Back to bitching about work...

So this morning, I answer the phone to have a guy ask me about the USB Christmas trees we carry.

Me: Yeah, I got some in stock.

Man: And I hear they're discounted?

Me: No, they're ten dollars each.

Man: I was talking to a girl at Westmount, and she said that any store would be able to give me a deal on those.

Me: Well, it's really manager's discretion. That would be something my boss would have to clear. What the girl promised you at Westmount would usually only apply to that store. it's a case by case basis.

Man: Is L there?

Me: No, L's the manager of the store downstairs. M's the manager here.

Man: Okay. I'll just get the phone number to downstairs.

Me: Certainly. Here you go.

No problems, right? Fast forward three minutes...

I answer the phone.

Woman: Hi, I'm the wife of the customer who just called about Christmas trees.

Me: Okay.

Woman: I'd like to speak to your manager.

Me: I'm the assistant manager.

Woman: I'm wanting to get the number to head office because of how you treated us.

Me: (starting to bristle) Pardon?

Woman: The last time I called head office, they told me whatever one store promised, the others would honour.

(I'm pretty sure that's bullshit. The hairs on my neck stand.)

Me: As I told your husband, that's completely at the manager's discretion.

Woman: Well, it's kind of convenient that your managers aren't here. L's not downstairs, M's not there, the girl I was talking to at Westmount isn't working today.

(Because, I thought, they've OBVIOUSLY left to spite you, bitch.)

Me: I'm sorry, ma'am, if that's what Westmount wants to do for you, that's something only Westmount will do for you.

Woman: Give me your head office's number. If you're not willing to do it for me now, you'll do it when they tell you to.

I start vibrating in anger. Seriously.

Me: Here you go. This is my district office's number. If you really want these trees at the price that Westmount told you, I could always send them out to Westmount.

Woman: You can do that?

Me: If Westmount asks for them, yes. You'd have to have them bring them in for you.

Woman: So I couldn't ask you to?

Me: No, it'd have to be them. (Well, that's not true. I could've sent them out if you didn't decide to anger me. But too bad. Not helping you now.)

Woman: I'm calling head office.

Me: If you feel that's best.

At that point I would have hung up, but she kept on irritating me, leaving me to fume and vibrate in silence, because if I had opened my mouth at that point, I would have given the bitch something to complain about. But, man, after I put down the phone, I was needing to let out some anger, let me tell you...


By the Numbers: My Car

First off, does anyone know how to get frosting out of one's nose?

Yes, thank you, I've tried blowing my nose. And I know the main question by you, my audience, is "How did frosting get INTO my nose in the first place?" I dare you to eat a CinnZeo cinnamon bun and not get something like this happening. Yes, as a rule, only one orifice should admit sugar into it, but give me a break, eh? My nose is THAT big!

* * *

I've been the owner of a car for a solid year now. A few days ago marked the one year anniversary of me getting my plates and insurance and being legitimately able to drive.

When my parents asked me last year (before last Christmas) if I'd use a car if they bought me one, I said, "Oh HELL yes!" Since I was working downtown at the time, there was no way on earth I'd drive it to work, but outside of that? Having a car in Edmonton is very handy.

So they bought me one for Christmas. Nothing fancy, and anyone who's been reading my journal since last year knows most of the stories about me getting used to life with a car again. Bob (dF) had a car he was willing to sell, and my parents had two grand. Jago got a car.

Irony of ironies, a few days after I started driving, I was transferred to a store other than Ed Centre (which, of course, is a big shock for anyone who's tried placing me down at one store or another...), and had to start using the car for commuting to work.

Well, I didn't HAVE to, but it sure beat the bus.

And so, after a year of driving again, there are some stats for your enjoyment:

Number of accidents I've had in the entirety of my driving career: For argument's sake, let's say 4. There were some close calls, but I remember 3 for sure back in MJ.

Number of accidents I've had with the Escort: 0

Number of times Dev has shouted or moaned while driving with me: A lot more than 0. (Dev: "A WHOLE lot more than zero!")

Number of kilometres I've put on the odometer (rounded off): 7,500.

The amount of gas my tank will hold: 40l.

