continuation *now with update*

Remember the crazy old lady that decided to send me $40 instead of $35 for a necklace, and then ask for change?

Here are the emails that have been exchanged since then, cut and pasted (with her name deleted):

Hi there, I just wanted to let you know, that I received the necklace. It is so beautiful. However, the total was $35, and I sent $40. I didn't receive my change. I was unable to get the correct change, so that is why I sent $40.

Hello,
I'm glad you like the necklace. I'm sorry about the $5, but I was unable to make change either. This is why I normally prefer paypal.

I am 100% unable to get out and get any type of change, personal issues. I hesitated to pay $35 for the necklace, but had $40 so thinking the seller would send my change back with no problems, I do hope you will try to get my change to me asap, after all you were paid more then the amount of payment showed.

You should have cleared this with me first, and I would have told you. Like I said, this is why I prefer paypal.
I made an exception for you.

**************
Yes, I'm a callous bitch. But I told her to send $35, and I never said I would make change. My etsy store does say "all orders must be paid within 3 days via paypal" and I did make an exception for her. She could have written a check or something if she was unable to get exact change. I don't know what her "personal issues" are, but if she could get $40, she could get $35. Plus, she wasted so much paper and tape (and tin foil) sending it to me that I feel the $5 is worth my effort just to open it up.

Lady, you can't just assume things. If she HAD asked before hand, things would have been different. But she doesn't know anything about me. Maybe I have "personal issues" as well that prevent me from sending her change. Also, the "receipt" she wrote up herself and included with the money didn't say that she sent me $40. You'd think she'd want to emphasize that. I sent that back to her, btw.

I'm sure I just shattered an old lady's faith in humanity. But you know what? I don't care. That money bought me a meal. It's not like I threw that extra $5 onto my growing pile of money. That was dinner. I'm not going to say poverty is any excuse, but maybe things would have been different if I didn't need the money in order to EAT. I'll trade a meal for a pain in the butt customer any day.

Never assume anything when you're buying something from a stranger.

(Let the hate mail begin.)


**UPDATE**
Here is the email I received this morning:

Don't go blaming this on me!! How dare you. You should have mentioned to send the correct change. One thing is for sure there is NO WAY, I'd ever buy from you again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm not dignifying that with a response. Good bye and good riddance.

what would des readers do?

Remember how sometimes I sell jewelry? (Yeah I barely remember either, that's ok.) But I got a message via etsy the other week asking if I would take "well concealed cash" as a payment instead of paypal, which is the standard. I'll admit, I'm hurting for money and it was only $7, so I said yes. Then she changed her mind and wanted a cool necklace that I've had for a while. Fine, more money. I had to "remind" her to actually purchase the item through etsy, and she could send payment that way.

So today Jay gets the mail while I'm at work. He calls me, which is weird because normally he would just text or email. Well, the cash certainly was well concealed. The outer envelope is completely covered in scotch tape. Inside, there's a receipt of sorts, with order #, price, etc. This is also covered in tape. Inside this is another envelope. Inside this is a bundle of tin foil and a note that says "please send change with necklace." Then there's the cash.

She sent me $40 instead of the $35 that she needed to.

Is it really so hard to break a twenty dollar bill? So I'm a little annoyed. After all the pain in the butt, I'm expected to send her proper change. What makes her think I have a better chance of breaking that 20 than she did?

So I'm conflicted. I think I'm going to keep the extra $5. Yes, I would hate for someone to not send me my change, but then again, I would not ever require change for my purchase. I would have sent the proper amount. Actually, I would have just used paypal. Sure, the seller takes a small hit, but it's so much easier.

What would you do?

awkward....

Gentlemen - caballeros - I apologize if you can't identify with this post. It's not about menstruation or anything, but I think that the following is more common among the fairer sex.

Ladies, how often have you seen a coworker crying in the bathroom? It could be caused by anything from missing the bus to being dumped to a loved one dying (though in my experience, if a coworker's daughter dies, she doesn't bother going into the bathroom to cry). But it never fails to be awkward for me, especially if I barely know the coworker. "Um, hi, I see that you are very upset - maybe because your mascara is running all over your face? - but I really just need to pee and then get on with my day."

