So I'm sitting here thinking.
I know. I smell smoke too.
There are too many things running through my head right now.
One is how much I hate my job.
I cannot work there any longer. It is against everything I believe in to do my job every day. I have a very hard time working for someone that feels no sympathy for "the little guy" just trying to make his way in this world.
I work for a company that sells maintenance supplies. Anything companies may need to make their business run, things like bin liners, cleaning chemicals, right down to the take-home containers you get when you visit some of our local restaurants. We do a ton of business in the NEW area.
My issue lies in my boss's thinking. He has no problem jacking prices up 40-60%. I have a very hard time charging some companies almost triple the price of what we paid for items. Sorry, but unlike most people, I have a conscience.
I also have a hard time being the only one that works in the office. This makes me everything from Customer Service to Accounts Receivable/Accounts Payable. I have little to no accounting background. I can do the basics no problem. My problem lies in when trying to give my boss an answer to a question, if I can't spell it out for him - literally - it's a huge problem to him. Put it this way - I had to type up a "how-to" sheet, complete with pictures, on how to use Facebook. Seriously.
The thing that really set me off recently is this. I totally understand that it's his company. He can do whatever he wants with his money. Recently he went to a local golf outing. He got too drunk to drive himself home. So he called a cab. To take him to another bar. Then when it was time to go home (for real this time) he called another cab. The next day he had me pay his cab fare with the company credit card and write it off as a "Travel Expense." Sorry, but that really REALLY bothers me. Just like how he pays the guy that mows his lawn at home with the company account and writes it off as "Building Maintenance." Our office is in an industrial park. We're surrounded by concrete....
So I've decided this.
My wonderful mother-in-law and I toured a new college in Green Bay (my mom already had plans or she would have been with us). I only say "new" because it's new to the Green Bay area. The college itself has been around for 125 years with locations in MN, SD, and now WI.
I loved it.
And I loved that my mother-in-law is so supportive in this. My entire family actually. So with their help and support I am going back to school.
I'll hopefully be starting in October in the Veterinary Technician Program. In two years (God willing!) I will have my BS in Veterinary Technology. Something that I have always been interested in. Unfortunately it was never offered in the Green Bay area until now. I'm very excited.
Now I just have to give my notice at work and find a job that will work around my schedule. I'm still in the beginning phases of everything, i.e., finding Financial Aid information, how the Hell I'm going to pay for college, possible "moms going back to school" loans/grants/scholarships, etc. So if anyone has any ideas or hints for me please let me know.
Oh, and wish me luck. I'll need all the support an encouragement I can get.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Unconventional Lullabies...

My bestest friend Nerma will be having her first baby in November. Because I'm such a fantastic "Auntie" I was making copies of my kids' favorite things to listen to for her as a gift.
Yes, I know she reads this, and yes, she already knows about them. It's not a surprise. :)
This made me sit down and think about all of the different things MY children listen to. I came to the conclusion that due to my music choices my children are very, VERY strange....
When Bubba was born my grandmother gave me a cd of lullabies. He LOVED them. He had to listen to his lullaby CD every night. We even made copies for his grandparents to keep at their houses. In fact, he listened to it so much that my mother-in-law bought him a new one because the old one was wearing out! Sadly when he turned 6 he decided he didn't need the lullaby cd anymore. I understood...sort of.
When Pickles came along we gave her a copy of the lullaby cd. She wasn't quite as impressed as Bubs was. Her music choice? "Baby Beatles." She still listens to it every night.
I have made Cletus the Fetus his own copy of both of these cds for his listening pleasure.
So not only do my children enjoy good old-fashioned lullaby music but they love The Beatles. Bubs begs to listen to "The White Album." Pickles is a big fan of Paul Revere and the Raiders. Especially "Kicks."
Pickles is into what she calls "girl rock stars." She even has her own words to Joan Jett. "I Hit Myself for Lovin' You" is one of her favorites.
We also listen to "The Nutcracker," "Carmen,"(the Muppet version of course) and "Phantom of the Opera."
Halloween brings out our Alice Cooper records - really. Records. I *ahem* borrowed them from my mom. Of course, the Muppets are watched yet again..
Alice is awesome. We got to meet him a couple of years ago.
