Thursday, November 20, 2008

I hate...

So tonight being as slow as it was, I had some time to nitpick customers again. And, once again, it came down to the same two groups of people. One is the group of people that I would like to diagnose with "Fatitude" and the second, are people that missed the memo of what race they are. Each will be have a new one ripped separately.

Fatitude.
Thank you Tom Rafferty for the creation, or at least bringing of my attention to this word. People with fatitude aren't always necessarily fat. It's a mental condition. The fact that this hookerish looking woman, with at least a quarter inch of makeup on got pissed at me because I was out of taco meat, and she had to be charged for extra cheese is out of my control I suppose. Listen, being fat is a job. A constant up keep of your own fat ass. If you want to stay fat, you have to make some adjustments. That extra cheese costing you a whopping Thirty Five cents isn't all that bad. It's a small price to keep that pants size rising you PMSing fat slob. And secondly, food takes time to cook believe it or not. Just because you're used to throwing slop in the microwave and bathing in it, which would explain the quarter pound of makeup, doesn't mean that I can do the same thing. You're paying me to make you a heart attack, remember? Third, the only person allowed to bitch about anything in my store, is me. And chances are I'm probably bitching about how you should go to a gym because you seriously, do not need to be eating something that would kill a small animal or child, at 4:30 in the morning. Go eat a salad. The economy is bad. And you're still getting charged the same price for all that extra fabric that you need to cover your fat ass. At least you're wearing clothes. If you weren't I would have to close the place down, not because you're not wearing clothes, but because the whole place would be covered in the explosive vomit that I would be spewing everywhere.
Simply disgusting.

Group #2 the "I don't know what race I am" assholes.

Apparently the fact that you grew up in a privileged home, with disposable income means nothing to you. Your parents gave you money, and you spent it turning yourself into what would seem to be a "gangster". Minus the fact that you're suburban average white Joe. I would like to state that this is in no way racist. But I would like to point out a few major demographic and socioeconomic points to prove that, and give a better view on this to anyone who may not know where I'm coming from. Buffalo has the highest black male un-employment percentage in the United States, or at least this is what recent social graphs have shown. 51%. 51% of Black males in the city of Buffalo, NY are currently un-employed. I do what I can. If you aren't a moron I'll hire you. I don't really care who you are. Based upon that fact, people that do not work, do not usually live in the nicest parts of town. They live where it is cheep, and that they can afford on whatever income they do have. Regardless of race, orientation, ethnicity or social background. Hell, there are more white people in the Tonawanda projects than any other race. Back to the point. People in the city, specifically the group that I have mentioned statistics about, dress a certain way. Rap and Hip hop have always been dominated by the black culture. And, just like every other movement and musical progression, white people have tried to steal it. Face it. People in the city have a right to make music about being shot at, arrested, killing people and whatever other crap may have come up. This once again, is directly connected to socioeconomic status. NOT RACE. If the music that is based upon your culture, wears and dresses a certain way, the way to fit in, and not get yourself killed, is to do the same thing. It's not a social separation, but it is. It's not a bad thing, but when you start forgetting that you did not go through the things that people in different circumstances have, and you're trying to steal their culture, there is a problem. I would absolutely love to take a carload of these race jumpers downtown. Not the nice part. The part where my father told me to be out of by sunset. No questions. Sunset, you're gone. I don't care if you're on a church trip. Because the people down there sure as hell don't. That's what I was told. By my father. Who used to live down there. On that street. Unfortunately, I know that I would last longer in that kind of neighborhood, than all of the kids who think they're the shit because they have a G-Unit shirt on. Listen dumb ass, you're going to get mugged for that shirt because everyone down there knows you're not going to be able to do anything about it. If nothing else, an odd looking white kid wearing a black dress coat, with leather gloves, and who isn't trying to be something he's not, has a much better chance to make it out in one piece than you. Dumb ass.

On top of that which ran through my mind in about 5 seconds when this group of douchetards came in, the black guy that works with me started laughing at them And, essentially reiterated what I was already thinking. Yep, white suburban kids, can't deal with the fact that they're white. Must be a shame. Or a compensation issue. Chances are it's number two. Kind of like that line in Shrek, when Shrek and donkey walk up to the castle. Shrek simply says, "Do you think he's compensating for something?"

