D.I.Y. Can Be A Pain

I don't go out to eat near as much as I used to. When I lived in Michigan and was securing a heftier pay-check, I would go out to eat with friends at least once a week or so. The change from then is mostly from my growing affection for cooking from scratch at home. And, large credit card bills. Frugality and a maturing palate conspired to make me want to cook for myself.

I pulled from my memories the recipes that I wanted to clone. Toothsome and hearty Oyster Dressing from my mom's dad. Rich, decadent banana pudding from my dad's mom. Christmas cookies from my mom's grandma. Macaroni salad from my mom. All bring back memories. And all bring high expectations. I persevered and can cook side-by-side any family memory.

I might be eating as well as I did before. But, I'm missing the busser, server, dishwasher package offered at restaurants.

The Owner's Sons.

Today, I lost my cool. And I'm known for my cool. I never lose my cool. People wonder at my control of my cool. Today, I mis-placed it for a few seconds.

My immediate supervisor is the owner's son. He came late to the party that is his father's business. But of course, he knows everything. Until his father tells him otherwise. And his father tells him this alot. And loudly. In front of everyone, or in his office with the door open. Yeah, they're classy that way.

Over the course of the last couple months, the dynamic has changed a bit at the workplace. Owner has been more vociferous in his ridiculing of his sons pertaining to their performance. This is all taking place at the same time that Owner Wife is scaling back her time at the shop, so that Twin 1 (I think I've mentioned before that they're twins) can assume more command of the financial side.

Well, Twin 1 is obviously Attention Deficit Disorder inclined, but not diagnosed by any doctor. Twin 2 is the Charming One, with no chance of being recognized by Owner as ever doing anything right. Owner is quick to place blame when a mistake is made, but slow to congratulate good performance. Owner also wants everything done fast, fast, fast. Don't bother taking time to investigate or do homework. Just Get-R-Dun! Although, lately, there's been a few mistakes made that would have been noticed if a moment of reflection had been made when placing 5-figure orders for equipment.

Now, my specialty is taking 5 minutes now to save 2 hours later covering up (one of my big mistakes in the restaurant biz). So, now, when I'm placing $4k orders for glassware, I take my time to research how much I need to order. Only, I'm going too slow for Twin 1. According to him, it should only take 5 minutes to place a four figure order. But, if you miss something while scrambling to slam in an order, you're thrown under the bus faster than you can say 'Greyhound'.

Today, while putting in an order for bar sinks and surrounding accoutrement, our computer said we had an item in stock. I spent a total of five minutes researching where it was, when it was received and who it was ordered for. Twin 1 overheard me asking a fellow worker if he knew where this speed rail was. He castigated me for wasting time trying to find out where it was and if we had ever received it. So, I moved on and just added it to the Purchase Order.

Fifteen minutes later, Twin 1 (having nothing else to do) looked through the Purchase Orders filed today, and pulled the one I placed. He looked over my order and asked me, "Did you look to see if one of our stores had this ice chest in stock?".

After looking at him squarely in the eyes, I said, "No, I didn't want to waste the time."

My nearest workmate didn't hide his surprise very well. If he'd had coffee in his mouth, his computer would have been toast.

I think I got a mental demerit from my boss, the ADD Twin.

And the search goes on for a real job.

Rants and Such

When you work for a family owned business, and your immediate boss is the owner's son, it's hard to complain about the son's mistakes and short-comings.



People who drive in the left lane (the passing lane to those who are informed) at or below the speed limit should be banished from driving priviledges. They are the major cause of traffic back-ups and road rage. Major practitioners are people on cell phones and people driving Benzes with a superiority complex.



I like to listen to talk-radio while I drive. It makes me feel like I'm not wasting my time while driving. Unfortunately, I can't afford Sirius or XM, so I have to listen to the trash that is broadcasted here in the panhandle of Florida. That trash is WEBY 1330 out of Milton, Florida. It is Adolph's own radio station. Old, white, right-wing talk out of the 60's (think Dirty Dancing). It will be it's own post one day.



Customer service is a mis-nomer nowadays. 3 out of 4 times when I call a vendor, I'm either put on hold or am directed to voice-mail. When sent to voice-mail, the average time for reply is around 3 hours. Many times I need to get freight charges from these fine folk so that I can invoice a shipment my customer has been waiting for two weeks to receive. My boss doesn't like for the delivery guys to be standing around waiting for invoices from me.