At Christmas time we listen to the above-mentioned "Nutcracker" as well as my personal favorite, anything done by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.
I have only myself to blame. I'm not a "Rock-a-bye-Baby" kind of person. If you know me (or if you've been following my blog) you know this.
When they were babies I sang them to sleep with my own versions of lullabies. At 6 months they were trying to sing along to Patsy Cline's "Walkin' After Midnight." Yes, I know it's a Country song, but as I'm typing this and making sure the link works Pickles came flying up yelling "HEY! THAT'S MY SONG!!!" Bubs agrees. "That's our bedtime song!"
They also know the words to KISS's "Beth," and "Hard Luck Woman," Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Ballad of Curtis Lowe," The Beatles "Blackbird." You name it, they probably know it.
This blog is already too long so now I'll compile a short list of my kids' "favorite" songs.
The Grass Roots - Midnight Confessions
The Grass Roots - Temptation Eyes
Lady Gaga - Bad Romance
Violent Femmes - Blister in the Sun
Paul Simon - Kodachrome
And of course anything from the Cheap Trick "Live at Budokan" cd.
Then again, when I was two Santa brought me the John Cougar Mellencamp "American Fool" record...
So, my fellow webions....what "unconventional" lullabies or music do you let your kids listen to?
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Grievuses, Pet Peevuses, and Mere Annoyances.
*Be warned. I'm crabby today.*
I'm considering adding my Wench Outfit to the daily rotation of comfy clothes I wear, considering my mood has been quite "Wenchy" lately.
I've come to the conclusion that I am the only one in my house capable of
a) Unloading/Reloading the Dishwasher
Really. I load the dishwasher as we use it, run it at night when we go to bed, then unload it in the morning before I go to work.
Same thing EVERY DAY.
Oh, I forgot to add that even though I do unload it before I go to work, leaving it virtually empty except for the dishes that either a) didn't fit the night before or 2) Kel used when he got home from work at the ass crack of dawn, no one else seems to be able to fill it.
I come home EVERY DAY to a kitchen full of dirty dishes, only to open the dishwasher to find it more or less empty and fill it myself even though I haven't used ANY of the dishes left on the counter. I'll say it again - EVERY DAY.
ii) Washing Machine
Yes, this is the exact same washing machine I have.
It has all kinds of neat buttons and settings on it and makes really cool beepy noises when you turn it on and make your clothing scrubbing selection.
Sadly this appears to be another machine only the Lady of the House knows how to operate.
Apparently everyone else thinks the clothes just jump in there themselves. Oh, then they make their way to the...
IV) Dryer

Yes, this is the same dryer I have. Much like its twin, the Washing Machine, it makes fun sounds when you push the buttons.
After having these fine pieces of machinery for almost 8 years now it has become apparent to me that the rest of the beings in my home have yet to figure out that c) the clothes don't magically float from the washer to the dryer and ff) the clothes don't magically leave the dryer, hover up the basement stairs, fold themselves and make their way into the dresser drawers.
Maybe someday I'll come home to a house that hasn't blowed up, with all the clothes nicely folded, or better yet, PUT AWAY!
Hey, a girl can dream, right?
Grrr.
I'm considering adding my Wench Outfit to the daily rotation of comfy clothes I wear, considering my mood has been quite "Wenchy" lately.
I've come to the conclusion that I am the only one in my house capable of
a) Unloading/Reloading the Dishwasher
Really. I load the dishwasher as we use it, run it at night when we go to bed, then unload it in the morning before I go to work. Same thing EVERY DAY.
Oh, I forgot to add that even though I do unload it before I go to work, leaving it virtually empty except for the dishes that either a) didn't fit the night before or 2) Kel used when he got home from work at the ass crack of dawn, no one else seems to be able to fill it.
I come home EVERY DAY to a kitchen full of dirty dishes, only to open the dishwasher to find it more or less empty and fill it myself even though I haven't used ANY of the dishes left on the counter. I'll say it again - EVERY DAY.
ii) Washing Machine
Yes, this is the exact same washing machine I have.It has all kinds of neat buttons and settings on it and makes really cool beepy noises when you turn it on and make your clothing scrubbing selection.
Sadly this appears to be another machine only the Lady of the House knows how to operate.
