I thought they would go away when I was sick, but no. No.....*sobs*
IDs=NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL!!!
So, I'm in the mall, because my mom needed something and she happens to be working in Macy's for her second job. I'm hungry and actually have money for once, so I step in line for Auntie Anne's. Best. Pretzels. EVER! The line is sorta long, but nothing unusual for a Saturday evening. I'm behind what I presume to be a mom/daughter/grandaughter (or other younger daughter). The wait was not even 5 minutes long and the entire time, the mom is complaining about the wait, the first daughter is jabbering on a cellphone and the younger gril is screeching and heemin and hawin loudly about what pretzel she wants. Great.... Then this happens when she goes to pay:
Clerk: *after woman hands over a card* Can I see some ID?
W: What? Since when did you start doing that? I don't have my ID, jeez! Where's a fricking ATM?
C: *points to the center of the mall, where there is a large sign proclaiming ATM!*
W: *turns to me* God, seriously? Like I'm going to steal a card and go to the pretzel stand with it! Ha!
They then walk away in a huff and the clerk voids their transaction because there's a large line. I pay and give her a weak *sorry, I know how it is* smile. She smiles back and seems a bit more cheerful. The woman then passes me as I skip my way out the doors with my tasty pretzel in hand.
let's play a game. Your Nancy Drew in the Case of the ID Reasoning. Here's a clue for ya Nancy, THEY DO IT FOR YOUR PROTECTION! Yes, people can steal a card and get simple things. My sister's card was swiped and the only purchase they put on it was a pack of cigarettes, before tossing it at the clerk and taking off. They will buy ANYTHING with it, whether it be small or large! Do not berate the clerk because she's doing her job. Not to mention, why the hell do you not have an ID with you in the very large purse? Wouldn't that be one of the required items for when you're trying to enter another state of confusion?
Gas Pumping 101
Was getting gas the other night. It's really late, there's a storm rolling in and the place is dead save for me and a little mustang. I go to pay and chat with the clerk I've become friends with (I see a pattern here.....), when all of a sudden, the help button dings for the pumps. It's the mustang. And guess who's driving it. A sterotypical rich girl. Small, blonde, with an overlarge bag and oversized sunglasses (it's like, Midnight, wtf?), plus Ugg boots with Daisy Duke shorts and a pink shirt. Not shitting you. I about died laughing at the irony, seeing as this station is in one of the most nortorious part of town for rape, drugs and racial violence, apptly named, The South Side. I am baffled at this, because 1) She's way out of place and 2) She standing there, with not one, but two cellphones in her hands, pouting.
RG: Yea, uh don't you guys do the pumping?
C+M: *snort, wtf?*
C: Uh, no miss, this is a self service station
RG: *ooo* (imagine high pitched, foot stomping) But, I don't know how! Can't you please come do it for me? *whine whine*
C: Miss, I am not paid to do that. If you need help, there are some diagrams on the pump that take you step by step.\
RG *pause as she attempts to read the pump while jabbering on one phone and texting on the other* I don't understand this! Can't you heeeeeeeeelllllpppppp meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?!
C: *turns mic off, sighs* Oh jeez.
M: Oh no, please, allow me.
C: *shrugs* Don't scare her too bad!
So I go out to the pump. I'm dressed in black shorts, torn at the knee, black boots, with a black bandana and my bf's school shirt (gray button down, machaniac shirt). I come into the light behind her, since she was too busy texting/talking.
M: Can I help you?
RG: *jumps and nearly drops her phone* OMG, don't, like, do that! Now, are you going to pump my gas.
M: No, I'm just here to show you how to do it, so you can do it in the future. Unlikely of course, but it's good to know, don't you think?
RG: Whatever. What do I do.
So I take her through it step by step, even holding her hand to press the latch to lock it. I smile sweetly at her and she keeps stepping back slightly. Finally, it's time to pay. So, I extend my arm and oddly enough she gingerly takes it and I lead her inside. Clerk is about ready to die, but keeps his cool long enough to cash her out. I then lead her back to her car, open the door and close it after she sits.
M: Well there ya go miss. I hope this experience was as thrilling for you as it was for me.
She then tries to hand me a $10.
