the sound: Golden Earring – Twilight Zone
Twenty minutes later I was sitting in the back seat of a police car on my way to my parent’s home…the father had sent in reinforcements.
We arrived home to my mother sitting on the couch in the living room with the bother and the blister and 4 of the officers that worked for my father milling around. I sat with my mother and asked “hi mom…..what’s going on?”
“Your father is once again concerned with how the results of your actions affect the rest of the family” she said….scathingly.
“but mom…these guys are small potatoes…their just cheap thugs…and not even really good thugs….they seriously couldn’t organize something like this…someone else did the thinking for them...I just know it!” I started.
“His point exactly Baby, once again, that calibre of people you are making your life with can and will take the law into their own hands….your father is just not taking any chances…he will not allow your need to ‘do your own thing’ cause harm to anyone else.”
“oh blah blah blah”…I replied, and then sat back and remembered the sound of the rifle as it exploded so close to my head, and the sound of the bullet going into the wall where I’d been sitting. “maybe she’s got something there” I thought.
My father…ever the pragmatist was on the phone to the local police department ‘making arrangements’ and no sooner had I finished this conversation with my mother he and another officer furtively whisked me out the door, into the back seat of the patrol car and off to his office.
“In a police car twice in one day” I thought…”this can’t be good.”
At the police station my father and his men rallied around loaded for bear, they truly seemed caught up in the expectation that Frankie and Bennie might come bursting through the door with guns blazing.
I on the other hand was not so convinced….and as always in the presence of my father was beginning to feel pushed around and just the tiniest bit belligerent in return.
Two detectives from the local PD arrived and in no time at all I was ensconced in a small room with them, one of my father’s men and a stenographer to take notes.
I made a cursory statement about the robbery and then they began to grill me.
In not time at all I was at the ‘refusing to further answer’ stage of my morning. I was tired, and pissed and disgusted with being treated like, what I considered at criminal might be treated.
Just to firm my resolve, at a moment when I was being particularly obstinate about not sharing what had happened the police officer that worked for my father asked me if I was aware that someone had “taken shots” at my parent’s home that night?
What?...what do you mean shots? I asked.
“shots Baby…with a gun you bloody fool!” came the reply
I drew in a breath, my initial gut reaction was to tell them nothing further but then three things occurred to me simultaneously. One being that everyone at the hotel had known but me, two being that I had come very very close to loosing my life to a junkie and three that in fact a life had been lost, Amelia had lost her child.
I resolved to be done with the kind of people that would take life so lightly, mine, Amelia’s baby’s nor that of the rest of my family.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
an apology of sorts
seems that I've created a blog reading monster
er two
LoL
seems that I'm wasting time here cos I'm at another impasse - for 2 reasons
one is that my crohn's has kicked into high gear in the last 48 hours (see what happens when I try and eat all healthy and shyte?) and my guts are making each and every centimeter of themselves known publically...if ya get my drift...can we say OWWWWWWWWWWWWW?
the other is that while I'm hard pressed to think about the story when I feel suspiciously like a trip to the hospital may be in my near future (so I'm surfing etc to try to focus elsewhere).....truly I can't decide how much more of this story detail to go into without releasing the value that will have every little bit of rot and hatred I've lived through come spewing out...cos while it may be cathartic...it likely won't make me any friends.
so I'm searching for my flow...without completely ruinin the whole damn story.... so stay tuned...
and
...that's my story and I'm stickin to it!
er two
LoL
seems that I'm wasting time here cos I'm at another impasse - for 2 reasons
one is that my crohn's has kicked into high gear in the last 48 hours (see what happens when I try and eat all healthy and shyte?) and my guts are making each and every centimeter of themselves known publically...if ya get my drift...can we say OWWWWWWWWWWWWW?
the other is that while I'm hard pressed to think about the story when I feel suspiciously like a trip to the hospital may be in my near future (so I'm surfing etc to try to focus elsewhere).....truly I can't decide how much more of this story detail to go into without releasing the value that will have every little bit of rot and hatred I've lived through come spewing out...cos while it may be cathartic...it likely won't make me any friends.
so I'm searching for my flow...without completely ruinin the whole damn story.... so stay tuned...
and
...that's my story and I'm stickin to it!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Chapter 49
the sound: AC/DC – Back in Black, Guns n Roses – Welcome to the Jungle, Nazereth - Razamanaz, Golden Earing – Twilight Zone, Three Dog Night - One
Like I said, the rest is kinda anticlimactic. We waited about an hour, er until I stopped being shocked, appalled and/or frightened and got back to the business of being raving mad.
During that period of time, I stood by the broken window and watched the “Frankie and Bennie follies” in the parking lot.
First they argued, then they fought, then they argued some more, it was very seriously like watching what you would assume people looked like in an asylum when ungoverned. Eventually they stopped rolling around in the dirt like children and got into the car and drove off.
As they drove out of the parking lot I climbed up on the wall of plywood boxes holding all the liquor and from there kicked the slats off of the broken window. I was out the window and around the hotel to the front office and calling the police before anyone could catch up to me.
I then went back into the bar and unlocked the door and let everyone out (taking the time to rescue my own personal bottle of tequila in the process) By the time the police got there I had consumed more liquor than I ever had in one sitting, but I was stone cold sober cos I was mad.
The police took statements from everyone present and as I sat up against the wall watching and listening I came to realize that every single one of the people there had known prior to the event. Even Big Jack who’d got his face kicked had known what was to transpire. Every single one of them but me had been told.
And every single one of them was lying to the police.
Not one person that was there described Frankie or Bennie, or named them, or even remotely suggested that there might be some kind of a tie in between the manager and his sons and what had gone on that evening.
Round about 5 AM when we all had finished with the police and headed to one of the barmaid’s homes nearby, I was sitting at her formal cherry wood dining room table on a full, but still quiet burn when the call came in that Amelia, the front desk clerk had lost her baby.
I got up and walked out the front door. I walked to the end of the driveway and started up the road heading towards my home. I was about a mile down the road before the tears started. But once they did, I knew what I had to do.
By the time I got home I knew 2 things, I was done with playing the game that Do-All had set up for the hotel and as such I was oh so done with dealing with the “Frankie and Bennie follies” but mostly I knew that Amelia didn’t deserve what had happened to her and her little family that night. That Amelia losing a child she and her husband had hoped and prayed for during their 8 year marriage was gonna be where I drew the moral line.
I picked up the phone and called the one person who could hold them accountable where I couldn't....one person I hadn't spoken too in years.
I called my father the cop.
Like I said, the rest is kinda anticlimactic. We waited about an hour, er until I stopped being shocked, appalled and/or frightened and got back to the business of being raving mad.
During that period of time, I stood by the broken window and watched the “Frankie and Bennie follies” in the parking lot.
First they argued, then they fought, then they argued some more, it was very seriously like watching what you would assume people looked like in an asylum when ungoverned. Eventually they stopped rolling around in the dirt like children and got into the car and drove off.
As they drove out of the parking lot I climbed up on the wall of plywood boxes holding all the liquor and from there kicked the slats off of the broken window. I was out the window and around the hotel to the front office and calling the police before anyone could catch up to me.
I then went back into the bar and unlocked the door and let everyone out (taking the time to rescue my own personal bottle of tequila in the process) By the time the police got there I had consumed more liquor than I ever had in one sitting, but I was stone cold sober cos I was mad.
The police took statements from everyone present and as I sat up against the wall watching and listening I came to realize that every single one of the people there had known prior to the event. Even Big Jack who’d got his face kicked had known what was to transpire. Every single one of them but me had been told.
And every single one of them was lying to the police.
Not one person that was there described Frankie or Bennie, or named them, or even remotely suggested that there might be some kind of a tie in between the manager and his sons and what had gone on that evening.
Round about 5 AM when we all had finished with the police and headed to one of the barmaid’s homes nearby, I was sitting at her formal cherry wood dining room table on a full, but still quiet burn when the call came in that Amelia, the front desk clerk had lost her baby.
I got up and walked out the front door. I walked to the end of the driveway and started up the road heading towards my home. I was about a mile down the road before the tears started. But once they did, I knew what I had to do.
By the time I got home I knew 2 things, I was done with playing the game that Do-All had set up for the hotel and as such I was oh so done with dealing with the “Frankie and Bennie follies” but mostly I knew that Amelia didn’t deserve what had happened to her and her little family that night. That Amelia losing a child she and her husband had hoped and prayed for during their 8 year marriage was gonna be where I drew the moral line.
I picked up the phone and called the one person who could hold them accountable where I couldn't....one person I hadn't spoken too in years.
I called my father the cop.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Chapter 48
the sound: Allman Brothers – Whipping Post, Three Dog Night – Liar, The Guess Who – No Time, Joe Cocker – She Came in Through the Bathroom Window, The Who – Pinball Wizard, Procul Harum – Nothing that I didn’t Know, Pink Floyd – Money, SuperTramp – Crime of the Century
“YOU” he shrieked at me…”you get the money bag and bring it here Baby”, His voice raising an octave as he spoke.
Dazed I got up from the floor and staggered up the mezzanine stairs to the bar with Frankie following me. We got to the cash register and I just stood there. He stuck the rifle stock in my back and pushed me a little….”get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it” he began to twitch.
“I….I can’t…” I paused and he pushed into my back again. “I can’t, I don’t have the key” I said thinking of my grandfather and all the years he’d worked to own that hotel.
Frankie rose up and raised the rifle as if to strike me with the butt and as I shrunk back from him he started to laugh manically “Good one Baby…now open the fucking drawer and STOP FUCKING AROUND” as he turned the rifle around to point it at my head.
