Sturm und Drang

Man, I’m really behind on my blog reading. I gotta get busy or I won’t know what people are talking about anymore. Same thing with the forums; these folk are gonna forget who the Hell I am. Just because most of my social interaction happens on the InterWeb doesn’t mean I ain’t busy!*

Last week was somewhat eventful. Firstly, a certain furniture store** declared bankruptcy and threatened to take our money with them. We ordered chairs weeks ago, the chairs were delayed in shipment, we waited more weeks, and then the chairs were sold out from under us to satisfy prior orders. My wife received a telephone call informing her that if she didn’t come to the store to select something else by the end of that business day (the call came at 7:30 p.m. and the store closed at nine!), goombye cash and thanks for shopping your friendly court-protected den o’ thieves. So now in our living room we have a chair we didn’t want (although it is a nice one and looks good in the space), and it’s mate is in a warehouse somewhere waiting to be picked up. The missus was livid of course, but couldn’t bring herself to scream at the store staff, some of whom she said were skittering around as if any second they would have to fling themselves to the floor to evade small arms fire. These people were as blind-sided as the customers and may not even be employed as I type this.

Meanwhile at the dust mines, a memo from on high informed us that we will all have to troop on down to the clinic in a few weeks to be tested for recreational pharmaceuticals. I’m of two minds about this. On the one side I’m somewhat annoyed that I’d even be included in this, as I think my lengthy employment record indicates a degree of focus and function that precludes any dalliance with unlawful substances. On the other side I understand that the Powers That Beat can’t play favorites, plus I get to spend the odd idle moments at work looking for those darting paranoid glances in the eyes of my fellow laborers (Excuse me, I didn’t invent schadenfreude; it’s a terrible yet natural reaction in the human psyche. The evidence is in our entertainment industry). I hope they’re tolerant of my urination performance anxiety.

Also this last week, a coworker and fellow bicycle commuter had a chance encounter with one of what I like to call the biking dead, those EEG flat-liners who nonetheless are somehow able to drape their synapse-starved limbs over a bicycle and pedal it. This freaking town is full of them. This particular BD, a female of the order, exited a sidewalk via a driveway and entered my friend’s path of travel perpendicularly, whereupon she was T-boned by 230-odd pounds of strapping cyclist and single-speed. Mowed her like grass. He in turn flipped arse over tea-kettle and painfully came to rest on the asphalt as his bike did a pirouette above him and sailed into the middle of the street. These two people actually rose to their respective feet, brushed themselves off, and retrieved their wounded steeds from the roadway. That in itself I find remarkable. Another remarkable thing is that my coworker didn’t pick up the stupid woman’s bicycle and beat her with it. Did I mention that he was due for hernia surgery the next day? I didn’t? Did I say he bought his bike (a Specialized Langster, New York Edition) only two weeks earlier and now has to put in the shop? No? Sometimes confluence is just the suckness.

Then there are the neighbor issues. Oh Boy. I’m not talking about any one neighbor here, by the way, as there are one or two that sometimes read this thing. I just now deleted two paragraphs because my editor (the missus) advised me that I was being a bit too pointed in my criticisms. Fair enough. It’s not my wish to hurt feelings, nor do I want anything left burning outside my front door. Still, I’m sufficiently rankled by recent events to offer this one point to all who may take it unto their bosoms:

Please Be A Parent! Please Do Not Put Me In The Position Of Disciplining Your Children Or Otherwise Guiding Their Conduct (AND Yours) If You Wish To Avoid Embarrassment!

Again, please note that I deleted two whole lengthy paragraphs because I do truly wish to avoid bruised egos and open conflict. If you were hoping for a “not on my porch, so not my business” approach, however, you’ll be disappointed. I mind other people’s business only when they won’t do it themselves. Then you’ll mind that I mind.

I must close this now, and go do something that I hope doesn’t get me sent home from work tomorrow. I think I’m safe, as my immediate superior has tomorrow off and the department will consist of me and one other guy. Whatcha gonna do? Huh? Huh? Bring it!


* I agree, it’s rather sad.

** Lawsuits are also the suckness.


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