When it rains ...

Yeah. Only, this past week, it's been raining diarrhea.

Okay. I ran all around the place getting the money to feed the never-sated appetite of the giant leech that is Entergy. I almost paid my phone bill, which would have left me with about $4 until I get paid tomorrow (which is, like, all spent), but something told me that I had better hold on to some money, just in case. I went home, cleaned house little, wrote the last post and posted it, took a shower and got ready for work at 3, as I had promised a co-worker I would come in early for him as he had to study for an exam and write a paper for tomorrow. Good thing I did.

Well, when I checked my bike, just prior to laving, about 2, I found that my front tyre was flat, again. Remember, I has just put a new tube in on Monday. I walked my bike over to the Bike Shop (which is, fortunately, in the next block). We pulled the tyre off the wheel and discovered that, somewhere today, I had run over a nice chunk of glass which had embedded itself in the tyre, ruining it, and puncturing the new inner tube. Good thing I had $40 on me, because the parts cost $36, leaving me with $4 until tomorrow. Shit.

Repairs were finished about 2:30. I called my buddy and told him I was leaving the Bike Shop and might possibly be late. I took off for work (as it was, I made it in 14 minutes).

I was on Perkins, coming close to my turn on Balis. I signalled to change lanes to make a left turn and the stupid little bitch behind me did exactly what the stupid bitch behind me on Friday did: she pulled out behind me and cut me off! I know I should be used to this: it happens all the time. I said some unkind things when I reached the intersection, but she was too involved in conversation with her passenger to notice me. I was fucking furious.She wound up in he same lane I had been in. If she had let me change lanes, she never would have had to. She wound up at a fucking red light, anyway.

It was pretty dead at work. I did get one loony. This guy comes in a lot and buys 40s of Old English Malt Liquor. He babbles and talks to himself a lot, and usually stinks. He came in once, earlier, and creeped one of my customers out by babbling suggestive stuff under his breath. He came back later, for another 40, and kept murmuring something that sounded like "kick your ass". I finally said, "Excuse me?" to which he responded by saying:

I ain't talking to you! I'm talking to myself! If I was talking to you, I'd tell you I was talking to you! You'd know it!"

I gave him his change, whereupon he crumpled his receipt and tossed it in the air and screamed: "I get a crazy check! I get a crazy check!"

I told him I thought it was well deserved and that he should leave at once and not come back to the store that night. When he didn't leave, I called for security, and one of my coworkers, who stands about 6'6" and weighs about 300lbs. showed up, so he left. Everything went smoothly after that, until I got home.

Well, I still don't have electricity. This sucks. Tomorrow, after I get paid, I get to pay those fuckers at Entergy another $38, after which maybe, just maybe, I will have power again. I would call the Public Service Commission, but they are scared shitless of Entergy and its suits.

Incidentally, in Canada, the $10 bill is called a "loony", because it has a loon on it.

Of course, after that, my phone bill and rent, which I won't have enough money to pay in full (meaning another $50 late fee), I won't have money for food, or anything else. Life sucks when you're poor.

Fucking Stupid-Ass People

I hate to tell you guys, just past the Darwin Bicentennial, but Natural Selection has ceased to function, at least where human beings are concerned.

Tuesdays are usually slow. Tonight was no different, only it was a parade of freaks. I really appreciate the attention of the bums and panhandlers, many of whom show up simply to use me as a moneychanger. The ones who actually buy something (Heaven Hill Whisky and Thunderbird Red Label feature prominently)also pay in loose change, crumpled piss-smelling singles and pocket lint. The result tonight was that, in loose (unrolled) change, I counted $14.50 in quarters, $7.50 in dimes, $4.20 in nickels and $1.62 in pennies. You could have sewed that in a sack with a Mafia hit and dropped him in the Gulf: he would never have come up for air.

Then, there was the guy with the credit card that wouldn't work, so he left, and I had to void the purchase and then he came back and wanted to use the same card again (we had already run it four times) and I told him no, because if it didn't work the last four times it won't work now, and he got irate and so I said you know there's an ATM in the store and he finally came back with the cash after an hour or so of wrangling over this whole affair.

