August 31st, 2008

My wife decided that we were to go out for Mexican food. There's a quaint family run Mexican eatery just up the hill a bit from our home that was picked for the occasion. It's a quiet little place that serves some serious Mexican food and doesn't skimp on the servings at a very reasonable price.

My wife and I both ordered the same dish, a beef enchilada meal with beans and rice. There had been a family of five that had entered shortly after we got there. The father was carrying a girl that looked to be about 5 or 6. I was thinking she was just waking up from a nap. She was very relaxed, slumped over the Father's shoulders. They walked past me and entered in to the deeper parts of the building. We were closer to the front entrance and I was facing out on a lovely expanse of jet black Asphalt, white lines and some great beat up cars. Plus the occasional child stopping to gawk at the crazy white people (us) eating in a Mexican restaurant, peering through their little hands cupped against the plate glass window as they walked past the facility. So cute. Get a move on already. Eww, don't pick your ...

Well the food finally showed up and it was amazing. A large, hot, oval plate of deliciousness that was smelling fantastic. The beef was seared, tender and full of flavor wrapped in fresh tortillas with a mild, very flavorful sauce, red rose in color that stood out well from the china white plate it sat on.
Enchilada dinner.


Anyway, I decided for some strange reason to pepper the conversation with a lovely little story about a post I had read at a fellow Entrecarders blog, Monkey Fables And Tales, This post regaled how he had bought a dozen flowers, daffodils to be exact, from a nearby store manager, after her breasts had talked him into buying the flowers.

Yes, her breasts. I was wondering why it was that I began this sorted tale, but once I got started, it was kind of like a train wreck. I just kept on going and explaining about how he had referred to her breasts as a bakery item, uhm, muffins to be exact, and how I tried, barely, to keep from laughing, again, for I though it quite humorous the first time I read it. I mean I was rollin', guffawing and snorting loudly as he explained in some sorted detail about how her clothing accentuated her, uhm, female attributes and ... well, you had to be there.

So, I am trying to make it interesting for my wife, and she is looking at me with with an amused look on her face, placating me as she is apt to do when I am talking about some thing foolish and dangerous and might just get me into a world of trouble if I cross some imaginary line.

I love living on the edge.

Part 1 of 2

August 29th. 2008

A young Korean Child signing Hey Jude.


Now that he is in the 6th grade, He is the laughing stock oh his school because he is in a diaper. Couldn't they have at least put clothes on the poor kid.


The Real Deal and just for the heck of it - it's Friday and John McCain has a lady VP.

August 27th, 2008

I have to make this on the sly. I don't want my wife to find this as I work on it. I was kind of told unofficially that I wasn't to use her conversations on the Internet anymore since I posted about her furry dream a while back. Actually she spelled it out to me in no uncertain manner, But I choose to remember it as a soso chewing out

Just a few Minutes ago: Sound of a phone is ringing.

My wife: "Is that you son?"

Son, Layed out on the couch, watching TV under the swampcooler. "What?"

Wife: "Is that your Phone ringing?"

Son: "That's on the TV."

Wife: "It sounded like it was in the living room."

Me: "Where do you think we have the TV at?" (It's in the Living Room.)

Wife: "But It sounded like the phone was ringing right there, not on the TV."




Me: "Oh, I remember when My wife was sane."

Wife: "It didn't sound like it was on the TV."

Son: "It didn't even sound like my phone."

Me: "Actually, we moved the TV into the Bedroom."

Wife: "Oh, Shut Up."

August 26th, 2008

I had mentioned before about my previous cooking profession, 95% of the time as a dinner cook (flipping eggs in an egg pan was not my forte, a very popular way of cooking breakfast eggs in most restaurants). The ying to my cooking's yang, if you will, would be the food server. The one who would basically let me know what it was that I was to be doing, and to whom my finished cooked product would go to.

Most Waitresses are very hard working and very good at what they do. They have to be to make sure they get good tips from their customers. Most waitresses are forced to wear some kind of uniform decided by the owner or the manager of the eating establishment. Most waitresses don't deal with Bar patrons as well.

This one Kitchen I worked at was very different from the norm. And no one informed me about her.

I was cooking as usual one night when a lovely voice came at me from another window from one where most of my food was delivered to. It was about my second night in the Kitchen, and it then that I discovered that I was not only cooking for a Coffee shop attached to a bowling alley and a Formal restaurant, but also a small Bar.