In the background I could hear Bennie whining a steady litany of “no no no no no no no no” and the collective breath of all 30 people in the room suck in at once.
In that split second I knew once again that Frankie and Bennie both had somehow slipped over the edge. That although I knew it was them, and they knew I knew who they were, and that they knew that every last one of us in that room knew who they were. I was gonna give him that money or I was not going to live to see dawn.
Once I’d made the decision the rest was easy. I’d loaded the dirty white canvas deposit bag with every single bill out of the register making the rest of the night kind of anticlimactic.
They herded us all into the liquor storeroom and locked us in, telling us that should anyone attempt to leave in the next 6 hours we would die. We all stood as if frozen for a moment and then gradually people began to move about and talk.
I sat on a case of scotch and took in my surroundings. A year ago Frankie and Bennie had build the very square boxlike plywood shelves that lined the walls of the room and now housed all the different brands of liquor from special stock whiskeys to liqueurs to champagnes.
Two weeks ago someone had broken in through the window and smashed a bunch of bottles and stole some stuff and the window hadn’t been completely repaired yet. I could still see the parking lot through the slats of wood Do-all had nailed over the window while we waited for repair.
As I reached into the box labeled "tequila" and pulled out a bottle, cracking it open and raising it to my lips, I heard the voices of Brenda and Peanut as they murmured platitudes to Big Jack who was coming round to a broken jaw. I heard the sound of Penny consoling Amelia, the front desk clerk and assuring her that no damage had come to her unborn child.
I heard the general whispering and twittering of all the people that were locked in that dark room with me but mostly I heard Frankie’s voice as he presented me with the roses earlier in the evening. “I just want to give the pretty Baby some flowers” Frankie had simpered as he leaned towards me and shoved the roses into my beer filled hands forcing me to catch them with my arms. “and to say…..a friend is a friend and family is family….right Baby?” and I knew without any doubt, with absolutely no question at all that this robbery smacked of Do-all through and through.
“YOU” he shrieked at me…”you get the money bag and bring it here Baby”, His voice raising an octave as he spoke.
Dazed I got up from the floor and staggered up the mezzanine stairs to the bar with Frankie following me. We got to the cash register and I just stood there. He stuck the rifle stock in my back and pushed me a little….”get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it” he began to twitch.
“I….I can’t…” I paused and he pushed into my back again. “I can’t, I don’t have the key” I said thinking of my grandfather and all the years he’d worked to own that hotel.
Frankie rose up and raised the rifle as if to strike me with the butt and as I shrunk back from him he started to laugh manically “Good one Baby…now open the fucking drawer and STOP FUCKING AROUND” as he turned the rifle around to point it at my head.
In the background I could hear Bennie whining a steady litany of “no no no no no no no no” and the collective breath of all 30 people in the room suck in at once.
In that split second I knew once again that Frankie and Bennie both had somehow slipped over the edge. That although I knew it was them, and they knew I knew who they were, and that they knew that every last one of us in that room knew who they were. I was gonna give him that money or I was not going to live to see dawn.
Once I’d made the decision the rest was easy. I’d loaded the dirty white canvas deposit bag with every single bill out of the register making the rest of the night kind of anticlimactic.
They herded us all into the liquor storeroom and locked us in, telling us that should anyone attempt to leave in the next 6 hours we would die. We all stood as if frozen for a moment and then gradually people began to move about and talk.
I sat on a case of scotch and took in my surroundings. A year ago Frankie and Bennie had build the very square boxlike plywood shelves that lined the walls of the room and now housed all the different brands of liquor from special stock whiskeys to liqueurs to champagnes.
Two weeks ago someone had broken in through the window and smashed a bunch of bottles and stole some stuff and the window hadn’t been completely repaired yet. I could still see the parking lot through the slats of wood Do-all had nailed over the window while we waited for repair.
As I reached into the box labeled "tequila" and pulled out a bottle, cracking it open and raising it to my lips, I heard the voices of Brenda and Peanut as they murmured platitudes to Big Jack who was coming round to a broken jaw. I heard the sound of Penny consoling Amelia, the front desk clerk and assuring her that no damage had come to her unborn child.
I heard the general whispering and twittering of all the people that were locked in that dark room with me but mostly I heard Frankie’s voice as he presented me with the roses earlier in the evening. “I just want to give the pretty Baby some flowers” Frankie had simpered as he leaned towards me and shoved the roses into my beer filled hands forcing me to catch them with my arms. “and to say…..a friend is a friend and family is family….right Baby?” and I knew without any doubt, with absolutely no question at all that this robbery smacked of Do-all through and through.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Rant du jour...
Last night was the series premier
of the 3 year old tv series
"Dexter"
on CTV
we got to see the fist episode of season one
I've been hearing some of my US friends
speaking positively about this show
and how much they were looking forward to it
so I watched it
to see what's what
here's the premise:
a young boy is so badly abused that by the time he
reaches foster care he kills animals
on a regular basis
as he grows older he continues
only now his foster father the cop
knows what he's doing and suggests
that the next time
he gets the "urge"
he speak to him
but Dexter doesn't
instead
as an adult he becomes a forensic specialist
for the local police force
specializing in blood spatter....
well that...
and he's a serial killer
he finds out about the "bad guys"
that for reasons usually technical
are not being punished for their crimes
and he brutally murders them
and disposes of their bodies
uhhhhhm?
is this the kinda shit we should be touting
as good tv?
it's well done
it's glib
it's smart
it's flashy
and in my opinion
it's wrong.
of the 3 year old tv series
"Dexter"
on CTV
we got to see the fist episode of season one
I've been hearing some of my US friends
speaking positively about this show
and how much they were looking forward to it
so I watched it
to see what's what
here's the premise:
a young boy is so badly abused that by the time he
reaches foster care he kills animals
on a regular basis
as he grows older he continues
only now his foster father the cop
knows what he's doing and suggests
that the next time
he gets the "urge"
he speak to him
but Dexter doesn't
instead
as an adult he becomes a forensic specialist
for the local police force
specializing in blood spatter....
well that...
and he's a serial killer
he finds out about the "bad guys"
that for reasons usually technical
are not being punished for their crimes
and he brutally murders them
and disposes of their bodies
uhhhhhm?
is this the kinda shit we should be touting
as good tv?
it's well done
it's glib
it's smart
it's flashy
and in my opinion
it's wrong.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
jumped the gun
apparently
in usual WyzWmn fashion
I jumped the gun
when I asked ya'll
to rate
my blog
the people at blog catalogue
(that's where the little button came from)
have my account still set at pending
(maybe they don't work weekends)
so
leave be
with the rating for now
and
thanks to those of you that emailed me
for the head's up
I'll post again when they
fix the friggin thing!
in usual WyzWmn fashion
I jumped the gun
when I asked ya'll
to rate
my blog
the people at blog catalogue
(that's where the little button came from)
have my account still set at pending
(maybe they don't work weekends)
so
leave be
with the rating for now
and
thanks to those of you that emailed me
for the head's up
I'll post again when they
fix the friggin thing!
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Chapter 47
the sound: Metallica – One, Metallica – Master of Puppets, Metallica – St Anger, Metallica – Nothing Else Matters, Metallica – Enter Sandman, Metallica - Fuel, Metallica – Disappear, Metallica – Sad but True, Metallica – The Unforgiven, Metallica – Until it Sleeps, Metallica – Fade to Black, Metallica – the Apocalyptica
I have always been amazed at how during periods of high stress or high drama my attention to detail increases to the minutiae and that I notice and remember the strangest things. And when I say remember, I also realize that when I notice those kind of things they seem to never go away…I just remember them always…good, bad or indifferent. Maybe it has something to do with having been raised by a cop.
While we were laying there on the floor I turned my head to the other side of the room to see Bennie. I noticed the tear in the knee of the jeans that Bennie was wearing and how those jeans were likely the one’s he’d worn when he’d repaired the broken toilet in the men’s room last month. I knew this because he’d complained vehemently about spilling bleach on them and had demanded that the hotel purchase him a new pair of jeans. How he spilled the bleach on himself while fixing the tank lever I’ll never know but I do remember Do-all refusing to fall for it.
I noticed that the balaclava that Bennie was wearing was black ribbed wool and that the trim around the eye and lip holes was done in a dirty yellow stringy wool...a lose stich. And I noticed that he was so excited and so high he had a white slobber film in the corner of his mouth, so much so that it was beginning to stain the balaclava white.
I noticed that the green hydro parka he was wearing had a large stain on the right lower pocket…like grease maybe…and that it was open to reveal the well worn faux sheepskin lining and I noticed just how dirty that was too. I noticed that his boots where brown leather and tie up in a sea of men wearing black pull on motorcycle boots. I even noticed that the stupid ass had not even taken the time out to change the clothes that he’d worn all evening in the bar.
And I noticed that rifle, black barrel, brown wooden stock, black trigger guard and Bennie’s twitchy finger in a pair of well worn dirty white deerskin gloves jerking back and forth towards the trigger as he waved that thing too and fro taking us all in.
I heard a scream and turned my head in time to see Frankie run screaming at Big Jack, one of our bouncers, and kick him in the face as he started to rise from the floor. Great big Jack’s head snapped back and his eyes rolled up in his head as his face started to bleed and he slumped to the floor.
I noticed Frankie showing all the signs of a man that was too high…his jaw working back and forth on it’s axis like it might snap off, his physical need to be on the very tip of his booted toes, his twitching and vibrating eyes rocking back and forth over us as he waved his gun at all of us and his voice….
I noticed that he was still wearing all the same clothes that he had been wearing in the bar too. I noticed that his ox blood colored leather car coat was probably not leather, but that old suede vest he was wearing likely was. I noticed that his pants were now tucked into his boots and that he now had hunting knives tucked into each one. I noticed that he was dead serious.
