In the Bonds and Out in the City

2011 has been an awesome so far and I know that it has just begun. So, I don't want to jinx it but I'm going to say it anyways. The last couple of weekends have been crazy amazing and filled with awesome people and fun times to the max! Yes, there's been some drama but that's life and it's overall been good, real good. So this past weekend we celebrated a milestone, ZN's 20th year anniversary. That means DG reunion! Whoop whoop! Fargher came from Cali, Tidmore from the Big Apple and Smiles from the PCB. Even locals that don't come out made an appearance. Look out, the girls are back in town! We had a blast and I have the pictures to prove it. (Be afraid girls, be very afraid.)

Let me also mention that amongst us were several pregnant women and dinner was a buffet. That being said there was almost a brawl over a misunderstanding of cannoli, one was trying to dance her baby out and the other was reminiscing about how she tried to convince a student to give her her baby if she didn't want it.

Later in the evening, Fargher gave in and decided to try and work out the crick in Tiff's neck. This caused some rubbernecking not because it was odd but because sounds were being made like that off of a homemade porno. Names were being screamed and there were many "oooooohs" and "ahhhhhhhs" and "right theres" and "don't stops." And that's how the toot it and boot it convo happened!

Randomness From A West Coast Cutie

F: "Toot it and boot it, you know what that is, right?"

Everyone else: "Huh?"

F: "You know, hump it and dump it? F$@! and chuck"

Everyone else: "Umm, no"

F: "It's a song, but more than a song. It's my life motto!"

Oh, I forgot about the meat! After the massage and before the toot it and boot it, Fargher picked up a piece of cubed meat. She held it in her hand and looked Mayree square in the face. She then asked her "You want some meat" and opened her hand to reveal the cube. So gross and so funny all at the same time!

Last call means let's move this party elsewhere. So at last call we decided to move on. A request had been made earlier in the evening for fruitloops. I made the call in the car and they were chilled and waiting for us upon arrival. Little to no shenanigans were had this weekend just fun times to be remembered. Shenanigans were last weekend but that's a whole other story!

A Common Tread

Since totaling P. Soph, I have been on a car hunt for the past several weeks. For those who know me, I’ve been on a man hunt all of my life and and more recently and specifically a husband hunt. Tonight the light bulb came on bright and I realized that there is a common thread in my taste for cars and men. Wait for it. Wait. Boom! High maintenance and unreliable but they look oh so good! In both aspects I’m always advised against what I want for those reasons (maybe not exactly in those words but it all boils down to about the same thing.) After this wonderful epiphany, I am left thinking about my options. Car options specifically because that is priority right now. And did I mention I’m trying to stay within a very limited budget? Yes, you heard right. That’s what I said. Me, on a budget! Absurd, right? It’s difficult but I’m going to do it; I’ve got my mind set and that’s all. I still want to believe that on the topic of both man and car there is something that is attractive, dependable and reasonably maintainable close to home and within what I am willing to give. So the search continues... Wish me luck ‘cause I’m gonna need all I can get!

It's so hard not to stare but I don't wanna be gang banged...

So here I am in the dirty dirty gulf. Literally people, I'm in Gulfport, Mississippi. I'm here for training. Yay! I'm no longer unemployed! (insert happy dance) Now, take away the happy dance and focus on where I just said that I am. Okay, back to reality. After training for 12 hours today I decided that I needed a margarita and I wanted some Mexican food for dinner. I mentally prepare myself to do this all alone and get to the restaurant only to realize that they close in about 10 minutes. I get in my car and leave because surely there's another Mexican restaurant somewhere close. Nope. Nothing besides 2 Taco Bells. So I U-turned it for the 2nd time in like 30 minutes and decided on an Applebee's.

