Gout, Groans and Gripes

I suffer, albeit infrequently, from gout. Gout is a form of arthritis characterised by rapid, painful swelling of joints, particularly in the extremities. It is far more common among men than women, but can affect women after menopause. My particular form is inherited (usually maternally) and results in high uric acid levels. I usually don't have much of a problem with gout, so long as I avoid certain foods, such as: large amounts of red meat and organ meat, any seafood that turns pink when you cook it, too much alcohol or (particularly true) caffeine.

I haven't had an attack of gout in a long time, and (I admit) I have indulged in much too much caffeine lately, which frequently triggers an attack. I have had way too many energy drinks lately, and colas (non-decaffeinated)and, about a week ago, I woke up and my right elbow felt like red-hot needles had been shoved into it. It was red and swollen (see above picture: this is today, much better). The whole week, it hurt like hell. Gout starts with a sharp, burning pain that devolves into a dull ache that becomes a stabbing pain every time you flex the joint. Finally, the entire area itches like crazy, and when you scratch it, it gets worse. That is gout. I'm stuck with it. I could take allopurinol, but that's another expense.

So, of course, this week, every drunk, lunatic and generally annoying person seemed to come in. Maybe the same number came in and I noticed it more, because I was so miserable:

- There was the drunk who comes in all day long, jabbering on his cell whilst trying (and failing twice)to pay for his purchases using his debit card. Even with the assistance of myself and a customer (there was a line) he only succeeded on the third try. He never stopped jabbering. He came back later, still drunk, and insisted that I give him the balance on his card (which, of course, I can't do). He came back later and tried to make a purchase (which I had to void), but his money had run out.

- There was the guy who was going to buy a bottle of Grey Goose, but couldn't make up his mind, so he went to ask his wife about it, so I had to void it off, which required calling a manager, and then came back and wanted it, after all.

- There was the stupid cow who set a half-dozen items on the counter and then discovered that she had nowhere near enough money (she was buying for other people), which required me to void it off (see above). After she left, I remarked, "What have we learned here? When you send someone out for party supplies, send the one who can count!" That got a laugh from the line behind her.

- There was the guy with the cane who always smells like a septic tank (no kidding), and who pays me in loose change for Thunderbird Red. Most of the coins look like they have been corroding in a sewer, and his bills always smell like a sewer, too. I have to hold my breath when I wait on him.

- There was the bum who buys one can of Steel Reserve Malt Liquor at a time, drinks them on the bench in front of the store, and comes back for another one, until he is incoherent. It is illegal to drink on the premises, and I usually tell him to leave, but I was so miserable,
I really didn't care, so I left him alone.

- There was the weird little guy who mumbles to himself and once screamed, "I get a crazy check!" at me. He is so unbelievably rude that, this past week, I actually told him that he had better acquire some manners if he wanted to keep buying his booze from me.

Well, the gout is getting better and so is my temper. This week-end was gorgeous, unlike last week. There are more monsoons on the way. Dad's memorial service is on Friday. I still have stuff at the storage place. Life is a bitch, as usual.

For information on gout, go to http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/gout/DS0090.

Work is Insane

At work, I spend time between the grocery side and the liquor side (which is separate). This week, I have spent most of my time on the liquor side of the store, which is quite different from the main store because of the nature of the, ahem, clientele. On the liquor side, for example, there is a much higher concentration of drunks, bums and thieves. It's true. At least 10% of the customers who come into the liquor side of the store are impaired in at least one sense of the word, and the percentage rises as the night goes on. I usually wind up closing, so I get to see it all.

The other night, I was working with another guy, a young black guy who is a student at LSU. We get along pretty well when we work together, and we don't usually have a lot of trouble, because a lot of the skanks that inhabit the area won't come in if we are working. So, it's like, mid-afternoon when we get the first indication that things might be interesting, wen one our co-workers, who was outside having a smoke, comes in to inform us that one of the locals walked up while he was smoking and peed on the soft drink machine. Of course, we all know this guy: I have turned him away because he was too incoherent to function. Also, another employee, a month or so ago, went into the store's public rest room and caught him in there, wanking. So, he was told not to come back, but he was so fucked up he probably won't remember so he'll be back eventually.

So, everything is going smoothly, and I am waiting on customers, when these two guys come in, each grab two 1.75l bottles of liquor, and run out the door. My buddy chases them out while I call for help, but they jump the fence and are gone before anyone can get to them, and, besides, we are not allowed to even try to apprehend them: we can get fired for it. So, we figure, as long as it's kind of slow, I'll stand behind the counter (which is impossibly long and it takes you too long to get around) and he'll just stand at the door and watch out.

Sure enough, he's not standing there for half an hour, when a customer comes up o the counter and buys cheap beer, and is on his way out the door when D. stops him and asks, "You want to give me that bottle you have in your pants?" They guy says, I don't know what you're talking about, but D. just says, "Well, just call the police, then," and he produces a bottle. "All of it," D. says, and out comes another one. So, we tell the guy not to come back, and he leaves, and we are going like, what is wrong with these fucking people? Three thieves inside of an hour! So, for the rest of the night, he stands guard while I ring, unless it gets really busy.

Later on, D. goes off shift, and I m left to close. About an hour later, I hear a commotion outside, and it is Blue, who is one of the smelliest and skankiest of all the skanks, and he is outside bumming money from customers to buy Thunderbird. So, I have to call a manager, and he runs him off, and Blue leaves, with his beat up old shopping cart and the six iron he uses for a cane (which is why some of the employees call him Golf Club Man).

This is pretty much a typical evening in the liquor department, but it is still much quieter than the main store, even if the clientele is, um, different. Of course, it is not all bad: most of our customers are decent people, and I have gotten to know a lot of them quite well. Still, work is insane.

Oh, yeah: the picture of the flock of pelicans has nothing to do with this post at all, except that I didn't really have a pertinent photo and they are pretty. This same flock shows up on the lakes every year and spends a month or so here.