Even more awkward is if the bawling is so loud that it can be heard outside of the bathroom. Like down the hall. In my office. Near the front door. Where everyone who walks through can hear loud sobbing. I totally sound like a callous bitch here, but it makes it hard for me to concentrate on my phone calls when the upset woman in the bathroom is disrupting me. Yes, I'm sure something must be really wrong for her to be crying like that, and I hope my eyes are never compelled to leak that way. But seriously, I swear the people on the phone can hear it in the background. If they can't they can definitely hear me making less than coherent sentences. This makes me sound like I don't know what I'm talking about, so the people don't want to bring their business in, so I don't get more money.

But I can't go knock on the (single stall) bathroom door and be like "listen lady, I don't know what's up your butt, but you need to stop crying so I can concentrate." But I kinda wanted to.

an open letter - he knows who he is

You're lame. Lame and a baby. I realize that I hurt your feelings. But did you ever consider that you were hurting my feelings with all the events that led up to that? Or when you wanted absolutely no contact for 6 months, and you bade me take every little thing with me when I left so that you wouldn't have to face any memories at all?

Pardon me for trying to stay friends. I deeply apologize for what was clearly an invasion of your personal space -- sending you a friend request on facebook. Even though we live 1000 miles apart, you won't even acknowledge me on an impersonal website. No I take that back. You did send me a 2-word note, getting the message across that you want nothing to do with me.

I hope you're reading this, because I know you check up on me via my blog. You know I've been very respectful and have not told the internets anything. I hope you know that in a coupla months when you're a well-paid professional I will be asking for the money you owe me. You remember, all that credit card debt I accrued moving us across the country and then supporting us while we lived in the most expensive city in the country. Yes, I realize that you had some loans to cover some of our living expenses, but there were times when you had absolutely no income, and that's why my credit card debt is so high. I even had to sell the car that I loved, in order to barely scrape by.

I want you to know that I'm done trying to be friends now. The only result is that I start crying, and I don't need that . I'll be like you and pretend that the last 11 years of my life never happened. Tomorrow would have been our 11th anniversary, as I'm sure you're aware. But I've come to realize that I'm much better off without you in my life, as you still make me cry without even talking to me.

So long and farewell.

secret confession

Don't read this if you live in my apartment building.

Since Midnight has recently decided he likes to pee on things that are inside the house rather than outside like a good doggy, laundry had to be done. The dryer on the 1st floor (where I live) is often a jerk and stops after going for only a few short minutes, so oftentimes the dryer on the second floor is used. If I don't keep on it, I'll forget about the laundry. This is why I make a point to keep on it.

So today, I ran upstairs to check on the load. Still drying. So I went home. Few minutes later, I ran back up. Still drying, and this time someone had started the washer going. Each floor has one washer and one dryer, so I thought it was odd that this person couldn't wait a few minutes til my dryer load was done, as everyone knows that washers are faster than dryers.

I go upstairs again. Still drying and still washing. Back home. I might mention at this time that I'm not doing anything super time consuming - I'm rockin out some Guitar Hero. After a coupla songs, seriously no more than 15 minutes, I go back upstairs because I know my laundry's gotta be just about done by now. As I walk up, I can hear the dryer still going. That's weird. I get there, and I see my load of laundry sitting in a wrinkled hump on top of the dryer. The Laundry Interloper has clearly switched their load over because I was taking too long.

I have 2 problems with this:
First, my laundry was not sitting in the dryer for that long. I know this because of the constant running upstairs to check and because my laundry was still warm.
Second, don't just pile clothes in a heap! That's how things get horribly wrinkled! I'll let it slide this time because it wasn't my interview clothes... it was the dog's blankets and some assorted clothing. But still. Rude rude rude.

So what did I do? I may have said out loud "god, what an asshole" as I slightly opened the dryer door to make it stop. And I did not push the start button to keep a'tumbling. That's right, Impatient Betty (I'm not assuming this person is a woman because he or she is doing laundry - I just like the way "Impatient Betty" sounds as a phrase) will soon discover - actually, probably already has - that she has to shell out another dollar to get her clothes dry. Karma's a bitch, and so am I.



ps - This is the excitement that makes up my days.

at least it makes for a good story

I just got back from my second job interview of the week. It wasn't as exciting as my last one for 2 reasons: it's a place I don't really really want to work, and it was a group interview.