I looked around and found where the voice was coming from:

"Can I have an order of French fries." I found the 3 Foot wide window that was probably as High also. The window had a ledge on it about 2 feet wide. There was two forearms crossed on the ledge. The sleeves of this red top stopped at just above the elbows. There was no head visible. But was extremely visible was a huge pair of breasts barely contained in the briefest of a red sweater. There was the window, there was forearms, and their was cleavage. The cleavage was ordering french fries.

I said "Excuse me", trying to make some sense of this surreal encounter with these breasts. I had no idea where this window led to and no idea we served a bar from this window. Communication was not a big deal at this kitchen.

"I need some french fries for the bar." the breasts said. I said "Ok" and turned to start cooking up a batch. Theses breast moved a few times, but they mainly just stayed there the whole time, leaning on the forearms and the shelf or small counter. I got busy cooking other items and finally took the french fries out of the deep frier. I put them on a plate and took them to the window. There was no place to put them, for these breasts were taking up most of the counter.

I said, "Excuse me." again and the breasts moved away from the counter. I placed the Plate of fries on the counter and the hands attached to the forearms took the plate. The window smelled strongly of cigarettes and some kind of great smelling perfume. I poked my head through the window and saw the rear view of the lady with the red sweater walking away and then turning. There was a door some ten feet from the window with the ledge that I eventually was able to go through and found the bar in the back. But just then, a food order came in and I had to retreat back to the Kitchen.

The Next Day, I found the chef, and asked her about the Bar Waitress.

"Is she for real?"

The chef said, a woman as well, "I have known her for years and she has always dressed like that."

And for the next few months I worked there, that is what she always wore, Tight, very low cut tops to more than show off her God Given Attributes. I am sure she made lots of tips.

August 25th, 2008

This one takes me back to my days delivering Pizza. It was a Sunday, early about lunch time. The Apartment door faced North. One in a string of ground floor apartments. I drove up about ten feet from the door and got the pizza out of the Passenger side door of My Mustang. I turned and went to the allotted apartment letter. I knocked on the door and stepped back a bit.

Just then, a very busty lady in cut off blue jeans shorts and a Small bikini Bathing top answered the door. She didn't say anything as she looked down and saw her large Sunday Newspaper.

Now you have to understand, My experience with Women's Breasts was very minimal at this time in my life, as how I was seventeen and hadn't really had a girlfriend yet, at least one which would allow any, uhm, messing around. So, I was rather taken back, when this woman stood up from getting her paper and one of her prized breasts was no longer covered under the small area of cloth provided by her bathing suit top. She noticed it staring at me almost immediately, and very casually allowed for the breast to be recovered by her bikini top.

She adjusted and maneuvered stuff till it seemed right to her. Then she finally spoke about her pizza.

"How much do I owe you?"

What I felt like saying was "You don't owe me a thing, I think I'm needing to pay you."

But what I somehow managed to say was the proper price. She brought money from somewhere, and I tried not to stare as I handed the pizza to tit's rightful owner.

She told me to have a nice day. She had no Idea how nice a day she had made it.

( and Yes, I left the misspell in it's original format - something subconscious going on there I think.)

August 24th, 2008

I don't know why it lately, but the topics of Boobs has been seen by me lately, at least the 3 days. So following in that trend, I'll give it a go.

I worked at a small Hospital in the linen room many years ago (yes, a different career) and with that Job, I got to go into every department of that hospital at least once a day and some departments got a visit by me 3 or more times a day.

One of the departments I visited 3 times a day, every day, was the ICU department. This was the Intensive care, where you really were supposed to be very sick and in dire need to get in there. They, the nurses, really didn't have much of a sense of humor there with difficult patients.

So I was in one of the departments (they had 2 sides) and was trying to figure out what was going on in a bed just opposite from the linen cart. There apparently was a young black man in cardiac arrest and he was being rushed by any number of nurses to try and save his life. They had already placed a hard stiff back board behind him and one of the younger nurses was climbing up on the bed to give him cardiac compression.

Now, if this is done correctly, it is nothing like what you see in movies, for you can get broken ribs from this procedure. That is how hard these pros are pressing on your chest. They are trying to squeeze your heart through your chest cavity and trying to compress your heart on your spine.