1. I knew there was a bar

2. I knew they would still be serving food and

3. Because it happens to be close to my hotel.

So I get out of the car and get majorly stared down by some sketch looking white guy talking on his cell phone outside. I go in and sit at the bar with open seats on both sides of me. On my right is an average looking white guy with a weird mole thing on his face reminding me a little of Jeff, not old Jeff, the young really bad set-up one. And to my left 4 or 5 big dudes that resembled part of any football team's defensive line. As I sat down I heard all kinds of noises and comments coming from the guys to my left and I told myself that they were talking about stuff on the menu. Then sketch from outside comes in and sits to my left between me and 'the team.' Sketch starts talking to 'the team' and I decipher that he is a cross between nascar and a slim shady wannabe. His convo consists of words like boi and aight and wit and da. For real I heard him say, "Mān (sounds like: main) this be off da chains" and he was talking to 'the team' about Kobe Bryant and LeBron James and some beef they've got going on. Mole guy leaves. I order a drink. The bartender must know that I am totally out of place and brings me a shaker full of goodness! Slim Nascar Shady leaves. I happened to look to my left and swear that dude is smiling at me with a glow in the dark grill! I wanted so bad to look again but thought to myself, "Don't do it! Straight ahead, just look straight ahead." It was so hard not to stare, but at the same time I didn't wanna get gang banged! So I did what any girl in her right mind would do...

I finished off my shaker of goodness, paid my tab and high-tailed it out of there!

GBT 2010: The Tradition Continues

What is equivalent to SEC football? A tradition as sacredly honored as Auburn and Alabama tradition? That’s right, there’s just one thing: our yearly GIRLS’ BEACH TRIP!!! To some, it’s just fun but to most it’s a week of sanity, laziness, lushiness and great company. For any who have had the chance to join us on our yearly adventure, you know exactly what I’m talking about. And for those who have never been initiated into our tradition you can only hope to be invited in the future. (Depending on the economy we may start accepting bribes! lol)

I, alone, am a force to be reckoned with, so just imagine me with some of my nearest and dearest! All year long, we look forward to this one week . It’s our grown-up Christmas. I say this because as a child you look forward to Christmas and as you get older you still enjoy the holiday but you realize that Christmas has strings. It’s not just Santa Claus and being good all year-or at least just from Thanksgiving on. It becomes about gift giving and excessive spending and parties and stuff that you never had to worry about as a kid. So, our beach trip is like Christmas. Strings are cut. Husbands and boyfriends are left behind. Just a week of pure enjoyment. You want Swiss Cake Rolls and beer for breakfast, you got it! Wanna snack all day without counting calories, consider it done! Get a massage, shop, and watch a Jersey Shore marathon? That’s what we’re here for! From trashing dresses and dancing like Beyonce on the beach to stealing, I mean borrowing, bicycles for photo shoots. We do what we want!

This year the trip was a little different than most because our trip coincided with another trip planned from some Birmingham local boys. So for one day and one day only our girls’ trip was invaded by two dingleberries. (I know what dingleberries are but I use the term out of context because I like it and think that it’s fun to say. So to me it’s a term of endearment.) The boys came and played for the day. There were drinks, shenanigans on a small scale and we even got in the ocean!

**Side note: We are pool girls! I think that this was the first year that any of us have gotten in the ocean more than ankle deep.

cont...Like I said, drinks: self explanatory; shenanigans on a small scale: oh, yes! Stories to be told. Alcohol, game and a pole...an unexpected combination?

Got you feeling loose...Got you in the zone Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol Blame it on the a a a a a a alcohol. That being said (NG)² was getting her flirt on (slurring about the Russians!) and stubbed her toe on a structural pole. A more expected version of the unexpected combination. There was also a mini version of a one handed bra unclasping competition, but that was random and is a little fuzzy. And then, there was the ocean. MB and I do not like getting in the lake and do not do it unless totally necessary. We have similar feelings towards the ocean. But, when your day starts off with alternating Fruit Loop and Jello shots the day becomes an unexpected blur of things you might not do sober. Thus the ocean. We got in and stayed in for quite awhile and admittedly had a fun time. We were in the company of Tiff and the boys and had some interesting conversations about sharks, my epic fail on match making, politics and the fact that Lukie-doo was trying to snorkel with the straw from one of his many margaritas.

