bad-off enough that it can't wait a half-hour for me to get home, it's not gonna take twenty minutes for it to fly outta there.


But I know, y'all listen to me bitch and gripe about that enough.


I'm not giving up on the ol' family biz just yet, but I'm more and more convinced that my next job will not involve the retail public. As entertaining as it is to laugh at 'em later, trying to help slow-thinkers understand how the telephone works is wearing a little thin. If you want to say "Hello" or "S Q Me" after every word I say, I guess it's your right -- but I don't always have time for it and I'm sometimes likely to hang up, especially if there's another line ringing while you repeat the same answer for every question I try to ask.

This morning, some ass called about a wheel; and even though he didn't want to tell me which "70 Ford" he was workin' on, and didn't want to take my word for it when I said we didn't handle anything that old, one of the things he tried to tell me was "Oh, it's an ol' Salvage wheel, I'm sure yawl got one out back there." Oh, well, God Knows, any wheel will fit on any car, right? Yeah, it don't matter what bolt pattern it is, the hubcaps cover those up... How fascinating is it that ol' jerks on the phone and young jerks in AOL Car Chat see that just the same? Oh, and if you already know everything that's here, why don't you get in here and answer these damn phones so I can go home? I know, I know, you want a five-hole sixteen-inch wheel, but there are only a couple dozen different ones when you consider width, bolt pattern, and offset. Just because the hub has five bolts doesn't mean any five-holes will fit over 'em, but hey, if you think they will, and you'd rather tell me you're "sure there's one here" than tell me which bolt pattern yours is, then why bother with the phone? Just hurry on over here and get one, and since you're so sure I don't know what the hell I'm talking about, I'll head on home as soon as you get here just so the place will be in better hands.


It's not all bad, I promise... (I'm sure that sounded a lot like puttin' down my hockey stick and climbing down off the roof.) I hope that guy who picked up the Merc differential this morning has a blessed day, 'cause he was a blessing to me, and I'll bet he didn't even know it. The little things mean a lot; on a morning when I'd been fighting to stay calm & professional, it was so very nice to deal with somebody who smiled, acted polite, swapped a check for a recipt, and chatted about how nice the weather was as he opened the tailgate of his red (rare) Jeep pickup. Seriously, it's so nice to get an easy one every now and then, and I'd rather lift heavy things onto tailgates for a couple dozen friendly decent people than lift one phone to my ear for another rude know-it-all dumbass. That's part of why I want to drive the truck -- I won't have to answer phones for people like that, I can smile and be friendly while lifting heavy things off tailgates, and I'll be more efficient running deliveries becuase I know without a doubt that I can get to Tulsa and back faster than you-know-who since hey, if I do have to stop at QuickTrip to use the bathroom, it's not going to take me an hour to get-er-done.


Have I mentioned my iPod itch? It's almost as bad as the MacBook itch was... I want one. I really really want an 80GB Video iPod, especially now that I ran onto the software to rip movies for it. I'm waiting though, because I'm just sure there's something new coming. I just bet there's something coming, and if I bought one now, there'd be an even bigger one come out in a couple weeks. So... Maybe by the time I'm finished paying off this MacBook... Just maybe...


Disjointed as it is, I can't think of much else I wanted to get out of my head...

More later... Peace, Love, and B-32! _\,,/

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