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The Just Venting, Airing Out, Talking Shit, Personal Beefs, Problems, Anger Management, and etc Thread for 2014

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Comparing to me means you're following and/or feeling inferior.

Absolutely. The inferiority bit is a huge part of it. I didn't think I left any gray area for that.

I don't consider myself much of a follower, as I do tend to march to the beat of my own drum without giving a shit what others think.

Still, I just feel like I'm nowhere near where I *want* to be in life...professionally. That's really the only area in my life in which I feel "less" than/inadequate. I see so many of my peers, and even people much younger than I am "succeeding" in the professional arena/careers...while I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do. :dead:
 
I'm about to turn 45, and I still don't know what I want to do "professionally". I have a job that pays some bills, and I'm doing a ton of "side gigs" that I both enjoy, and which occasionalky earn some extra coin as well. I just don't feel like I'm on the same (race) track as everybody else. Some of them are burning up the race course, and I'm skipping along the infield picking flowers. :)

Lex
 
If you want to keep reading my posts as "my life is wonderful and yours isn't", I guess there's not much I can do about that. Just know that that's not how they're intended.

Lex
 
Dec 1 is World Aids Day.


As part of the gay community, I just want to say, if you're into random hookups with strangers, can you at least practice safe sex?


And if you're positive, please let your partner know about it before having sex with them.


The worst kind of gay men are those who deliberately pass the hiv virus to unsuspecting victims.


Seriously, I was on "Hornet" and came across so many men looking for sex, and most of them, they put " Not sure" for their status.


How can you be clueless about your hiv status while looking for sex on gay dating apps?


No wonder the gay community got such a bad reputation from the media and everybody.
 
A huge burden was lifted up off me this morning - my surgery on my left foot is now officially paid off. I now have one last medical bill to pay off, and then, I'm debt free.

This is a huge psychiatric boost that I really need in my life, right now.

Visible progress in my life makes me happy. I can sleep a bit more soundly, today.
 
What a rough night at the store, last night.

So I put my birthday photo cake order in Wednesday of last week - days before last night, when I'd pick it up, and take it to my store. I'd put it in with the supermarket behind my store - they'd done a great job, year before last. And last year, we had that massive ice storm that hit Dallas-Fort Worth, and shut the whole city down to where the supermarkets were literally running out of food.

Fast forward to last night...

tumblr_ng8mjvEbIS1r2prf2o6_500.gif


They'd literally lost my cake. The supermarket's bakery only requires 24 hour advance notice - I'd put my cake order in days ahead of time, so that mishaps wouldn't happen. Ya' know, that whole ounce of prevention thing? Yeah, no.

I'm outwardly polite - I do work in this business, after all. But I'd be lying if I said that my patience wasn't being tested.

So a manager has to come out and find my cake. Turns out, it was buried in one of the walk-in bakery dept. coolers. The manager apologizes and hands over my cake - it is so miscolored from what the digital artwork I had printed looked like - I think their photo cake's caketop printer ran out of the edible ink. What was supposed to be a bold red, was red on one side, and yellow on another. The photo of my face on the artwork piece came out Kermit The Frog green.

I don't argue, I just get my cake and go. I get to my store, out in the parking lot. I thought I'd have plenty of time to cut cake pieces and get to-go bowls saran-wrapped for my regulars that I wanted to share some birthday cake with. Nope. I get there 10 minutes before I have to clock in at 10pm.

When I walk in the door, I see both women customers and women employees all saying something about a suspicious man making them all feel uncomfortable, and he's acting creepy.

So I handle the situation and call 911. The police are on their way. He leaves my store headed for the supermarket behind us. I let the police know.

OK, so the coast is clear, so I can do my beginning of shift duties - take out the outdoor trashcans at the front door. In the middle of me doing that, a woman walks up with a prescription in her hand. I'm trying to tell her politely that our pharmacy closes at 10pm, and has since March 1st, back in the spring. In the middle of that conversation, we hear a crash right in front of us. Both the customer and I stopped and looked. A guy tried to pull into a handicapped parking space right next to this car, and instead rear-ended the car. His right-front headlight met the already-parked car's left tail light. The guy in the car, along with his gf stop for a minute to try and decide what they are going to do. They don't get out of the car, but instead crank the car back up, and start backing up. They continue driving in reverse throughout the parking lot, until they get to a spot where they can make a one-point v-turn, going the other direction toward the supermarket behind us.

I tried to get as good of pics as I could with my smartphone, but they didn't reveal much. I go inside and get the young girl and her friend - it was their car that got hit. I broke the news of what happened, texted them the one good pic I had, and, inside, I gave them the store's phone number, and maybe the store manager can pull security camera footage this morning. With the person who hit their car now gone, it's a hit-and-run.

After I get through dealing with that, our creeper guy comes back from the supermarket, mouses around my store, and at the Redbox machine outside my store, then leaves for the 7-Eleven diagonally across the street from us. I update the police again. I thought he'd be gone.

Nope, he came back. He asks for the evening cashier, who'd gotten off at 11pm. I told the guy that he'd just missed him, but that I'm the overnight cashier, and would be happy to help. He goes off to putter around the store again. When he comes back up, in come Dallas Police. I immediately turn on the guy, and tell the 2 officers the situation - that both women clientele and women employees complained the he was acting creepy (I verified - he actually was acting very predatorily, as if he wanted to kidnap somebody or get somebody alone off by themselves), and that the man needed to be "no-tresspassed". My manager's standing right beside me, behind the register.

After that, the night ran quite peaceful.