...Now put your hands up Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,oh Thats, right! Beyonce’s Single Ladies got danced on the beach in broad daylight. Two white girls just shakin’ what their mamas gave ‘em! This was after a karaoke performance of Aretha’s A Natural Women performed by our own “30 year old (kind of, but not really) virgin,” (NG)². All of this singing and dancing attracted quite a crowd. One man in particular, was a neighboring beach squatter who took very kindly to us. He was a the kind of major creeper that if you saw him at night you might conclude that he could quite possibly be homeless. This assessment could also be made in the daylight. He was leathered and rough looking and trying to bum cigarettes and beer from us. He scooted closer and continued to try and have conversation with us. He finally got the message and left. Shortly after, we too packed up and went in to get ready for year two of “Trash the Dress.”

Girls’ Beach Trip began the summer of ’07. Since then, there have been some changes, like location, the participants and marital statuses. The last of these things spawned its own little tradition. Stuff happens and “happily ever after” doesn’t always work out like Disney taught us to believe. But as adults you have to accept these kinds of things and move on. Last year was the first year that a wedding dress was trashed. It belonged to a divorcée who had just a week prior met her soon to be next husband. The old dress was trashed and less than a year later she was in a new dress. This year, just weeks after the final divorce decree, the dress of another was trashed. This ceremony of sorts, is liberating and auspicious to moving forward and doing it in a way that is fun and memorable with people who you know will always stand next to you when you’re wearing a white dress no matter what the circumstance.

Verde’s Clues also began this year in the car on the way to the beach. MB and I received a joint gift of a green notebook and a sparkly glittery pen. The purpose was to keep track of all of the crazy things that often come out of our mouths during our girl trip adventures. Let it be known that during this time sensors and filters do not exist. So with a newly wed, a ‘trying to get pregnant on purpose,’ a nympho, a virgin and two might-as-well-be virgins...Verde’s Got Some Sexually Frustrated Clues!

• I just suck and swallow.
• The door does close, just in case...
• ...the touch of wood
• Oh, my! I only have on my pj’s and no bra.
• That’s okay all you have to do is pump.
• I wanna make a transaction; swap some funds...
• Your penis isn’t on the radar either...she can’t see it coming.
• I don’t just go one way, I go multiple ways.
• This won’t come/cum (hmm) in my mouth.
• JMJ 2010: Jesus Mayree and Jello
• That spoon would not lead to a fork.
• I can’t swallow those big ones.
• I’m drunk. I think I like those hornsberry things.
• Are you’re panties wet? Oh dear, It’s all wet!
• Throw that shit over a bush.
• It’s so cool and smooth. I just wanna waller all over you.
• I wanna get on and ride it.
• I can still taste it in my mouth!
• It’s different in your mouth. It’s thick and slimy.

So there you go! Sometimes Verde's Clues could not be located. And to think that those were just things that we remembered to write down. It was, as always, a very memorable-of what we actually remember-epic adventure! Until next year...

The Signs

Her reputation is very well known throughout the community and is synonymous for being ‘one of those’ difficult kind of women. I, being from a different community, outside of The Village had no idea, but was very quick to find out. I was referred to her by a friend who’s intentions were golden because she too was from outside The Village and did not know the extent of Queen-stein’s way.

An interview was scheduled and I met with the P & Q-stein. The interview went well and was full of fluff and empty promises for a promising future that would never come. Towards the end of our first meeting Penis-stein gave me some “fatherly advise” about my resume. It was a modern format where your contact information is located at the bottom of the page. He did not pay attention to that detail and advised that contact information should be somewhere on the resume. I then informed him that it was and that he had just overlooked it.