Yes Shrek. Yes I do. Clearly, there is some kind of issue. Of which, I feel no need to discuss here in depth. Cause, hey, if you're intelligent enough to know what I mean when I use "big words" like socioeconomic status, then, you're ahead of this moronic curve anyways.

Stupid race jumpers. They're so useless. Hopefully that jump is over a very deep hole, or pit, or well, or cliff, or traintracks or something that would make it a much better jump. For me at least. Last but not least, they drove a camero. They half assed the car too? At least get a Cadillac or some goofy SUV that you know you can't afford to put gas in anyways. Allowance isn't that much, I suppose.

Hell. That's been a long time coming. Feels nice to get all that out.

I'm doing this meme because I disregarded the other one.

Line 5, page 56 of: Sir Elton

"in Soho and now had a virtual monopoly of white blues and soul acts, from Georgie Fame and Alan Price to Chris Farlowe and P.J. Probe. As well as the flamingo, they ran the Bag o' Nails

There you go Jon

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Tamed? Really?

So today I was rather abruptly informed that I have been tamed. I fought it, I tried to find ways around it. Nothing. Its kind of nerve racking. I mean, I can't even legally buy my own booze. It's clearly not to say that I haven't, I mean my friends dad owns a liquor store. So, you know. And the fact that I know most of the people that own the bars, and work at them doesn't help one bit. I suppose the fact that I should've died by the time most kids were buying lottery tickets and porn for the first time is a bit of a side story. But that's not the point here.

This is the point. I'm ok with that. I really don't have a problem with it. I've had my adventures, I've had my ridiculous nights. I've done stuff that people only hear in the worst cases at a free clinic at a hospital in a bad neighborhood on the east side. I think it's about time that I chill out a little bit. Or just all the way. Maybe not all the way yet. I'm still 20. As much as I thought I wanted to fight it, I really didn't. It's just one more thing that's happening at the right time. It's not even one of those epic stories, like a wild horse being put in captivity. It's more like, that horse has been relocated. Not held captive, but given a chance at something new and better. That other side of the land, that he wanted to see if he could get to, he's gotten to. And he likes it. More importantly, he's not going back.

There's a couple things I plan on hanging on to. Right now I'm endulging in some lovely Prog Metal and Industrial music. That isn't going to change, as long as I can help it. But the nights of me waking up and having no idea how I got home, and whos shoes I'm wearing, have gone kaputz. And it's alright. Even though I've always been mistaken for being older, now it's time to actually put that into action. I'm growing up. And I'm not doing it alone. Which makes it so much better.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Funny enough to poke you over...

It's kind of a shocker, when you end up doing something, or being in some kind of situation that you promised yourself, and others, and maybe even put money on it, that it would never happen. Or happen again.

HAHAHA. Got you.

A few months ago, my friend Mike, one of the 10 or 12 Mike's that I know left the place that I work at . Here's the back story; I got hired, I got him hires months later, I changed location, got fired twice, quit three times, he quit twice. We both came back and he somehow ends up being my boss. Anyways, we have a request off book. His last effort when he left a few months ago and moved away was to write in the book at the beginning of September, "Anth if you still work here now, KILL YOURSELF!!!!!"

Haha. It seems I haven't done that yet, and not to mention, he called me this week to see if he could get his job back. He starts this weekend.

It seems that sometimes not listening to certain people like Mike here works out for the best.

Otherwise I would be dead and that would upset a few people.

The main point here though, is that I win. 3 out of the 4 times Mike and I have worked together I've been in charge. Mostly this is just to say that I was right. And I usually am right. So the next time someone tells me to kill myself, just think about how it could suck for you in the future.

This entry is rather pointless, but since it just happened 5 minutes before post time, and I had nothing else, it needed to work.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

New Blog. Over there--->

I have another one. Because I do. And it may be more bitchy than this one. So go ahead. Go over to that side bar and give it a shot. Just in case no one found it on their own.