Then, there was the girl who bought butterscotch schnapps and Bailey's Irish Cream and then dropped it in the parking lot, so he had to come back and get more. For some unexplicable reason, she brought the dripping bag back into the store and set it on the floor, where it leaked Buttery Nipple all over the place, which I had to mop up. Why?

Got up yesterday and, lo, and behold, there was a money order from Bridget for $150. Yay. Only, I found out with the last one, that just about nobody in the universe will cash the bloody thing, especially my store, who issues them. The official policy is that they can only cash them if you have both the money order and the stub, you know: THE STUB THAT THE FUCKING SENDER SAVES FOR HIS RECORDS? So, today, Travis and I went to his bank, Chase, only one of the biggest, richest and most powerful banks in the fucking country, and they won't cash it, even if he has the money to cover it in his account. They won't even accept it as an item for deposit.

So, I try the Money Center at Wal-Mart, and they won't take it. So, I go around to all the check cashing places in the area. I hit three before I find one that handles this particular money order, and they cash it for me, only they charge me $5.88 to do it.

So, finally having got the fucking thing cashed, I go down to the little store and put $60 on my electric bill, which is $20 more than I owe them. I paid the bill in full last week, only to find that they had levied another $38 in charges against me, without telling me. I had to call them to find that out. They have one of those highly convoluted computerised phone systems which is designed primarily to frustrate you, so that you will give up and leave them alone. My electric had better be on by the time I get home, or I will fucking kill somebody. My total bill for last moth was $68; so why the hell do I have to pay them $275 in deposit? God, I hate Entergy!

I believe that Natural Selection no longer works. My solution to this is that those of us victimised by the stupid should band together and develop a plan to supplant Natural Selection. I have one idea: we market a bunch of dangerous things, the kind that are flashy and shiny, the kind that idiots crave. These devices would be inherently dangerous, so that if you didn't read the instructions, there would be a good chance you would either accidentally kill yourself or, failing that, at least sterilise yourself. Then, of course, you include a complex legal disclaimer, absolving your company of all responsibility if the product is not used properly. It will take a little cleverness to design products like this, but it can be done. Of course, the terminally stupid will NOT read the instructions, much less the disclaimer, and the product will be designed specifically so that an idiot will WANT to misuse it. Great idea, huh?

Oh, to dream ...

I Got Scathed

Yeah. Remember how I almost got nailed Mardis Gras by some asshole in a truck who ran me up onto the grass and I felt, like, really lucky because I escaped unscathed? Well, Friday, I got scathed, but good.

I got paid Thursday and paid the balance of my rent and my huge utility bill, which didn't get my power back on. I found out today that this is because Entergy (the fucking shitlords of the universe)tacked an additional $25 "deposit" onto my account, which I now have to come up with, too, bringing my total "deposit" for utilities to a whopping $275. My actual power bill was $67. They are fucking PIRATES!

Got back and met one of my neighbours, who offered to loan me some power via a 100ft extension cable, so I had limited power over the week-end (enough for TV at night and charging my laptop and cell phone). Went to work for 6 on Friday and almost made it. I had just signalled to turn left into the store parking lot when I heard the vehicle that had turned on the street behind me speed up, and then heard tires squeal. I tried to get over as far as I could to the right, but the right rear quarter panel hit me and knocked me over the handlebars. Cleverly, I avoided more serious injury by letting my face take most of the impact.

By the time I could get up to my hands and knees, the silver SUV that whacked me was crossing College Drive. I walked to work, scraped, bruised and bleeding. They called the police and EMS, and I got treated and filled out reports. I didn't get a license plate, so they probably won't find her. It's hard to get a license plate when you are headed over the handlebars, towards the pavement. I worked until 10 and got a ride home. I had to walk to work the next day, but I went to work. I had Sunday off, so I did wash with Travis and Fernando and ate diner with them. I was so stiff and sore Sunday, I almost didn't go. I still hurt. I'm going to have a nice scar above my lip. It will take a long time to heal.

