My girlfriend, whose son allegedly attends a state University, is constantly handing money to her unemployed student. This kid drives a new car, takes fantastic Spring Breaks, and parties hardy all on Mom and Dad's dime. She sighs as she reaches yet again into her pocketbook to fund his latest escapade. She admits she doesn't really know why she does this, and by the way, the majority of monetary transferring is done behind her spouse's back in order to avoid the " You're coddling and spoiling that kid" speech. I've just finished reading an email from her which detailed yet other bank transfer. My reply to her is as follows:
I'm convinced that somewhere, there is a class, probably in the back of a bar, called "How To Milk Your Parents Dry 101" This is taught, no doubt, by some scraggly 28 year old "professional student" who after 8 years at the University, is no closer to his degree than the first day of his freshman year. However, this dude has perfected the art of living high on the hog ( no pun intended to all you Iowans out there) while remaining unemployed. He owns not one, but two snowboards, a motorcycle, mini-bike, car, expensive rollerblades and bicycles as well as a closet full of designer clothes that would impress even the likes of Calvin, Ralph and Tommy. His fridge is always stocked with the best imported beer and wine. No Schlitz or Annie Green Springs for him!!! By now you're probably asking " How can this be?" It's easy. Mom and Dad are just so %$#%^ing glad he's not living at home, that they have suffered the equivalent of a frontal lobotomy, thus making their hands go from wallet to junior in 6 seconds flat.
I must admit I've engaged in the bank transfer "dance" more than once. And yes, without benefit of my husband's knowledge. It's just better that way :) However, my kid does work and my transfers consist of 10 bucks here, 10 bucks there, to tide him over til payday. Nothing compared to the HUNDREDS, and no I'm not exaggerating, of dollars my friend gives to her son. Oh well....not my problem. But it was a good excuse for a blog!! Peace :)
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Does anyone know how to do their job???
I am getting extremely fed up and totally pissed off at dumbass clerks, newspaper carriers and postal workers. Today, Saturday, I went up to my post office to buy a book of stamps. Easy, right? Fast, right? A resounding NO to both. As I entered the post office, I saw the waiting line snaking out of the sales area and into the mailbox area. The reason? Two idiots with 23, yes, 23, boxes of varying sizes all needing to be mailed. One postal clerk...23 boxes and two fucking dumbasses. As I joined the line, the "fortunate" ones in front of me all turned and looked at me as they simultaneously rolled their eyes. Gaovernment efficiency at its best :) After what seemed like an eternity, which for me, I must admit, is about 5 minutes, I finally said " Oh come onnnnnnnn. There has GOT to be a better way to do this, people!" Focusing my attention on the clerk I quizzed her " Don't you think it would be a better idea to help all of us first and THEN start in with the big job? Are you the ONLY one working here today? Can't someone else open the other window? All I want is a book of stamps!" She looked at me as if she were trying to come up with some snappy comeback but failed and instead bellowed for "WINDOW HELP!" At last, relief on the way. My joy was short-lived as the "help" shuffled her 90 year old feet up to the counter. As she fumbled her way through mailing labels and sheets of stamps, it was finally my turn. As I turned to leave, I tapped Ms. 23 boxes on the shoulder and said "Ever heard of UPS?" and walked out. My stamp buying journey lasted 30 minutes!!!!
Next stop: Walgreens for a box of Sudafed, which in Iowa, AKA Meth Capitol USA, requires a photo ID, signature and your eye teeth. I HATE doing this... law abiding people are being penalized for the deeds of drug addicts who appear before a judge for meth possession, receive a slap on the hand and are sent off to engage in the same behavior. Gee, go figure. Call me stupid. but I'm thinking maybe some rehab or a year or two or three in some lice infested correctional facility might be more effective than making me sign my life away for a fricggin' box of decongestant! And to make matters worse, I stood there and stood there and stood there, while some overly endowed twit who took her makeup cues from Priscilla Presley's early days with Elvis, stook a few feet from me pretending to know what she was doing. I clanked my keys on the counter...nothing. I cleared my throat. Still nothing. I finally resorted to " Excuse me." to which "Priscilla" finally responded with a question it must have taken all three of her brain cells to compose. " Did you need something?" WHAT???? I just stood there with my mouth open...incredulous at her stupidity. I replied as nice as pie " No dear, I just thought I'd stand here and gaze at you all day because I have nothing better to do." Of course, this made my husband extremely nervous ( see Hockey Mom story) and he made a quick exit. Priscilla sashayed over in her stiletto heels...always comfy when working on one's feet and stood in front of me. " I'd like a box of Sudafed please." "Which kind?" "The kind that when I wash it down with a glass of wine it'll make me sleep like a baby and forget I was ever here." She glared at me and reached for the 12 hour stuff. Good doggie, Priscilla!!! Again, what should have been a 5, 10 minutes tops errand, turned into a 20 minute ordeal.