It is serious folks. Life or death for sure.

So this young nurse is now straddling this guy and proceeds to press in on his chest. Right then, he reaches up and grabs a hand full with each hand. The guy is now laughing, but not for long.

The nurse reared back and slapped the guy right across the face. I heard the slap all the way across the room. I'm guessing the guy was in his early 20's.

She jumped down off this fool and was cussing him out the whole way. Apparently, he disconnected the wiring to his monitor I guess, he faked a straight line somehow, and here were 5 or 6 nurses staring daggers at this guy. He's asking why they didn't think that was funny. 3 of the nurses wheeled around and let him know in no uncertain terms.

It was an amazing site.

August 23rd, 2008

Part of this is an inside Blogging thingy so if you don't blog, you may not understand.

I have for a while routinely been checking and posting at E-Card Forum. I have been using E-card for a while now and it has worked out quite well for me. I suggest you give it a try, if your not already doing so.

Anyway, I had Buzzed a blog post yesterday (this is the part you may not get if your not a hip blogger such as my self - yeah right.) Buzz is a thingy that Yahoo has going on that allows for post from blogs or websites to be rated sort of and allowed to rise to the top of the heap and may get to the front page of Yahoo. Yahoo!

So I checked in on the E-card Forum and here is ê¿ê (yes that is her is signature) and she is thanking me for buzzing her.

The conversation goes something like this:

ê¿ê : "Beamer buzzed my post! He's my new huny!

That was my very first buzz (just succumbed to adding the tacky button today)

Thanks, Beamer!

ê¿ê

(oops! just noticed I'm logged in on one of the other blogs -- it wasn't this blog that he buzzed but the OTHER one -- you know which one!)"

fragileheart.com | journal :"lol Margaret; sure work my memory why don't you!
Congrats on the buzz!"

Wisdom Hypnosis : "Beamer Buzzes?"

Superficial Gallery : "wtf is a buzz?"

No Democrats : "What in the H are you talking about any how ?"

(See Your not the only one that isn't a hip blogger.)

ê¿ê "Ok -- go read the EntreCard Blog 0--- or look down in community for a Graham post about changing blogging blah blah -- Yahoo! Buzz is the new Digg.

I just put the ugly button on my site (not this one I know I'm still logged in as the Reader) and he was the first one to buzz a post.

Sorry if I got carried away, but it's my first, you see.....

ê¿ê

ô¿ô"

(I am basically Laughing out loud by now.)

Wisdom Hypnosis : "OK, you convinced me, I got a buzz!"

She Lives : "A good buzz sounds pretty good about now."

Beamer : "Rotfl

Thanks I needed that.

Yes, I am a part Time Bee.

too Funny.

Beamer"

So here I am literally laughing out loud and my wife is making an appearance, trying unsuccessfully to wake up.

Me: "Hello."
In between guffaws of laughter.

Wife : "Whut's so funny?"

Me, pointing at the monitor, trying to gain some kind of control: "It's a bloggin' thing."

Wife :"Ok."

Me: "Good Morning."

Wife : "Harumph."

Me : "What?"

Wife: "I love the way My brain works."


She went on to tell me how she had heard Chrissy Meowing in her sleep. So, instead of waking up to see what it was the cat wanted, she dreamy of a Guinea pig nuzzling her. When she awoke in her dream, there were all kinds of small furry animals in bed with her, jumping on her, Gerbils, hamsters and such. She awoke for reals to find Chrissy standing on her chest, meowing at her.


Damn, Now I'm In trouble. She has awaken enough to realize I am posting about her waking up and telling me this stuff.

Hep me.

August 21st, 2008

Part Three

I returned again to the same Gas station to get my next allotment of gas. Hoping For a much better time than the last time I was there. I walked in to the store part and saw that the owner was now behind the counter.

After handing him the paperwork to get the deal started, I asked him:

"You are the owner of this place right?"

Owner: "Yes."

Me: "Well. I had a very Interesting time when I was in here last."

Thinking I should get an award for understatement of the Year, or at least the month.

Owner: 'Whut Happened?"

Me: "You have a young lady and a tall Mexican working for you, right?"

Owner: "I have a young lady working here. But there is no Mexican working for me."