The second interview was different and very nonconventional. I was asked to manually write a merchandise ticket, a sales ticket and to gift wrap a package. Now, is it just me or can most people old enough to drive do these things? I am a college educated adult who has been in the workforce for almost a decade and this was my second interview. The job at hand solely depended on my handwriting and gift wrapping skills! At the end of this session I was asked in the office and offered a position and a salary. I accepted. I can only say in my defense that I was blinded at the time by the sweetness of a 9:30 to 6 workday and rarely a Sunday. Anyone ever working in retail knows that this is a very desirable schedule. I’ve even heard it referred to as Retail Heaven.

In the beginning, I thought it was odd that everyone was so concerned about how my day was and how I liked my job. It may too have been the way that they asked in such an inquisitive way. For several days, I just thought that everyone was being so kind and welcoming. In hindsight I realize that these were red flags and I being so naive missed every single one of them!

At first, it was all nice and way too easy. You’ve heard the phrase “Too good to be true.” That’s exactly what it was. I went from being treated to lunches at least once a month and small treats here and there to being reprimanded for using expensive ribbon on a sale package. Expensive being defined as ribbon that she purchased versus ribbon that was provided to her from the store that we co-habited within.

There was one instance in particular that I consider the beginning of the end. I had only been working for a few months and it was getting close to holiday time. She was in her office and I was helping a customer with some sale merchandise. The customer requested that the purchase be gift wrapped so after ringing the sale I began wrapping. She came out of her office and saw the customer that I was helping and saw that I was wrapping a gift. She looked at the ticket to see what I had sold as I was finishing the bow. I gave the customer their package, thanked them for coming in and wished them a happy holiday. As they exited the store she turned, looked at me and snapped,

“I know them. That was sale. You used the wrong paper and too much ribbon and you gave them a sticker. Sale items should be wrapped in store paper not my paper and store ribbon not my ribbon. And they should not get a my sticker on their package! You shouldn’t wrap sale items. Don’t waste your time wrapping sale items. They can wrap it themselves. They already got a discount on it.”

Shocked and feeling like the wind had been knocked out of me, I just stood there searching for words and reason for this ridiculousness. Finally I was able to muster up an okay all the while thinking this woman is going absolutely nuts over 1/8 of a piece of tissue paper, a foot and a half of ribbon and a sticker! Are you kidding me? Shut the front door! Only after reiterating this several times to make sure that I fully understood did she then go back into her office.

About ten minutes later I greeted another customer who was also looking at the sale merchandise. She made a purchase and requested that I gift wrap the item. Still raw from just being reamed about this I politely said no and explained that I could only wrap regular priced merchandise. She said that was fine, she understood, took her package and left. Queen-stein comes out of her office and inquires about the sale. She looks at the ticket and asks if I gift wrapped the package. I answered, “No, she asked and I told her the policy.” She then tells me that I should have wrapped the package. She knows her a long time and I should always wrap her package whether it is sale or not because she likes that customer.

At this time, the appointed Store Manager, Bridget, steps up to bat for me. She has witnessed both of my reprimands and explains to Queen-stein that I am new and I was just doing as I was told. She also said that the rules that are made should apply to everyone so that there is no confusion. As Bridget is talking, Queen-stein is snarling and biting her tongue and it looked as though her head were going to detach from her body and explode into a neighboring galaxy. About half way through Bridget’s plea for me, she got cut off and reprimanded herself for arguing about the rules. She was then confronted as to whether she felt ill because she had an attitude and obviously didn’t want to be at work. Then she was told to go home. She retaliated saying that she felt fine and there was no reason to go home. She had just wanted to clarify the rules. She was not ill and she would work until the end of the day. Go Bridget!

Shortly after this confrontation, Bridget and I were summoned by Queen-stein and told that we could gift wrap using our own discretion. But at the same time being told to only use the ‘good’ ribbon and paper for regular merchandise only, unless it was a finer piece of sale merchandise. These packages were allowed a sticker too. Lucky them.

That day was the first of many days that her true colors came out and were visible through her wardrobe of black. And on several occasions after this, the rules of gift wrap were amended. The gift wrap rule and all of the rules, I quickly learned, could be changed at the drop of dime. I attribute this particular incident as the one where the hatred of my job truly began to take root.

