Judith

In retail, there are always going to be returning customers. In some cases, those customers are good ones who you don't mind seeing again. In other cases, you rue the day they stepped into your store and singled YOU out for psychological damage.

When I left Kingsway the first time, I was giddy at the thought of potentially not seeing these people ever again.

Now that I'm back? Guh.

I had the misfortune of seeing the two banes of my former stint at KGM enter the store today.

The first is Judith.

Judith is a paraplegic in a wheelchair. And she can't talk properly. And, I'm sorry, but every time she comes in these days, my blood turns to ice.

Because she'll ONLY deal with me.

AND because I can't communicate with her. (And if you know me, you KNOW how much I have the need to communicate. And how it frustrates me if I'm not able to.)

AND because it takes three hours to figure out what she wants.

AND because she's only going to return it the next day. And take ANOTHER three hours worth of time.

So I end up going into the backroom afterwards, ready to cry. Or scream. Or drink copious amounts of alcohol. Or all three simultaneously.

(Heh. Just picturing myself trying to hold down liquor while screaming and crying. Which makes it look like I'm gargling whiskey, for some reason...)

Judith came in today, and ever since I came back, I try to pawn her off on someone else in the store. Just so I don't. Because my patience is a fault in this case.

So today, it was Nathan's turn. I started becoming all busy, filling out waybills and rushing to the backroom. Answering the phone at every opportunity, and keeping talking into the phone after that person's hung up, so I can keep the illusion of "too busy of Judith" alive.

And I shoved Nathan her way.

After a while, he came up to me, and said, "Do you know this person?"

I tell the dead phone, "Hold on for a sec." And I nod at Nathan, still doing anything else to occupy my time.

She wheels over. "Aaaaaio. Aaaaaio." (Kyle. Kyle.)

"I'm busy, Judith. Nathan can help you just as well as I can."

She asks me, in her non-vowelled speech, about "movie machines," which I find to be DVD players.

I turn to Nathan. "Nathan, can you show her the portable DVD players?" And go back to work.

He sells her this small DVD player for $90. Which *I* strap to the back of her wheelchair.

And she asks ME a question, which takes ten attempts at deciphering.

I end up selling her a extension cord and a longer video cable, after about half an hour of trying to decipher what she says.

And I was right up beside her, and could sense the stench of the bile she coughs up. Almost twelve hours later, and I'm STILL retching over it.

So I send her across the way to buy a Lion King DVD. (Unfortunately, my constant attempts at breaking the Judith code back a few years ago makes me the only one who can really understand her on staff. And if *I* am the best shot at understanding her, it means I'm stuck with her a lot.)

And I go in the back room to vent.

Nathan's saying, "Dude, you deserved that for shoving her off onto me."

I look at Nathan square in the eye. "No, I don't. I put up with her for two years. I've paid my dues. THAT'S why I avoid her."

He looks astonished. "Oh. Two years? Okay, then..."

A few hours later, a Chinese man pokes his head into the store. "Kyle! Kyle!"

I furiously look for keeping-busy tasks. Damn. He comes directly up to me. "You're back here now! When did that happen?"

I mutter, "June."

This gentleman called me up a lot when he had problems figuring out how to locate his DVD player icon on the laptop sold by my manager at the time.

And so I became his computer help, receiving incessant calls asking for help. It usually led to tears of frustration and me yelling into the phone.

When I left, it wouldn't have been a problem. Until he somehow learned that I went to Bonnie Doon.

The phone rang one day.

"Good afternoon. RadioShack, your answer store. Kyle speaking."

"Kyle? Kyle!"

My heart sank. After I got off the phone with him, I immediately called up Kingsway.

"All right. Tell me the name of the person who gave out my new location to this guy. And that person will die at my hands."

So, yeah. Hopefully, this rant will help me ease out the frustrating time that today was. Good thing I'm doing stock at the toy store tomorrow, and then on my way to Jasper for the weekend.

Thank god. A break.

* * *

And man, looking at that last post, I really need to clean up my living room if I'm seeing that much stuff...Milk carton beside the couch? Must. Clean.

In parents news, mine are bringing me a dishwasher. Whoo! Another modern convenience I will cherish again!

Following a meme...

Interesting experiment for you to try out: (from this journal I found, who, in turn found it here.)

All The Brand Names I Can See While Typing Without Turning My Head:

Ocean Pacific, Compaq, RadioShack, Panasonic, Minolta, Canon, Reese's, Memorex, Fujifilm, Pepsi, WWE, Microsoft, Fox, Shoppers Drug Mart, Sony, Nintendo, Sears, EMI, Coca Cola, Nabisco.

When I look around the room, I quickly glance at Dairyland, Samsung, Snapple, Sprite, M&Ms, Black & Decker, Dell, Warner Bros (through DC), Marvel, Telus...

(Heh. For even MORE fun, let's see all the brands that have websites attached to them...)

Wow. Pretty scary, that. Stupid branding. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. Still tired from last night's inventory and subsequent day at work.

Inventory Rant

I'm going against every instinct right now. Because I shouldn't write when I'm angry.