Apparently everyone else thinks the clothes just jump in there themselves. Oh, then they make their way to the...
IV) Dryer

Yes, this is the same dryer I have. Much like its twin, the Washing Machine, it makes fun sounds when you push the buttons.
After having these fine pieces of machinery for almost 8 years now it has become apparent to me that the rest of the beings in my home have yet to figure out that c) the clothes don't magically float from the washer to the dryer and ff) the clothes don't magically leave the dryer, hover up the basement stairs, fold themselves and make their way into the dresser drawers.
Maybe someday I'll come home to a house that hasn't blowed up, with all the clothes nicely folded, or better yet, PUT AWAY!
Hey, a girl can dream, right?
Grrr.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Hey there Little Red Riding Hood...

Today, friends, we shall discuss the topic of irrational fears.
ir·ra·tion·al –adjective
1. without the faculty of reason; deprived of reason.
2. without or deprived of normal mental clarity or sound judgement.
3. not in accordance with reason; utterly illogical: irrational arguments.
2. without or deprived of normal mental clarity or sound judgement.
3. not in accordance with reason; utterly illogical: irrational arguments.
4. not endowed with the faculty of reason: irrational animals.
fear
-noun
1. a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.
2. a specific instance of or propensity for such a feeling: an abnormal fear of heights.
3. concern or anxiety; solicitude: a fear for someone's safety.
4. reverential awe, esp. toward God.
5. that which causes a feeling of being afraid; that of which a person is afraid: Cancer is a common fear.
Therefore, irrational fear would be "to be afraid of really, REALLY dumb things." I myself have my own bizarre irrational fears. My friends and family will totally agree with me on these.
1) Thunderstorms. Ok, so a lot of people are afraid of thunderstorms. It's not like I go running for the basement at the mere thought of lightening. I do, however, talk alot more when I'm nervous or scared. I know, hard to believe, but yes. ALOT MORE. I also close all of the blinds in the entire house to the outside world, turn on all the lights (so I don't see the lightening) and crank my stereo up to ELEVEN, Spinal Tap-style.
I also have a tendency to duck every lightening flashes and thunder booms. Something which my father constantly reminds me is pretty much useless, as my height - 5'1" tall - will never EVER allow me to be the tallest thing in an area. Ever.
2) Clowns
When I was 3 my mother decided to take me to the circus. Keep in mind this was not your usual run-of-the-mill traveling circus. This was the ghetto version of Barnum & Bailey's traveling show. A couple of ponies, rides that didn't really work, creepy carnies, and of course CLOWNS.
Horrible, horrible clowns.
Considering I was only 3 when it happened, my memory is foggy at best (shut up. Lots of people have foggy memories...)
I remember a clown following us all over the Brown County fairgrounds. This clown finally decided "Oh! It's time to pick on the wee lass!" and started chasing me. I tried to hide behind my mom but this God-awful piece of shit clown wouldn't leave me alone! My mom yelled at Asshole the Clown to leave me alone, but he decided picking on the wee midget was more fun. My mother picked me up, pretty much told the clown to F*&K OFF and took me home.
This is why you never accept free tickets to the circus.
To this day I have an issue with clowns. I LOVE Stephen King, but the only movie I have never seen in it's entirety (because I had my eyes closed) is "It." When we moved into our house in 2001, for our first Halloween in the neighborhood my friend and neighbor Yori walked up the driveway with a big bag of candy when I got home from work, at 5:30 p.m., in the dark, dressed like a clown. We have a good laugh every time she tells the story about the look on my face when I got out of my car.
I hates me some clowns.
3) Refrigerated Biscuits
Ok, now that you've stopped laughing, hear me out. Refrigerator biscuits are SCARY, YO!
You gotta peel the tube and pray to God the little "POP" happens, because Heaven help you if it doesn't and you have to bang the damn thing on the counter to get it to open.
My friend T thinks this is hysterical. Especially since I hid on the other side of the counter when she opened hers.
My kids love cinnamon rolls and since those are the one things I refuse to make from scratch it's a treat when I buy the canned ones. Until I have to open them. Then it's a treat for my family to watch me run and hide around the corner while someone (usually Kel) opens the damn thing. Or chases me down the hall with it.
Either way they suck.