New Blogs

Hey guys! Thank you for following my blog! I hope that you enjoy sharing my experiences as much as I enjoyed having them. I know that I haven't blogged in awhile but I want to try something new. My work situation is less than ideal and my employers totally stress me out over nothing. So as a release, some of my blogs will now be work related. I am changing names so that people will remain somewhat anonymous. I plan to still write about my personal social experiences and hope that you will enjoy some of my work experiences too. I promise they are quite entertaining!

Tasha Pace

In all of my retail experience never have I met anyone that can hold a flame to Tasha Pace. This woman is one-of-a-kind and thank goodness for that! She was in her late 70’s when I first met her but you would never know it except for the fact that she told everyone proudly exactly how old she was or was about to be. She was loud and proud and expressed her opinion whether it was wanted or not. Her motto was that when you get to a certain age you can say whatever you want and she did just that! She never said what that age was but it was implied that she had reached it.

One of my first encounters with Tasha was right after I had begun working in a small family owned high end retail store. She was like a fixture in the store, having worked there for over 30 years. I had heard stories and been warned but had yet to find out for myself. About two weeks in to my new job, I was having lunch in the break room. There was a good crowd in there of about 6 people one of which was Tasha. She was critiquing my lunch and inquiring why I was not eating meat. I told her that I was a vegetarian and hadn’t eaten meat in over ten years. Her response was “Nah! You’re not a vegetarian. All the vegetarians I know are stick thin and have good skin!” Remember again that she is loud and proud. Everyone went quiet, mouths dropped and there was a moment of silence. Then she says, “I mean you do have pretty skin but you’re Asian so it’s in your genes.” More silence. I began laughing. I mean, what else could I do? People around me started immediately apologizing for her and trying to save face. And the more that they tried the more adamant she was about defending herself and saying that she was just speaking from her own experience.

Over time, you learn to love Tasha. She means well...most of the time. And sometimes she just doesn’t think that there is anything wrong with what she says. She tells people all the time that they should wear makeup and fix themselves up. Or she gives them unwanted advise about how they should wear their hair or what they can do to make themselves look better. One of the things that she is constantly preaching is to young married women about how to make their marriage work.

“Don’t you ever say no! Don’t deny your man of sex. When he wants it, give it to him. That’s why I’ve been happily married for so many years! That’s the key. If you’re not giving it to him, you better believe he’s gonna get it from someone else! You gotta keep your man happy. I mean really! They’ve got needs and it’s your duty to take care of them”

And, oh dear, when the shocking story of Tiger Woods and his numerous affairs was released and making headlines she blamed his wife for his adulterous behavior. She said, “See I tell you girls all the time, you gotta keep your man happy. I bet she denied him and he went somewhere else.”

I did not and still do not agree with her opinions on this matter so I rebutted. I simply stated that in your wedding vows you do not vow to have sex whenever your spouse wants however you do vow to be faithful until death do you part. Then asked if she though his wife was still in the wrong. That was pretty much the end of that conversation.

Every night Tasha has a scotch and water before bed. Sometimes she gets up in the middle of the night to watch soft porn on Cinemax and occasionally she goes the extra mile and orders some Pay Per View. One day she was telling the story about how she couldn’t sleep and had gotten up to watch some television. After some channel flipping she stopped on an awards show. It happened to be an awards show for porn. She proceeded to tell everyone about some of the categories in which people were nominated. That was way too much information that she was sharing. Oh, let me also mention that about 90% of these conversations took place in the break room while people were trying to eat. I am shocked that more people didn’t choke while eating their lunch. Some people just lost their appetites and ended up not eating at all.

I’ve heard stories about her whole life; from her first experience using a tampon to her discovery of the martini. And still to this day she’ll tell you, “Martinis make me horny!” She loves life and life loves her. And again, thank goodness there’s only one Tasha Pace.