[note from Wyz...
do you like what you're reading?
or do you absolutely hate it?
rate my blog...
on the right...
white button at the bottom of the profile column right under the counter!
Please and Thanks!]
I have always been amazed at how during periods of high stress or high drama my attention to detail increases to the minutiae and that I notice and remember the strangest things. And when I say remember, I also realize that when I notice those kind of things they seem to never go away…I just remember them always…good, bad or indifferent. Maybe it has something to do with having been raised by a cop.
While we were laying there on the floor I turned my head to the other side of the room to see Bennie. I noticed the tear in the knee of the jeans that Bennie was wearing and how those jeans were likely the one’s he’d worn when he’d repaired the broken toilet in the men’s room last month. I knew this because he’d complained vehemently about spilling bleach on them and had demanded that the hotel purchase him a new pair of jeans. How he spilled the bleach on himself while fixing the tank lever I’ll never know but I do remember Do-all refusing to fall for it.
I noticed that the balaclava that Bennie was wearing was black ribbed wool and that the trim around the eye and lip holes was done in a dirty yellow stringy wool...a lose stich. And I noticed that he was so excited and so high he had a white slobber film in the corner of his mouth, so much so that it was beginning to stain the balaclava white.
I noticed that the green hydro parka he was wearing had a large stain on the right lower pocket…like grease maybe…and that it was open to reveal the well worn faux sheepskin lining and I noticed just how dirty that was too. I noticed that his boots where brown leather and tie up in a sea of men wearing black pull on motorcycle boots. I even noticed that the stupid ass had not even taken the time out to change the clothes that he’d worn all evening in the bar.
And I noticed that rifle, black barrel, brown wooden stock, black trigger guard and Bennie’s twitchy finger in a pair of well worn dirty white deerskin gloves jerking back and forth towards the trigger as he waved that thing too and fro taking us all in.
I heard a scream and turned my head in time to see Frankie run screaming at Big Jack, one of our bouncers, and kick him in the face as he started to rise from the floor. Great big Jack’s head snapped back and his eyes rolled up in his head as his face started to bleed and he slumped to the floor.
I noticed Frankie showing all the signs of a man that was too high…his jaw working back and forth on it’s axis like it might snap off, his physical need to be on the very tip of his booted toes, his twitching and vibrating eyes rocking back and forth over us as he waved his gun at all of us and his voice….
I noticed that he was still wearing all the same clothes that he had been wearing in the bar too. I noticed that his ox blood colored leather car coat was probably not leather, but that old suede vest he was wearing likely was. I noticed that his pants were now tucked into his boots and that he now had hunting knives tucked into each one. I noticed that he was dead serious.
[note from Wyz...
do you like what you're reading?
or do you absolutely hate it?
rate my blog...
on the right...
white button at the bottom of the profile column right under the counter!
Please and Thanks!]
Friday, February 15, 2008
Chapter 46
The sound: Big Brother & The Holding Company Feat. Janis Joplin – Piece of My Heart, Deep Purple – Lazy, Cream – Badge, Queen – All that I Want, The Eagles – Witchy Woman, Donovan – Hurdy Gurdy Man, Marianne Faithfull – Why’d Ya Do It?, Colin James – Why’d you Lie?
By 1 AM and the closure of the bar I was exhausted. So were the rest of the crew…but hard as we tried we couldn’t get all those drunks out of the bar in a timely fashion so it was close to 2 AM before we got everyone out.
At one point I remember looking up from behind the bar to see two of the bouncers dragging drunk Allie offa the door jamb where he was holding on for dear life in a last ditch attempt to get him some drink…just so they could close and lock the doors
Eventually we found ourselves alone with the doors locked and most of the lights off. I poured us all drinks and then we gathered at the first table below the mezzanine to put our tired, sore feet up for a bit prior to the Herculean task of cleaning that barn so we could all go home.
Me…I wanted me 2 beers, to cash out and to head off to spark a spliff and lay in a hot tub….I was pretty sure that the cashing out was gonna take me some time because we’d just had the best night ever in the bar. I didn’t think I’d seen that many twenty dollar bills in one till before in my life….there’d been so many of them that I’d had to pull wads of them out of the bill slot and hide them in both the 2nd and 3rd drawers over the course of the evening.
Just as I got comfortable in my chair with my feet up and began to raise my first ice cold beer to my lips there was a crash from behind me and two masked men armed with rifles roared into the room from the front lobby of the hotel, pushing the pregnant night clerk ahead of them.
Both of them started screaming at us to get on the floor while waving their guns around. One of them dashed down the 4 stairs from the mezzanine turning to face us and training his gun on us waving it back and forth at shoulder level to take us all in. The 2nd walked the length of the mezzanine with the pregnant clerk in tow and when he got to the second set of stairs down to the main floor he shoved her down to land on her belly.
Two things crossed my mind at once. The first being “you can’t do that she’s pregnant” and the second being…”it’s those fucking idiots Frankie and Bennie and this is the worst fucking joke I’ve seen in a while” so again, almost at once, I started to get outta my chair to give them a well deserved piece of my mind.
I had finally had enough of those two.
Two things happened at once, Penny, the waitress sitting beside me grabbed my sleeve as I started to rise and pulled me off my feet to land on top of her on the floor as Frankie (the moron who was on our level and training his gun on me) let go a round that went into the wall where I’d been sitting.
Had I stood, I’d have been gut shot, and had I remained sitting I’d have been hit in the throat. Either way it was a lose/lose for me…cos I knew he was using a large caliber hunting rifle...something big enough to make that kind of noise and that kind of hole in the wall was something one usually used to bring down moose.
By 1 AM and the closure of the bar I was exhausted. So were the rest of the crew…but hard as we tried we couldn’t get all those drunks out of the bar in a timely fashion so it was close to 2 AM before we got everyone out.
At one point I remember looking up from behind the bar to see two of the bouncers dragging drunk Allie offa the door jamb where he was holding on for dear life in a last ditch attempt to get him some drink…just so they could close and lock the doors
Eventually we found ourselves alone with the doors locked and most of the lights off. I poured us all drinks and then we gathered at the first table below the mezzanine to put our tired, sore feet up for a bit prior to the Herculean task of cleaning that barn so we could all go home.
Me…I wanted me 2 beers, to cash out and to head off to spark a spliff and lay in a hot tub….I was pretty sure that the cashing out was gonna take me some time because we’d just had the best night ever in the bar. I didn’t think I’d seen that many twenty dollar bills in one till before in my life….there’d been so many of them that I’d had to pull wads of them out of the bill slot and hide them in both the 2nd and 3rd drawers over the course of the evening.
Just as I got comfortable in my chair with my feet up and began to raise my first ice cold beer to my lips there was a crash from behind me and two masked men armed with rifles roared into the room from the front lobby of the hotel, pushing the pregnant night clerk ahead of them.
Both of them started screaming at us to get on the floor while waving their guns around. One of them dashed down the 4 stairs from the mezzanine turning to face us and training his gun on us waving it back and forth at shoulder level to take us all in. The 2nd walked the length of the mezzanine with the pregnant clerk in tow and when he got to the second set of stairs down to the main floor he shoved her down to land on her belly.
Two things crossed my mind at once. The first being “you can’t do that she’s pregnant” and the second being…”it’s those fucking idiots Frankie and Bennie and this is the worst fucking joke I’ve seen in a while” so again, almost at once, I started to get outta my chair to give them a well deserved piece of my mind.
I had finally had enough of those two.
Two things happened at once, Penny, the waitress sitting beside me grabbed my sleeve as I started to rise and pulled me off my feet to land on top of her on the floor as Frankie (the moron who was on our level and training his gun on me) let go a round that went into the wall where I’d been sitting.
Had I stood, I’d have been gut shot, and had I remained sitting I’d have been hit in the throat. Either way it was a lose/lose for me…cos I knew he was using a large caliber hunting rifle...something big enough to make that kind of noise and that kind of hole in the wall was something one usually used to bring down moose.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Chapter 45
the sound – Harlequin – Thinking of You, Rod Stewart – Do You Think I’m Sexy, Van Halen – Feel Your Love Tonight, Nick Gilder – Hot Child in the City, The Doors – Love Me Two Times, MeatLoaf – Paradise by the Dashboard Light, Lynyrd Skynard – Sweet Home Alabama, Dire Straits – Brothers in Arms
The plan unfolded on a phenomenally busy Saturday night in the bar.
We’d been rocking and rolling all night long and by the end of the shift the 13 members of the wait staff, the 8 bouncers & doormen, both other bartenders and myself had worked and sweated together in the summer heat in that non air conditioned bar to a really large crowd of very serious partiers – we were burnt toast tired, but the kind of good tired that comes from working hard and laughing our asses off.
We’d served more booze in one shift than we had collectively for several nights and I chalked that up to the fact that the band was currently ‘hot’ across the country. Harlequin had played with us on an average of once a month for a year, but now that their record had hit they were attracting the looky loo’s as well as the groupies and the rockers. And with the looky loo’s, groupies and rockers came booze sales plain and simple.
Frankie and Bennie had spent the night holding court in the bar. They sat at a large table just below the mezzanine and they treated the wait staff like their own personal slaves.
Everyone hated it when they ended up in their section because they wouldn’t tip anyone if it were to save their souls. But those two hoods, by the very breath of their existence expected, even demanded to be treated like landed gentry and were always throwing their weight around, showing off like. In the end most of the girls put up with it because the rest of the bar could be a big tip place to work and big tip jobs were hard come by and pissing off one of those thugs could chase you right out the door…cos sure as god made little green apples those two tough guys would run to their daddy Do-all and that would be the end of that.