Group interviews are the worst. In theory they save time because there is a "screening" process, but isn't what the application / resume are for? But now I'm going to dish out all the dirt on this one, because that's what I do.

There were supposed to be 5 people interviewing. But the interviewer guy (IG) messed up and told 2 people different times than he scheduled them for. This is already off to a great start, due to the complete and total organization of IG. So there were 7 people. That's slightly less time than the already narrow window we each have to talk about ourselves. Speaking of talking about ourselves, the group was asked 2 questions. Two. How can you judge if someone is hirable based on 2 questions? Well maybe we would give appropriate answers in the time allotted to us. Sure, but IG spent 75% of the interview talking about himself. Not about the company or the position, himself.

Since I didn't care a lick for what any of the group said, I spent my time taking mental notes (which were transcribed onto paper the second I was out of there -- thank goodness for my tiny notebook). Of course, I was seated between the most interesting characters of the day.

To my left, a guy wearing a baseball cap, a hooded sweatshirt, and jeans. To an interview! I totally scrutinize how people are dressed during interviews. I of course dress for success and to impress (it rhymes so it must be true). So not only did this guy look like a total slob, he absolutely reeked of pot. Seriously, dude, don't smoke the marijuana immediately prior to meeting someone that could potentially pay you. Wait til after. It's like a half hour.
Also, this guy had the worst grammar and sentence structure I've ever heard. He said he'd lived in Germany his whole life, but he didn't have an accent. He was definitely not rocking the whole "Engrish as a second language" excuse.
Then to top it all off, he "mentioned" how he had just dropped like $1200 in the very store he was applying to because of their stellar customer service. Well then where are your $1200 clothes? Kissing fake ass impresses nobody, especially me (the important one here).

To my right was a disaster. She was probably at least 45 years old, with an orange tan, bleached blond hair, and disgustingly caked on makeup. Oh yeah, and she was wearing jeans too. She kept talking about all these stores she had managed which are now out of business. She gave at least 3 examples. I don't know if she was trying to name drop or what, but the fact that she managed them and now they are out of business should have been a red flag. Connection? Hmmm. And why are you looking for a part time, minimum wage job anyway? Don't you have kids to support?

I'm sure someone went home and immediately told the internets about the well dressed girl who kept bragging about being from NYC. Well of course that was me. I did mention NYC in both my answers to the questions (all 2 of them!) but that just so happens to be where my last job was. And at least I looked good doing it, dammit.

Those people IG is "interested in" can expect a call next week, or if he forgets, in 2 weeks. Yeah remember that whole organized thing he had going? Not so much. Honestly, I won't cry if I don't get one of the coveted callbacks. I do need a job, and I can only assume I am better than 2 of the others I was interviewed with, but I still have some damn standards, people.

potentials trip

I haven't written anything recently because nothing of interest has crossed my mind. However. Starting tomorrow my Jay and I will be somewhere other than Snowland. We're making a trip to Florida where I get to meet my potential in-laws (!) and wear summer clothes. Oh and we get a new car. (New for us, silly. We don't have any money for a new new car.)

Then we'll be driving our new car up north, possibly stopping in Savannah, GA just because it suddenly fascinates me, and onto NC where the meetings include a best friend in law and a sister in law. Then home through Lousville, KY to hang with the best friend in law that I have already met. There will be other stops along the way, and we should be back home in like a week or so.

Translation: I'm meeting Jay's family for the first time on this trip, so even though I don't have much to say now, I will definitely have stories and pictures when I'm back cooped up inside away from the snow.


ps - in case you didn't get the memo, potential in laws means that because Jay and I are not married, I get to judge his family and see if I want them to be in my lives forever.
Just kidding. Dang, what a bitch!

des the grinch

Yesterday while flipping through the xmas books that are on display at the store, a memory hit me. It wasn't a memory of a specific event, but of a specific feeling.

To sum it up, I dislike xmas.

Looking at some kids' book about sheep made me annoyed and exasperated at the same time. Sure I love seeing my family and giving (and getting) presents, but I hate traveling, I hate xmas shopping, I hate the general expectations of everyone. I hate that xmases are different from when I was a kid, though I didn't really like them then either. I liked waking up early and seeing the tree and lights and presents, but I didn't like having to wait for everyone else to wake up. Once the presents are open, the rest of the day is boring and stressful. There's nothing good on tv, and you spend your day in preparation to either go somewhere or wait for other people to come to you. You can't eat on a normal schedule because there is a big meal planned. Everything is closed so you can't leave the house. It's cold outside anyway.

