So much is happening in our neighborhood! Where, oh where, do I begin?
With the Clog-dancers on the other side of the wall.
First, let's talk about just flat out how WEIRD they are. And what slobs. Seriously. Having to duct tape the crack around the door that connects the basements to contain the smell to their side is a pretty severe stench, don't you think? Considering that we have 3 cats..and they have 3 cats...and no, it's not that we're used to our cats' smelly boxes. Our cat boxes get CLEANED OUT. And we don't pile all our garbage we're too lazy to take to the curb for pick up in the basement, either.
Second, they have a 3 year old. He's never wearing shoes when we see him--even in the dead of winter, he's not wearing shoes. I don't know why.
Third, they never let the kid out. Really, the kid stands in the screened open windows, winter and summer, like he's amazed there is a world out there. Occasionally, he'll pound on the windows in an effort to escape. And yes, there's ALWAYS an open window or six at their house--even in the winter.
Fourth, she has a boyfriend who has been staying over. And no, not when he's at work. While he's there. The guy has been here more than he's not been here lately, and we've suspected that he was living there. Mr Dope has been at home WITH the guy, when Ms Dope goes to work. The guy has spent the night there, with the family.
Yeah. Ewwwww just doesn't cover it.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Neighbors in the Mumple Zone
My immediate next-door neighbors are strange.
They have windows open all year round (we live in western PA, for God's sake!) and they run FANS on-and-off throughout the winter, too.
They clog their kitchen drain with grease. Then can't figure out why it's clogged.
Their smell comes through the connecting-basement door (did I mention it's a duplex?) We have to duct tape the door to keep the stench down. And yes, it's worse than Ass Caverns, the Toad's room.
They're jarred the ballast in the downstairs light fixtures so often, that they've been replaced at least once a year since they've moved in. They don't know how to change lightbulbs.
Their toddler son stands in the windows, during summer, scratching at the screens. We think he's trying to escape.
They keep weird hours. Like all night long hours.
Currently, it sounds like they are clog dancing on the walls.
Most of this wouldn't be too much of an issue (the last tenants had sex in the living room every day for the first 8 months they lived there--I know this, because my basement is partway under their house and we could HEAR them, sometimes, through the walls, too.) except that, well, they are LARGE people. Supersized people.
Okay, there's no way 'round it. They're fat.
And when I hear the clog dancing begin, I get worried...if they are clog dancing on the walls, there's a pretty good chance they're coming through the walls at some point. And the reek with them.
Oh, and if I go over and knock on their door? There's a really good chance someone is answering that door without a shirt on. And it's not necessarily HIM. Bwah.
They have windows open all year round (we live in western PA, for God's sake!) and they run FANS on-and-off throughout the winter, too.
They clog their kitchen drain with grease. Then can't figure out why it's clogged.
Their smell comes through the connecting-basement door (did I mention it's a duplex?) We have to duct tape the door to keep the stench down. And yes, it's worse than Ass Caverns, the Toad's room.
They're jarred the ballast in the downstairs light fixtures so often, that they've been replaced at least once a year since they've moved in. They don't know how to change lightbulbs.
Their toddler son stands in the windows, during summer, scratching at the screens. We think he's trying to escape.
They keep weird hours. Like all night long hours.
Currently, it sounds like they are clog dancing on the walls.
Most of this wouldn't be too much of an issue (the last tenants had sex in the living room every day for the first 8 months they lived there--I know this, because my basement is partway under their house and we could HEAR them, sometimes, through the walls, too.) except that, well, they are LARGE people. Supersized people.
Okay, there's no way 'round it. They're fat.
And when I hear the clog dancing begin, I get worried...if they are clog dancing on the walls, there's a pretty good chance they're coming through the walls at some point. And the reek with them.
Oh, and if I go over and knock on their door? There's a really good chance someone is answering that door without a shirt on. And it's not necessarily HIM. Bwah.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Best EVER
The company I work for has decided that the best way to convince the consuming masses to continue to consume (ie spend loads of money with us) is to be all-up-in-yer-face with the whole customer service bit.
That means that there is never a customer in our store that is not harrassed into spending money or running for the doors when approached by EVERY.ASSOCIATE.EVER. asking some form of "how can I force you to accept my help today?"
Last night at work, I received the best customer response ever. And I am, of course, taking it out of context:
Me, in Full-On-Annoyo-Mode: "Hi. Can I help you find anything today?"
Customer: "My husband needs a screw."
That means that there is never a customer in our store that is not harrassed into spending money or running for the doors when approached by EVERY.ASSOCIATE.EVER. asking some form of "how can I force you to accept my help today?"