Around midnight I turned around from the beer coolers back to face the bar with my hands full of bottles of stubby beers to find Frankie standing between me and the bar itself. I tried to step around him but he kept in my way. He was acting funny and had one hand behind his back.
What do you want Frankie? I asked just barely disguising my distrust.
He brought his hand out from behind his back with not one, but one dozen roses and offered them to me. My first thought was that they musta cost a mint cos those ‘Rose Ladies’ that traveled from bar to bar selling roses and teddy bears to drunks charged huge amounts for their wares…my second thought was that Frankie was definitely up to something.
What do you want Frankie? I asked again, this time my disgust dripping from my voice.
“I just want to give the pretty Baby some flowers” Frankie simpered as he leaned towards me and shoved the roses into my beer filled hands forcing me to catch them with my arms. “and to say…..a friend is a friend and family is family….right Baby?”
“uhhhhm
ya….
Whatever!” was my reply as I stepped around him to drop all the beer and roses on the bar.
“well good then” he said from behind me as I bent towards snapping the lids off of the 8 beers the waitress in front of me had been waiting for. “that’s it then.” He said as he wiped his hands down the front of his suede vest and walked away.
I scooped up the roses and threw them in a draught jug and smacked them between the bottles on the lower shelf of the bar. “That prick is up to something I just know it” ran thru my head before the next waitress in line started to bawl out her order and I immediately moved on to the matter at hand….making money.
The plan unfolded on a phenomenally busy Saturday night in the bar.
We’d been rocking and rolling all night long and by the end of the shift the 13 members of the wait staff, the 8 bouncers & doormen, both other bartenders and myself had worked and sweated together in the summer heat in that non air conditioned bar to a really large crowd of very serious partiers – we were burnt toast tired, but the kind of good tired that comes from working hard and laughing our asses off.
We’d served more booze in one shift than we had collectively for several nights and I chalked that up to the fact that the band was currently ‘hot’ across the country. Harlequin had played with us on an average of once a month for a year, but now that their record had hit they were attracting the looky loo’s as well as the groupies and the rockers. And with the looky loo’s, groupies and rockers came booze sales plain and simple.
Frankie and Bennie had spent the night holding court in the bar. They sat at a large table just below the mezzanine and they treated the wait staff like their own personal slaves.
Everyone hated it when they ended up in their section because they wouldn’t tip anyone if it were to save their souls. But those two hoods, by the very breath of their existence expected, even demanded to be treated like landed gentry and were always throwing their weight around, showing off like. In the end most of the girls put up with it because the rest of the bar could be a big tip place to work and big tip jobs were hard come by and pissing off one of those thugs could chase you right out the door…cos sure as god made little green apples those two tough guys would run to their daddy Do-all and that would be the end of that.
Around midnight I turned around from the beer coolers back to face the bar with my hands full of bottles of stubby beers to find Frankie standing between me and the bar itself. I tried to step around him but he kept in my way. He was acting funny and had one hand behind his back.
What do you want Frankie? I asked just barely disguising my distrust.
He brought his hand out from behind his back with not one, but one dozen roses and offered them to me. My first thought was that they musta cost a mint cos those ‘Rose Ladies’ that traveled from bar to bar selling roses and teddy bears to drunks charged huge amounts for their wares…my second thought was that Frankie was definitely up to something.
What do you want Frankie? I asked again, this time my disgust dripping from my voice.
“I just want to give the pretty Baby some flowers” Frankie simpered as he leaned towards me and shoved the roses into my beer filled hands forcing me to catch them with my arms. “and to say…..a friend is a friend and family is family….right Baby?”
“uhhhhm
ya….
Whatever!” was my reply as I stepped around him to drop all the beer and roses on the bar.
“well good then” he said from behind me as I bent towards snapping the lids off of the 8 beers the waitress in front of me had been waiting for. “that’s it then.” He said as he wiped his hands down the front of his suede vest and walked away.
I scooped up the roses and threw them in a draught jug and smacked them between the bottles on the lower shelf of the bar. “That prick is up to something I just know it” ran thru my head before the next waitress in line started to bawl out her order and I immediately moved on to the matter at hand….making money.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Chapter 44
the sound: Bob Seger – Turn the Page
I slide down the tree and hang my head waiting for the worst to pass while listening to the music pouring out of the garage/barn.
The wail of Bob Seger’s Turn the Page always takes me back to a time in the bar prior to my owning it. Before my grandfather died he’d been sick for a long while, so he had a guy managing the place.
The guy’s name was Davie (something Greek I never could pronounce) and his nickname was ‘Do-all’ because he’d ‘do all’ as in anything for money.
Do-All’d been married a couple of times in his youth and the result of those marriages where a pair of hard core idiot thugs named Frankie and Bennie.
Do-all treated the fruit of his loins as you’d expect one to treat royalty all their lives and it went directly to their heads. Neither of the pair were big on grey matter, but what they were lacking in brain power they more than made up for in brawn.
One of the largest problems that the bar had in those days was the ‘stupider’ and ‘stupidest’ show those two put on. I’d never been able to get over the way those two acted like landed gentry and they demanded that all of the staff treat them with the ‘respect’ they were so positive that they deserved.
A perceived lack of respect always resulted in them beating up a customer for the price of a beer. Or for that matter, beating up anyone for anything either one of those mental midgets thought could be construed as a slight against them, their family or the fact that the sky was blue. Those two lug heads loved to fist fight and simply put….it was one of the very few things that they did really well.
Both were in their late 30’s, both were serious weight lifters (having picked up the habit in jail) and looked ripped, both had various degrees of receding hairlines. The greatest difference in their looks was the fact that Frankie had all his teeth and Bennie had a couple left. (Frankie having purchased his after a particularly despicable fight in the bar involving a woman he’d decided he wanted, her husband, and the tire iron her husband brought into the fray.)
The whole thing was a mess. I’d known that they were dealing drugs out of the bar, and running a bootleg operation after hours but while my grandfather was alive I could never broach the subject with him because I was underage and not supposed to be in the bar at all.
So the price Do-all charged me for my silence was his own silence. He just sort of forgot to tell my family that I’d been working in the bar since I was 16. He’d even been the guy that got me the false ID so I could look legal on the books.
I worked the bar and over time went from working the floor full time, to bartending and over more time made myself virtually invaluable by mastering the liquor control system, and the bookkeeping which almost single handedly kept the business afloat. Then when I proved to Do-all that both his bartenders were skimming from him I got the job running the back end.
Not that it made a big difference….the hotel was in financial difficulty and no amount of stopping the skimming in the bar would save it. The antics of his boys, coupled with his penchant for after hours partying at the bar’s expense left little or nothing in the coffers.
As a result Do-all came up with a plan…a plan he somehow ‘forgot’ to mention to me before he put it into action.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Best Quote from 2008 Grammy's
Best Opening Line of an Acceptance Speech Award: "I just got an award given to me by a Beatle. Have you had that happen yet, Kanye?" -- Vince Gill, who had his best country album award handed to him by Ringo Star.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Chapter 43
the sound: Bob Seger – Ramblin Gamblin Man, Bob Seger – Lucifer, Bob Seger – Travelling Man & Beautiful Loser, Bob Seger – Night Moves, Bob Seger – Old Time Rock n Roll, Bob Seger – Wait for Me, Bob Seger Against the Wind, Bob Seger – We’ve Got Tonight, Bob Seger – Turn the Page
I stood watching the ladies “cap” for a while, waiting for my toast. Eventually the process got boring to watch and I glanced up at the kitchen window. I wasn’t surprised to see it covered…but I was surprised to see that the cover was actually gun metal grey shutters made of actual metal that looked suspiciously ‘armed forces’ish.
When the toast popped I turned to the counter as Rosie walked into the room.
“hey little girl…bout time you got outta bed….how’s the head”
“just ducky” I muttered “what time o day are we?”
“bout 9PM” came the reply…I’d slept through the remainder of the day and well into the evening.
“well then…my clock’s buggered” I muttered
Rosie smirked and suggested I meet her by the fire when I’d finished my coffee. I stood there and watched her as all expression seemed to leach from her face and then she left the room. I was left wondering how she could be part of such a great ‘family’ and completely ignored the women sitting at the table?
I glanced over as I ate my toast to find the women that had formerly been so relaxed and happy to seem completely closed and very studious as they continued to cap at a rate I’d not seen previously.
“curiouser and curiouser” I thought.
I finished my toast and coffee and headed to the door. On the way I discovered my jean jacket over the back of one of the couches so I stopped and grabbed at it looking for my smokes and lighter. I lit up as I stepped out the door to find that there was another huge bonfire and it seemed that there were twice as many people there as there’d been the night before.
As I approached the fire I saw what looked to be a rack on top of the fire and I could smell the unmistakable aroma of meat cooking. My stomach roiled.
Upon closer examination I realized that the rack was indeed an old double bed spring and that there was a rather large amount of meat or carcasses on the rack…actually what looked like dog carcasses.
I swung away from the fire my gorge rising up into my mouth and met face to face with a man I’d never seen before.
“Hi, you must be baby” he said just as I started to puke and he laughed and danced out of my way. “never been to a goat roast before?”
“goat? goat?” I thought, thoroughly embarrassed at the mess I’d made. “why the hell would anyone roast a fucking goat?” I asked as I kicked dirt over the mess my breakfast had made on the ground and wiped my mouth
“well ya know that ragtop Cadillac that Robert had just finished having restored?” he grinned. “the one we put the new cloth on yesterday?”
I nodded vaguely remembering.
