I'm sorry I haven't been posting lately, it's not that I don't love y'all (cause I do, really!), I've just been busy selling toy cars on ebay and trying to do some writing.
Mixed results on both fronts.
I've also been having a lot of difficulty with my depression, anger and impulse control.
My anger control issues are by far the most worrysome, I'm actually triggering migraines working so hard at keeping my anger in check. A couple a week.
I'm a little frightened by some of the very close calls the last couple weeks.
I hope to be posting more soon.
Be patient, I'll try to make it worth the wait.
-The Greeter
Friday, November 30, 2007
Friday, November 9, 2007
The Greeter's Resume! A monument to my Glorious Failure
I've worked most of my life, save for twice where I went on disability, into the vocational rehabilitation problem for the stae of Arizona (glorious failures, VR actually dropped me from the program after several 'job training' gigs ranging from packaging nuts and bolts, to assembling ballpoint pens by hand for .03 each).
I owned 2 businesses, one a vending company, the other a taxi service.
I purchased the vending business from my employer after winning the Arizona Lottery's "Fantasy 5" game, I used the $50,000 prize (just over $36 k after taxes) to buy a 73 Pontiac LeMans I'd been pining for and the vending company. This was 1990.
My boss had been thinking about retiring, she was going blind and had health problems, she found about my lottery win only when I offered her $30,000 cash for her equipment, stock , and contract with the city.
For 2 1/2 years, I ran the business, working about 4 hours a day and netted about $30k a year, my machines were located in the Police and Public Safety building in downtown Phoenix. In the afternoon, I sold used cars at 'Aloha Bill's Garden of Gears'. I was his top salesman 6 months running.
Eventually, the Investigation Bureaus were relocated into the precients, cutting the traffic in the building by almost 90%. I finally sold the business, lock, stock, and barrel, for 1/2 what I paid for it, to a big vending company that had much lower overhead because of thier size.
I can't say I lost money, it supported me for nearly three years, but I'd like to have done better with it.
It was easy work, just stupid easy, and there was no safer place in the city to run a business. I once came in on a Monday morning to find one of my candy/chip machines with the glass front smashed out, the machine empty. The Cash and coin mechanisms were intact and untouched.
Before the repairman arrived to fix it, the inventory was returned along with $350 cash to cover the damage and lost revenue. I never did find out what happened.
I'd kill to have that back.
I've worked many different jobs;
Grocery bagger/stocker
Auto detailer
Cook at KFC ( no, I don't know the secret recipe. I didn't eat chicken for 2 years after this one)
Cesspool digger/pumper (you want to talk about a shit job :lol: )
Asphalt spreader
Vending machine tech. (later owner of the biz)
Car Salesman (I've almost constantly had one or more car or truck for sale since I was 16, I've got one of each for sale as I write this).
Repo Man
screw sorter
shrink wrapper
ballpoint pen builder
Security Guard
Asst. manager of a porn shop (I worked at the slowest store in the chain, it 'only' grossed $20k a month)
Certified Nursing asst.
Taxi driver ( later 'owner/operator', eventually I owned a taxi and livery service)
Taxi dispatcher/office manager
I'd take the worst of these jobs over the one I have now, but that's not what this post is about.
My cab career began by accident.
I used a taxi one night after a night of drinking and poker with a couple buddies, the cabbie was telling me some of his stories, when he told me he cleared $100 or more most nights, I decided I'd try it for myself.
From '93 to '99 I drove 1 or 2 nights a week, in November '98 I went to full time, driving 72 hours a week, within a year I owned 5 cars, by Christmas 2000 I owned 16 cabs outright, 30 drivers paying me, it was fucking awesome.
I saved to buy my first cab, then put a day driver in it, driving myself at night.
The day guy paid me enough to cover my expenses, I saved $50 a night (the amount I would have paid in lease) and everything I earned on Sunday, towards my second cab.
When I got it, I put two drivers in it, I continued to saved $50 a night from my earnings and the night lease from the other cab along with my Sunday earnings Soon I bought 2 more.
I sold cabs as they became too maintenance intensive and bought more, we lived on what I earned driving, rolling all the net profit from the other cabs to expand my fleet.
Until Jan '01 I was doing great, making a pretty good living, expanding my fleet, it was sweet!
Then I fucked it all up, oh I had some help, but I started the avalanche.
In January '01, I sold 2 retired cabs, grabbed my bankroll, and headed for the auction with $17,000 in cash and a goal of paying cash for 3 to 5 new cabs.
Before the auction began, I ran into a guy I knew from my days as a semi professional car salesman, Vic was now an auto wholesaler and fter talking for awhile, we struck a deal.