Plans - Now that I have the rest of the week to myself, I plan to live it up! I'm going to watch JJ Swift's cam show this afternoon, dinner at my friends' place (with a night off from the housekeeping). By the end of this week, I'm pretty sure that if all goes according to plan, I'm getting the Triforce Of Courage tattooed on my left bicep - my second one. I really want to make that happen. I might go to the gay district, or play around in the skyscraper district downtown. I also want to let my foodie side come out and play - I might be hitting up Whole Foods, or some of the nicer restaurants I've seen around town.

Really excited for what lies ahead.
 
JDC,
What a (want to be forgettable) birthday "celebration".

Why do I suspect the store didn't comp you?

Maybe you need a road trip to NoLA for some R&R.

Rumour has it there's a JUBber down there who has had a "thing" for three guys with the initials JD.
 
You had quite a day/night jdc.

I hope the supermarket at least comped the cake for you.

No, they didn't. It was just one of those unfortunate situations you just learn from, and move on.

By the time the manager on duty found my cake, I had only 15 minutes to be at my store. I had literally gotten to the supermarket at 915pm - a whole 45 minutes before I had to be at work. It literally took them a half hour to find that damn cake. The manager asked me if I was sure I put the order in at that particular store. I told him that I was sure I'd put it in at that store, because I work at the all-night pharmacy retailer in their parking lot.

Apparently, I was supposed to be given a copy of the order request when I'd placed the order, which I didn't get. So they look through their paperwork, and there's no work order for a cake in my name to be found - turns out, the work order (the cake order form), along with the photo of the graphic artwork I'd done that was supposed to be on the top of the cake - both of those had been set in the walk-in bakery cooler with the cake itself. That's why they couldn't find it - it was buried along with the cake!

Also, I'd promised my regular customers some cake, so to refuse the order, I'd still have to get a replacement cake - I won't go back on my promise to my regulars just because the supermarket responsible for producing the cake failed me.

So, with 15 minutes remaining to get my cake, pay for it, get to my own store, and try to get pieces cut before I had to clock in (before all of the drama at my store happened), I really didn't have time to argue the point, even though...

Number 1 - the quality of the caketop design was a complete disaster and a total fail,
Number 2 - this was a kinda expensive (about $20 USD), specially-ordered cake,
And number 3 - that the work order for said cake had been put in literally a half a week in advance, even though they only really need 24 hours advance notice.

So yeah, this was a live-and-learn experience, and I'm definitely going a different route next year.
 
It wasn't very good advertising for the grocery store, either - if your patrons and co-workers saw the shoddy quality workmanship they did for you, what would they think for their needs . . .
 
It wasn't very good advertising for the grocery store, either - if your patrons and co-workers saw the shoddy quality workmanship they did for you, what would they think for their needs . . .

I just filed a formal comment through their website, and asked if they would contact me. Let's see what develops. :corn: :corn:
 
Hey, I may be a Knight Errant with noble aspirations and an impossible dreamer, but I ain't no Pimp.
Just Sayin'
 
Just got woke up by a pretty severe hail-storm battering my window. At half 5 in the morning. A 'weather bomb' is also on it's way.

Gotta love this country's weather sometimes.
 
Just got woke up by a pretty severe hail-storm battering my window. At half 5 in the morning. A 'weather bomb' is also on it's way.

Gotta love this country's weather sometimes.

If anyone understands where you're coming from, it's those of us who live in the south-central United States. We deal with 100º-plus heat waves (upper 30s/low 40s for you celsius folks), dangerous tornadic thunderstorms, and the occasional ice storm or blizzard that brings us to our knees.

Back in July, when I had my eye surgery, the day of the 2-week follow-up visit, what was supposed to be a clear, hot, toasty day in Dallas-Fort Worth was instead, floodingly rainy, and so cold that going outside actually merited a decent jacket. In Texas. In the dead of summer. And we were cold literally to the point of wearing jackets and coats. We were all collectively scratching our heads, going WTF?!? Go home, weather, you're drunk. :?
 
I adore my two cats, and would gladly go to hell and back for them. But their farts...

Hoe. Lee. Fuck.

Their farts are legendary. And they're silent killers, too - you don't hear them. You can only smell the ratchetness, and by then, the only thing you can do is move to somewhere else in my apartment that doesn't smell as bad.

Pepe Le Pew has got nothing on my two boys.
 
I adore my two cats, and would gladly go to hell and back for them. But their farts...

Hoe. Lee. Fuck.

Their farts are legendary. And they're silent killers, too - you don't hear them. You can only smell the ratchetness, and by then, the only thing you can do is move to somewhere else in my apartment that doesn't smell as bad.

Pepe Le Pew has got nothing on my two boys.
One of my dogs, Cooper (a four year old Labradoodle) can clear a room out with some of his farts. They can be silent killers, too. You only become aware of them once they waft up your nose. And when they do, the best course of action is to move to another room.

I love him (and Alfie) to death, though. I'd defend them both to my last breath.
 
Strike 2 on my birthday stuff. The refurb Sandisk Sansa Clip mp3 player was a no-go. In order to hear anything, you have to jack the volume clean to maximum, and set all of the equalizer settings (bass, treble, etc.) to maximum, too. And its still too quiet. My headphones work fine - I tried the same headphones on my smartphone. If you jack the volume to maximum, they'll blow your ears off. So it's not the headphones, it's the device itself, the mp3 player.

I don't know about finding one that will actually work properly. Hopefully, my Triforce tattoo goes according to plan. We'll see.

The supermarket's customer service has not contacted me about the whole cake fiasco, so they might be getting a phone call from me in the morning.
 
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