“Well Robert got up this morning to discover that several of Rosie’s pigmies had walked across while everyone was away a couple of the larger one’s fell through completely destroying the new ragtop”…he chuckled “so out came the chainsaw and it’s goat for supper….I’m Jamesie” he finished.
“hi, I think….chainsaw?....oh gawd....I think I’m gonna be sick again”
Jamesie laughed and said “ya can’t piss like a puppy if yer gonna run with the hounds little girl”
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I asked as I staggered to the big tree to lean on while I decided if the rest of my breakfast was gonna stay down.
Jamesie just smiled and shook his head, then turned and walked away towards the fire, the strains of Bob Seger wailing in the background.
I stood watching the ladies “cap” for a while, waiting for my toast. Eventually the process got boring to watch and I glanced up at the kitchen window. I wasn’t surprised to see it covered…but I was surprised to see that the cover was actually gun metal grey shutters made of actual metal that looked suspiciously ‘armed forces’ish.
When the toast popped I turned to the counter as Rosie walked into the room.
“hey little girl…bout time you got outta bed….how’s the head”
“just ducky” I muttered “what time o day are we?”
“bout 9PM” came the reply…I’d slept through the remainder of the day and well into the evening.
“well then…my clock’s buggered” I muttered
Rosie smirked and suggested I meet her by the fire when I’d finished my coffee. I stood there and watched her as all expression seemed to leach from her face and then she left the room. I was left wondering how she could be part of such a great ‘family’ and completely ignored the women sitting at the table?
I glanced over as I ate my toast to find the women that had formerly been so relaxed and happy to seem completely closed and very studious as they continued to cap at a rate I’d not seen previously.
“curiouser and curiouser” I thought.
I finished my toast and coffee and headed to the door. On the way I discovered my jean jacket over the back of one of the couches so I stopped and grabbed at it looking for my smokes and lighter. I lit up as I stepped out the door to find that there was another huge bonfire and it seemed that there were twice as many people there as there’d been the night before.
As I approached the fire I saw what looked to be a rack on top of the fire and I could smell the unmistakable aroma of meat cooking. My stomach roiled.
Upon closer examination I realized that the rack was indeed an old double bed spring and that there was a rather large amount of meat or carcasses on the rack…actually what looked like dog carcasses.
I swung away from the fire my gorge rising up into my mouth and met face to face with a man I’d never seen before.
“Hi, you must be baby” he said just as I started to puke and he laughed and danced out of my way. “never been to a goat roast before?”
“goat? goat?” I thought, thoroughly embarrassed at the mess I’d made. “why the hell would anyone roast a fucking goat?” I asked as I kicked dirt over the mess my breakfast had made on the ground and wiped my mouth
“well ya know that ragtop Cadillac that Robert had just finished having restored?” he grinned. “the one we put the new cloth on yesterday?”
I nodded vaguely remembering.
“Well Robert got up this morning to discover that several of Rosie’s pigmies had walked across while everyone was away a couple of the larger one’s fell through completely destroying the new ragtop”…he chuckled “so out came the chainsaw and it’s goat for supper….I’m Jamesie” he finished.
“hi, I think….chainsaw?....oh gawd....I think I’m gonna be sick again”
Jamesie laughed and said “ya can’t piss like a puppy if yer gonna run with the hounds little girl”
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I asked as I staggered to the big tree to lean on while I decided if the rest of my breakfast was gonna stay down.
Jamesie just smiled and shook his head, then turned and walked away towards the fire, the strains of Bob Seger wailing in the background.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Friday, February 08, 2008
an issue of accountability...?
A couple of years er so ago a young man that was working as a gas jockey in British Columbia was dragged to his death when he chose to chase after a thief that was exiting the gas station he worked at without paying for a little over $12.00 worth of gas...a "gas n dash." A horrible incident, but really....why would anyone chase after a vehicle for $12.00? Especially as it's against the law in this country to take till shortages from one's paycheck?
Wouldn't you think that he should have written down the license number and make and model of the vehicle and called the police instead? Might have saved his life....
As a result of lobbying by his parents, the province of BC has passed a provincial law (Grant's Law) that states that all customers purchasing gas or petrol products in the province must pre-pay or they can not have the product....it went into effect Feb 1.
sounds simple enough?
Tonight I stopped at my local Co-op gas station to get gas….
In order to purchase gas with your debit card you must hand your debit card to a gas station employee who puts it in his wallet. If he is pumping the gas for you - you have to go inside while you wait for him to finish...but he's got your card. So anything you want to purchase as well as the gas has to wait....
After waiting for 10 er so minutes for the seemingly 7 year old kid to pump the gas, he comes back in and wanders into the back room...so I wait a minute er two more and the kid comes out from the back wearing his street clothes with his ball cap on and his back pack on carrying his skate board....
"uhhhhhm hello?"
he says "ya?"
"can I have my debit card?"
"holy crap! I forgot" he says.....
so we go over to the cash and he hands my card to a seemingly 9 year old wearing an assistant manager nametag and proceeds to tell him all about how much gas, which pump, how he almost headed home with my card...etc
I figure he's accountable...he's admitted to his mistake so he's offa the hook...
I look at the 9 yr old and I says to him..."betcha this is a pain in the ass"
he replies.."you have noooooo idea"
I said..."so all the newspapers are talking about how much the gas stations and patrons love it"
he says..."they'll be talking outta the other side of their mouths once everyone buys fast pay pumps and stops going to their station"
"Oh" says I, "will you guys be getting fast pay?"
to which he replies...."well ya...but it will take longer and cost way more than the already thru the roof cost cos we have to have special pumps so our co-operative members can enter their membership numbers...."
“how much is way more?” I ask
“500K to do all our pumps” he says “and now we have to have 2 people on all the time too so wages are gonna cost the company more”
in the end it took me a full 25 minutes to get my gas, pay for it and get back to my car....
I get the the parents of the young man that was killed in 2005 are devastated by his loss. But I can't help but wonder why I am being inconvenienced because they didn't teach that young man that his life was worth more than $12.00.
Wouldn't you think that he should have written down the license number and make and model of the vehicle and called the police instead? Might have saved his life....
As a result of lobbying by his parents, the province of BC has passed a provincial law (Grant's Law) that states that all customers purchasing gas or petrol products in the province must pre-pay or they can not have the product....it went into effect Feb 1.
sounds simple enough?
Tonight I stopped at my local Co-op gas station to get gas….
In order to purchase gas with your debit card you must hand your debit card to a gas station employee who puts it in his wallet. If he is pumping the gas for you - you have to go inside while you wait for him to finish...but he's got your card. So anything you want to purchase as well as the gas has to wait....
After waiting for 10 er so minutes for the seemingly 7 year old kid to pump the gas, he comes back in and wanders into the back room...so I wait a minute er two more and the kid comes out from the back wearing his street clothes with his ball cap on and his back pack on carrying his skate board....
"uhhhhhm hello?"
he says "ya?"
"can I have my debit card?"
"holy crap! I forgot" he says.....
so we go over to the cash and he hands my card to a seemingly 9 year old wearing an assistant manager nametag and proceeds to tell him all about how much gas, which pump, how he almost headed home with my card...etc
I figure he's accountable...he's admitted to his mistake so he's offa the hook...
I look at the 9 yr old and I says to him..."betcha this is a pain in the ass"
he replies.."you have noooooo idea"
I said..."so all the newspapers are talking about how much the gas stations and patrons love it"
he says..."they'll be talking outta the other side of their mouths once everyone buys fast pay pumps and stops going to their station"
"Oh" says I, "will you guys be getting fast pay?"
to which he replies...."well ya...but it will take longer and cost way more than the already thru the roof cost cos we have to have special pumps so our co-operative members can enter their membership numbers...."
“how much is way more?” I ask
“500K to do all our pumps” he says “and now we have to have 2 people on all the time too so wages are gonna cost the company more”
in the end it took me a full 25 minutes to get my gas, pay for it and get back to my car....
I get the the parents of the young man that was killed in 2005 are devastated by his loss. But I can't help but wonder why I am being inconvenienced because they didn't teach that young man that his life was worth more than $12.00.
For those that have inquired....
just so ya know...
after I finished licking my wounds
on the weekend....
I got up a full head o steam
(sic...pissed right off)
and went to Employee Relations on Wed
and laid it all out
and wrapped it up in a bow for them
I told em that I'd taken
my whole wee pail
of conflict resolution skills
and tossed em right in her face...
(Likely to no avail...)
but hey...a girls gotta try...
she got called over there yesterday afternoon..
and she came back
and strongly suggested that I take
all my lieu time off in March
to attend a course
at one o them "touchy feely' places
she frequents with all the other old hippies....
but I said no
cos my blister
will be here in March
and if I'm home
for the whole time she's here....
one of us may die
*ahem*
She is off today...
but ER confirmed to me
that there is an "no retribution" policy here...
so if she says a word to me about it
I go back to ER and her goose is cooked.
we'll see what happens from here....
after I finished licking my wounds
on the weekend....
I got up a full head o steam
(sic...pissed right off)
and went to Employee Relations on Wed
and laid it all out
and wrapped it up in a bow for them
I told em that I'd taken
my whole wee pail
of conflict resolution skills
and tossed em right in her face...
(Likely to no avail...)
but hey...a girls gotta try...
she got called over there yesterday afternoon..
and she came back
and strongly suggested that I take
all my lieu time off in March
to attend a course
at one o them "touchy feely' places
she frequents with all the other old hippies....
but I said no
cos my blister
will be here in March
and if I'm home
for the whole time she's here....
one of us may die
*ahem*
She is off today...
but ER confirmed to me
that there is an "no retribution" policy here...
so if she says a word to me about it
I go back to ER and her goose is cooked.
we'll see what happens from here....