The next day I selected 10 cars, including 4 Lincoln Townecars and 2 Cadillac Devilles, Vic made some calls, and by sundown they were all financed through 6 different dealers, I'd put $20k down, and had $37,000 in car notes. I wasn't worried, I figured that I'd have them paid off in a year, and my fleet, had gone from 16 to 26 cabs in 24 hours.
It took a couple weeks but soon I had 50 drivers.
I was grossing nearly $80,000 a month!!!!!!! I netted close to $3,000 a month.
Then the bottom dropped out!
I was paying out almost $45k a month to the company I ran my cars with, $12k for Maintenance, $10k a month in car payments , and money for fees, contingency money, blah, blah, blah!
Spring and summer '01 was hard, 6 cars had to be replaced due to wrecks (including 2 of the cars I was financing) 1 0f the 2 Cadillacs was destroyed in an arson fire. In four months I replaced 9 transmissions at nearly $1000 each and 17 seperate a/c systems average about $900 each . Wear and tear caused the retirement of 6 cabs. On Aug 31st, I was hurt pretty badly when a crackhead hit and flipped my pickup, she had no license, driving a borrwed car and my truck was totaled.
September 10th I had 21 cabs, 40 drivers paying every day like clockwork, the worst of the bad seasons behind me, the only lingering problem was due to insurance companies dragging thier feet, I was making payments on three ruined cars.
September 11th, 19 whack jobs led by a militant raghead with bad kidneys, crashed 4 planes and changed all life as we know it, only 4 drivers out of 40 were able to pay. September 12th 1 driver paid.
By Decmber 21st, I was working in a group home, cabs repo'd, sold, signed over to the company to cover outstanding balances, my cash reserves were gone. Driving a rented cab on my days off, I'd come full circle.
In March '03 I bought a cab and started again, the business was different, a lot different, but by October 04 I was running a 5 car independant fleet and owned 3 cars (financed), on the fleet of the largest company in the city, I was a partner in 2 others. December 6, 2004, I was beaten and shot, nearly killed, during a robbery.
Iwas running the company from a hospital bed with 2 cellphones, I immeadiately forfeitted the cabs on the other companies fleet and made my partner in the other two my business partner as well.
He completely fucked me over.
Memorial day weekend in '06 my wife fractured her pelvis, she was out of work 7 months, the laid off in a 'workforce reduction', we were 3 house payments behind by then.
Jan 17th of this year, I closed the doors. We'd lost the house already, we were living in a friend's spare bedroom.
We moved to New Mexico, to my home town.
Now I'm a Wal*Mart greeter, the worst job on earth, especially for someone who'd called his own shots for so long.
Assitant crakwhore is only the 2nd worst job in America, behind greeter.
There is so much more to tell, but this post has taken more than 3 hours, I have to stop when I start crying.
Next time I'll talk about my parents, all in an effort to make you understand what made me this way, and to help me get some closure so I can move forward.
Until next time.
-The Greeter
I owned 2 businesses, one a vending company, the other a taxi service.
I purchased the vending business from my employer after winning the Arizona Lottery's "Fantasy 5" game, I used the $50,000 prize (just over $36 k after taxes) to buy a 73 Pontiac LeMans I'd been pining for and the vending company. This was 1990.
My boss had been thinking about retiring, she was going blind and had health problems, she found about my lottery win only when I offered her $30,000 cash for her equipment, stock , and contract with the city.
For 2 1/2 years, I ran the business, working about 4 hours a day and netted about $30k a year, my machines were located in the Police and Public Safety building in downtown Phoenix. In the afternoon, I sold used cars at 'Aloha Bill's Garden of Gears'. I was his top salesman 6 months running.
Eventually, the Investigation Bureaus were relocated into the precients, cutting the traffic in the building by almost 90%. I finally sold the business, lock, stock, and barrel, for 1/2 what I paid for it, to a big vending company that had much lower overhead because of thier size.
I can't say I lost money, it supported me for nearly three years, but I'd like to have done better with it.
It was easy work, just stupid easy, and there was no safer place in the city to run a business. I once came in on a Monday morning to find one of my candy/chip machines with the glass front smashed out, the machine empty. The Cash and coin mechanisms were intact and untouched.
Before the repairman arrived to fix it, the inventory was returned along with $350 cash to cover the damage and lost revenue. I never did find out what happened.
I'd kill to have that back.
I've worked many different jobs;
Grocery bagger/stocker
Auto detailer
Cook at KFC ( no, I don't know the secret recipe. I didn't eat chicken for 2 years after this one)
Cesspool digger/pumper (you want to talk about a shit job :lol: )
Asphalt spreader
Vending machine tech. (later owner of the biz)
Car Salesman (I've almost constantly had one or more car or truck for sale since I was 16, I've got one of each for sale as I write this).