Both the biscuits and my family.
And today my blog does too since it keeps changing the font color and spacing.
So tell me friends. Any irrational fears of your own you'd like to share?
Please? So I don't feel all alone in this here blog?
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
It's a Twista! It's a Twista!
Well ok. It's not that bad. There is a slight possibility of us being taken to Oz, but as most of you know I have my broomstick all ready for when that happens.
Although the radar does look pretty nasty.
I'm not a real big fan of thunderstorms. I've been at our cabin in northern WI during some nasty storms and have seen giant trees explode after being struck by lightening. Our cabin is built into the bluffs that surround the lake we're on so we have no basement.
All in all it's not very fun.
Exactly a week ago tonight while we were visiting my grandparents we had another bad storm. This time it wasn't so much the thunder and lightening (which is what we have now - thank God for Wireless Internet!) as it was the rain. LOTS of rain.
So much rain that my kids went swimming in my grandparents' driveway.
My grandparents live about 4 houses away from Lambeau Field. The police had all of the roads around the stadium blocked off. We had a hard time getting home that night!
While my grandparents had a lot of rain on their street my brother's friends had more.
Muffin and his roommates Bootie and Big Ben live on a fairly busy street on the West side of Green Bay. We had fun playing in the water at grandma's house. The boys had more fun at their house..
Although the radar does look pretty nasty.
I'm not a real big fan of thunderstorms. I've been at our cabin in northern WI during some nasty storms and have seen giant trees explode after being struck by lightening. Our cabin is built into the bluffs that surround the lake we're on so we have no basement.All in all it's not very fun.
Exactly a week ago tonight while we were visiting my grandparents we had another bad storm. This time it wasn't so much the thunder and lightening (which is what we have now - thank God for Wireless Internet!) as it was the rain. LOTS of rain.
So much rain that my kids went swimming in my grandparents' driveway.

My grandparents live about 4 houses away from Lambeau Field. The police had all of the roads around the stadium blocked off. We had a hard time getting home that night!While my grandparents had a lot of rain on their street my brother's friends had more.
Muffin and his roommates Bootie and Big Ben live on a fairly busy street on the West side of Green Bay. We had fun playing in the water at grandma's house. The boys had more fun at their house..
Every time people would drive down the street it pushed
more water into the neighbor's house!
more water into the neighbor's house!
I have more pics but my computer is being stupid right now and the thunder is getting louder and my stereo is cranked up to 11 Spinal Type-Style so I'm cutting things short.
Anyone see my Sister? She was wearing striped socks and mumbling something about her ruby slippers..
Anyone see my Sister? She was wearing striped socks and mumbling something about her ruby slippers..
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Farewell...

Tonight will be one of the hardest nights I've had in a long time. This is a sad post. Deal with it.
I've always been accepting of death, no matter how hard or sudden it is. I lost my great-great-grandfather when I was two years old due to old age. Two years later my great-grandfather (my grandmother's father) passed away due to a massive stroke at age 66. The year after that my great-grandmother (my grandfather's mother) passed away due to old age.
In 1993 my favorite cousin in the whole wide world lost her husband in a car accident. He was 23 and a Marine home on leave.
2003 took a very good friend of ours, Tommy Steinbruecker. Tommy was the bassist for the local band Annex. They had played at BayFest the day before and were scheduled to play at a bar in the country the next day. After the guys were done setting up Tommy decided to go for a nice country ride on his Ducati. All it took was one mini-van not paying attention to take Tommy away from us. He was 26.
My dad lost his best friend Monte in 2004 to brain cancer. The man that survived racecar accidents, car accidents, and a motorcycle crash into a train had his life cut short by something no one could control.
In 2008 I lost my great-grandmother to old age. This was incredibly hard as she was with me for 27 years of my life. She was 18 when my grandmother was born. My grandmother was 19 when my mother was born. My mother was 23 when I was born. This meant that great-grandma was only 62 when I was born, grandma was 44. I was lucky enough to have 4 generations of Whicker/Seidel/Pelkey women at my wedding. I miss her terribly.
Tonight I watch the last episode of my favorite show "Deadliest Catch" with my all-time favorite captain, Phil Harris. I've been a Phil fan since before the show took off. I've had my CM hoodie for over 4 years. I sent my get-wells and concerns to Phil when he first started having his blood pressure issues. I sent my thoughts and well-wishes after his first health scare.
