MONDAY-MONDAY-MONDAY...
Work was the usual...We are switching over to a new record keeping system (to launch jan.1...that should give you an idea of how well it's going) that is woefully inadequate in the area of purchase orders and inventory control...my primary area of responsibility.
The owner has a penchant for asking me questions about ordered parts when it's time to pay the invoices...if it goes beyond my 2 week limit to remembering things purchased and why,I could pull up the information in no time in our old system and address his concerns.
This is a luxury we no longer have.Purchase orders will now be received when the ap clerk pays the invoice...weeks after the part has been ordered and installed and billed to the customer...we have a hard time keeping up with it now, I can only imagine the problems ahead.
Despite this,I am trying to be proactive and positive and figure out a way to make this retarded cousin of what we had work. It looks like I'll have to develop a manual system to track parts...a step backwards.
But,you get what you pay for I guess,and the dispatching/scheduling module is fantastic.
After lunch,we were outside smoking and the AP clerk wondered out loud what that brown lump was in the field behind our shop...was it a dog?was it dead? The cleaning manager and I decided it was a deer,but drove over to investigate.Driving across the field in my rodeo made me feel like one of those adventurer guys on the discovery channel.When we got to the brown lump,it looked at us...exposing the face of the biggest pit bull I'd seen since the ones I shot in my back yard 9 years ago.He was huge! He got up,moved about 10 feet away and lay down again.
Since neither of us have a concealed carry permit (yet) ,we decided to go back to the shop and call animal control...about thirty minutes later,animal control shows up,the dog hadn't moved...we pointed him out and the AC guy went off to capture the dog...we got ring side seats to watch the drama unfold.
He approached the dog in his truck,and when he got too close,the dog got up,moved about 10 feet away and lay down again.AC guy got out of his truck and produced a giant butterfly net(!!???this is a 100 lb. PIT BULL,with a formidible nutsack-intact!) and then a catch pole/noose and approached the dog.
The chase was on! The dog took off...not in that "oh no! it's the dog catcher" panic,but more like a saunter like he was saying "ok,I'm leaving...don't fuck with me or I'll rip you and your silly net to shreds".
The dog won,he got away...no injuries to either party.The AC guy came back to shop and wondered if there was a bitch in heat somewhere. I remembered the look the dog gave us,and then I remembered the look my old dog Buddy used to get when the scent was in the air...then later I noticed the neighbors white german Sheppard sniffing at the sky wanfully. Then I felt bad,this poor dog was just trying to get laid and we cockblocked him.
Finally the end of the day...Ann and I decided on dinner and I headed to the grocery,where it was,unfortunately,not the end of the day...all the stress and frustration that was abscent from work was waiting for me there,at the grocery store we refer to as the "third world grocery".
We are item specific shoppers,and can usually get in the 10 items or less line...commonly referred to as the "express lane"...as far as this store is concerned,express lane is a cruel,cruel joke.
This store is like a live version of the game doom...each aisle is a level presenting it's own challenge and,instead of guns and lasers,your weapons are you cart and your facial expressions.Instead of orcs and demons,your enemys are the predominantly non english speaking customers whose weapons are thier carts,their litter of unruly children running around with no parental intervention and the obvious disdain they have for you,the 40 something white guy. (a clarification here,I do not consider myself a racist...I grew up in the south around people of color,knew their families,played with them and grew up to work in diverse workplaces with harmony and an understanding that we are all just folks...I have also shopped in other stores,in predominantly white areas of town and had the same experiences...except in those cases I was the 40 something white guy who should be shopping where I belong...with that said...)
They block the ailses,they park in the middle of the ailses 2 carts abreast and talk in a language I don't understand and give me those looks...the looks are the worst thing,I try to smile and stand there,blocked,my polite requests of "excuse me" go unheeded.Oh yeah...I forgot...they"don't understand english" how god damn convenient.So I turn around (if I can) and retreat,I will attempt this level later and now head to the Pharmacy of hell level,where on a good day,the wait is only 30 minutes,and none of the customers speak english,get way more medication than I get,whip out that medicaid/WIC/whatever card and pay 10 dollars,while I,even with insurance,pay 100...I made it through the pharmacy level,but it cost me.
Then,on to the tampon ailse level(yes...I buy tampons for Ann,it doesn't bother me,I've heard it's an issue for some guys and to this I say get over it you big baby)...today there were three twenty-something girls bogarting the tampon area... waving around various boxes of 'poons and I guess discussing the merits of each...I couldn't understand what they were saying,perhaps it was "look at the white dude needing to get tampons for his woman,let's stand here talking gibberish and see how uncomfortable we can make him"...nah...probably not.I left the ailse and circled around for at least 10 minutes...they finally got the ones with wings and landing gear and left,I swooped in and grabbed the ones I needed and I was ready for the final level....check out.
Check out is where the "inability" to understand spoken or written english comes heavily into play. And underlines the cruel joke that is the "express lane" at the third world...when the other lines are backed up,they get into the 10 or less lane with a basket full and then pretend to not understand the concept of 10 or less...christ!Even I can count to 10 in spanish! Do they really think we're that stupid???Apparently,because then:
They whip out the Lone star card...Texas' answer to food stamps...and you notice: they are dressed nicer than you,they have nicer jewelery than you see in general...and if you manage to follow them out,you see they have a nicer car than you.Why can't I get one of these Lone star cards????
Because I report...uh...I mean make too much income to qualify...this is the point that I spontaneously combust and have to start the game over the next time I need to eat.
The united states is a country of cruel contradictions,for me and for the people that come here trying to better their lives and instead learn to resent and manipulate and get in my god damn way on the bread ailse.