Repo Man
screw sorter
shrink wrapper
ballpoint pen builder
Security Guard
Asst. manager of a porn shop (I worked at the slowest store in the chain, it 'only' grossed $20k a month)
Certified Nursing asst.
Taxi driver ( later 'owner/operator', eventually I owned a taxi and livery service)
Taxi dispatcher/office manager
I'd take the worst of these jobs over the one I have now, but that's not what this post is about.
My cab career began by accident.
I used a taxi one night after a night of drinking and poker with a couple buddies, the cabbie was telling me some of his stories, when he told me he cleared $100 or more most nights, I decided I'd try it for myself.
From '93 to '99 I drove 1 or 2 nights a week, in November '98 I went to full time, driving 72 hours a week, within a year I owned 5 cars, by Christmas 2000 I owned 16 cabs outright, 30 drivers paying me, it was fucking awesome.
I saved to buy my first cab, then put a day driver in it, driving myself at night.
The day guy paid me enough to cover my expenses, I saved $50 a night (the amount I would have paid in lease) and everything I earned on Sunday, towards my second cab.
When I got it, I put two drivers in it, I continued to saved $50 a night from my earnings and the night lease from the other cab along with my Sunday earnings Soon I bought 2 more.
I sold cabs as they became too maintenance intensive and bought more, we lived on what I earned driving, rolling all the net profit from the other cabs to expand my fleet.
Until Jan '01 I was doing great, making a pretty good living, expanding my fleet, it was sweet!
Then I fucked it all up, oh I had some help, but I started the avalanche.
In January '01, I sold 2 retired cabs, grabbed my bankroll, and headed for the auction with $17,000 in cash and a goal of paying cash for 3 to 5 new cabs.
Before the auction began, I ran into a guy I knew from my days as a semi professional car salesman, Vic was now an auto wholesaler and fter talking for awhile, we struck a deal.
The next day I selected 10 cars, including 4 Lincoln Townecars and 2 Cadillac Devilles, Vic made some calls, and by sundown they were all financed through 6 different dealers, I'd put $20k down, and had $37,000 in car notes. I wasn't worried, I figured that I'd have them paid off in a year, and my fleet, had gone from 16 to 26 cabs in 24 hours.
It took a couple weeks but soon I had 50 drivers.
I was grossing nearly $80,000 a month!!!!!!! I netted close to $3,000 a month.
Then the bottom dropped out!
I was paying out almost $45k a month to the company I ran my cars with, $12k for Maintenance, $10k a month in car payments , and money for fees, contingency money, blah, blah, blah!
Spring and summer '01 was hard, 6 cars had to be replaced due to wrecks (including 2 of the cars I was financing) 1 0f the 2 Cadillacs was destroyed in an arson fire. In four months I replaced 9 transmissions at nearly $1000 each and 17 seperate a/c systems average about $900 each . Wear and tear caused the retirement of 6 cabs. On Aug 31st, I was hurt pretty badly when a crackhead hit and flipped my pickup, she had no license, driving a borrwed car and my truck was totaled.
September 10th I had 21 cabs, 40 drivers paying every day like clockwork, the worst of the bad seasons behind me, the only lingering problem was due to insurance companies dragging thier feet, I was making payments on three ruined cars.
September 11th, 19 whack jobs led by a militant raghead with bad kidneys, crashed 4 planes and changed all life as we know it, only 4 drivers out of 40 were able to pay. September 12th 1 driver paid.
By Decmber 21st, I was working in a group home, cabs repo'd, sold, signed over to the company to cover outstanding balances, my cash reserves were gone. Driving a rented cab on my days off, I'd come full circle.
In March '03 I bought a cab and started again, the business was different, a lot different, but by October 04 I was running a 5 car independant fleet and owned 3 cars (financed), on the fleet of the largest company in the city, I was a partner in 2 others. December 6, 2004, I was beaten and shot, nearly killed, during a robbery.
Iwas running the company from a hospital bed with 2 cellphones, I immeadiately forfeitted the cabs on the other companies fleet and made my partner in the other two my business partner as well.
He completely fucked me over.
Memorial day weekend in '06 my wife fractured her pelvis, she was out of work 7 months, the laid off in a 'workforce reduction', we were 3 house payments behind by then.
Jan 17th of this year, I closed the doors. We'd lost the house already, we were living in a friend's spare bedroom.
We moved to New Mexico, to my home town.