Not to mention that I'm not at all religious and it is a religious holiday.

Plus I've had some bad xmases. Sure there was the time I rocked the Vanilla Ice cassette, but there was also the time I had bronchitis and strep throat at the same time and had to be put in quarantine because my SIL was pregnant. The local doctors said they didn't take my insurance, which was a complete and utter lie. (Luckily the best doctor ever, the fabulous Dr. K, came through for me.)
Then there was last year when I tried to fly home and I only had 3 days because the company I worked for would collapse without me and it was the most hellish trip ever: in addition to the bitchy people in Newark, the flights got delayed, so I missed a connecting flight and the airline wouldn't help me out so I had to rent a car and drive for 6 hours. All on xmas eve. Then I had to turn around and do it again in less than 48 hours.

This year I will have to deal with some things that I don't want to talk about, and I even less want to experience. Again it will be nice to see my family, but not under the circumstances. And I don't get to see my inlaws because that would require a lot more travel because CA such a damn big state. C and I aren't even traveling together, so I will be alone for a while.

I say it right now: I'm not a fan of xmas. I like Halloween and my bday. Halloween just passed. My bday is June 14 (Flag Day) so I still have 7 months.

Bah humbug.

the des interview

You know I can't resist talking about myself, but the question always looms, "what do I write?"
Well, the opportunity to be "interviewed" came up, and the opportunist in me snatched up the chance.

1. You are a California girl living now in New York. Where do you feel most 'at home'? What cultural differences do you love and hate about both places?(Do you loathe the term 'California girl'? I've heard a few women say they did)

That’s 3 questions and 2 statements. Anyhoo, I still consider CA my home. That’s where the fam lives, though I will never again live in either of the cities that my parents or Craig’s parents live in. I love NYC, but I could never live here with kids. I want my kids to have a house with a yard and a “normal” childhood experience, which is what I had. So I will totally live here and continue loving it until I start a family. Then, back to CA, where the grandparents get to help out!

As for loving and loathing, that’s too big a topic that I don’t feel like going into fully. I love not having to drive, but it’s also nice to be able to escape once in a while. I love that I can get anything I want at any time of day just around my ‘hood here, but with internet shopping and whatever, it’s kinda the same in CA.

(And “California Girl” is acceptable, but just don’t ever call it “Cali.”)

2. I admire your artistic jewelry making skills. What do you do for inspiration and do you have any other artistic endeavors?

I usually steal other people’s ideas. Then I make them better and avoid copyright infringement. But often I’ll see something in a store or on someone, and be like “pssht, I can make that.” And then I do. Or, I’ll just invent something in my head and see if I can make it work in real life. Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t.

It’s really hard to do anything if I’m not in the mood, or feeling the inspiration. I used to draw with colored pencils, pastels, paint, and other stuff like that. I also have been known to sew things. And duh, I write too. Pretty much anything artistic or creative, I’ll do or have done (and have boxes of supplies if I ever need them again). Whether or not it’s good… that’s not up to me to decide.

3. Have you ever had the need to tell someone to go f- themselves(or the like) and did you enjoy it as much I would?(since I've always wanted to do so but usually chicken out) If yes, explain. If no, who would be the first person you would say that to if given the chance with no consequences to worry about?

I always say what I’m feeling. If you catch me in the right mood, you may get told to fuck off. Or, I might just make a face and walk away. I could also turn to whomever I’m with and explain to them what a butt you are, so that you can hear what I’m saying but know that I wouldn’t stoop to talk to you because you suck. I could also do any combination of the 3. Either way, people I meet always know how I feel about them. Maybe this is why strangers rarely talk to me!

And yes, it generally feels pretty darn good. That's why I keep doing it.

4. What was the last song you heard on your ipod and have you ever had a song you HATED but kept intruding in your brain? What was it.