Me: "You have got to be kidding."

I just began to tell him the sorted tale of the guy standing behind the counter, when the owner stopped me.

Owner: "Is that him?"

He pointed towards the front door as the crazy man walked in and passed me. I backed away.

Me: "Yes."

Owner: "Whut are you giving my customers a hard time for?"

The tall Hispanic looked at the owner with a blank stare and didn't say any thing. I looked at the man is disbelief.

Me, hoping the Hispanic was in a much calmer mood, since I wasn't asking for a receipt right then: "You don't remember my car?" I pointed to my large white Chevy station Wagon.

Again, a blank stare.

Me: "You don't remember me?"

The Mexican turned to the owner and said: "I don't know what your talking about?"

Me, to the Hispanic again: "You don't remember me?" I pointed to my chest.

The Hispanic looked at me and at my car again then said: "Nope."

I backed away from the Hispanic again and turned to the Owner: "I don't even want to stand next to this dude."

The Hispanic: "mumble don't stand next to me?"

I went out the door to get my gas. After I finished, I looked up and the Hispanic was standing near the front door talking to another guy. I waited, then the Hispanic left. I walked back in the store. The owner was helping a customer. As soon as he finished with her, I finished telling him about what happened that day.

Right then, a black man walked in the store and after only hearing a sentence or two of what I was saying, he said to the Owner: "You talking about Crispy?"

The Owner grudgingly admitted yes.

Me: "The guy's name is Crispy?"

Black Guy: "Yep."

Me: "How fitting"

Black Guy: "He used to work here a long time ago. Trust me, If he thinks he's the big dog around here, then I'm the small dog, and that kind of crap won't happen again."

Ok.

Me: "You hang out with this guy, Crispy?"

The hurt look on this guys face spoke volumes.

Me, reaching out and putting my hand on his shoulder: "Oh man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that. Just this Crispy dude has got me a bit freaked out."

Black Guy: "He has that effect on People."

Me, still trying to understand, turning to the owner: "So Crispy doesn't work here?"

Owner shaking his head no.

Me: "But he was standing right there."

Me pointing at where now the black guy stood, behind the counter.

Owner: "I'll have a talk with the young lady. She shouldn't be asking Crispy for directions."

Me, shaking the owners hand and thanking him a good day.

Me thinking hot damn, I got me some good blogging material and How can I work him into B and B.

August 20th, 2008

Meeting Crispy, although I didn't know it:

Part of the fun I deal with being unemployed like forever is a county Office called Employers training resource. They have a program where I am able to get Gas Vouchers of 20 bucks to get some gas. The only problem with this setup is that I basically get to drive 5 miles to get this gas. It is something that I have to deal with, for it is the only place in Town that I can get the gas at.

On the 24th of June, I went to this Gas station. I took the paper work in to get the gas and she set me up on the Pump I had parked by. Great, except I wasn't able to get all the Gas in the old tank. I put the handle and hose back into the Gas Pump, and went back in to tell the girl behind the counter.

Me: "Hello, I wasn't able to get all the gas in my car. Do you think I can get a receipt so I can have proof of just how much gas I did get?"

Girl behind counter: "Oh man, what am I supposed to do?"

She had turned to a tall Hispanic guy standing behind the counter half buried by a huge cigarette display. He Mumbled some thing to her and she looked even more confused.

Girl behind Counter: "So, you think I should call him?"

She reaches for the phone. I really could care less what they did, I just wanted my receipt so I could get out of there. I had a full tank of Gas. I was happy.

Me: "Can You print me a receipt?"

Hispanic Guy: "You really should call first."

Girl Behind counter: "Ok."

Me: "Hold it, Can you print me a receipt, yes or no?"

Girl behind counter, looking even more confused, turned to the Hispanic: "What do I do?"

Girl behind the counter, to me: "Yes, I can print you a receipt."

Hispanic: "Print him his damn receipt."

The girl printed the receipt and handed it to me. I walked out the door. I went to my car and Locked back up my Gas cap on my car. Just then, I heard someone behind me coming from the store.

Hispanic: "Oh, he can't wait for a phone call. He needs his receipt. Mumble Mumble."

He walks past me as he is mumbling. I turned to see if there was anyone else around me he could have been talking to. No one was out there but Him and I.