Last night at work, I received the best customer response ever. And I am, of course, taking it out of context:
Me, in Full-On-Annoyo-Mode: "Hi. Can I help you find anything today?"
Customer: "My husband needs a screw."
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Oddiments
In the past few months, I've ventured into the time suck world of facebook. I avoided it as long as possible, but eventually had to join to see pics of my Howler from Christmas. So, over all, an honorable reason for caving, or so I tell myself.
But this isn't about my justifying my cavyness, it's about how totally nuts some people are, and my shock at discovering it over and over and over again. (Just when I thought it was safe to acknowledge I knew ye...)
Anyway, I've posted about my crazyassed neighbor before. Anyway, she ended up with my email addy. Which, all things considered, I'd rather be able to delete her email than have to listen to her voice--getting on the phone with her can be worse than being on the phone with my mother. Trust me, email is a waaaaaay better option. So, she started sending me emails to join this thing or that thing...mostly so I can see pictures of her and her Loser boyfriend. Uh, no, thanks. Much as I'd like to see your 48DDD knockers in a bridesmaid dress....PSYCH! I mean, NOT!
Yeah, that.
So I get on Time Suck Central and eventually decide to go whole hog and look her up. And send her a friend request. And invite her to be my neighbor on one of the Time Suck Games.
This is the nutty part: She does NOT accept or ignore my requests. She instead invites me to JOIN FACEBOOK. Then proceeds to send me gifts and the crap that you can do when you play the Time Suck Game.
And then people wonder why I hear circus music when I see them.
But this isn't about my justifying my cavyness, it's about how totally nuts some people are, and my shock at discovering it over and over and over again. (Just when I thought it was safe to acknowledge I knew ye...)
Anyway, I've posted about my crazyassed neighbor before. Anyway, she ended up with my email addy. Which, all things considered, I'd rather be able to delete her email than have to listen to her voice--getting on the phone with her can be worse than being on the phone with my mother. Trust me, email is a waaaaaay better option. So, she started sending me emails to join this thing or that thing...mostly so I can see pictures of her and her Loser boyfriend. Uh, no, thanks. Much as I'd like to see your 48DDD knockers in a bridesmaid dress....PSYCH! I mean, NOT!
Yeah, that.
So I get on Time Suck Central and eventually decide to go whole hog and look her up. And send her a friend request. And invite her to be my neighbor on one of the Time Suck Games.
This is the nutty part: She does NOT accept or ignore my requests. She instead invites me to JOIN FACEBOOK. Then proceeds to send me gifts and the crap that you can do when you play the Time Suck Game.
And then people wonder why I hear circus music when I see them.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Phonophobia
It's a real thing, and it's really called that.
It's also really really annoying.
Why am I ranting about this now? The Smiling Cashier is afraid to use the phone. If she's covering one of the desks, you can bet your sweet ass that YOU will be answering the phone. In the off-hand chance she does answer the phone, she's going to transfer it to you anyway, no matter how deep in customer issues you may be.
She's also not going to answer simple questions regarding return policy (even though, it's my opinion that if you work for this retail megalomonolith, you should be able to know and understand the basic return policy by the time you've collected 2 paychecks--process a return? Not necessarily, but understand the policy that directs the return process: Yes, absolutely.
She doesn't page. Most of the time, if she has dialed the 3 digits that will connect her to the person most able to provide her with change/register tape/whatever and has either reached a busy signal OR is not connected, she simply gives up.
She generally doesn't dial the 3 digits that will connect her to a supervisor, manager, or department.
A few days ago, she was at the return desk (hence the beginning of the rant about not answering the simplest of questions) and she asks ME to call the guy with the key to get her register tape. I told her, out of sheer frustration at her stupidity, "I'm not a head cashier. Call 806." Unfortunately, 806 was walking near me at that point, so I had no choice but to do her bidding. Damm!
Last night, she walked PAST 3 other red vests, and several phones to ask me to call a department for a customer. It took everything I had to not pick up the phone, hand it to her, dial the numbers and tell HER to do the talking.
Afterwards, I turned to 806 and said, "PLEASE TEACH HER TO USE THE PHONE! Did you see her WALK AWAY FROM THE PHONE NEAREST TO HER, past a bank of working phones and TWO OTHER people to ask ME to do her job for her? TEACH HER TO USE THE PHONE. TODAY." What the hell does she do when I'm not there?
And then they call me "mean" when I say things like she couldn't find her ass with both hands, a map, and a tour guide.
It's also really really annoying.
Why am I ranting about this now? The Smiling Cashier is afraid to use the phone. If she's covering one of the desks, you can bet your sweet ass that YOU will be answering the phone. In the off-hand chance she does answer the phone, she's going to transfer it to you anyway, no matter how deep in customer issues you may be.
