I got off work a couple of hours early yesterday and was looking forward to a quiet Saturday night at the homestead. The place was back to normal after the tsunami hot water heater crisis and the place still has that new carpet smell.
Quiet was on the agenda, in big bold letters. Unfortunately I failed to share said agenda with anyone else. The only consolation I can bask in is that the Worthless Co-Worker is involved in the shattering of my quiet Saturday night plans. That will have to wait a bit to be shared though, she wasn't the first to spoil my agenda, she's just the most entertaining example.
(I have to admit to being a little disturbed at the popularity she's gaining through my blog though. My take on that though is moronic calamities always draw attention. That type of behavior always fascinates though.
and yes, Alicia, I'm going to keep my promise to not use the real name of the Worthless Co-Worker here. The fact that you two share the same name is going to be our little secret. No one will ever know this because I'd never, ever break that sacred bond of trust between us. After today anyway.)
Where was I?
Oh, the shattering of quiet. My phone never stopped ringing.
1st call: Ex-wife called. This is never good. It's not that we don't get along okay, it's just that communication between us involves a problem, or perceived problem, with either the son or daughter. In all fairness she's a great mother, but she's also a great mother who overreacts to everything. I knew which child we'd be discussing before answering the phone.
(Child has had an extremely rough run of bad luck over the last 4-5 months. Nothing I'm going to go into details of, but life hasn't been kind as of late.)
After much hand wringing, cajoling, and hysterics ex-wife elicited a promise that I would call said child to ensure that suicide wasn't in the works. (And no, child isn't suicidal, mother is in full overreaction panic mode.) But I agree that a phone call is warranted to discuss latest life setback with child.
2nd call: That would be me keeping promise to ex-wife. (After all, as was repeatedly stated during first call, said child listens to me better than mother, as per the mother.
Hell, that last sentence even confuses me.
But she's right. Child does listen to me somewhat better. But that doesn't necessarily mean child heeds what I say any better though. She just listens better.)
I put on my magical dad solving problem hat and ascertained child was upset, but definitely not suicidal. Dad solved problem with common sense instructions. Crisis averted and hat removed.
3rd call: Ex-wife again to make sure I called child right away. As is often the case with me, I couldn't help but string her along a little bit here. I told ex-wife that that phone call was in the works but I had a cake that needed frosting first. I think she quit breathing for a full minute on that one. Had we been in the same room, rather than 75 miles apart, my life would have been in peril. I then assured her that no, I don't bake, unless making toast was considered baking, and that the phone call was made, and was a huge success.
4th call: Pretty Vietnamese lady from the mall called. She's somewhat fascinated with me. Sadly for me, that fascination only involves food. Once she found out I was single she determined that I can't possibly be eating right, or often enough, or something. So she cooks, mostly soups, and always sends some home with me. Apparently in my haste to leave work yesterday I had forgotten to stop in where she works to pick up supper. This devastates her. Seriously. So even though I have today and tomorrow off, I'll be running out to the mall to pick up soup later today. I honestly felt bad about forgetting the soup, and she takes this mission, or act of mercy, very seriously. I've never had the heart to tell her that about 50% of what she makes my stomach revolts and refuses to allow entrance. I tell her everything she makes is great. While some of you may frown upon that, you weren't there the first time I told her something she made wasn't something my stomach favored. Life's just easier to bear when pretty Vietnamese lady is happy, trust me.
5th call: Daughter, feigning curiosity if mother put father up to calling her to check up on her. Showed some irritation with this call, since I knew where it was going. Finished this phone call with the certainty child understands, with clarity, that father will brook no more drama this evening between daughter and ex-wife. This call was a success so maybe the ex-wife is right about the child listening to me better than to her.