Me: "Are you talking to me?"

I am asking the back of his head this question, as he has already walked past Me. He suddenly turned around, yelling.

Hispanic: "What the F_ck makes you think I'm talking to you? Why would I be talking to you?"

He turns and keeps on walking towards the street.

Me: "Cause there is no one else out here."

By now, the girl from behind the counter has come out to see what the fuss was, I guess.

Hispanic, now even more agitated: "No, I'm not talking to you, I'm out here picking up trash."

He is now standing in the gutter, trying to find something to pick up. Me, I am climbing into my car to get the Hell out of there. Now he is yelling at a car as It goes by him at 40 miles an hour.

Hispanic: "He couldn't wait for a phone call. He needed his Blankety blank blank receipt right then!"

Me, romping on the Gas and lighting up the passenger rear tire as I am leaving this insane scene.

August 19th, 2008

This isn't part 2 of the 3 I had planned. This caught me off guard.

I don't know this blogger well. I hardly know this blogger at all, But I do know this blogger and I guess that is enough.

http://hands.tumblr.com/post/44621564/drowning

You put your heart out and try to reach out to your fellow man. You work hard to have content worthy of being read and seen and have people come back again to your Blog and then ...

The Internet is a many colored coat. Many times the rainbow is bright and happy and sunny.

Then you have the reverse.

Update:

Turns out this may be true or may not. But this didn't happen to the person I thought It did and it really upset me that I was scammed that way, or at least feel I was scammed. Sorry folks.

August 18th, 2008

Ok, fine. To tell you what it is I want to tell you I need to tell you the truth.

The glaring unvarnished truth.

I am Unemployed. There it is out.

The viscous terrible truth I have not been disgorging for almost 10 months now is that I am with out a Job.

Probably explains why I have so many friggin' blogs going at once.

So throw stones and bottles and large broken bricks and huge chunks of lumber and wood.
I am probably deserving of it, but then again I may not.

There is a saying that you shouldn't judge someone till you have walked a thousand miles in their shoes. You want my shoes, you can have them.

With that burden unfurled, I can then proceed to tell you the story that waits ...

Part 1 of 3

August 15th, 2008

Yesterday Afternoon I was wanting to come on here and just blast a local AM Radio Talk show host. I wanted to post what a moron he is. But I have mellowed out and just want to pass along again info about Gout.

If you haven't ever had Gout, you are fortunate. For it is not any fun, especially when it is most active and painful. This AM Radio Talk show host was going off again about how he was suffering with gout and had some other stuff going on with joints and pain. I turned him off when he started talking about some medicine and why he was reluctant to take it.

His name is Ralph Bailey. Yesterday I was going to post this and then give him a link to this post. I doubt that he would bother to read it. It seems at times he's to busy for his listeners. I find Ralph to be a very odd individual. I use to listen to him religiously till one day when I tried to talk to him on air about his gout problem. He apparently didn't care to discuss it, even though I had told the call screener what it was I was talking about, and once on the air, promptly cut me off. Fine, it's his show, but I have hardly listened to him since.

Any way to make a short post much longer, if you have trouble with Gout, avoid foods high in purines, avoid fat and drink lots of water. It's not rocket science, at least to me. I have been dealing with this problem for most of my adult life and I have had very few instances of flair ups. Maybe I am Lucky.

And Maybe Ralph Bailey is a fool.

August 14th, 2008

Let's see, going back to that Chicken Delight place where I delivered pizzas, one of the jobs I had was answering the phones. So it was a late summer afternoon and I answered the phone.

Me: "Hello. Chicken delight. We Deliver." (Funny how stuff like that gets etched into your brain).

Customer: (Something along these lines) "I'd like a large pepperoni pizza delivered to blah blah blah H street."

Me: "Ok. That will be so and so dollars and 25 cents"

Now back then we took them at their word and didn't call them back or anything. The pizza got made and as it was I was to deliver it. So I jumped into my 1966 Mustang and headed south. I finally found the address way south of town with a large dirt driveway leading off the road. I pulled into the driveway.