I'm also lucky enough to be friends, albeit FaceBook friends, with a personal friend of Phil's, Bonnie Rasmussen. Bonnie is also fricken' awesome because she's a biker chick, and I LOVES me some biker chicks! I was also friends with Bonnie back in the MySpace days, so pppbbblllttt on those of you against internet friendships!
Bonnie is an awesome lady with a heart of gold who has been taking care of Phil's personal affairs for quite a while now. She was the first person I sent an email to after Phil's untimely passing. I spent days crying for someone I had never met but felt like I've known for years. Bonnie was my shoulder to lean on. I thank her every time I get an email from her. She told me I'm a doll. Ha! ;) Someday we'll meet in person and have coffee and of course drinks.
Phil Harris reminds me of the men I have in my life. I grew up around bikers, drag racers, mechanics, gear-heads, etc. I married a diesel technician. You name it, I've probably either helped fix it, kill it, ride it, cut it up for storage, or asked to hide it. I'm not a girly-girl. Tee hee.
Watching Phil interact with his crew, his boys, his fans, showed exactly what type of person he was. A man you could sit down and have a drink with. My favorite off-show appearance of his was when he was on Paula Dean's show making stuffed mushrooms. Again, he was just a regular guy who liked to hang out at home, making bird houses and drinking coffee.
Phil was a biker. I love bikers. Watching him ride with Johnathan Hillstrand was one of my favorite things to see, as Phil was my ultimate favorite captain with Johnathan coming in at a very, VERY close second.
When I first started seeing the commercials for the last two-hour episode and heard Skynyrd's "Tuesday's Gone" I thought I'd be having a hard time with it. Then seeing Johnathan and hearing him say that he had the honor of walking this earth with Phil Harris and that' a damn fact clinched it. I'm definitely going to have a hard time with it. So here I sit, writing a blog about a man I never got to meet and never will meet. Then watching Johnathan and Josh Harris on Leno last night made it even harder. It's so hard watching a man I admire lose his life.
I can't say I was his biggest fan, as I never followed him from place to place, never made it to a CatchCon, never spoke with him in person. I'll probably never meet his sons or his crew, but I can still be upset over the passing of a man with a heart bigger than anyone could ever imagine. I'll always melt when I see those beautiful blue eyes.
Rest in peace Phil.
God needed a captain, and you're the best there is.
Monday, June 14, 2010
"Volde-Mart", or, "The Store That Shall Not Be Named..."
**NOTE: This post was written a while back. I just never got around to finishing it until today. I know. Lazy, lazy, lazy...**
I don't get out much.
But when I do finally get some "adult-time" well, I'm just as boring as when I'm at home.
Unless I have a DD I won't be drinking enough to make myself fun, and if I have a DD you can bet your sweet petunia I won't be standing up after 10:00 p.m.
Trust me on this.
So when I had the chance for an impromptu Volde-Mart outing with my friend T on Friday night I jumped at the chance. Keep in mind by the time we left it was already around 10:45 p.m.
Oh, did I mention that the only time T & I ever go to The Store That Shall Not Be Named it's always around midnight? We once spent 4 1/2 hours in the bottled water section of said store the day after Thanksgiving just to get two damn laptops.
Oh yes. We bonded that day.
Anyhoo it had been raining off and on all day. The rain had stopped by this time so all the crazies were out in full-force. Although Volde-Mart is not a "normal" place to begin with...
We pull into the parking lot, myself, T, and Li'l T, who being 5 and full of energy refused to go to sleep. So along he came.
As we were walking in I made the remark to T, "Look! We're now officially People of Volde-Mart! We're taking a 5-year old child with to the store at 11:00 at night!" Little did we know we'd be the most normal people there.
Upon walking in and grabbing our cart, Li'l T decided he was finally tired. T & I gave him our sweatshirts because T is an awesome mommy and I'm an awesome babysitter.
We wound up changing carts due to the extreme crappiness of the first one, although the alignment on most cart at the Store That Shall Not Be Named sucks.