She's also not going to answer simple questions regarding return policy (even though, it's my opinion that if you work for this retail megalomonolith, you should be able to know and understand the basic return policy by the time you've collected 2 paychecks--process a return? Not necessarily, but understand the policy that directs the return process: Yes, absolutely.
She doesn't page. Most of the time, if she has dialed the 3 digits that will connect her to the person most able to provide her with change/register tape/whatever and has either reached a busy signal OR is not connected, she simply gives up.
She generally doesn't dial the 3 digits that will connect her to a supervisor, manager, or department.
A few days ago, she was at the return desk (hence the beginning of the rant about not answering the simplest of questions) and she asks ME to call the guy with the key to get her register tape. I told her, out of sheer frustration at her stupidity, "I'm not a head cashier. Call 806." Unfortunately, 806 was walking near me at that point, so I had no choice but to do her bidding. Damm!
Last night, she walked PAST 3 other red vests, and several phones to ask me to call a department for a customer. It took everything I had to not pick up the phone, hand it to her, dial the numbers and tell HER to do the talking.
Afterwards, I turned to 806 and said, "PLEASE TEACH HER TO USE THE PHONE! Did you see her WALK AWAY FROM THE PHONE NEAREST TO HER, past a bank of working phones and TWO OTHER people to ask ME to do her job for her? TEACH HER TO USE THE PHONE. TODAY." What the hell does she do when I'm not there?
And then they call me "mean" when I say things like she couldn't find her ass with both hands, a map, and a tour guide.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
On The First Day
My first day back to work was Monday, February 1. Yippee.
Cry Me A River went home early--big shocker there. With it being my first day back (and the rumors that were flying were that I quit, and that I was fired) I received a rather larger amount of attention from my coworkers. As she witnessed this, in between her breaks (she was there for 3.5 hours of her 7 hour shift and she was back in the break room every hour) you could see her body language turning sour: Someone ELSE was receiving the attention. You can guess what her drama is based on what attention someone else is getting.
Anyway, on to the Freak of the Day:
I was covering a break at Returns. I watched as this guy who claims to have graduated with me walks past no less than 7 red vests to come ask me a question--a question that was ALREADY answered. And he kept talking to me.
Ugh. I was gone for 6 weeks. I haven't seen this Freak for months before that. And he chooses to make up a question and come ask me? Is it any wonder I keep saying I attract freaks?
Cry Me A River went home early--big shocker there. With it being my first day back (and the rumors that were flying were that I quit, and that I was fired) I received a rather larger amount of attention from my coworkers. As she witnessed this, in between her breaks (she was there for 3.5 hours of her 7 hour shift and she was back in the break room every hour) you could see her body language turning sour: Someone ELSE was receiving the attention. You can guess what her drama is based on what attention someone else is getting.
Anyway, on to the Freak of the Day:
I was covering a break at Returns. I watched as this guy who claims to have graduated with me walks past no less than 7 red vests to come ask me a question--a question that was ALREADY answered. And he kept talking to me.
Ugh. I was gone for 6 weeks. I haven't seen this Freak for months before that. And he chooses to make up a question and come ask me? Is it any wonder I keep saying I attract freaks?
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Discovery
And I hate it.
I hate that the one (yes, JUST ONE) childish thing I am is...
I am a phone slammer. But only at work.
If I'm already needing to pee really really badly, and I call and ask for coverage so I can "TCP" and I get asked, "Again?" There's a really good chance I'm going to become a total ass and slam the phone down.
And I hate it.
Just when I think that I've got it under control, up it pops again. I hate it, even if, otherwise, I'm right on every other point in this.
I expect I'll be written up for it--I believe that 2 years ago, I had a stern "talking to" about it, which would qualify me as a write-up target. At this point, I hope I do--'cuz I'm gonna document that I should NOT be asked "Again?" if my last opportunity to "TCP" was and hour and a half ago--when I was off the clock (for the record, I did go then.)
But I hate this about myself. Dammit!
I hate that the one (yes, JUST ONE) childish thing I am is...
I am a phone slammer. But only at work.
If I'm already needing to pee really really badly, and I call and ask for coverage so I can "TCP" and I get asked, "Again?" There's a really good chance I'm going to become a total ass and slam the phone down.
And I hate it.
Just when I think that I've got it under control, up it pops again. I hate it, even if, otherwise, I'm right on every other point in this.
I expect I'll be written up for it--I believe that 2 years ago, I had a stern "talking to" about it, which would qualify me as a write-up target. At this point, I hope I do--'cuz I'm gonna document that I should NOT be asked "Again?" if my last opportunity to "TCP" was and hour and a half ago--when I was off the clock (for the record, I did go then.)
But I hate this about myself. Dammit!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)