As I came closer tot he house. I noticed a figure sitting on the stairs leading to the front porch. These stairs must have been 20 feet wide and the front porch which was covered in screen had to be twice as big. This house had two huge trees in front that covered the rest of the front of the house. There was probably 40 or fifty feet of shadow from the trees in front of the stairs. It was quite an expansive setup. Then this tall, willowy figure stood up, dressed in a long white cotton dress, with a large brimmed white hat that covered most of her face. She had long blonde hair curled in big, lazy curls that came down the front of her dress just past her bare shoulders and framed her face very nicely. Looked like something from Gone in the wind, a image from the yesteryear of the deep south. I was trying to take all this in, the huge trees, the giant stairs and the tall lady. So I climbed out of the car, bent back in and got the pizza from the warmer, and turned around to walk towards this lady.

As I got closer, I asked her if she ordered the Pizza. She nodded yes. So as I walked towards the stair, she gracefully glided down the stars and greeted me at the bottom of the stairs. First thing I noticed was that she towered over me by about 5 inches and I was probably 6 feet tall then. Then she spoke.

"Glad you made it out here so quickly." I glanced up, responding to the deep male voice that I heard. She / he handed me my money from white, lace and cotton gloved hands and said "Keep the change." which I swear was even deeper. I some how managed to say thank you and got back in my car.

Strange times, those '70's.

August 8th, 2008

This was a interesting start to another grave yard shift at this crazy AM-PM Store I worked at a while back. As I walked in the store, there were 3 sheriff's that were very excited and a Cashier that was besides herself with excitement. I clocked in and started asking questions.

The cashier started to fill me in. She had been robbed, probably 45 minutes before I got there. There were 3 guys and each of them had ran out with two "suitcases" of beer under each arm. I think it contained 24 cans of beer in each "suitcase".





Needless to say, it was a lot of beer going out the front door with out being paid for. The Store manager showed up about then. Luckily, the store didn't have any customers right then.

One of the guys had jumped over the retaining wall to the parking lot next door.





About then the Store Manager and one of the cops needed to talk to the cashier. I had a few brief customers and then had a chance to talk to the Cashier's Husband, who was waiting to give his wife a ride home.

Hopefully, the images show how on one side of the wall, facing the AM - PM is about two feet high. At the Time, the other side of the wall was about 6 feet high. The parking lot on the opposite side has been regraded and is only about four feet tall now. But then it was quite a difference in height.

So this one thief decided to take a short cut jumping over the wall with about 20 extra lbs of liquid in two large, hard to handle, cases of beer. He then apparently landed entirely wrong on the other side of the wall with the 6 foot drop and broke the thigh bone in one of his legs. The other two guys jumped in their get away car and sped off, leaving their partner in crime writhing in pain, of course after picking up his stolen beer as well.

The husband had jumped over the wall in chase and saw the whole thing go down. He said he had never seen such happy cops as they loaded the guy in an ambulance and hauled him off. The thief had asked the husband to help him get away before the cops showed up. He had to inform the thief that he had just robbed his wife and that He wasn't going to do anything till the cops showed up. The husband was also able to give the license plate of the getaway car.

August 6th, 2008

My last night on the graveyard shift at AM-PM, it was close to the time to lock up the beer doors, to keep people from getting more beer. I had just helped a customer with their purchase and watched as these two Bozo's walked into the store. They split up once they came in and I watched them casually while doing odds and ends. It was cold out and both of these guys had heavy coats on, so anything was possible with these two as far as stuff walking out the front door.

They met up at one time, about 10 minutes after they had come into the store (it's not that big a store) and were looking at their wallets. I walked behind the counter and piddled around. Just then, I heard one of the doors to the beer cases slam shut and one of these guys went running out the door with two cases of beer, one under each arm. The strange thing was, his buddy had just walked up to the counter. He was wanting to buy a candy bar.

Now we had pretty decent cameras in the store and one of them pointed over my shoulder and faced the counter where this guy was standing. As the beer went out the door under this one guys arm, I grabbed the zipper area of the coat on this other guy and pulled him firmly towards me, One hand firmly grasping on each side of his coat. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the camera was pointed right at him and moved over just a little and moved him to where there was no way his face wasn't going to be filmed.

He asked me what I thought I was doing. I told him his buddy just ripped me off of two cases of beer. He denied knowing anything about it. I sad that's ok, I'm just making sure your getting on the camera, I let loose with one hand and pointed up to the camera. His eyes got the size of quarters. I told him it was my last night there and he really made it a good one and then I let him go. He ran out without his candy bar.