At the grocery store, the items that are discontinued are usually my favorite. And the ones that sell out the fastest. So, it's not just me that is disappointed. My latest empty slot on the shelves? Diet Vernor's Ginger Ale. America's oldest Ginger Ale and IMHO, the best. If you can find it, it makes my favorite drink: Captain Morgan and Vernors. Tastes like Vanilla Soda. And Diet Vernor's was always the first sold out at Wally World and Winn-Dixie. They still have regular, but I need every last calorie saved that I can get ;)



I travel over a 3-mile long bridge every day to and from work. There are sections where you can see the whole span. I hate it when I see a 100-yard gap where someone in the left lane is driving slower than traffic. I know there's a traffic light at the end where we will all have to stop and catch up. But, I want to slap those people slowing down the left lane speeders like me, even though I know it will save me no time whatsoever, anyways.



People who wear socks with sandals should have their own section in Fashion-Hell.

There will be more. Oh, yes, there will be more.

Yeah, It's Been Awhile

I know that I haven't blogged in awhile, and I feel bad and all that. It's just that I've been in a funk lately, but I really don't like to vent, and complain, and do the whole 'pity party' thing. Who needs that? I don't like to read it, and I'm sure that you don't either. So, I'm gonna do it anyway, since I don't have many people down here to vent to. Which is another problem that I want to vent about. But, that's another post after the one where I complain about my job. And my apartment. And the people down here (or up there to people like RG). I'd tell it to my psychiatrist, but my insurance doesn't cover that, which is another thing to bitch about.

It's late right now, so I will continue Sunday (although, since it's 1:15 am, it's already Sunday).

Posting Problems When You're Computer Ignorant

As you will surmise, and some will know from past posts, I'm not the most astute where computer wits come in to play. So, the new post that I've posted, is a completion of one that I started back in Feb. It's got Braggadocio in the title. You'll have to back-track a little bit. If I knew how to move it, I would. Consider it a challenge.

Hey, A New Post!

Especially, for L. I never knew you cared. Consider your call-out a kick in the butt.

Mini-Mullet Guy's Comeuppance

So, there were six of us in that very bland, very tan room:



Air Force Guy (AFG). Late 20's to early 30's. Soft-spoken and not one to draw attention to himself. A smoker, thank God, since I didn't bring my smokes inside, and willing to bum one to me. I had a mini-crush going.



College Girl (CG). Early 20's and very quiet. Attractive in a way that she didn't herself seem to know. Slow to smile but when she did, it was way catchy. Very studious-like and demure. Would let others cut into her discussion without complaint. At some points, I wanted to scream to her, "Speak up for yourself!".



One-Arm Man (OAM). Country guy to the max, originally from Georgia. Easy going, but I could tell he probably listens to Rush regularly. He had a birth defect where his right arm ended above the elbow and he said one of his legs was a prosthesis.



Loud Crazy Mama (LCM). In her fifties, bright red hair that was showing gray at the roots. Another smoker, but she missed the one smoke break we went on when she was in the restroom. She is funny, quick to laugh, and even quicker to judgement. She was sure of the verdict even before I was, even though I was 95% sure walking into the sequester room.



Tattoo Cub (TC). Big butterball who covered his tattoos with long sleeves on a 74 degree day. Smiled easily, was a little bit country, but not too much.





We arrived at the courthouse at 11:30, LCM was a few minutes late. Each was ushered to the sequester room, after going through the metal detector, by a bailiff/deputy/whatever. It was a little uncomfortable at first because there wasn't really anything to talk about, since we were informed not to talk about the case until deliberations (I'm really getting into all those Law and Order terms now). With the room devoid of all decoration and our main topic of conversation off-limits, we chit-chatted about banal things for a good hour until we were finally called to the courtroom. An hour sitting and talking to five strangers who would rather be someplace else, although almost all agreed that we actually wanted to be picked. Only OAM had been on a jury before, but he said he had nothing else to do. I mostly wanted to be there, although I was having to take a personal day to be there.



Once we were seated in the courtroom, the judge proceeded to read verbatim from a sheet of paper about the rules, and how this was part of America, blah, blah, blah. Let's get on with the show, Judge!