And now, the newspaper. For some reason, and I swear it wasn't me, really, our route has had more newspaper carriers than people change their undies. We are once again without a carrier. So, the newspaper company has been delivering the paper....by throwing it from a speeding car. So far, I've found it in the bushes, in the neighbor's yard, and in the middle of my driveway. Oh, I almost forgot...they also like to toss it into the huge snowbank out in the parking. After enduring weeks of donning my snowboots and parka so I could go outside in the dark and hunt for my paper. One morning, I couldn't find the paper at all so I made a phone call to report the missing paper. The rudest, most obnoxious "customer service" rep proceeded to tell me that "The paper was delivered and you just can't find it." I assured her I had looked and it was not there. She actually said "Yes, it is." and KEPT saying this despite my protestations otherwise. I figured out I wasn't getting anywhere with this harpie and asked to speak with her supervisor. He was not any more help. I finally convinced him that I actually had some education and I could assure him, the paper was NOT there. He agreed, grudgingly, to have someone deliver it. I also mentioned I would really appreciate it if they could please deliver the paper by the door. About an hour later, some surly chick with an eyebrow and lip ring delivered my paper...said not a word to me but handed me the paper and got back into her Chevette.. If i had to drive a Chevette I'd be surly too. Next morning, my paper was not on the doorstep but was instead, neatly laid at the bottom of the steps. There are only three steps up to my front door. They could have easily just tossed the paper up by the door. Apparently they were making a statement. Whatever. I believe in karma....I LOVE karma. I paid the next bill by placing my check and envelope in the snowbank outside the newspaper office. I went inside, said I had my payment and asked for a receipt. She stood there and looked at me waiting for me to hand her the payment. Finally she asked "Didn't you say you wanted to make a payment?" I said " Oh I already made it." She looked at me quizically. I then had her accompany me to the front door, pointed at the envelope perched in the snowbank and said "That's my payment. I'd like a receipt, please." I told her since that's the way my paper is delivered then I had to assume it was also ok to make my payment in the same manner. I only felt somewhat bad as she slodged thru the snow to get the check. I said SOMEWHAT. That'll teach her to not wear boots!! I got my receipt, said thanks and left. Next morning and every morning since, my paper is right by my door. I WIN!!!!
Next stop: Walgreens for a box of Sudafed, which in Iowa, AKA Meth Capitol USA, requires a photo ID, signature and your eye teeth. I HATE doing this... law abiding people are being penalized for the deeds of drug addicts who appear before a judge for meth possession, receive a slap on the hand and are sent off to engage in the same behavior. Gee, go figure. Call me stupid. but I'm thinking maybe some rehab or a year or two or three in some lice infested correctional facility might be more effective than making me sign my life away for a fricggin' box of decongestant! And to make matters worse, I stood there and stood there and stood there, while some overly endowed twit who took her makeup cues from Priscilla Presley's early days with Elvis, stook a few feet from me pretending to know what she was doing. I clanked my keys on the counter...nothing. I cleared my throat. Still nothing. I finally resorted to " Excuse me." to which "Priscilla" finally responded with a question it must have taken all three of her brain cells to compose. " Did you need something?" WHAT???? I just stood there with my mouth open...incredulous at her stupidity. I replied as nice as pie " No dear, I just thought I'd stand here and gaze at you all day because I have nothing better to do." Of course, this made my husband extremely nervous ( see Hockey Mom story) and he made a quick exit. Priscilla sashayed over in her stiletto heels...always comfy when working on one's feet and stood in front of me. " I'd like a box of Sudafed please." "Which kind?" "The kind that when I wash it down with a glass of wine it'll make me sleep like a baby and forget I was ever here." She glared at me and reached for the 12 hour stuff. Good doggie, Priscilla!!! Again, what should have been a 5, 10 minutes tops errand, turned into a 20 minute ordeal.
And now, the newspaper. For some reason, and I swear it wasn't me, really, our route has had more newspaper carriers than people change their undies. We are once again without a carrier. So, the newspaper company has been delivering the paper....by throwing it from a speeding car. So far, I've found it in the bushes, in the neighbor's yard, and in the middle of my driveway. Oh, I almost forgot...they also like to toss it into the huge snowbank out in the parking. After enduring weeks of donning my snowboots and parka so I could go outside in the dark and hunt for my paper. One morning, I couldn't find the paper at all so I made a phone call to report the missing paper. The rudest, most obnoxious "customer service" rep proceeded to tell me that "The paper was delivered and you just can't find it." I assured her I had looked and it was not there. She actually said "Yes, it is." and KEPT saying this despite my protestations otherwise. I figured out I wasn't getting anywhere with this harpie and asked to speak with her supervisor. He was not any more help. I finally convinced him that I actually had some education and I could assure him, the paper was NOT there. He agreed, grudgingly, to have someone deliver it. I also mentioned I would really appreciate it if they could please deliver the paper by the door. About an hour later, some surly chick with an eyebrow and lip ring delivered my paper...said not a word to me but handed me the paper and got back into her Chevette.. If i had to drive a Chevette I'd be surly too. Next morning, my paper was not on the doorstep but was instead, neatly laid at the bottom of the steps. There are only three steps up to my front door. They could have easily just tossed the paper up by the door. Apparently they were making a statement. Whatever. I believe in karma....I LOVE karma. I paid the next bill by placing my check and envelope in the snowbank outside the newspaper office. I went inside, said I had my payment and asked for a receipt. She stood there and looked at me waiting for me to hand her the payment. Finally she asked "Didn't you say you wanted to make a payment?" I said " Oh I already made it." She looked at me quizically. I then had her accompany me to the front door, pointed at the envelope perched in the snowbank and said "That's my payment. I'd like a receipt, please." I told her since that's the way my paper is delivered then I had to assume it was also ok to make my payment in the same manner. I only felt somewhat bad as she slodged thru the snow to get the check. I said SOMEWHAT. That'll teach her to not wear boots!! I got my receipt, said thanks and left. Next morning and every morning since, my paper is right by my door. I WIN!!!!
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