Thursday, February 07, 2008
News Flash!
the "Pickle"
will be
coming home
on Saturday
it'll even
be worth
riding in the rain
in February
I'm
stoked!
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Chapter 42
the sound: Van Halen – Ice Cream Man, Van Halen – Pretty Woman, Van Halen – You Really Got Me, Van Halen – Why Can’t This Be Love, Van Halen – Dreams, Van Halen – Can’t Stop Lovin You, Van Halen – Jump, Van Halen – Hot For Teacher, Van Halen – Running with the Devil
I awaken some time later and as my bladder is ever the boss, get out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. I relieve myself and then stick my head in the sink to suck a gallon or two of water up.
I stand up and look at myself in the mirror and decide that the only way to look and feel better is a shower. I realize yet again that someone has undressed me as I climb into the largest shower compartment I have ever seen. The shower proved to be such a lovely decision that I am hard pressed to not just stay there. The pounding water relaxes me and the heat makes me feel safe and cozy.
The idea of developing a close personal relationship with one of the showerheads crosses my mind just before my eyes snap open in horror at the thought of someone walking in. I finish the shower, and spend some time combing and braiding my hair before leaving the bathroom, all the while in serious conversation with myself about paying attention and minding my own business till I can get outta here.
As I returned to the bedroom I discover my clothes on the floor and quickly dress as my stomach starts to growl. I know, oh so well, that at this stage of the hangover process the only thing for me was to eat toast and drink barrels of coffee.
I pull open the door of the bedroom and tiptoe down the hallway towards the living room. No one is there. As I enter the living room I recognize the intense smell of coffee so instead of heading towards the front door I veer towards the other end of the house and what I hoped was the kitchen.
As I cross the huge living room I begin to hear voices and as I entere the room my eyes take in 6 or 7 women sitting at the table. On the table is a large clear tub the size of a fish cooler and in front of each woman there was a pile of empty capsules. The bin seems to contain an exceptionally large amount of white floury like powder.
Almost as one they stop talking and turned to look at me and I try to pull my eyebrows down and look less surprised…
“oh, uhm hi!” I said…”is there coffee?”
The dark hair woman at the end of the table facing me nods towards the pot on the counter to her left and then goes back to scooping powder out of the metal scoop in front of her into a capsule and sealing it, then dropping it into a pail beside her on the floor.
Almost as one all of the women start working again and the buzz of their renewed conversation and laughter surrounded me. I find a cup and pour myself a coffee and then turn to look at the fridge. “Cream’s in the door, sugar’s to the right of the stove.” some said over their shoulder not even bothering to look at me.
“thanks” I mumble as I glance furtively at what they were doing before I open the fridge to get the cream and spotted a loaf of bread. “Is there a toaster?” and someone nods at the cupboard beside the fridge.
I pull out the toaster, plugg it in and drop in the bread, pushing down the lever. I turn to watch the women at work.
The dark haired lady at the head of the table said “ever seen this done?” over her shoulder to me.
I nodded and then remembered that she likely couldn’t see me. “Mesc, and MDA” I replied as I leaned against the cupboard sipping coffee. “how come yer not wearing gloves?”
“Do this long enough and you don’t need to…yer just fucked up full time” the young blonde woman to her left giggled.
The dark haired woman shot her a look and advised me that it was a safety measure…as long as they were ‘capping’ they’d be high enough to not take off.
“Safety for whom” I wondered.
I awaken some time later and as my bladder is ever the boss, get out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. I relieve myself and then stick my head in the sink to suck a gallon or two of water up.
I stand up and look at myself in the mirror and decide that the only way to look and feel better is a shower. I realize yet again that someone has undressed me as I climb into the largest shower compartment I have ever seen. The shower proved to be such a lovely decision that I am hard pressed to not just stay there. The pounding water relaxes me and the heat makes me feel safe and cozy.
The idea of developing a close personal relationship with one of the showerheads crosses my mind just before my eyes snap open in horror at the thought of someone walking in. I finish the shower, and spend some time combing and braiding my hair before leaving the bathroom, all the while in serious conversation with myself about paying attention and minding my own business till I can get outta here.
As I returned to the bedroom I discover my clothes on the floor and quickly dress as my stomach starts to growl. I know, oh so well, that at this stage of the hangover process the only thing for me was to eat toast and drink barrels of coffee.
I pull open the door of the bedroom and tiptoe down the hallway towards the living room. No one is there. As I enter the living room I recognize the intense smell of coffee so instead of heading towards the front door I veer towards the other end of the house and what I hoped was the kitchen.
As I cross the huge living room I begin to hear voices and as I entere the room my eyes take in 6 or 7 women sitting at the table. On the table is a large clear tub the size of a fish cooler and in front of each woman there was a pile of empty capsules. The bin seems to contain an exceptionally large amount of white floury like powder.
Almost as one they stop talking and turned to look at me and I try to pull my eyebrows down and look less surprised…
“oh, uhm hi!” I said…”is there coffee?”
The dark hair woman at the end of the table facing me nods towards the pot on the counter to her left and then goes back to scooping powder out of the metal scoop in front of her into a capsule and sealing it, then dropping it into a pail beside her on the floor.
Almost as one all of the women start working again and the buzz of their renewed conversation and laughter surrounded me. I find a cup and pour myself a coffee and then turn to look at the fridge. “Cream’s in the door, sugar’s to the right of the stove.” some said over their shoulder not even bothering to look at me.
“thanks” I mumble as I glance furtively at what they were doing before I open the fridge to get the cream and spotted a loaf of bread. “Is there a toaster?” and someone nods at the cupboard beside the fridge.
I pull out the toaster, plugg it in and drop in the bread, pushing down the lever. I turn to watch the women at work.
The dark haired lady at the head of the table said “ever seen this done?” over her shoulder to me.
I nodded and then remembered that she likely couldn’t see me. “Mesc, and MDA” I replied as I leaned against the cupboard sipping coffee. “how come yer not wearing gloves?”
“Do this long enough and you don’t need to…yer just fucked up full time” the young blonde woman to her left giggled.
The dark haired woman shot her a look and advised me that it was a safety measure…as long as they were ‘capping’ they’d be high enough to not take off.
“Safety for whom” I wondered.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Chapter 41
the sound: Alice Cooper – Ballad of Dwight Fly, Alice Cooper – Desperado, Alice Cooper – Dirty Diamonds, Alice Cooper – Freedom, Alice Cooper – Lace and Whiskey, Alice Cooper – I Never Cry, Alice Cooper – Only Women Bleed, Alice Cooper – Welcome to My Nightmare, Alice Cooper – Dead Babies
Sometime during the day we returned to the house. I barely remembered being poured into the back seat of the mustang and Boomer laughing to Robert about how if he was lucky I wouldn’t puke all over the back of him on the way home.
I lay very still trying to suss out exactly where I was. The room was virtually devoid of sound but was spinning like mad. I barely cracked one eye open and realized I was in the big bed at the farm house again. I slid my hand over my hip and realized someone had undressed me.
My eyes snapped open and my head rocked from side to side. I realized 2 things immediately…one that I was alone, and two that I was going to throw up. I made it to the commode and when I was done I welcomed the cool of the floor against my bottom as I wept my fear out.
In time, as I started to calm down and cool off and rose to wash my face. I looked myself over in the mirror and was appalled at what I saw. I wasn’t looking my usual ‘perky’ self…and I felt worse than the bottom of a bird cage.
I stumbled back into the bedroom and climbed back up onto the bed discovering the nightgown in the process and pulling it over my head. I climbed under the covers as the sniffles began again and I chided myself to remember that I was an adult now and that I really should have paid attention.
I lay there for a while as bits and pieces of the night before began to come to me. I have a vision of myself standing on the bar dancing and laughing my arm around Rosie and her laughing too…both of us hanging on to the neck of a bottle of tequila.
I remembered standing at a pool table while BarnYard was trying to take a shot, but that he was pissed as a rat so every time he took a shot I hollered “fore” and we all ducked!
I remember playing pinball and having a riot until some unknown assailant walked up behind me and damn near picked me up offa the floor by the right check of my ass, asking me if I’d like to “ride him?”
And I remember swinging around and pushing him away and hollering at him with my finger stuck under his nose about showing respect to women…and then the pride I felt when the guy got kinda google eyed and turned and slunk away.
I remembered in my drunken stupor feeling like I was on top of the world cos I’d shown him and he’d listened. Yup on top of the world right till I turned around and spotted the virtual bank of over 6 ft tall flesh standing behind me with their arms crossed and their club colors on.
I groaned. Surely it can’t be any worse than that?
I remembered feeling suddenly and utterly sober when LittleMan, WonderWoman, Robert and I were sitting at a table and LittleMan said to me…”I hear it’s your birthday” as he pulled his handgun out of his shoulder holster.
My eyes grew big as he reverently placed the gun on the table before me and in a calm voice almost devoid of humanity, said to me…”ya pick anyone of dese muthafuckas in dis place and I’ll do'im for ya fer yer birthday present”
And I remembered having to fight myself to keep from looking at Robert who was keeping me here or Boomer who’d got me into this mess in the first place at that particular moment.
“oh my god” I groan as it occurs to me that not only do I feel like I may die, but I probably could have if I’d said the wrong thing at the wrong time!
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Chapter 40
the sound: Fleetwood Mac – Rhiannon, , Fleetwood Mac – Everywhere, Fleetwood Mac – The Chain, Fleetwood Mac – Songbird, Fleetwood Mac – Landslide, Fleetwood Mac – Tusk, Fleetwood Mac - Storms, Fleetwood Mac – Dreams
I sat back in my chair and raised the beer to my mouth. Taking a large gulp as it occurred to me that quite possibly there was more to the story than I could see.