But it's currently 2:46 am (since I'm disregarding DST for the time being) and I just got back from eight hours of counting crap.

AND I have to be back at the store at 10 am tomorrow.

So I get about six and a half hours of sleep. Where I survive on about eight, and thrive on ten.

Even though we have a few more people than last time show up for inventory, it still took us a while to get the first batch of counting, because there were some people who have never done an inventory.

When we WERE done the first count, I wanted to leave so I could get some much needed sleep.

Jeff asked me if I could stay a bit longer. I said I'd rather catch my bus.

He said my last bus would leave at two in the morning, so could I stay an hour later?

I grudgingly agreed. Because I was tired and am too stupid to realize that the bus stops running from Kingsway to Southgate at 12:45. But goes North for another hour.

In fact, D! and I were burned by this last week. But, I was tired and stupid.

When I looked up the bus schedule, I just yelled, "FUCK!"

Nothing I could do other than wait for Jeff to give me a ride home. So I put on my headphones and started looking for wrong counts. (Thank God for Andre 3000's The Love Below)

Jeff saw that I was all quiet and counting. He told Martin, "Hey, he looks like he's doing all right. He's still counting, and he doesn't look mad."

Martin said, "Don't approach him. He learned that he missed his bus by staying late. He's pretty pissed."

What can I say? Even though I was pissed, it was better to listen to Outkast and just do work. Sulking and complaining wouldn't have done anything.

But, time for bed. So I can actually function tomorrow.

And, Dev, if you read this, I might be a bit late for Kow today. 6 pm is kind of hard to make when I work until 5:30.

Grr....

My evening with Justice, better booking, and sweet hiphop action...

Spent an enjoyable evening with Justice last night.

It was supposed to be Dev, Astro, Justice and me. Unfortunately, Dev got sick, and Astro had forgotten about an evening at home with the wife.

So, just the two of us. I showed him my new place (we hadn't hung out for over a year), we watched some stuff off of my computer, we took off for some food and drink, and them played some multiplayer Gamecube madness.

We had fun even with meeting some people on Whyte, begging for money (of course). We thought these two people would hit it off fabulously together, one having just arrived from jail, and another who could do one-armed pushups.

They could go into the panhandling business together! Pushups and stories about jail.

Just one of the reasons I don't like to go on Whyte after dark. (Well, that, and the way my interpersonal dynamics with strangers completely went downhill after the assault...)

But, always a fun time when I hang out with Justice. And hopefully, it won't be another year before the next time we meet...

* * *

Paul Heyman's back in the WWE! WHOOOO! (This is the point where all you anti-wrestling heathens can scroll down to the next bit.)

It was a long time coming, with Heyman taking a break from on-air appearances. And he had a falling out with the powers that be, so his role in the fed was cut quite considerably.

But now he's back as Smackdown's General Manager! And already, the stories are improving.

Only one MacMahon on Smackdown, now. So a lot less of undeserved non-wrestler storyarcs. And not a hint of sewage jokes, like the past few weeks between Eddie Guerrero and the Big Show.

Nope. Just good ol' wrestling and old-school mentality.

Heyman books a match between the Undertaker and the combination of Brock Lesnar (WWE Champion) and the Big Show (US Champion). The stipulation is that if 'Taker wins, he gets to choose his next match.

So after the Undertaker pins Big Show, Heyman comes out.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! My first day on the job, and I make a mistake. I forgot to mention that this is a best out of three falls!"

He starts the match back up. 'Taker manages to get the two opponents counted out. He wins the second fall.

Heyman: "Oops! I did it again! I forgot to mention there are no countouts!"

Match starts back up. Big Show brings out a chair and hits the Undertaker with it. Undertaker wins by DQ.

Heyman: "Where is my mind today? I forgot to mention: no DQs!"

Match starts up again. 'Taker realizes that there is no DQ, so he uses a foreign object against both Big Show and Lesnar , and then wins the match.

AND there's nothing Heyman can do about it. Because no stipulation he threw on conflicted with a previous one. And it worked out logically.

Brilliant booking. Other than the Undertaker taking out the top two champions on Smackdown. So it has a bit of a way to go. Still, big improvements...

* * *

Picked up the new Outkast disc last night. Whee!

I love the way that these guys don't play by the hip hop rules, per say. They tend to experiment, and go out into new directions.

The new album, The Love Below/Speakerboxxx is both members putting out solo albums, and releasing it as a two-disc set. Some great stuff on there, including Andre 3000's "Hey Ya," a whole riff on the Beatles and Motown.

My only beef is that the last album by Outkast I picked up was their greatest hits album. So it was the top of their game. Some of the tracks on the new album don't quite measure up to the greatest hits. Which is understandable. But still...

* * *

Got to cut it short here, as I have to book for inventory at work. Fun times! The choir's Hallowe'en party on tonight, and I get to count how many batteries are missing. Wheee!

Two interesting developments, and a loss...

Yesterday, Jeff figured out a way to make me freak out completely:

Offer me my own store.

Not was the assistant manger, like I've decided to go for. The manager of my own store.

I was scared. And sweating. And thankful. But scared.