And all for what? Because some cunt in an SUV couldn't wait a few seconds for me to make a turn. I get smashed up, hurt and scarred while she drives away. This isn't my first little mishap: there have been about twenty over the past 40 years or so of riding a bicycle. I cannot state this strongly enough: Baton Rouge is not a bike-friendly city. In fact, a lot of drivers here are openly hostile. A lot of the ones who aren't just don't give a shit: you are just an annoyance, something in the way. You can't possibly catch up to them, so it is okay to leave you, bleeding, lying in the street. You don't drive a car, so you don't matter. Out of all the times I have been hit by cars, only three drivers actually stopped, and one of those, because she saw a police car stop where she left me. When the officer asked her why she left the scene of the accident she replied (and I quote):

"I don't have no cell phone. I was going home to call y'all."

Apparently, this was good enough for him: he didn't even ticket her. She had no insurance. I wound up in a cast for three months, lost both jobs, and got evicted from my apartment. She is still probably out there, driving her fat ass around.

If I sound bitter, I am. I also hurt, and I'm going to have a nasty scar. I hope that bitch burns in hell. I hope they all burn in hell!

Hot Guy Counting Game

Well, by some miracle, my utilities were still connected when I got home last night, so I had a hot meal of leftover chicken, fettuccine Alfredo and green salad. The power was still on when I left, too, so I had a hot shower and fed the cats and was at work for 4. Actually have my laptop with me at work: in case it is slow tonight, I can actually write a blog post from work, even if I can't post it, because there is no accessible signal.

It would be a minor miracle if, somehow, my utilities didn't get cut off until I can pay the bill, which will (with luck) be Tuesday. Bridget, after begging, cajoling and threatening, finally promised to pay me the $430 she owes me next Monday. If the utilities stay on until then, Entergy will get payed and I won't suffer needlessly. Of course, that won't happen: I expect any day now they will get around to cutting me off. Oh, well: a few days without power, after all I have been through is nothing. I can do that standing on my head. Of course, I'd rather not. It gives me headaches.

When I get bored (which is often), I amuse myself by keeping statistics on the hot guys who come in. This being a college town, there are more than a few. I have five categories of hot guys:

1.KOC (Kind of Cute): Meets minimum standards of do-ability. Has potential. Can be quirky.
2.QT (Cutie): Exceeds minimum standards: really easy on the eyes. The kind you remember.
3.MH (Major Hottie): Makes you actually drool. Probably out of your league, but you can still fantasize about him (and probably will). He's probably a conceited little bitch, too.
4.CHK (Chicken): of legal age, but young, like 17-22 and young-looking. Usually a lot of fun. I generally date guys in their twenties, but chicken is good for a snack now and then.
5.C-TEN (Chicken Tender): These range in age from about 12 to 16. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES, SAMPLE CHICKEN TENDERS! They are not to touch, only to be appreciated. Eventually, they will ripen and attain maturity, but leave them alone for now. Of course, working in the Liquor department, I don't see many of these, but that's okay, as long as enough hot boys in the other categories come in.

Obviously, most guys will fit into at least two categories. For example, the count for last night was:

6 KOCs, 3QTs and 1MH, of which 3 were CHK and no C-TENs.

See how easy that was? It's fun, and you can play, too! Just keep count during the day and post me back your numbers, and we'll compare. I shall be posting my final numbers on my daily posts, and we can total them at the end of the month. Don't know about prizes, though.

Anyway, the total so far tonight is: 3QTs who were all CHK. The night is young ...

Will Wonders Never Cease?

I was on my way to work the other day and, lo and behold, the city had actually finished repairs on the bike trail bridge: amazingly, they completed it in just over two weeks. This, coupled with the two spots that actually had tarmac slapped on them on Perkins Rd., leads me to believe that I may have been sucked into the Twilight Zone. Of course, another plausible explanation is that I have a "magic blog", and anything I bitch about it is magically fixed. So, I decided to test this.