We found what we needed, gawked at the pregnant teenagers arguing with their mothers, the older heavy-set women without the proper, *ahem*, undergarments, those wonderful humans with their "summer" teeth, and of course the "look at me! I'm out after curfew and at the VOLDE-MART! HELLS YEAH!" teenagers acting like they're wicked awesome.
We were the best-looking women there, with I in my t-shirt and capris, and T in her capris and tank top, both of us having extremely disheveled ponytails and little to no makeup on.
We get in line to pay. After 10:00 p.m. the store locks the doors on one side and only has registers open on the other for security reasons. There are 4 self-checkouts and two checkouts with cashiers. Seeing as we had very few items we decided to go the self-checkout route.
Oh, how silly of us.
T scans her items, pays, and the register shuts down.
Keep in mind it's very late at night and there are only two employees helping out in the self-check area. One is a very crabby woman who obviously hates her job, the other is a very nice gentleman we'll call Joe, 'cuz that's his name. Joe has Cerebral Palsy and is in a walker but tries to be as helpful as he possibly can be.
Joe comes over to help and soon realizes that he lacks the authorization to get T her change, which is what is holding up the register. Crabby Lady storms over, shoves Joe out of the way and gets T her change. By this time we've been at the self-check for almost 15 minutes. So much for a speedy getaway!
My turn. I scan my first item, and lo and behold, the machine locks up. I look at T and say "Fuck it" and rush to the next self-check. Turns out that was another really bad decision.
The older couple in front of me chose that night to take advantage of the AWESOME FRICKEN' DEALS on DVDs at the Volde-Mart.
Turns out when you purchase a DVD and decide to pay at the self-check, a store employee needs to come over and enter their PIN to verify that they were paid for and not stolen. These people chose this particular evening to purchase not one, not two, but EIGHT DVDs. And pay for them at the self-checkout.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the old lady (yes, I know it's a rude term but I was pretty pissy by now) scanned her items. By the time she made it to the stack of DVDs T and I were about to lose it. Then she scans the first one. "BEEEEEEP!!!!! BEEEEEPPPP!!!! YOU WILL NEED A STORE EMPLOYEE TO ASSIST YOU!" So Joe takes a hobble over and punches in his PIN. It's around this time that T and I notice the large X on Joe's elbow covering an obvious fresh wound, most likely made when he lost his balance in the parking lot.
Joe, being helpful and speedy, enters his PIN, scans the DVD, then grabs another one. Scan, enter pin, grab DVD. Unfortunately for us, and Joe, the oozing wound on his elbow was not properly bandaged. With every grab of a DVD he banged his already open elbow on the rail of the register, smearing more and more blood with every bang.
We were beside ourselves with a mixture of horror and fascination...
And then...MY TURN! Finally, I make it to the self-checkout only to have to deal with a large smear and small pool of blood on the belt. Huzzah! I again look at T and say "Fuck it." I scan my items, reaching as far over the mess as I can, 'cuz when you're short certain things are hard to do. Halfway through T says "Oh HELLZ no" and goes off to find Crabby Lady. Crabby Lady rushes over and promptly yells at Joe for not being more careful and cleans up the mess.
I finally pay for my items and we leave.
T and I say nothing to each other the entire walk back to the car. But of course, as soon as we are safely in the car with Li'l T buckled in back (now awake thanks to his short nap) the windows rolled up and the doors locked, we both burst out laughing, completely amazed by the show put on this evening by the players at our local Volde-Mart SuperStore.
Is it wrong that I'm looking forward to our next excursion?
Hmmm... ;)
I don't get out much.
But when I do finally get some "adult-time" well, I'm just as boring as when I'm at home.
Unless I have a DD I won't be drinking enough to make myself fun, and if I have a DD you can bet your sweet petunia I won't be standing up after 10:00 p.m.
Trust me on this.
So when I had the chance for an impromptu Volde-Mart outing with my friend T on Friday night I jumped at the chance. Keep in mind by the time we left it was already around 10:45 p.m.
Oh, did I mention that the only time T & I ever go to The Store That Shall Not Be Named it's always around midnight? We once spent 4 1/2 hours in the bottled water section of said store the day after Thanksgiving just to get two damn laptops.
Oh yes. We bonded that day.
Anyhoo it had been raining off and on all day. The rain had stopped by this time so all the crazies were out in full-force. Although Volde-Mart is not a "normal" place to begin with...