“So how did you all become family?” I ask, taking several more large gulps of beer.
Rosie leans forward and lights a smoke, her eyes grow steely. “I was put out to flatback by my father once I reached puberty.” She replied. “I was so young I didn’t even know it was wrong” she continued. “I really truly thought that all women’s work included lying down for strangers for money and I couldn’t figure out why some people had to go to school while I got to sleep all day.”
She turned to look at me and I realized that my mouth was hanging open when her face flared in anger
“You don’t get to judge me…I’m just telling you the way it was!” she barked.
“sor…sorry….I didn’t mean to offend you…I guess I’m just reacting cos I thought I had it bad” I replied
“oh ya Baby, yer life musta been soooo very hard living in a house with yer brother and sister and both parents…poor little girl cos her daddy’s a cop!” Rose sing songed.
“how’d you know that?” I startled.
“oh…from Robert he knows all that he needs to know and more!”
I turned to look at WonderWoman who was turned away from me and looking out over the floor below us. I realized she was watching the rest of ‘us’ down on the lower level and Boomer coming up the stairs towards us. “You don’t get to know my past little girl…do you have any idea what we’ve been through to get here?”
“hush now” Rosie turned to face her…”she doesn’t know and won’t till Robert wants her to!”
“know what?” I asked
“why yer here” WonderWoman replies…”now shut up, here comes Boomer.”
I looked up as Boomer walked across the floor towards us…”hey Baby girl…come play some pinball with me…let me whoop yer ass at PacMan!”
Grateful for the distraction, even if it involved getting close to Boomer and his fetid breath, I got up and followed him around the walk way of doors towards the particular pinball game he was looking for.
“Boomer?” I asked
“Hmmm?” was the reply as he turned and looked back at me
“what the fuck have you got me into? Who are these people? And what’s with all the doors? Where do they lead?”
“I don’t know why you think there’s something up Baby…this is yer birthday present girl…just enjoy it” he laughed as he turned back towards his destination.
“oh” I snarked “so you don’t think it’s odd that I’m being held virtually captive by a gang of misfits and thugs and that nobody, not one fucking person, not even you who is supposed to be my god damn friend will tell me what’s going on?”
“Baby..you ask too many questions” Boomer replied as we reached the 2nd floor bar, “you need to get back to goin with the flow” He stopped and ordered 4 shots of tequila, 2 with lime and 2 poppers. “One each” he said, as he nodded towards the drinks on the bar” “it’s Happy birthday to you and outta a jam for me.”
“what’s that supposed to mean? I asked again as I reached for the shots.
“due time, due time Baby…..just drink up” came the reply yet again.
“In for a penny, in for a pound” I thought as I flipped back the popper followed closely by the shot and then the lime…”if I’m gonna be in the dark…I may just as well have some fun there!”
I sat back in my chair and raised the beer to my mouth. Taking a large gulp as it occurred to me that quite possibly there was more to the story than I could see.
“So how did you all become family?” I ask, taking several more large gulps of beer.
Rosie leans forward and lights a smoke, her eyes grow steely. “I was put out to flatback by my father once I reached puberty.” She replied. “I was so young I didn’t even know it was wrong” she continued. “I really truly thought that all women’s work included lying down for strangers for money and I couldn’t figure out why some people had to go to school while I got to sleep all day.”
She turned to look at me and I realized that my mouth was hanging open when her face flared in anger
“You don’t get to judge me…I’m just telling you the way it was!” she barked.
“sor…sorry….I didn’t mean to offend you…I guess I’m just reacting cos I thought I had it bad” I replied
“oh ya Baby, yer life musta been soooo very hard living in a house with yer brother and sister and both parents…poor little girl cos her daddy’s a cop!” Rose sing songed.
“how’d you know that?” I startled.
“oh…from Robert he knows all that he needs to know and more!”
I turned to look at WonderWoman who was turned away from me and looking out over the floor below us. I realized she was watching the rest of ‘us’ down on the lower level and Boomer coming up the stairs towards us. “You don’t get to know my past little girl…do you have any idea what we’ve been through to get here?”
“hush now” Rosie turned to face her…”she doesn’t know and won’t till Robert wants her to!”
“know what?” I asked
“why yer here” WonderWoman replies…”now shut up, here comes Boomer.”
I looked up as Boomer walked across the floor towards us…”hey Baby girl…come play some pinball with me…let me whoop yer ass at PacMan!”
Grateful for the distraction, even if it involved getting close to Boomer and his fetid breath, I got up and followed him around the walk way of doors towards the particular pinball game he was looking for.
“Boomer?” I asked
“Hmmm?” was the reply as he turned and looked back at me
“what the fuck have you got me into? Who are these people? And what’s with all the doors? Where do they lead?”
“I don’t know why you think there’s something up Baby…this is yer birthday present girl…just enjoy it” he laughed as he turned back towards his destination.
“oh” I snarked “so you don’t think it’s odd that I’m being held virtually captive by a gang of misfits and thugs and that nobody, not one fucking person, not even you who is supposed to be my god damn friend will tell me what’s going on?”
“Baby..you ask too many questions” Boomer replied as we reached the 2nd floor bar, “you need to get back to goin with the flow” He stopped and ordered 4 shots of tequila, 2 with lime and 2 poppers. “One each” he said, as he nodded towards the drinks on the bar” “it’s Happy birthday to you and outta a jam for me.”
“what’s that supposed to mean? I asked again as I reached for the shots.
“due time, due time Baby…..just drink up” came the reply yet again.
“In for a penny, in for a pound” I thought as I flipped back the popper followed closely by the shot and then the lime…”if I’m gonna be in the dark…I may just as well have some fun there!”
I think I got it....
I think I may have figured it out
I think the reason
that the job is "hurting" me so much
is cos of the constant negativity
cos it's exactly the same shit
as I have to live with
day in day out
in caregiving for the VOD
case in point....
last night I asked
"what do we have to do tomorrow?"
she says
"go pay for the car insurance"
I says
"but we're ok till the end of Feb"
she says
"actually it expired at the end of Dec"
I says
"but we talked about this last week
and you told me that you'd checked and it was good
till Feb 29"
she says
"no I didn't"
I've only been saying for a year
that I want her to give me the damn bill
when it comes in
cos I'm the one driving the damn thing....
but no
so I've been an unisured driver
since Jan 1
gak!
so we go
but as we leave I tell her we need gas
"well can't you get it later" she says
"I don't think so" says I
she says "the gas indicator reads 1/4 tank"
I says "Ma...I keep tellin you it's been broken for a year"
she says "well I don't want you driving all over creation
without insurance"
"it's on the way" I says as I'm thinkin
"why is today different than yesterday?"
she goes into hyper drive
about me not listening
to her needs
and I pass by the gas station on the way
to the insurance place
where she decides I can't come in
she wants to do it on her own
she comes back to the car
some 20 min later
and says
"I lied to them.....
I told them you don't drive the car"
I say "but mom...you don't drive the car
I'm the only person that drives it now
which is why I wanted to pay for the insurance
in the first damn place!"
I take a couple of deep breaths
and ask where she wants to go to now?
"grocery store" she says
"ok" says I "there's one right across the parking lot"
"I don't like that one" she says
"ok" says I "which one?"
"the one out by our house" she says
"the one we share a parking lot with?" says I
"no the other one" she says
"the one that is exactly the same store
as the one across the parking lot here?" says I
"it's not the same" she says
"it's ugly"
so we go to the grocery store
and while we are in the parking lot
she announces she needs to go to the bank
"which bank?"
the one 20 min away in the same parking lot
that the insurance company and
the ugly grocery store is in
so we turn around and go back
and once she's done that
we go back to the non ugly grocery store
where she walks around for half an hour
and comes out with a trashy magazine
as we get in the car I ask
"can we go home now?"
she says no....she needs to go to the liquor store
it's on the way home
I start the car...
pull outta the parking spot
into the middle of the lot
and the car dies
outta gas
*sigh*
I walk across the street
to a gas station
and ask to borrow a gas can
they don't have one you can borrow
do you have one I can rent?
"no
but I can sell you one
2.5 litre bottle for 12.00" she says
"are you outta yer mind?" I ask
but what choice do I have?
so I buy the can
then I remember that the gas laws in this province
changed yesterday
so I ask..."do I have to prepay or can I use Fast Pay at the pump"
"we don't do Fast Pay" she says
"well then what's that 3 foot fucking sign
out there that says Fast Pay for?" I ask
"oh" she says
I get the gas...and take it back and put it in the VOD mobile
and then I go back over to the pumps
and buy a tank fulla gas
by which point I'm raving like the lunatic I am
"we should go home" the VOD says
"before you kill something"
ya
right....
I think the reason
that the job is "hurting" me so much
is cos of the constant negativity
cos it's exactly the same shit
as I have to live with
day in day out
in caregiving for the VOD
case in point....
last night I asked
"what do we have to do tomorrow?"
she says
"go pay for the car insurance"
I says
"but we're ok till the end of Feb"
she says
"actually it expired at the end of Dec"
I says
"but we talked about this last week
and you told me that you'd checked and it was good
till Feb 29"
she says
"no I didn't"
I've only been saying for a year
that I want her to give me the damn bill
when it comes in
cos I'm the one driving the damn thing....
but no
so I've been an unisured driver
since Jan 1
gak!
so we go
but as we leave I tell her we need gas
"well can't you get it later" she says
"I don't think so" says I
she says "the gas indicator reads 1/4 tank"
I says "Ma...I keep tellin you it's been broken for a year"
she says "well I don't want you driving all over creation
without insurance"
"it's on the way" I says as I'm thinkin
"why is today different than yesterday?"
she goes into hyper drive
about me not listening
to her needs
and I pass by the gas station on the way
to the insurance place
where she decides I can't come in
she wants to do it on her own
she comes back to the car
some 20 min later
and says
"I lied to them.....