Approximate mileage I get out of a full tank: 400km.

Furthest drive I've taken: Either my aunt's outside of Sherwood Park, or Gil's parents' place in Stony Plain.

Largest load: The trip I took to the airport with Jaso and Rachelle after Fringe. All of their suitcases filled with a week of clothes, as well as the entire set to Smile While You D.I.E.

Number of dings in my windshield:
About six.

Highest price I paid for gas:
$1.07/l (Yup, I managed to miss the week of $1.20)

Number of times my car has not started: 0

Number of times my car has overheated and died: 0

Number of tires that have blown: 1

Distance driven on one totally blown tire: 6 km

Number of days I have not had the car since I got it:

Number of days between my tire blowing and my bank account being able to afford the new tire:

Number of times I have not been able to park in my driveway due to the sheer amount of snow: 1

Number of times I have not been able to park in my driveway due to the sheer amount of cars in it: A lot more than one.

Number of times this has been my, Canton's, or Dev's fault:
Maybe two.

Number of times this has been the downstairs guy's fault: Every time excluding two.

Number of months before I realized that I didn't know how to properly check the oil: 10.

Smallest margin of time between coolant fill-ups: 2 weeks.

Margin of time after the coolant ran out the seocnd time that I realized it was due to my oil being so low, it was past the "PLEASE FILL UP NOW" demarcation: 5 seconds.

Frequency of time between mutterings of "jackass" by me:
30 seconds.

Frequency of time between mutterings of "jackass" when Canton and I are in the McDonald's drive-thru: 3 seconds.

Time spent towards taking off the Roxy Boarding decal on my back windshield: 5 minutes.

Percentage of Roxy decal that's still on the car:

Ratio of thanking the Lord for such a small car to cursing myself when I can't find the small car in WEM parking lots: 1:1

Number of times I've let Canton drive the car: 3

Days that go by where I don't curse myself for not getting new wipers: 0.

Times I've flipped from Sonic 102.9 to another radio station since March: 2.

Percentage of time where my stereo is either set on Sonic or a CD: 100.

Cost of insurance, 2005: $110 a month.

Cost of insurance, 2006 (according to girlone): $70 a month (WHOOO!)

Span of time from getting my car to having it replace my backback: 5 milliseconds.

That's about all I can think of right now.

* * *

So now's the time when Dev is seriously starting to plan the trip that he wants to make to Cleveland next year. And he wants Canton and I to go along with him on his trek to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Which I am in for. I mean, when's the last time I made a road trip with friends? A loong time. And when's the last time I've gone to Cleveland? Never. So, it's a goal to get to for next year.

* * *

Yes, yes, yes...I've been neglecting my journal.

Even though I was transferred to the other store in West Ed, it's been a lot of getting that store into shape, followed by the inventory we just did this past week.

But I'm not totally blaming work. Or sickness. Or video games.

Actually, the NAPW has been keeping me pretty busy lately. The wrestling e-fed I joined four months back? Yeah. I'm having fun doing promos as my superbad wrestler, and I was even roped into writing one or two matches a week.

So it's been an outlet for my creative writing that was previously lacking, and this journal's suffering for it. I'm going to try to get back into the blogging mindset, but I have no idea how much writing I feel like doing from one day to the next.

It's just, you know, how often can Jago rant about idiots at work? It was getting tiresome to write about day in and day out. I'll still post, and if something really gets my goat, sure i'll tear it up like the Jago of more free time typing out shit.

So, how about those Conservatives, huh?

* * *

Just so people are aware, my choir's big show will be happening on Feb. 11.

Kokopelli and Oran present: Stories.
Saturday, Feb. 11
Shows at 2 pm and 7 pm.
West End Christian Reformed Church (10015 149 St)
Adults: $16, Students/Seniors: $13

So, who's got tickets for sale? Me. If you want some, feel free to email me, leave a comment, or phone me. If you know me, you'll know how to get a hold of me. If you only know me through this outlet, shame on you. And email me here.

But, please, by all means, get your tickets for this soon. Last year, when Dev, Canton, MFJ and I went, the HUGE church was PACKED! Hence the two shows. But I'd like to see a crapload of you there...