We knew going in that it was a case of DUI, and that the Defendant, Mini-Mullet Guy (MMG), had supposedly refused the Breathalyzer and the Field Sobriety Exercise (FSE). I had always wondered what would happen in that circumstance, and now I was gonna find out. Each lawyer would give an Opening to let us know what we would be hearing and what to expect.



First up is the Prosecutor, Amazon Lawyer (AL). Needless to say she was tall. She was outwardly bookish, with straight blond hair and glasses. She also had the agonizing habit of not finishing a sentence without referring to her notes again. She clearly could have used a Tele-prompter. She also had the galling trait of Objecting to almost every sentence the Defense Attorney spoke. Country Defense Lawyer (CDL) rolled his eyes so many times his eye sockets must have been sore. She would start a sentence like, "And so, we shall be telling you....wait..." and then start sorting through her legal pad and poke at items with her pen until her train of thought got back on track. Annoying. She wasn't very prepared and didn't really prove anything, didn't explain how important the evidence (prior driving record) was, and generally had me thinking early on that MMG was going to be a free man soon.

Next up, the CDL started in on his defense. He had a soft, homey delivery that made me feel a little uncomfortable. His client was dressed in his company sweatshirt and jeans. CDL kept referring to MMG as his "hero". Self-employed, good country boy, hard worker. He came off more of a partier after confessing to having 5 beers in a 3-1/2 hour period and got caught with open containers while going 83 mph with two young chicks. "Supposedly", he kept telling the Trooper that he would take the Breathalyzer, but not the FSE, because he had sore feet and ankles from his construction job (that he had not been working that day). The Trooper told a different story, that he had started the FSE with the ole 'follow the pencil with your eyes while holding your head still', and MMG had been failing miserably, so he started refusing then.

Earlier when the CDL was cross-examining the State Trooper, they got in a little verbal sparring. CDL would keep telling the Trooper, "That's a yes/no question, stop embellishing!". After final arguments, we summized that the judge took them both to the wood-shed, because CDL apologized to us after we returned.

The prosecutor, AL, did a terrible job. She should have done the whole alcohol training thing, with a chart showing MMG's weight, what 5 beers would be percentage wise, etc. Not a mention, except for Trooper's description of him stumbling and being unsteady. I ended up doing an impromtu training session in the deliberation room for OAM, who insisted some people could handle 5 beers with no problem. TC was on the fence about it, but came around eventually.

The straws that broke the camel's back:

The prior driving record. Only one line showed with the above 4 inches whited-out. It was for refusing a Breathalyzer back in 2002. The defense couldn't (or wouldn't) go into detail and just showed this to us. Back in the deliberation room we scrutinized it further. In Florida, it's an automatic 1 year suspension of your driver's license for refusing to blow, but the evidense showed be lost his priviledge for 2 years. Hmmm, musta had a DUI then, also. And with all that blank space above, MMG had obviously not been an angel on the interstate.

Next, admitting to having 5 beers. CDL argued (unsuccessfully) that, "See, he was truthful. He coulda lied. He had nothing to hide. He was not drunk."

MMG had no witnesses, although there were two women in the car who were supposedly friends and neighbors. Where were they?

MMG kept changing his story. First he told the trooper 5 times during the car ride that he would take the Breathalyzer, then half a dozen, then 3. Also, he said he offered again at the jail, but the Trooper ignored that. Hello, you're in the jail. I'm sure you could have found someone who would give the blow-test to you. Trooper said MMG never offered to take the test. I had to believe the Trooper on this one.

OAM kept arguing that there was no proof to convict, that we couldn't be sure he was impaired. The other four of us kept hammering back, "But he admitted to 5 beers and was driving 83 on a section of Interstate crawling with cops! How impaired do you want him to be?" Logic finally entered his brain and he agreed, begrudgingly.

When the verdict was read in the courtroom, there was not a flinch from MMG or CDL. They must have been expecting it, because they showed no surprise whatsoever.

I feel fine with the outcome. I'm just glad one more drunk driver is off the road, especially if he was a multiple offender. MMG is in his late 30's and obviously didn't learn his lesson the first
time. I said in the deliberation room that I'd be the first to admit to having driven drunk before. We all admitted it. Just because we never got caught didn't make it right.