M: Nah, nah I can't except that. Your beauty is tip enough. *tip imaginary hat* Ya have a nice night now, ya hear!
I get back inside, clerk is literally on the floor, laughing. We then hear the girl talking. He had left the speaker on from when he was listening to us earlier, with the mic muted.
RG: Daddy, I don't know where I am. It's dark and there's a really creepy mexican....lesbian hitting on me at the gas station! Why didn't you have Carl drive me?! *whine whine bitch bitch*
Now, I know I was tan, but damn, I wasn't that tan! But still, her look will carry me through work for some time.
Curses to Some Workers
To the nurses at the local hospital: Yes, I know a possible pink eye condition and constant nausea aren't really top emergencies, but as I explained to the nicer nurse up front, I can't afford for doctor visits, unless I need a check up for something. Ambulatory Care wasn't open, so you're my next best bet. So please, don't give me a dirty look when you look at why I'm here, give me a brake and just be less mean. Espcially when I explain about the constant nausea I've had for almost a month. It could be a million different things, yes, but why is it that the first thing you have to jump to is pregnancy. I know teen pregnancy is high in this area, but as I told you when you asked before you suggested pregnancy, it's not possible. Boyfriend's been gone a month, haven't cheated on him and had my period not even a week before. So please, don't give me another dirty look when I say no quickly, with the explanation (again) afterwards. Believe me, that was the first thing I checked before coming you people. Also, don't give me more dirty looks when I can't remember something that happened 5 years ago. I can barely remember what happened the day before because of the SEARING PAIN IN MY EYES! Not everyone has a photographic memory like you apparently do. And PLEASE stop giving me dirty looks when I tell you that I don't believe in flu shots. When I got them, I got the flu 3 times in one winter. Stopped getting flu shots, stopped getting the flu. Yes, I see the pattern, and to me, it's not a conspiracy theory, so stop looking at me like a crazy person!
To the annoying woman in walmart: I don't care if you were here before me. It goes by who's order is ready. Mine turned out to be over the counter instead of prescription so I was in and out. Whine to you doctor about prescriping narcotics instead of eye drops.
*huff* I need a drink!
IDs=NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL!!!
So, I'm in the mall, because my mom needed something and she happens to be working in Macy's for her second job. I'm hungry and actually have money for once, so I step in line for Auntie Anne's. Best. Pretzels. EVER! The line is sorta long, but nothing unusual for a Saturday evening. I'm behind what I presume to be a mom/daughter/grandaughter (or other younger daughter). The wait was not even 5 minutes long and the entire time, the mom is complaining about the wait, the first daughter is jabbering on a cellphone and the younger gril is screeching and heemin and hawin loudly about what pretzel she wants. Great.... Then this happens when she goes to pay:
Clerk: *after woman hands over a card* Can I see some ID?
W: What? Since when did you start doing that? I don't have my ID, jeez! Where's a fricking ATM?
C: *points to the center of the mall, where there is a large sign proclaiming ATM!*
W: *turns to me* God, seriously? Like I'm going to steal a card and go to the pretzel stand with it! Ha!
They then walk away in a huff and the clerk voids their transaction because there's a large line. I pay and give her a weak *sorry, I know how it is* smile. She smiles back and seems a bit more cheerful. The woman then passes me as I skip my way out the doors with my tasty pretzel in hand.
let's play a game. Your Nancy Drew in the Case of the ID Reasoning. Here's a clue for ya Nancy, THEY DO IT FOR YOUR PROTECTION! Yes, people can steal a card and get simple things. My sister's card was swiped and the only purchase they put on it was a pack of cigarettes, before tossing it at the clerk and taking off. They will buy ANYTHING with it, whether it be small or large! Do not berate the clerk because she's doing her job. Not to mention, why the hell do you not have an ID with you in the very large purse? Wouldn't that be one of the required items for when you're trying to enter another state of confusion?