We pull into the parking lot, myself, T, and Li'l T, who being 5 and full of energy refused to go to sleep. So along he came.
As we were walking in I made the remark to T, "Look! We're now officially People of Volde-Mart! We're taking a 5-year old child with to the store at 11:00 at night!" Little did we know we'd be the most normal people there.
Upon walking in and grabbing our cart, Li'l T decided he was finally tired. T & I gave him our sweatshirts because T is an awesome mommy and I'm an awesome babysitter.
We wound up changing carts due to the extreme crappiness of the first one, although the alignment on most cart at the Store That Shall Not Be Named sucks.
We found what we needed, gawked at the pregnant teenagers arguing with their mothers, the older heavy-set women without the proper, *ahem*, undergarments, those wonderful humans with their "summer" teeth, and of course the "look at me! I'm out after curfew and at the VOLDE-MART! HELLS YEAH!" teenagers acting like they're wicked awesome.
We were the best-looking women there, with I in my t-shirt and capris, and T in her capris and tank top, both of us having extremely disheveled ponytails and little to no makeup on.
We get in line to pay. After 10:00 p.m. the store locks the doors on one side and only has registers open on the other for security reasons. There are 4 self-checkouts and two checkouts with cashiers. Seeing as we had very few items we decided to go the self-checkout route.
Oh, how silly of us.
T scans her items, pays, and the register shuts down.
Keep in mind it's very late at night and there are only two employees helping out in the self-check area. One is a very crabby woman who obviously hates her job, the other is a very nice gentleman we'll call Joe, 'cuz that's his name. Joe has Cerebral Palsy and is in a walker but tries to be as helpful as he possibly can be.
Joe comes over to help and soon realizes that he lacks the authorization to get T her change, which is what is holding up the register. Crabby Lady storms over, shoves Joe out of the way and gets T her change. By this time we've been at the self-check for almost 15 minutes. So much for a speedy getaway!
My turn. I scan my first item, and lo and behold, the machine locks up. I look at T and say "Fuck it" and rush to the next self-check. Turns out that was another really bad decision.
The older couple in front of me chose that night to take advantage of the AWESOME FRICKEN' DEALS on DVDs at the Volde-Mart.
Turns out when you purchase a DVD and decide to pay at the self-check, a store employee needs to come over and enter their PIN to verify that they were paid for and not stolen. These people chose this particular evening to purchase not one, not two, but EIGHT DVDs. And pay for them at the self-checkout.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the old lady (yes, I know it's a rude term but I was pretty pissy by now) scanned her items. By the time she made it to the stack of DVDs T and I were about to lose it. Then she scans the first one. "BEEEEEEP!!!!! BEEEEEPPPP!!!! YOU WILL NEED A STORE EMPLOYEE TO ASSIST YOU!" So Joe takes a hobble over and punches in his PIN. It's around this time that T and I notice the large X on Joe's elbow covering an obvious fresh wound, most likely made when he lost his balance in the parking lot.
Joe, being helpful and speedy, enters his PIN, scans the DVD, then grabs another one. Scan, enter pin, grab DVD. Unfortunately for us, and Joe, the oozing wound on his elbow was not properly bandaged. With every grab of a DVD he banged his already open elbow on the rail of the register, smearing more and more blood with every bang.
We were beside ourselves with a mixture of horror and fascination...
And then...MY TURN! Finally, I make it to the self-checkout only to have to deal with a large smear and small pool of blood on the belt. Huzzah! I again look at T and say "Fuck it." I scan my items, reaching as far over the mess as I can, 'cuz when you're short certain things are hard to do. Halfway through T says "Oh HELLZ no" and goes off to find Crabby Lady. Crabby Lady rushes over and promptly yells at Joe for not being more careful and cleans up the mess.
I finally pay for my items and we leave.
T and I say nothing to each other the entire walk back to the car. But of course, as soon as we are safely in the car with Li'l T buckled in back (now awake thanks to his short nap) the windows rolled up and the doors locked, we both burst out laughing, completely amazed by the show put on this evening by the players at our local Volde-Mart SuperStore.
Is it wrong that I'm looking forward to our next excursion?
Hmmm... ;)
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