Okay: I don't have the money for the utility bill, so I am going to bitch about that and see if, magically, something will happen and my utilities won't get cut off before I can pay the bill. We'll see if that one works. Of course, I expect the electricity to be cut off tomorrow: I was kind of shocked to get home tonight and find it still on. If this works, I'll do the economy next. Reality is that I will probably spend a week without power, which means that I will have to get Travis and Fernando to keep my meager frozen goods. I've got some meat I can give them that won't last if the fridge isn't working. Bridget promised to give me the money she owes me next Monday, and that would pay the bill, with money to spare, if she actually does it that, in itself, would be a miracle.

Weather has been ridiculously warm: bike shorts and t-shirt weather. It has rained a lot, but I have been lucky to mostly dodge it. I would estimate that roughly half of the drivers I see on the road are on their cell phones. Many times, they don't pay attention to me or other traffic: I saw a driver on Perkins Rd. the other day barely miss the rear bumper of a pickup because he was on his cell, and a woman pulled out directly in front of me from a parking lot because she was on hers. What I saw today, as I left for work, really blew me away: a guy was coming down State St., the opposite way that I was heading, on a bicycle. The idiot was riding with one hand and texting with the other. No lie. You take your life in your hands every time you ride a bicycle on Baton Rouge streets: this imbecile must have a death wish. What a boob. I was flummoxed.

So, we'll see if. tomorrow night, when I get home, Entergy has miraculously neglected to cut off my power. It's a nice fantasy to drift off to sleep with, but I rather doubt it. Guess it will be MREs and take-away until I can afford to pay the bill. Oh well. I've had it a lt tougher than this.

Poverty Sucks!

Some good stuff, some bad stuff:

Well, I transferred back from the Grocery side of the store to the liquor side. My former boss offered me as many hours as he could give me (I got 30 this week and I will have 36.5 next week). This is good, but it doesn't get me out of my current predicament. I have almost enough money for rent, and I am sure I can work out a deal with my landlord to pay him the balance next payday, but there is the $286 I owe Entergy, which I don't have, and won't have, until mid-March. I called them this morning to try and get an extension, but they declined, as I knew they would. They don't care. They will get their money, anyway, and, if they cut my services off, they can charge me a re-connect fee and more deposit, and thus increase their profits, the soulless bastards.

So, I am trying to locate a charity that might help me to solve this situation, but it looks grim. I wish I could borrow the money somewhere: I will have plenty of money by mid-March. I should have my tax refunds by then and I will be getting plenty of hours (guaranteed). In addition, there is an election in March that will pay me $250. If only it were March. But, it isn't. So, the grim reality is that I may spend about a month without electric or gas. Oh, well: at least I'm not sleeping out of doors and (shudder!) I do have a stockpile of MREs.

So, about 11:30, I will cruise on down to work, collect my meager earnings, and go pay what I can on my rent. Then, I will go by Social Services and see if I can acquire some contacts which might help me pay my power bill. I am also going to text Bridget and ask for money, since the bitch owes me $430, and has owed it since May, but that is a long shot, because she has really convinced herself that she doesn't owe it to me because I "disrespected" her, which is a total load of crap and an excuse to not pay me. It's also unpleasant, because every time I ask her for my money back, she gets all huffy and sends me nasty text messages, or I get nasty drunken voicemail from her trained chihuahua. But, I'm desperate, and, if I don't prod her about it, I'll never get anything from her at all, ever. Some friend, huh?

OMIGAWD! I was on my way to work the other day, and, lo and behold: the City of Baton Rouge actually fixed something! No kidding, two of the worst spots on Perkins Rd. were actually repaired, after a fashion (see photo above). Of course, all they did was throw some tarmac on the problem and whack it with a shovel, but it's the first actual attempt at repair I have seen in ages. Now, all they have to do is fix the other hundred or so holes on Perkins Rd., and everything will be hunky-dory.

So, keep a positive attitude: why not? Sure, you're really daft to do it, considering how shitty everything really is, but reality sucks: that's what drugs are for. More's the pity, I can't afford drugs.