The last song I heard was “Under Pressure” by Queen & David Bowie. I like that song. However, often is the time when I get songs in my head that I hate. I’m highly suggestible in that way. Someone just has to mention something that reminds me of a song (good or bad) and I get that song in my head. It’s more than a little annoying as a super power.

5. Out of all the books you love, if you could make one into a movie and have total say in the entire production, what book would you choose and who would you pick to play the characters?

That’s too hard. I generally don’t like movies made out of books. My fave bumper sticker said “Don’t judge a book by its movie.” However, there are some movies that are good adaptations. One of my faves is “Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas” and not only because it’s so insane and I heart Johnny Depp. (But that is definitely part of it!) But Terry Gilliam did a pretty good job of translating Hunter S. Thompson’s words into visuals, and though some of the book is not included, that’s to be expected.

My LEAST fave book-to-movie is “I, Robot” with Will Smith. I never even saw that movie, but it’s “based” on one of my super fave books and I could tell from the ads that it had nothing to do with the book, which is actually a collection of themed short stories. It did look like another Isaac Asimov book, “The Robots of Dawn,” but that’s a whole ‘nuther rant. I’m sure the movie is good in itself, but the fact that it’s called “I, Robot” makes me angry. There are other ones that do that too.

And now I realize that I didn’t answer your question, but you know what? Too bad. I answered something else, that was apparently on my chest and needed answering.

ps - I have another meme coming up just on books. Stay tuned for that one.

Phew. Thanks to Ms. Little Pea for these tremendous questions, and if anyone wants me to ask them some even more equally intriguing questions, let me know.

always a bridesmaid

I'm sorry, but I just can't hear about any more people getting engaged. I know I should be happy for them because they are my friends (read: I do not wish them any specific harm), but my selfishness comes out and I stamp my foot and say "I wanna get married too!"

I was able to let the last one slide because the bride is my best friend and I was Maid of Honor, so I kinda got married anyway. That means since I got to hold flowers and wear a pretty dress and stand up on the altar and help with the planning and stuff, it was kinda like my wedding. But it wasn't my wedding. I wasn't the focus. (though someone did ask if I was the bride's sister. WTF are you doing here if you don't know that the bride has no sister?) I don't have someone that has promised to spend the rest of his (or her - I'm still open to that) life with me.

So I got through that engagement / wedding. But now I am being told (by Craig of all people!) of all these other people who have just gotten engaged. Oh, you've been together 2 years? Neat. I've beaten you 5 times over. But he tells me all the details of the proposal and any plans that have surfaced, and you know what? I just can't take it anymore. I don't want to hear it.

So if you're reading this and you recently got engaged, please don't tell me about it. In theory, I am so excited for you, but in reality it just makes me frown.

competing illnesses

I was awoken at 4am because Craig didn't feel well. My first thought was that he was just trying to get attention because I am hogging it all with my current injuries. Attention from who? I don't know. But then his 101-degree fever did give me some worry.

So I stumbled around in the dark on a bad ankle fetching him hopeful fever reducers like cold water to drink, a wet towel for his head, and ibuprofen. He lie there complaining about not feeling well and not being able to sleep. Nevermind how I felt.

Craig and I are an incredibly bad combination when we're both sick. We are terribly selfish, and not feeling well increases the crankiness tenfold. It's not unusual to have stupid fights over nothing. Lucky for us, we both understand the rules so all is forgiven when we are no longer sick.

A typical scene occurred yesterday. We were both out of the house; he to the doctor and I to do some errands. We were supposed to meet up when finished because we were near each other and could just ride the train home together. I ended up finishing all my things before he finished his appointment, so the meeting place kept moving closer and closer to him. I was carrying 2 plastic bags (paper towels, kleenex, etc) AND walking on a bad ankle, while he was coughing and running a (smaller) fever. The last straw came when he told me to walk to his subway stop instead of the one I felt I was closer to. He said "I don't feel good, I don't want to walk." Passersby could see me yelling into my cell phone "And you think I feel good?"

But I gave in and walked to his stop. I didn't see him. So I got on the train. He had made it very clear that he wasn't feeling well and wanted to get home ASAP. So I figured that's what he'd done. As I'm rounding the corner to my house, I get a call that he's still at the station. He's been waiting for like 1/2 an hour because "I made it clear that we were to meet." I retort with his making it clear that he was going home and we fume at each other via cell phone, for all to see.