Oh shit. Catch that train

I'm the reason for a board meeting. Yeah. Take that other important issues and things involving, well more important things. I've been the cause of board meetings at church and stuff like that before. Thanks mom. For calling and having me put on a prayer list that gets distributed to dozens of countries and hundreds of pastors all around the world. At least I didn't end up in rehab. But talking to the district manager, and goofing around with him, he mentioned that "Oh yeah, that position you wanted. I'm having a meeting with the fat bastard about that this week."

Oh damn. My promotion (which I hope it is) is being talked about between all of the bosses that love me, and the guy I called an asshole the first time I met him. That's right. I'm damn smooth.

This meeting could actually hold my future in it. Long term future. The job that I get, wouldn't just be a job, it would actually be a career. Not to mention, telling people I work at a sub shack and pull down more than they do in revenue, would be nice for a change. I mean, sub shack. It's amusing. My whole life may have just decided that it was ready to take off and start going somewhere, in about a week. Maybe a little more. But mostly the week. I have this really bad counting my eggs before they hatch type thing going on, but honestly, everything just needed to wait and hit at the right time, to make up for all the bad stuff that usually hits at the same time. And usually more often. The patience that I've been trying to exhibit for the last couple years is finally paying off. In a few different ways. God's gotten me out of places I wasn't supposed to be in, bad relationships, bad jobs, bad situations. Even though they didn't seem bad at the time. There's something to be said about having the patience to wait through all of that. It's a bitch. Waiting, and almost growing apathetic towards everything started to take its toll. Then SHAZAM.
Slap me in the face with a pile of, um, something nice. Not bloody steak or a baseball bat, or brass knuckles, or a chain, or broken bottle, or whatever else you may have when you're drunk and sounds like a good idea. I would've said flowers, but, that would make me sound more gay than I already do. (Explaining why I have clear coat nail polish in my work locker was difficult)

Honestly, the only thing that I really need right now, is prayer. That the fat man signs off on this spot, and that everything else falls into the place allotted for it before the world was born. It's got a good start in case you were wondering. Just a wrap it all up Jesus prayer and hopefully, all will be right in the world of Anthony.

Monday, November 3, 2008

A new month

So, I pulled another one of those retarded shifts. Closing Saturday til 5 in the morning, then playing at church at 10, then not sleeping all day, except for that omen of 10 minutes that I was given. Then went and closed again. Retarded I know.

Not only being physically exhausted, I'm mentally drained as well. Before this weekend, I would take and physically throw customers out if they were too drunk or loud. I don't know. Maybe I'm getting old, which is probably a good thing, lost my drive to beat the hell out of people, or am just exhausted of this job. So I just decided to call the cops from the office and have all the drunks taken away.

It's been about two and a half years or so now. On and off. I was fired twice, quit 3 times and apparently am one of the owners favorites. That's fantastic. My hours still blow.
So tomorrow is right about when I go in to work with an agenda. Usually that's not me.

Work is work, but after this long, and still making way less than people that have been there less than half the time, and can only do about 1/8th of what I can, it's time to start being a bitch about it.

New developments may have caused me to grow a pair. Not just a normal one, but one of steel. Tomorrow, I go in, tell them I want off nights, or I'm out. I don't really care where they put me, I've already been everywhere. I just want a normal sleep pattern, so that I can use my time the way I want to. I've got shit to do. And new stuff keeping me busy.

The only real issue is that I have absolutely no fallback. That's a problem. If there was somewhere I know I would be hired at the same rate, just doing something different, I would wage a salary war between the places. Just to see what I could get. So, I think that's what I need. A new opportunity, on the employment front. The economy is awful, so the only place that I can for sure get a job, is a place comprable to the current life sucking hell hole.

Perhaps there is a second issue. I like my job. I really do. There are just certain parts, like working til 6 in the morning and then trying to live a normal life. It doesn't work. That's why the fat bastard they put in charge doesn't work weekends, holidays, or nights. I assume I have more out of work activities though. And, I'm about 20 times more productive.

Conclusion: I get that tub of lards job, get more done, and get a little more money than he gets. Ill be happy. I mean, with how enormous this dude is, he's not going to be around long anyways.
Those twinkies are going to get you. One way or another.