"I do have this other image of some of your grating."

"I want it gone as well."

I think it got deleted as well. I just wanted to get away from this lady and her band of merry men.

She wanted to know why I was doing this, what enjoyment can I possibly get out of doing this, and again she said she was going to get her camera. I asked her if she wanted to take a picture of Me.

"No."

Well, then I knew she was crazy. I am walking away from her and she is still going on about what enjoyment could I be getting out of this.

I said. "Well, I guess I am Crazy." I asked her if she knew about Photo Blogs.

She gave me a blank stare. I asked her if she knew about the Internet.

"I am very wise about the Internet." I gave up. I was getting no where and My golden Hour was dwindling down to a few minutes. I finally got away from her. I saw a neat image a few feet further and turned back to her.

"Look I'm Taking a picture. You better call the cops."

I turned the corner at the end of the Block and though how it must going to be a full moon out tonight.

Part 3 of 3.

So, I start explaining about my Photo Blog and how I need to keep getting images to "Feed the Beast" as I like to call it. I am in a public alley way. There is a fence between me and the two guys and the two dogs. I wish them a good day and start walking down the alley looking for more shots. I only have a brief period of time with this golden hour thing.

I walk to the end of the block and head south. I cross a three lane street and as I am halfway across the street, a group of people have gathered in front of the house with the missing landings for the second story of the back of the house. Someone whistled loudly and I looked over at the group of people. They were waving for me to come over.

I finished crossing the street and took a few more images. I got across from thee gathering and a lady had what looked like my business card and was asking me something about what I was doing. I crossed back over the street. She is holding onto my card and is asking me what "this" is all about.

"Uhm, it's a free business card from Moo."

"What does this mean? It's all gibberish."

Actually, there are different Addresses to different things dealing with Me on the Internet. I said "It is a business card (again) and it has different ..."

"Why are you doing this? You are taking pictures of my private property. You came onto my property and took pictures." Crap. This didn't sound good.

"What if I got my Camera and went and took pictures of your property? Is your address on here?"

Actually there are for addresses on there, but that isn't what she was wanting, apparently.

Again she said "What if I got my camera?" My golden hour was dwindling.

Look Lady I wanted to say, take your private property issues and shove them where the s=* Don't S&&6.

But what I said instead was "Here, let me delete the Image of your House, ok?"

I found her junked up property on the camera and hit the delete on it. The image pixilated to a blue field. I was hoping that was going to be her pound of flesh.

"There you see, all gone."

Part 2 of 3 parts.

I guess you didn't give me a chance to tell you about my regular Blog. You probably wouldn't understand about regular blogs either. Even though you claim to be so wise about the Internet.

I know that doesn't make much sense to you. But there may be one person that gets it, although I doubt it.

I was out this afternoon during golden hour, the optimum time for taking images with a camera. The setting sun just throws off such a nice golden glow and does wonders for photography. So I am out getting some more shots for my Photo blog, I am walking down an alley in old town Kern, an older part of Bakersfield that is seen it's better days. There was great hoopla of getting this part of Bakersfield back on it's feet, but that was before the economy turned upside down. Now it is just sad.

I came across some Iron grating that made for a neat shot. I took it. I then walked a few feet and there was the back of a 2 story house with doors leading to nowhere. The upper floors were there but there was not a thing past the doors for anyone to walk out on. It looked scary and ridiculous. It was unusual and it ended up in my camera.

Two dogs came running as I am taking the shot, followed by two guys.

One of the guys said "Can I help You?" over the loud barking dog. I already had my shot.
I asked him what just to make sure of what he said.

"Can I help you?"

"Nope." I reached for my wallet to give him one of my free business cards I got from Moo. It's not really classy but it was free, so I can't complain.

Part 1 of 3 parts.

Little tidbits of what I went through:

I am wondering weather it is a full moon today. There was some rather odd behavior about and that would help explain stuff, but not really.

I was attempting to drive to a location. I had probably 3 blocks from said location when part of the weirdness reared it's ugly strange head. I was trying to make a left turn from a signal with a left turn arrow. I got the go ahead arrow, and started to turn left. At the same time, what I believe to be a homeless person on a bike turned right and ended up right in front of me. He wanted to go very slowly (perhaps drunk) and didn't realize I was behind him. (The car is rather quiet running at Idle, which is what I was doing.)



I eventually reached the Parking lot I was after and turned right to get away from the drunk homeless guy on the bike. I reached a blistering 5 MPH, when I got behind a large red SUV. This lady was trying to decide which way she was to go, I believe. Straight or Turn Left. She put on her left turn signal, then went straight any way. Interesting. (This was all taking place in the Parking lot full of parked cars.)