I declined the store. Jeff told me to convince him why I wouldn't go for the opportunity.

I guess I value the bit of free time I currently have too much, to manage a store where I'd be most likely working a lot more. Especially over Christmas.

Even if I had a bunch of staff like Nathan. Even with a whole bunch of help from Jeff.

I'll just be too busy with other stuff right now to take over a store.

Although I was amazed that Jeff and Mitch would think of me to take Westmount over, oh, say, all the assistant managers in the area.

Looking back on it, I think I would have taken a Rogers AT&T store if I were offered it, though...

But RadioShack? During Christmas? God, no.

* * *

I was over at the house last night, watching some more 24.

When Dev went to bed, Canton and I were watching a last episode before we called it a night. With ten minutes to go, I paused it to go to the washroom.

I do my business, and open the door. I said, I OPEN the DOOR! Stupid door! Why won't you OPEN?

Try as I might, I can't get the damn thing open.

Canton comes and tries to help me. We take the doorknob off. Try to tinker with the bolt mechanism. No dice.

Dev comes out. They're both trying to figure out what the problem is. I can't hear a thing, because the fan and light are wired into the same switch. The only time I could hear them talking is when I turned out the lights.

They pass through a set of needlenose pliers. I try to jimmy open the mechanism. Nope.

We consider taking me through the second story window. Not the greatest of plans, but.

OOH! The hinges! So I try to take the hinges off with the pliers. A bit of soap, and conditioner later, I get a hinge off. The next one comes pretty easily.

Hinges are sort of rusted to each other, so it takes a bit of manwork on Dev and Canton's parts to take the door out.

After half an hour, the door is off the hinges, although the house's landlord will most likely have to replace it. It's a little splintered at the knob and hinge areas. And they'll need to replace the rusted hinges and mechanism.

Stupid house.

Axler comes in to see me in the open doorway, and asks why we didn't try to pick the mechanism open. Once he sees how rusted it was, he just sighs and nods.

Yup. Stuck in the bathroom for a half hour. Always fun times at the house. Especially when I start yelling, "I'm stuck in the bathroom! Call my dad at CTU!"

* * *

Two days ago, I went to work, and brought my gloves just in case. (It's getting chilly here in Edmonton.) Or, at least, I brought my gloves with me on the bus. And promptly forget them there.

Damn. Those were some $40 gloves I got about five years ago. And they were nice and big and warm.

Looks like I'll be shopping for a new pair in a bit. Just another thing to buy when I've got money NOT earmarked towards rent.

Odd Transformations 7, and Hostage Pants

It's a dream like today's that makes me wish I'd either a) stop dreaming stuff like this, or b) stop jotting down stuff like this.

My dog was hurt. Bad. As in, he had some sort of disease or flesh-eating bacteria or something. I remember seeing him in the dream, and from then on, having to not look Piers in the face, because it was too traumatic.

My grandma's cat was suffering from something similar. I took them both to a vet, and they said it was terminal.

I remember asking if I sacrificed the cat, would my dog be well again?

And Caboodle was back for a cameo, trying to pet "Puppy." Which I couldn't allow, due to how bad the dog was sick.

Yipes. Why must I have traumatic dreams about Piers? This is the pet I've loved the most.

It's bad enough that he's got one eye these days, and that I haven't seen him in about two years.

Sigh. I miss my dog.

* * *

So I was doing some laundry on Saturday night.

My dress clothes needed to be cleaned for this week's work schedule.

When I was leaving for some hangout time with girlone, I couldn't get my laundry into a dryer. So I left it there.

Sunday, I woke up feeling horrible, and so I didn't go in to work. It was kind of a good thing, since I didn't have any dry dress clothes, and because I needed the rest to heal.

On Monday, I dragged myself to work regardless, and woke up early to put my stuff in the dryer.

Which is when I realized that my landlord locked the laundry room on Sunday, and hadn't been back to unlock it.

So all the was between me and dry clothes for work was a locked door.

My pants were taken hostage by my building.

Luckily, I was able to find a clean pair of pants and a clean shirt. And I scrounged up a mismatching but clean pair of dark socks.

Today, however, my laundry's going to be dry!

* * *

I had a fun talk with my friend Cricket last night.

Her MSN name was "I eat monters, burp!"

Which, of course, as I knew, was from a Dennis Lee book I read from a LOOONG time ago (and had the album on reel-to-reel). (Well, actually, I thought it was Robert Munsch at first, but Cricket corrected me.)

So it turned into a talk about favourite stuff from our childhood. Good stuff...

Dream Job

Yes, this would have to be my dream job.

Time to move to California.

And what the HELL was up with my dream about the musical and Nicole Kidman down a few posts? (10/07) Was I on smack?

Note to self: Stop dreaming those sorts of dreams.

I'd say something about just not writing down these dreams, but it's good in some respects to do that. Otherwise, they'd just leave my mind while I'm on my way to work. Although, it would make for a few less emails asking why I'm so screwed up...

Listening to: Outkast's new single (well, Big Boi's, anyway), I Like the Way You Move.

Reading: Some of Dave Sim's Cerebus (mostly Church and State). Finished House of Leaves.