August 5th, 2008

One of my other jobs from years gone by involved working the graveyard shift at an AM-PM Convenience store. This place sold Gasoline, Beer, fast food, and groceries. It also sold Cigarettes.

Now we were supposed to "card" customers we thought weren't old enough to by cigarettes. They were supposed to be 18. Many folks tried to buy them that weren't old enough. It was some times a real hassle, especially when the young "individual" ( I have a few other choice Nouns I'd like to stick in there) thought that they looked old enough and didn't have their ID with them.

One of these occasions was one night or early in the morning. It had to be about 2 or 3 AM. I was busy trying to get ready for the Farm workers rush at about 4 or 4:30 - cooking of lots of food and getting lots of coffee made. I didn't need these two Bozo's to come into my store and give me a hard time.

I didn't even notice these guys come in. I was that busy. I turned and they were all ready at the counter, which I didn't like. I liked to be aware of the people coming in my store, as I was the only one working that shift. The fewer surprises the better. I opened the stupid little door that allowed me to get behind the counter and waited for them to say some thing after greeting them a "Good Morning".

Guy # 1: "Yeah, what ever." In this fake deep voice. "I need some cigarettes."

I looked at him trying to gauge how old he was. See there was a tiny little problem with his appearance:



Me: "Can I see some ID ?"

Now what this means is that this guy reaches into some pocket or wallet or something and produces something which shows me that he is old enough to buy cigarettes. That's it. It doesn't mean you turn to your buddy behind you an start bad mouthing the big guy standing behind the counter.

Guy # 1 talking to Guy #2: "Is this guy kidding? He must be crazy"

Guy # 1 turning back to me: "Are you crazy? Asking ME for MY ID?"

I looked at this fool and said: "Yep I must be crazy. Here I am working Graveyard shift at some stupid AM-PM store asking some moron with as giant green star painted on his head for ID."

Guy # 1: "So, you going to sell me some cigarettes?"

Guy # 1 didn't get it. Without the ID, he wasn't going out the door with cigarettes. I turned to his buddy and tried to get him to explain it to Star Head. He tapped Guy # 1 on the shoulder, Pointed towards the door and started walking out. Guy # 1 stood there looking at me, shaking his head, and muttered something about how crazy I was again, then followed his buddy out the door.

The Next customer in line was a normal looking 40 year old buying a cup of coffee. He asked me what that was. I couldn't answer him.

Monday August 4th, 2008



Mr. John Entwistle of the Who. May he rest in peace.

I hope Our Local DA Discovers that they can't treat people like dog meat and not have any one find out. This was posted at www.amysmusings.com by Amy. She is way to nice a lady to have to put up with this crap:


"I’ve heard the horror stories about how horrible the Kern County District Attorney’s office treats people, but this was my first experience with what I can only describe as extreme verbal abuse and intimidation.

I received a subpoena this morning, jammed into my door. The name was spelled incorrectly and the contact information was incorrect as well. My husband called to inquire about the subpoena, since we didn’t know who it was for in our household and had NO idea whatsoever it would be pertaining to.

My husband managed to get a receptionist or whomever it was who answered the phone to clarify who the subpoena was for. As it turns out, it was meant for me. Talk about a shock!!

I spoke to the girl, she was rude, snippy, sharp and threatening. Telling me that I must have given my information to someone for me to be subpoenaed. I tried to explain (as she interrupted me numerous times and kept telling me I could be arrested for not showing up - and NOT ONCE did I say I would not show up) that I had no idea what this was about and I had not been a victim or witness to a crime, nor had I spoken with any law enforcement officers. She kept insisting that I must have given my information out somewhere because I would have been REQUIRED to show my ID. I finally insisted on speaking to a supervisor because this girl was so rude and nasty.

Another woman came on the phone (after a long hold where I am sure I was described as some sort of combative jerk on the phone) and rapidly introduced herself as a Supervising Deputy District Attorney. I could have sworn she gave the name, “Jan” but again, she was so rapid about giving her name that I couldn’t be sure other than that it definitely started with a “J”. After a long time spent reviewing the District Attorney’s website I was unable to find a list of Deputy District Attorneys to see if I could find the correct name.