When I got the mail and came inside, I notice something that is obviously a wedding invitation from Craig's cousin. I yelled something like "Well I Know I'm never getting married because my boyfriend and I hate each other because he's an insensitive asshole!" Of course the only one to hear it (besides possibly my neighbors) was the cat, and he gave me a look like "Lady, I'm just trying to sleep in this box." Then I cried on my bed for a while.

When Craig came home, we ate some lunch and watched a movie, then played computer Jeopardy. All is well now, but like I said, we are a bad combo when we are both in less than tip top shape.

"I didn't do it for you"

I dyed my hair this weekend. (Shock) It looks really super cool - orange on top with red tips, and I left some blond in there to let them fade together. Much better than the boring old blond I had.

But my coworkers don't seem to think so. One guy thought it was hilarious to call me "blondie" and when I told him I was sick of it, he said "great, now I can call you 'big red!'" Neat. When New Boss saw it, she stopped what she was doing and said "oh - you changed your hair." I said, half-jokingly, "I told you I do it all the time. You should be used to it by now." And really she should - she's been here like 3 months? How many colors have I had in that time? But she frowned at me and went back to her seat. Good. I don't have to talk to her then.

My friend's favorite quote of mine occurred when we were in college. Some random person told me they liked my hair, and I said in true punk rock fashion, "I didn't do it for you." I have no actual memory of this, but my friend describes it in vivid detail. Plus it sounds like something I would say if someone didn't catch me in the right mood. But now I think of that whenever, for example, New Boss frowns at my beautiful fire hair.

Lucky for me, it's not up to New Boss what color my hair is for the next 44 regular / 30 working days. Craig advised that I keep my hair blond just until I get a new job, so that my potential interviewers don't get scared off. I made the following points:

1. It shows off my creativity, which can be very useful in the jobs I'm looking at.
2. I got hired at the Unnamed Drug Store with rainbow hair - it was like it is now, but pink, red, orange, and yellow. That was fun. But I got hired and the store manager simply said "just don't do that again." And I didn't.
3. I don't want to work at a place that won't let me color my hair. Besides the fact that I love doing it, they would probably have other policies I wouldn't like.

Craig came back with just one point:

People judge on your appearance, even if they don't mean to. An interview is a first impression. Wow them with your resume and personality, then let them see your hair.

Very good advice, especially since he lived through tons of fruitless interviews with long hair. When he cut his hair, he got 3 job offers that week. Yeah.

So I still dyed, but I went with orange because frankly, it's Manic Panic and it sucks. It won't be this color in a week, even with proper care. If for some reason I get an interview before my trip (and birthday!) on Thursday, I can wash my hair a few times. (BTW- this is why I always use Punky Color!)

Here are 2 pictures I took with my phone. I look kind of evil, so I'll take a better one when I get home.

don't breed

Is it wrong to cry when you find out that someone you hate has children? I mean cry with anger and disgust, not sadness. Well maybe a little sadness. But it's common enough for one repulsive person to find another repulsive person to so whatever it is they do behind closed doors (thus violating all laws of repulsion). But to find out that they bred? They actually created another repulsive person? Why?

Maybe the child is not as bad as the parent. But they are still considered tainted goods, just because they are associated with that person you revile. It's a damn shame to get news like this.

taxicab confessions

Everyone knows that cabbies are what you might call "scary" drivers. They need to pick up as many fares as possible so that they can make enough dough to pay the rent on the cab they are driving. I rarely take cabs. From the airport to home, yes. But generally not around town. I'm fine with the subway, even though it can take an exceedingly long time in the middle of the night on weekends.

But cabbies can also be jerks. They perpetuate it by not ever going to Brooklyn because they assume nobody in B-town wants a cab. But we Brooklynites never take cabs because they refuse to go where we need to go. The airport cabs will do it, grudgingly, but they have no choice. Vicious cycle it is.

Whenever we are coming from the airport, we always print out directions to our house. It's easier then trying to tell them, and it ensures that they can't take a longer route for no reason other than to get our money. Last time we came home from the airport, we gave the cabbie the directions like normal. We were sharing a cab with someone, and he was just visiting - not too familiar with the 'hood. The cabbie didn't like our directions and so told the other guy (while they were outside packing the trunk) that has was going to take a different route. That guy didn't know better, so he agreed.