6th call: Son called. Finally, a voice of reason and sanity. He and his wife had been to a few garage sales. At one, he bought eight cases of brand new golf balls for five dollars. Five. Unbelievably. Cheap. Dollars. And some of them were to be shared with me. He's everything I wanted a son to turn out to be. Conversation did end a bit sadly though. With the addition of this arsenal to his golf bag he wanted to go golfing today with me. Normally this is a no-brainer. Sadly, there's no golfing today for me. Some rat shit bug bit me on the hand last Thursday while we were fishing and my left hand is quite swollen. Swollen to the point I probably can't grip a golf club. We won't even go into details what it's like to take a piss with the preferred "gripping" hand disabled. But it would probably hinder my ability to write my name in a snow bank, if that urge were to hit me.
And finally, the call some of you have been waiting for. Worthless Co-Worker debuts with call number seven of the evening. Naturally this one will be shared with greater detail:
Worthless Co-Worker: I have a problem.
Me: What's new?
Worthless Co-Worker: Can you be serious for a minute?
Me: Now what's wrong?
Worthless Co-Worker: I left my key at home and can't lock the store up.
Me: It's almost 10:00 pm, we close at 9:00 pm. Did you call (store manager)?
Worthless Co-Worker: Yes, and he's really pissed at me.
Me: I'll bet.
Worthless Co-Worker: Can you do me a favor? His wife won't be home until 10:30 and he can't come out here until after then to lock the store. He says I can't go home without locking the store. Can you believe that shit?
Me: Um, yeah, actually I can believe "that shit."
Worthless Co-Worker: Can you come out here and lock the store so I can leave? I don't want to be here until 11:00 pm.
Me: I guess. But in all honesty, I won't get there until after 10:30 either. I've got to get dressed and it takes me about 25 minutes to get there normally.
Worthless Co-Worker: Oh please, will you do this? I don't want to see him tonight, he's really mad.
Me: Whatever, I'll be out.
Worthless Co-Worker: Thank you, thank you....etc.....
8th call: Store Manager......
Store Manager: Did (Worthless Co-Worker) call you?
(See Alicia, I didn't use her name. I put "Worthless Co-Worker" between those two parenthesis. I'm all about honoring my promises.)
Me: Yes she did.
Store Manager: Now I'm really pissed. I told her specifically not to call you. Did she tell you what she did?
Me: Yup. I was just throwing on some clothes to run out there to lock the place up.
Store Manager: No you're not!!
Me: Um, okay.
Store Manager: What did she tell you?
Me: She told me she forgot her key, you were pissed, and she wanted me to come out there so she could go home.
Store Manager: Did she tell you where she called me from?
Me: No, I'm assuming the store though.
Store Manager: You assumed wrong. That silly @#%$&^ called me from her cell phone, from her car, on her way home. This is a termination offense. I told her to get back to the store and wait for me.
Me: Oh man, don't fire her ass.
Store Manager: Are you kidding me? You don't even like her. What the %$#& are you on?
Me: She's great for my blog dude.
Store Manager: Are you serious?
Me: Yup. Just go scare the hell out of her.
Store Manager: I dunno. But you stay home. I'm going in to deal with this.
Me: Okay. I'll call her to let her know she's going to be there for a bit longer then.
Store Manager: Fine.
9th, and final call of the evening.....
Me: Got some bad news for you princess.
Worthless Co-Worker: What?
Me: I can't find my key to the store.
Worthless Co-Worker: You're kidding me, right? You never lose things. You're just trying to make me more miserable aren't you?
Me: Okay, I'm kidding. But.... Store Manager called me right after you did and I'm forbidden to come out there.
Worthless Co-Worker: Are you kidding me?
Worthless Co-Worker: Now that pisses me off. Why would he do that? I'm going to let him know exactly what I think about that when he gets here then.
Me: Good luck with that. Not what I'd recommend, but you do what you think is right. I'm getting off the phone now. I've talked to way too many people tonight on the phone as it is. Buh, bye.
At this point I'm assuming she still has a job. That assumption is based on the fact that I'm writing this blog post and not working today had she been fired. It'll be interesting to hear how this panned out though, that's for sure.