The Deputy District Attorney handling the case is Richard Tae Choi. He had apparently left for the day. According to the website you are supposed to be given notice and have the opportunity to speak to the DDA prior to showing up for court (it would be nice to know what you are supposed to testify about.) Yet, here I was receiving a subpoena on FRIDAY to show up MONDAY at 8:30am.

The DDA who came on the line with me was beyond rude. Nearing abusive levels, she yelled at me, threatened me, acted as if she had an audience because she kept yelling into the phone, “You are being COMBATIVE! YOU ARE BEING COMBATIVE” at me. I finally managed to get it out of her what this case was about.

A month or so ago, my husband was up late and I was in bed ASLEEP. From our deck off the master bedroom he saw what looked to be people vandalizing a home construction site for McMillin’s Capella neighborhood. Here is where he made a mistake, he called the police and reported it - certainly as they would prefer citizens to do, right? So there he was doing the right thing and what happens?

They take MY name off the caller ID (even though he gave his name when he called 911) and subpoenaed me. I wasn’t even conscious at the time!

I tried to explain this to the DDA who was yelling and threatening me on the phone. That it wasn’t ME Richard Choi needed for the case and that here we are calling for information (As they tell you on the subpoena to do) and all I was doing was being subjected to harassment and vicious verbal abuse.

The woman proceeded to tell me that, “No one likes to be subpoenaed, we have a lot of people here with a lot of business to take care of. No one likes to have to testify, it’s stressful and it doesn’t matter because you were given a court order.” While I tried to explain again, that the person they wanted was my husband. She replied, “Richard obviously knows you have information that he wants. I’m trying to work with you here.” All of this was said in a rude, unprofessional, threatening manner.

She proceeded to tell me that if I would PROMISE to be there she could put me on call. And, this is after I have been listening to this woman berate and degrade me for several minutes. I finally, asked her why she was speaking to me like that and she replied (yelling), “YOU ARE BEING COMBATIVE, I AM TRYING TO WORK WITH YOU - YOU ARE BEING COMBATIVE… YES YOU ARE! YOU JUST SHOW UP MONDAY MORNING AND TALK TO RICHARD ABOUT IT.” And she slammed the phone down in my ear.

This was AFTER she asked me to provide my contact information and told me she would put me on the “on call” list if I would “PROMISE” to answer my phone. Yet, she didn’t even give me the opportunity to give it to her because she couldn’t stop yelling at me.

In tears, I called back and another gentleman was kind enough to put me on a call list and leave a note for Richard Choi who had left for the day (Friday, early, isn’t THAT typical). I’m sure he has a cell phone, and they did say they would try to get a hold of him… but again, no one would take my contact information because they were too busy screaming at me about what a horrible person I am. He was nice enough to apologize for how i was treated but basically told me there was nothing he could do about it.

The fact is, if they would have stopped being rude and abusive and given us a chance to talk to them (my husband was right there and witnessed this entire thing) they would have found out that we were completely willing to cooperate and help. But, we had NO IDEA that any of this was going on. How would someone assume that by calling 911 to report what looked like a crime - would get you subpoenaed with no notice and no prior knowledge that they might even require your help? Furthermore, as I said, if they had given us the chance to explain they would have realized that:

A.) they subpoenaed (geez, I hope I am spelling that correctly) the wrong person.

B.) my husband would actually be the person they would want to testify because I was asleep at the time and didn’t SEE anything. (gee, just trying to save TIME and you know, TAX PAYER money by getting the RIGHT person for them, but they clearly aren’t interested in that.)

I’m ashamed to live in this county where honest, hard working, TAX PAYING citizens are treated like criminals and harassed and abused for trying to do the right thing. Oh, I’m sorry, they treated us worse than criminals, because at least criminals have rights.

I’m an innocent citizen and I was threatened with arrest NUMEROUS times during the phone call with BOTH women from the DA’s office.

I don’t expect the District Attorney’s office to behave honorably and apologize for the atrocious behavior of their employees. But, it would sure be nice.

It’s nice to know that Bakersfield’s well-known tradition of harassment and abuse of honest citizens continues and that no one ever does anything about it. Some things never change, I guess."

I posted about this at the local newspaper’s website as well.
--

Amy
amy@amysmusings.com
www.amysmusings.com

August 1st, 2008

Tara's coin trick