After a while, Craig asked the cabbie "Why are we in Queens?" which is expressly not the way to our house. The cabbie basically explained, in not so many words, that we were going completely up and around the area, so as to charge us way more money and take an extra long time to get home. It was too late to go the right way, so we were stuck.* The other guy realized why we had given directions and felt really bad. So when we got to our house, the other guy would only take $20 from us for our share, because that's how much it should've cost had Cabbie not decided to take us on a tour of the Outer Boroughs. So that was ok, but it was still really late when we walked inside.

Then this weekend, we were returning from BAM watching the Joe Strummer movie I already mentioned in the last post. It was after 1:30am because the movie started at 11:30. We didn't feel like taking a train home, and because Craig's a big shot law-talking guy now, we voted for a cab home. One stopped, we got in, and we told him where to go. As we approached our house (really it was just up the same street a coupla miles) there was more and more grumbling from the cabbie. The grumbling turned to flat out bitching. "This is Bed-Stuy, isn't it? If I had known you were going to Bed-Stuy, I never would have stopped. I'd rather go to the city." And so on, basically reinforcing what I said earlier about cabs never coming to Brooklyn. We won't mention that we were in Brooklyn when he picked us up, and it was very likely that we were going to stay in Brooklyn, but I guess he didn't think that far ahead.

If it was up to me, Cabbie would not have gotten any tip at all. Nobody forced him to pick us up. Nobody forced him to already be in Brooklyn. His job is to drive people where they want to go, and we pay him for it. If he's going to complain about it, maybe he should live with the fact that he might get paid less.

But the guilt trip worked on Craig. "We" gave $15 for a cab ride that was $10.60. That's almost a 50% tip. I can see the benefit - use positive reinforcement, and maybe more cabs will start to come to our 'hood because we pay well. I, however, am for negative reinforcement. Be bitchy and unpleasant, and you don't get any extra money. We didn't complain about his stupid cab. He could have at least held off complaining about us until we were out of the car.

And this is the real reason why I prefer the train.



* There was Jimi Hendrix music playing in the cab, making the experience very surreal, and it kind of felt like we were being kidnapped, because I have an overactive imagination like that.

office solicitations

One thing I don't understand about working in an office is the collections process. When someone has a bday, we give money. When someone needs bail money*, we give money. When someone's in the hospital, we give money. I'm sure if people here had going away parties (instead of just disappearing) then we would give money. The other day someone's dad died, so we gave money.

**Callous bitch alert**
I don't know the son. I didn't know the dad that died. He was an old sick man though, so it's not like he was surprising anyone by dying. I still gave a dollar because I'm sure they can use it, but I was the one on the list who gave the least.

I can't give money to every person that works here that has a problem. Nobody's ever given me money for anything. Plus, this is a pretty big company. There are about 100 employees, most of whom are in the shop and I never see or talk to, let alone know their names. Yet I am still expected to give.

I remember a time at a different job when a coworker had all her laundry stolen from the laundromat. And I mean ALL her clothes and her 3 young kids' clothes. They literally only had the clothes on their backs left. I had no problem giving her money then because a) I knew her pretty well and b) it was an emergency. But things at this office have never fallen into that category. I don't know people well, if at all, and it's not ever been an emergency (except maybe that bail one, but I was still brand new so I didn't get any details).

I simply can't afford to help everyone. Sure my boyfriend just got his first paycheck and he makes 4 times more than me after taxes. But besides the fact that that's his money and he knows these people even less than I do, we need that money to pay rent and stuff. Nobody seems to notice, but I'm not exactly rich. I would have no problem (or less problem, anyway) sharing my wealth if I had any wealth to share. As it is, part of my dinner fund was just given to someone that I don't know to help with (I guess) his dad's funeral arrangements. That dollar is not going to do anyone any good except for me. And don't say that "every dollar adds up" because I'm the only one that gave as little as a dollar. They're lucky they didn't get a handful of pennies.

So I'm sorry that that guy's dad died, but I'm also sorry that I have to donate or else be shunned by people I don't know and will only have to "deal with" for 2 more months. What a stupid arrangement.




* This happened my first week here. I didn't give any money because I had no idea who this was and why I should help them get out of jail.