She turned off her signal and proceeded to crawl forward, then at the next turn, decided to go left. Yay! She didn't signal, but I didn't care. I zoomed through the parking lot when I encountered the next odd thing.

This lady was walking betwixt 2 rows of cars having a senior moment trying to figure out where she was parked. When I first saw her she was going straight down the middle of the row, then she walked over in front of My car. Then she walked away from the front of my car, back towards the middle, looking for her car. Again My car in silent mode (Not really) Idiling, waiting for her to decide what the frack she was going to do. Then back in front of my car, then suddenly to the left. I guess she finally found her car, poor dear.





The only problem was she was about 20 years old.


Then during the time spent Walking to the building I was going to, I almost got ran over twice. I was so glad to finally make it inside and in one piece.

Unfortunately, I was 15 minutes late to get done all of what I had started out to do.

March 2, 2009






The department of Motor Vehicles In California Is an interesting place to wait and watch humanity pass by, Or at least at times it can be.

The day I went and literally wasted an Hour at the DMV proved to be rather rich in human variety.

Take the guy that had a huge tattoo seared into the back of his head it was either 1 number and 2 letters or it was 3 letters. I wasn't sure what it was. But it covered the back of his somewhat squared off shaved skull. It looked like his parents had kept him in a box of some sorts when he was very young. I though that was pretty bad till I saw the huge bulbous red zit covering a quarter size area oh his neck. Ouch! After that it was hard to pay attention to his written on head.

My hat goes off to the Dad with the screaming son, though. He was there almost the same amount of time I was and the young boy he had to try and control didn't quit screaming the whole time. The kid wanted to leave. He didn't want to be there, But the father held his hand, held his body, held his hand, slung him over his shoulder, held his hand ...
You get the drift. The dad never once raised his voice to his son. He stayed in control and remained calm on the outside anyway. Luckily the kid traveled from one end of the DMV to the other so he shared his misery with the packed house.

And finally to the 3rd manager I talked to trying to resolve my unresolvable problem. Again, very calm and collected, even though at times he had to yell over the previously mentioned screaming kid to be heard. By the time I talked to him, I was getting a headache and feeling quite hungry. Last thing I wanted was a battle and luckily he didn't want to fight. Thank God.

Feb. 13th, 2009


I will never forget one night when I was sitting at home reading a very scary book (Peter Straub - Ghost story - I highly recommend it). I was reading about how there were Ghosts that were sort of haunting this poor farmer. He had found some slaughtered cattle on his ranch that these two ghosts had killed. ( Apparently the ghosts didn't like Beef or cows) Anyway the farmer is sitting near a window reading a book, trying to calm his nerves. I was sitting right underneath a large window at the time.

Just then, as I am reading the very passage where the ghosts rap on the poor scared Farmer's window and he jumps out of his seat (I was all engrossed in this author's writing) Some one knocks hard on the window I'm sitting under. I think I let out a gasp or some kind of girly sound and stood up suddenly.

I took a couple of deep breaths, felt my heart beating rapidly in my chest, and realized that I wasn't that farmer and there were (or shouldn't be) any Ghosts knocking at my window. (Why the hell the window, what was the matter with the
front door?) I slightly opened the door to find two Sheriff's standing at the front door. They didn't look ghost like. I open the door proper and I was then asked If they could see my wife after they asked me if I was married and had answered affirmative.

Seems someone had complained about a man and woman fighting nearby and with my appearance at the time that I opened the door, had led them to believe that I was the guilty party. I asked about my appearance and they said I looked scared. (Really, I don't know why?!)

They peered into the bedroom to find my wife sleeping soundly (It was 10 pm at night) in her bed. They were walking out the apartment when one of them asked if I had heard any disturbances. I told them no, but really had to bite my tongue and not tell them about two guys knocking at my window and scaring the crapola outta me.

November 1st, 2008

My poor 2 year old Grandson went trick or treating last night. The third house he went to was all set up to scare the bejesus out of Adults. He didn't stand a chance. It took him like 5 or 6 more houses before he wanted anything to do with Halloween any more. Then he was very gun shy after that. It was a rough experience for him. I can appreciate getting into Halloween, But take your Chit back away from the Sidewalk for christs sake. Hell, these Guys (Two of them) were parked right at the side walk. I guess they didn't want people to walk on their precious sidewalk or something.

