Okay. I will admit. It’s starting to get a little too cold even for me..
Today, I choose to hate everyone..
To fight a battle with anything less than your heart, spirit, and deepest conviction is to trek through fire and expect to remain unscathed.
So last week, I attended the theatre department’s annual “Turkey in the Shop”, a Thanksgiving potluck in which friends and students, new and old, may attend and share in the joys of each other’s company, all while celebrating what can only be described as “palatable happiness”. (Try the Clauss family’s Torta Rustica. Chris brings it every year)
Much merry-making ensued, as I got to bask in such companies as Dylan “Mah Man” Parra, “The One, The Only, The Louis” Arredondo, and Ruben “Serrano, Mi Hermano” all of which do NOT have a Facebook and will thus probably never read this entry, but allow me to get to the point.
It was after such happy times that I walked to my car and was greeted with a parking citation from my college campus for parking in the wrong lot with the wrong permit… I was very displeased at this, especially considering it was Wednesday evening, the next day would be Thanksgiving Holiday (and I would work a shift that evening), the following day Black Friday (which I would also work a shift that evening), and that offices would be closed for the weekend.
I immediately began hatching a plot, to serve them up a revenge as chilled as the temperatures I like my pie to be… I said out loud that I would “Make them pay… to make me pay”. The citation was for $48, so when I had the time on Saturday, I went to the bank and I got these:
4,800 U.S. pennies, to the approximate weight of 26.5 pounds. I began wondering just how angry I was at this citation. Was I angry enough to unroll all those pennies? Or not that angry, enough to leave them as pictured. Originally, I had planned to have them all loose pennies and to make them count out all 4,799 pennies. I imagined them saying, “Sir, I only counted 4,799 pennies” to which my reply would be, “Are you sure? Could you count again?”
After arriving at the same count a second time, I imagined I would then add in the single penny I knowingly took out of the box earlier…
I just had to wait until Monday morning, once offices were open again, to gauge just how angry I was.
If you’re going to attempt to do something like this, there’s a few things you need to know going into this:
The older woman processing my claim seemed pretty tired (as was I). When I placed the boxes of pennies onto the counter, she just got up and walked away, coming back with a manager who told me they couldn’t accept it. When I asked them why not and pointed out that the paper sign taped right next to me stated that they accepted “cash”, among other forms of payment that aren’t “legal tender”, they just told me that they’d have to individually count every thing.
I pointed out to them that both boxes were clearly stamped with “$25” and “pennies” all over the cardboard and that each roll of pennies were clearly labeled as “50 cents”. His response was that he “trusted” that they were correctly marked, but that they would still have to open them and individually count them. My mistake was not telling them I would wait.
Before long, I emerged their office with this:
Don’t fight a battle if you’re willing to accept defeat.
(Source: deathology, via unironichipster)
reasons i tend to not talk
- people always interrupt me to tell another story because apparently my story isn’t good enough for their ears
- i sound like an idiot who just learned to talk two hours ago
- people seem disinterested in what i’m saying
- i hate my voice
- i have something really mean to say
- i hate you
- i repeat because this happens a lot: people interrupt me and never let me finish and i feel really shitty about myself because no one seems to want to listen to me
This happens to me often enough to the point where I consider not telling stories anymore, just to see if anyone would notice.
That (seemingly) attractive young woman came back. Apparently, she was also there yesterday.
She found me, remembered my name. I remembered hers. We chatted a bit (just trying to be nice) and she started showing me this bracelet she had on and going over each individual charm hanging off of it and it’s meaning.
She pointed out the Cross and mentioned she was very religious, and the lucky rabbit, and the “heart in a lock”, and the (there were like 8 things and she had like a paragraph to say about each of them, but she talked crazily fast).. She worked her way up to this empty spot and talked about how she had just ordered the piece online.
I don’t remember what it was called, but apparently, it was supposed to represent having two children, “like a stork”. She went on talking about how her mother said that she needs to have two kids by the time she turns 30 and.. I’m not sure how, but the conversation went into birth control and how she was on the pill and how she always made sure to use “Plan B” and how she didn’t want to have a baby just yet, but that she would keep it in the event she became pregnant..
And how that freaked her last boyfriend out (the one that broke up with her 3 days ago) and then it went into abortions and throwing babies away in dumpsters.. and then suddenly China got involved and the cannibalization of babies.. and then it switched back to her saying she’d want two kids at the most and…
"HELLO, MA’AM! HOW’RE YOU DOING TODAY? IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN HELP YOU WITH? OH THIS 15% MILITARY DISCOUNT? AH YES, THIS PROMOTION RUNS UNTIL THE 27TH AND ALL WE ASK IS THAT YOU SHOW US SOME KIND OF MILITARY I.D. YES, MA’AM."
She found her way out of the store. Now, I’m not too sure, but I think she was implying she wanted my babies…
Hello, alcohol, my old friend!
I’ve come to see you once again!
There was a girl who came in, right beofre my shift would end, and asked to try out a massage chair. So being the gracious associate that I am, I invite her in and she starts telling me about how bad her days have been and how she just went through a bad breakup the day before.
Normally, I’d be happy to listen to someone’s story and to make a customer feel good about themselves, but this girl just went on and on in an annoying way with a slightly annoying voice, but an equally annoying attitude that just said, “I’m the shit and everyone should love me, so I don’t know what was wrong with my jerky-ass ex-boyfriend, but he’s missing out and” on and on, it went, without periods…
Sadly, I was attracted to her for the first few minutes until I realized she wouldn’t shut up about how horrible her life is while simultaneously talking about how awesome she was.
Is this what it’s like when girls go through bad breakups?
Geez, I think I’ve been alone for too long…