I told them you don't drive the car"
I say "but mom...you don't drive the car
I'm the only person that drives it now
which is why I wanted to pay for the insurance
in the first damn place!"
I take a couple of deep breaths
and ask where she wants to go to now?
"grocery store" she says
"ok" says I "there's one right across the parking lot"
"I don't like that one" she says
"ok" says I "which one?"
"the one out by our house" she says
"the one we share a parking lot with?" says I
"no the other one" she says
"the one that is exactly the same store
as the one across the parking lot here?" says I
"it's not the same" she says
"it's ugly"
so we go to the grocery store
and while we are in the parking lot
she announces she needs to go to the bank
"which bank?"
the one 20 min away in the same parking lot
that the insurance company and
the ugly grocery store is in
so we turn around and go back
and once she's done that
we go back to the non ugly grocery store
where she walks around for half an hour
and comes out with a trashy magazine
as we get in the car I ask
"can we go home now?"
she says no....she needs to go to the liquor store
it's on the way home
I start the car...
pull outta the parking spot
into the middle of the lot
and the car dies
outta gas
*sigh*
I walk across the street
to a gas station
and ask to borrow a gas can
they don't have one you can borrow
do you have one I can rent?
"no
but I can sell you one
2.5 litre bottle for 12.00" she says
"are you outta yer mind?" I ask
but what choice do I have?
so I buy the can
then I remember that the gas laws in this province
changed yesterday
so I ask..."do I have to prepay or can I use Fast Pay at the pump"
"we don't do Fast Pay" she says
"well then what's that 3 foot fucking sign
out there that says Fast Pay for?" I ask
"oh" she says
I get the gas...and take it back and put it in the VOD mobile
and then I go back over to the pumps
and buy a tank fulla gas
by which point I'm raving like the lunatic I am
"we should go home" the VOD says
"before you kill something"
ya
right....
Friday, February 01, 2008
Failure...
I've spent years
angling my life
towards the job
I now have
I cleaned up my act
I got clean
and
I got to be “an adult”
I got healthier...
I learned to compensate
for my lack of education
and I strove to get a job
worthy of myself
I worked hard
to get to a point
where I could do something
that could be construed as a career
not just a job
something that I could be proud of
so I got a job
at an “institution of higher learning”
I didn’t go to work there
because I thought I was smart
I know I am
I didn’t go there
because I had something to prove
I’ve proved all I need to in my life
and
I didn’t go there
because I think I’m better
I have no sense of entitlement
I felt that I earned it....
I went there because
I thought it was the payoff
I thought the big game plan
was gonna pay off in the end
that I could work
over the few years
I have to retirement
in a beautiful place,
surrounded by fair
and intelligent humans
and that for these years
I would be able to
work to live not live to work
So you will understand my disappointment
at finding out
that it was all a dream
and that façade is crumbling
Two days ago, Hysteria finally slipped a cog
and “accused” me of breathing too loud
yesterday, she full on snapped
and came flying out of her office,
slammed the door to the hall
and leaned over me at my desk
bearing down on me and
shrieking like the fishwife she’s turned out to be
all because I put my hand over my ear
while on the phone with a customer
to hear the person I talking
while she was barking orders
from the other room
There’s no question in my mind
that if I took all of the info
about what truly happened yesterday
and went to the “authorities”
I could take her to court and win
but for me that’s not the point
the point for me is the complete
and total
utter
disappointment
at having found myself in the position
to have to defend myself yet again
she's manic, menopausal,
and as a Gemini
it's like she's two people and one of them is full on nuts
so ya never know which person you are dealing with
she's a micro-manager of the minutiae
but can't organize her own damn calendar
and she's bitchy cos she went to Herbal Magic
and laid down 2500.00 to have them help her lose 25 lbs
and so far she's just hungry all the time
she's patronizing, condescending and a whiner
she's a gossip and a bully
she’s an I/me person
she talks over and through everyone
which just shows me how insecure she is
she's unethical and unintegral
I've got stories that would make you weep
she's an adrenaline junky and a hypocrite
and she's all about herself
there's nothing that one could consider
being related to "team work" about her
in spite of her constant touting
that she's a team player
and a good listener
(sometimes I think
she says all this stuff out loud
in feeble attempts
to convince herself that she's better than)
she's already caused one person to leave our office in early Nov
and the young woman she hired in her place
while a nice person
doesn't have the tools and/or the life skills
to deal with her particular brand of bullying
and since she hired her at 10,000.00 more a year than I make
I'm the person that's had to train her
cos the loon hired her and 4 days later took off on 6 weeks holidays
so she stood at my desk yesterday leaning across it screaming in my face
telling me "I am the director I will not allow you to ignore me, I will not allow you to be rude."
and I was trying to do is do my job
I've tried every "conflict resolution" skill I own
and I've done CR work my whole damn life
but she's got me stymied.
I think she's ill
I don’t think this is an instance where mediation will work
as she doesn’t recognize that there is a problem
the problem is not her
it is the rest of the world
and nothing is good enough for her
not either of the people working for her
nor her collegues and friends
(if they only knew the kind of things
she says about them
behind their backs)
20 minutes after this screaming episode yesterday
she wants to "hug" to show me she bears no grudges???
ya
no
the venom that came outta
that woman
I'll be a long time
dealing with....
she called me a victim
but I know
I am not
she took the few things
that she knows
about my personal life
and threw them at me like knives
and did not allow me rebuttal
all I could do was simply sit
and take all the abuse
she had to throw
because I know me
and had I even looked up at her
I’d have gone to jail
and then she would have won
so why do I feel like such a failure?
why do I feel like I've somehow failed?
angling my life
towards the job
I now have
I cleaned up my act
I got clean
and
I got to be “an adult”
I got healthier...
I learned to compensate
for my lack of education
and I strove to get a job
worthy of myself
I worked hard
to get to a point
where I could do something
that could be construed as a career
not just a job
something that I could be proud of
so I got a job
at an “institution of higher learning”
I didn’t go to work there
because I thought I was smart
I know I am
I didn’t go there
because I had something to prove
I’ve proved all I need to in my life
and
I didn’t go there
because I think I’m better
I have no sense of entitlement
I felt that I earned it....
I went there because
I thought it was the payoff
I thought the big game plan
was gonna pay off in the end
that I could work
over the few years
I have to retirement
in a beautiful place,
surrounded by fair
and intelligent humans
and that for these years
I would be able to
work to live not live to work
So you will understand my disappointment
at finding out
that it was all a dream
and that façade is crumbling
Two days ago, Hysteria finally slipped a cog
and “accused” me of breathing too loud
yesterday, she full on snapped
and came flying out of her office,
slammed the door to the hall
and leaned over me at my desk
bearing down on me and
shrieking like the fishwife she’s turned out to be
all because I put my hand over my ear
while on the phone with a customer
to hear the person I talking
while she was barking orders
from the other room
There’s no question in my mind
that if I took all of the info
about what truly happened yesterday
and went to the “authorities”
I could take her to court and win
but for me that’s not the point
the point for me is the complete
and total
utter
disappointment
at having found myself in the position
to have to defend myself yet again
she's manic, menopausal,
and as a Gemini
it's like she's two people and one of them is full on nuts
so ya never know which person you are dealing with
she's a micro-manager of the minutiae
but can't organize her own damn calendar
and she's bitchy cos she went to Herbal Magic
and laid down 2500.00 to have them help her lose 25 lbs
and so far she's just hungry all the time
she's patronizing, condescending and a whiner
she's a gossip and a bully
she’s an I/me person
she talks over and through everyone
which just shows me how insecure she is
she's unethical and unintegral
I've got stories that would make you weep
she's an adrenaline junky and a hypocrite
and she's all about herself
there's nothing that one could consider
being related to "team work" about her
in spite of her constant touting
that she's a team player
and a good listener
(sometimes I think
she says all this stuff out loud
in feeble attempts
to convince herself that she's better than)
she's already caused one person to leave our office in early Nov
and the young woman she hired in her place
while a nice person
doesn't have the tools and/or the life skills
to deal with her particular brand of bullying
and since she hired her at 10,000.00 more a year than I make
I'm the person that's had to train her
cos the loon hired her and 4 days later took off on 6 weeks holidays
so she stood at my desk yesterday leaning across it screaming in my face
telling me "I am the director I will not allow you to ignore me, I will not allow you to be rude."
and I was trying to do is do my job
I've tried every "conflict resolution" skill I own
and I've done CR work my whole damn life
but she's got me stymied.
I think she's ill
I don’t think this is an instance where mediation will work
as she doesn’t recognize that there is a problem
the problem is not her
it is the rest of the world
and nothing is good enough for her
not either of the people working for her
nor her collegues and friends
(if they only knew the kind of things
she says about them
behind their backs)
20 minutes after this screaming episode yesterday
she wants to "hug" to show me she bears no grudges???
ya
no
the venom that came outta
that woman
I'll be a long time
dealing with....
she called me a victim
but I know
I am not
she took the few things
that she knows
about my personal life
and threw them at me like knives
and did not allow me rebuttal
all I could do was simply sit
and take all the abuse
she had to throw
because I know me
and had I even looked up at her
I’d have gone to jail
and then she would have won
so why do I feel like such a failure?
why do I feel like I've somehow failed?
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