They had a stereo cranked with some very good Halloween sound effects, but nothing a 2 year old needed to hear. That sound carried houses away, so he was very tentative even coming close to the gruesome display. One was even sitting in a rocking chair just about his eye height. It couldn't have been worse for the little Scarecrow. It took him 5 minutes to stop sobbing loudly.

I hope you guys had fun scaring the crap out of all the youngsters that had the misfortune to come down that sidewalk.

Mellow out some next year, ok?

Yeah Right.

September 22nd, 2008

Ok, lets see, on Friday I went to the local Fair with my wife, daughter, son in law and Grandson. I had an excellent time till we were leaving the fairgrounds at about 1030 PM. My wife and I were walking along an area that should be nice smooth cement sidewalk and well lit. Should be, but it isn't. It's very fine dirt which they have oiled repeatedly to try and keep the extremely fine dust from blowing around so much and hardly any lights at all. In this dirt in a very dark part of this walkway, a tree root has sprung up, and I found it with my right Foot.

In the ensuing next few moments, I went down first on my right knee, then onto my left forearm and then onto my left shoulder. Hard, onto hard dirt. A cloud of dust, then passers by worried if I was OK. I checked out what was what and told them I was OK. A young gentleman helped me back to my feet.

My forearm was bleeding some what and finally managed to get it washed off. The real fun started the next day.

I awoke to a very sore knee and a shoulder that didn't like being lifted more than a foot or so. So that was Saturday. Sunday I went outside and repaired a fence that some lovely neighbors redesigned for me. I guess I didn't sleep very good the last few nights and then slept about 12 hours today. I'm going to get back into the swing of things posting wise, I promise. Just needing some time to get my self back into shape.

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 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 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.

July 30th, 2008

Alleged carjacker leads almost an hour long pursuit

The Bakersfield Californian | Tuesday, Jul 29 2008 12:10 PM

Last Updated: Tuesday, Jul 29 2008 3:25 PM

A 26-year-old Bakersfield man robbed a woman at gunpoint for her BMW Monday night, and then led police on a 50 minute pursuit through city streets Tuesday morning before being caught and arrested, police said.

The 26-year-old woman said she had parked at the 4200 block of Columbus Street and gotten out of her 2001 BMW 325i


when she was approached by Carlos Rivas, who was armed with a gun, police said. He demanded the keys and drove away in her car at 9:45 p.m. Monday.

At about 12:50 a.m. Tuesday, Bakersfield police officers saw the car driving south on Inyo Street. The Police attempted to stop it, but Rivas didn’t stop and led officers on a 50 minute chase. The chase finally ended on the 4400 block of Monitor Street when Rivas ran and entered a home there, police said. He was arrested a short time later with the help of a police dog, police said.

Two other suspects, Mark Azua, 24, and Ray Behill, 20, both of Bakersfield, stayed in the car and were taken into custody. A stolen loaded gun was also found in the car.

Rivas was arrested for carjacking, parole violation, weapons violations and gang participation. Azua and Behill were arrested for weapon violations and gang participation.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The reason I am posting this local news story is that the Ray Behill in this story used to live next door to us. See, Mr. Behill decided that he needed to let the air out of two of our Brand new tires on my wife's car with a knife through the side wall of the tires about 6 years ago. We caught him red handed and had video proof. He was found guilty and was supposed to pay restitution. We got 25 dollars out of the deal.

So Mr. Behill, enjoy your time back in the grasp of our local law enforcement. Lets hope you get to pay the full amount this time around.

July 14th, 2008

I have to thank a fellow blogger who let me know in no uncertain terms that she did not appreciate being called older than she is. That and maybe a few other smart ass remarks I had left her. Hey, that's part of the fun of blogging in public, Right? You toss out your comments and the public gets a chance to throw back. So any way (this is becoming a whole lot wordier that I thought it would be and this explanation isn't helping matters at all) She said two words which took me back.

"Bite Me."

Lovely little phrase. Hardly my favorite and I don't know how she was wanting it to come across, but for me it comes with a memory of one of my first jobs. It was delivering Pizzas, chicken and other goodies on the Chicken Delight Menu. I got paid an hourly wage plus mileage (I used my own car) and any tips I got. I also had a bunch of experiences which I shall draw from for the next few days of postings.

So the bite me phrase - well, it came from the mouth of the head pizza maker in this small facility down on 21st street in Bakersfield, California. I can't remember her name right now, but she made quite the impression on me.