Gas Pumping 101
Was getting gas the other night. It's really late, there's a storm rolling in and the place is dead save for me and a little mustang. I go to pay and chat with the clerk I've become friends with (I see a pattern here.....), when all of a sudden, the help button dings for the pumps. It's the mustang. And guess who's driving it. A sterotypical rich girl. Small, blonde, with an overlarge bag and oversized sunglasses (it's like, Midnight, wtf?), plus Ugg boots with Daisy Duke shorts and a pink shirt. Not shitting you. I about died laughing at the irony, seeing as this station is in one of the most nortorious part of town for rape, drugs and racial violence, apptly named, The South Side. I am baffled at this, because 1) She's way out of place and 2) She standing there, with not one, but two cellphones in her hands, pouting.
RG: Yea, uh don't you guys do the pumping?
C+M: *snort, wtf?*
C: Uh, no miss, this is a self service station
RG: *ooo* (imagine high pitched, foot stomping) But, I don't know how! Can't you please come do it for me? *whine whine*
C: Miss, I am not paid to do that. If you need help, there are some diagrams on the pump that take you step by step.\
RG *pause as she attempts to read the pump while jabbering on one phone and texting on the other* I don't understand this! Can't you heeeeeeeeelllllpppppp meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?!
C: *turns mic off, sighs* Oh jeez.
M: Oh no, please, allow me.
C: *shrugs* Don't scare her too bad!
So I go out to the pump. I'm dressed in black shorts, torn at the knee, black boots, with a black bandana and my bf's school shirt (gray button down, machaniac shirt). I come into the light behind her, since she was too busy texting/talking.
M: Can I help you?
RG: *jumps and nearly drops her phone* OMG, don't, like, do that! Now, are you going to pump my gas.
M: No, I'm just here to show you how to do it, so you can do it in the future. Unlikely of course, but it's good to know, don't you think?
RG: Whatever. What do I do.
So I take her through it step by step, even holding her hand to press the latch to lock it. I smile sweetly at her and she keeps stepping back slightly. Finally, it's time to pay. So, I extend my arm and oddly enough she gingerly takes it and I lead her inside. Clerk is about ready to die, but keeps his cool long enough to cash her out. I then lead her back to her car, open the door and close it after she sits.
M: Well there ya go miss. I hope this experience was as thrilling for you as it was for me.
She then tries to hand me a $10.
M: Nah, nah I can't except that. Your beauty is tip enough. *tip imaginary hat* Ya have a nice night now, ya hear!
I get back inside, clerk is literally on the floor, laughing. We then hear the girl talking. He had left the speaker on from when he was listening to us earlier, with the mic muted.
RG: Daddy, I don't know where I am. It's dark and there's a really creepy mexican....lesbian hitting on me at the gas station! Why didn't you have Carl drive me?! *whine whine bitch bitch*
Now, I know I was tan, but damn, I wasn't that tan! But still, her look will carry me through work for some time.
Curses to Some Workers
To the nurses at the local hospital: Yes, I know a possible pink eye condition and constant nausea aren't really top emergencies, but as I explained to the nicer nurse up front, I can't afford for doctor visits, unless I need a check up for something. Ambulatory Care wasn't open, so you're my next best bet. So please, don't give me a dirty look when you look at why I'm here, give me a brake and just be less mean. Espcially when I explain about the constant nausea I've had for almost a month. It could be a million different things, yes, but why is it that the first thing you have to jump to is pregnancy. I know teen pregnancy is high in this area, but as I told you when you asked before you suggested pregnancy, it's not possible. Boyfriend's been gone a month, haven't cheated on him and had my period not even a week before. So please, don't give me another dirty look when I say no quickly, with the explanation (again) afterwards. Believe me, that was the first thing I checked before coming you people. Also, don't give me more dirty looks when I can't remember something that happened 5 years ago. I can barely remember what happened the day before because of the SEARING PAIN IN MY EYES! Not everyone has a photographic memory like you apparently do. And PLEASE stop giving me dirty looks when I tell you that I don't believe in flu shots. When I got them, I got the flu 3 times in one winter. Stopped getting flu shots, stopped getting the flu. Yes, I see the pattern, and to me, it's not a conspiracy theory, so stop looking at me like a crazy person!
To the annoying woman in walmart: I don't care if you were here before me. It goes by who's order is ready. Mine turned out to be over the counter instead of prescription so I was in and out. Whine to you doctor about prescriping narcotics instead of eye drops.
*huff* I need a drink!
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