I feel the need to set the stage properly for you to get the full effect of these two words. I had just started at this job. The building was narrow, but long. The oven setup was at one end of this building right near the front door. There was a table set in front of the oven where the pizzas were created. There was a large window, floor to ceiling, where you could look out onto all the drunks going to Central Park and watch the homeless people going by in their splendor and various stages of aroma. I believe her name was Ann, or it was something very simple like that. Ann was short, probably about 5 foot tall, with this quite large chest area. She wasn't fat at all, (well maybe a little) just very busty. I was about 6 foot 2 inches tall, so to look at her I had to look down and she had to look up, which she didn't like.

Ann was very opinionated. Not just a little, but a whole lot. Like on a scale of 1 to 10, she was probably about a 15. One of the things he let me know right off the bat was she didn't like people looking down at her and she didn't like looking up at other people. (I really think she was wanting to just give me a hard time, for she excelled at that) This was the first words out her mouth after being introduced to her.

"I don't like tall people and I'm not going to look up at you, so get use to it."

Ok.

I was told she also made the pizza's and if I wanted one she would be "more than happy" to make me one. Cool. Free food. My Fave. So I got introduced to some of the other folks that worked there and shown the ropes of the job. Time went by and my stomach started growling. Free food.

So I told Sarge, my boss and the owner of this place, I was taking my lunch break. It was probably about 7 pm. His words from his very gruff voice still ringing in my ears - "more than happy" that and "just ask her". Great. She was busy throwing a huge pizza pie in the oven and turned to look at my stomach or chest, I don't know which, but it wasn't my face.




"Yeah, Sarge said you'd make me a pizza. I'd like a pepperoni and cheese, please." Those famous two words with out a pause. This was the second time I had talked to her. -

"Bite Me!!!" and she stormed off. Now I am not exactly sure how to portray how those two words came across. Kind of like a shot to the gut. Full of poison and venom and total disgust. I stared in disbelief as she walked away.

I'm thinking, hold it, free food, pizza, hungry, free food, damn, Sarge said ...

That and I didn't know the first thing about making a pizza. I knew how to eat them. I had that down to a science.

(more to come)

Friday, June 6th, 2008

(Stupid date thing) Anyway, I was checking out an old post of mine and it dawned on me that the person in charge of the Burger King where I had gotten the disgusting customer service never once responded to what I informed her of. I guess he though it not worth her time to respond to me. Well Guess what Lady? It is still very fresh in my mind the absolutely lousy service I got there that day and how your disgusting crew treated me. You screwed up big time. I hope they have replaced you with some one that gives a damn.

Maybe I should try a higher up in the Burger King business. I know what my wife would say: Let it go! But in certain areas of my life I am quite a bit like a pit bull, very tenacious. And my wife doesn't read my blog. So, I'll think about it.

is being a mommy worth?

My wife is should be getting over $92,000 Dollars a year. Sure would come in handy.

That I am going to attempt to highlight some of the Great Businesses around Bakersfield that Make Bakersfield a rather unique location in California. I'm going to shoot for a weekly feature and see how it goes. (Click on an Image to see a bigger version.)
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The first One Is Rosemary's Creamery:






Rosemary's Family Creamery
2733 "F" Street
Bakersfield, CA 93301
(661) 395-0555






Frank and Rosemary DeMarco Started this little slice of Ice Cream Heaven in November, 1984. Along the way, Roseanne, sister Katy and grandson Patrick Took over the reins of the operation.





This family run business is open 11 AM to 10:30 PM Sunday thru Thursday. On Friday and Saturday, they open at 11 am and close about 11:30 or Midnight.



All right now we get to the main course: the food. Yep, it's not just Ice Cream and Sherbet made on the premises, but there is also Chocolate Sauce, Pineapple sauce cooked right there, Caramel Sauce and marshmallow sauce all made on site. They also make a lot of their bake goods, such as the Brownies and Blondies. There is also Chocolate Cookies, Peanut Butter Cookies, and Shortbread baked there as well.




There is also a wide array of sandwiches and a selection of salads. All of this feast is prepared either to eat in or for take out. They also have a Patio Area that allows for outdoor enjoyment. There is a Good Value Special that Offers savings on their regular price.




There is currently 26 Employees and they do not as of yet have a presence on the Internet. I am told that they are working on getting a web site running.






On A side Note, the smells that add to the atmosphere are at times just incredible, especially when they start serving banana Splits with Strawberry sauce over the top.


I just wanted to thank Roseanne again for taking the time out to let a blogger come in and interview her and take some photos. I didn't know what to expect when I walked in and was greeted quite warmly and allowed great freedom Photo wise. Thanks.