Now I'm a Wal*Mart greeter, the worst job on earth, especially for someone who'd called his own shots for so long.
Assitant crakwhore is only the 2nd worst job in America, behind greeter.
There is so much more to tell, but this post has taken more than 3 hours, I have to stop when I start crying.
Next time I'll talk about my parents, all in an effort to make you understand what made me this way, and to help me get some closure so I can move forward.
Until next time.
-The Greeter
Friday, October 26, 2007
Greeter Meltdown Part Deux!
Why Are there SO MANY FUCKING STUPID PEOPLE ON THIS ROCK!!?
They're EVERYWHERE!
Case in point, two examples from my own family, both occured the day of my mother's funeral service;
It's great that you were a funeral director, I know that's an achievement that took years of hard work.
Even though you fucked it all up because you decided you didn't really NEED to take the medication that regulates your laundry list of mental health issues, what do they know, they're only DOCTORS!
Just because the resulting breakdown (which wound up with you getting caught in a motel room with an eight ball and a 15 year old runaway hooker) resulted in the state of Arkansas placing you on probation for 5 years and now you can only get a job as a backup embalmer.
That's no reason we the family shouldn't be fascinated as you go down the list of ways the funeral home either fucked up or managed to screw us out of more money. I know I appreciated learning things that once learned, can't be unlearned, while mourning the death of my mother.
I'm truly stunned he didn't wind up getting his ass kicked
By the way, this was his sister's funeral! Most of his enlightening commentary was directed toward her grieving husband, sons, and his own elderly parents (both in thier 90s).
Great Aunt Gina
Gina I appreciate you coming to pay your respects , I really do, but why did you feel it was appropriate to show up dressed like you shop the clearence racks at 'Hookers 'R' Us!
And what's with all that fucking makeup!? You look like you came straight from class at Barnum and Bailey's Clown College!
I know you're proud of the untold thousands spent on plastic surgery and fake titties in the early 80s and your deep even tan.
But you seem oblivious to the fact that the work hasn't held up well, or that all that tanning has left your skin the color and texture of saddle leather!
My god, your 71 years old! Isn't it time you learned modesty!?
People, she showed up wearing a backless halter top and painted on black Jordache jeans (do they even still make Jordache? She only lacked those clear heeled stripper shoes to embody what that bleach blonde silicone princess from your local strip club might look like if she miraculously survived coke and alcohol addiction, to become a grandmother!
She looked like a mutation of Britney Spears (when she was still hot) and Tammy Faye Baker after they met up with Jack Nicholsan's Joker. She looked surprised all day! :lol:
The level of denial here is staggering! When God created vanity, Gina may well have been the worst case scenario.
Not surprisingly there was no shortage of raised eyebrows that day!
Tragedy at the 'Tour De WalMart!'
Tuesday, I was in a neighboring town and stopped in at the Wal*Mart, soon afer my arrival I encountered a 12 or 13 year old boy riding a bicycle through the store.
As it was my day off, and since I was in a different store than the one I work, I had no problem with asking him to dismount the bike, before someone got hurt.
I found his reply;'Fuck off Fat Ass!', to be about what I was expecting.
A short time later, He turned into the aisle I was in again, he began taunting me, so as he rode by, I shot out my right arm and clotheslined him!
I Looked down at him as he lay there rubbing the back of his head.
"See dumbass, I told you someone could get hurt."
I laughed and left the store immeadiately.
Sometimes things go as they should.
And finally;
I am picking up some more hours these day due to a co-worker being on maternity leave to have her 3rd child. The due date is her 18th birthday!!
-The Greeter
They're EVERYWHERE!
Case in point, two examples from my own family, both occured the day of my mother's funeral service;
It's great that you were a funeral director, I know that's an achievement that took years of hard work.
Even though you fucked it all up because you decided you didn't really NEED to take the medication that regulates your laundry list of mental health issues, what do they know, they're only DOCTORS!
Just because the resulting breakdown (which wound up with you getting caught in a motel room with an eight ball and a 15 year old runaway hooker) resulted in the state of Arkansas placing you on probation for 5 years and now you can only get a job as a backup embalmer.
That's no reason we the family shouldn't be fascinated as you go down the list of ways the funeral home either fucked up or managed to screw us out of more money. I know I appreciated learning things that once learned, can't be unlearned, while mourning the death of my mother.
I'm truly stunned he didn't wind up getting his ass kicked
By the way, this was his sister's funeral! Most of his enlightening commentary was directed toward her grieving husband, sons, and his own elderly parents (both in thier 90s).
Great Aunt Gina
Gina I appreciate you coming to pay your respects , I really do, but why did you feel it was appropriate to show up dressed like you shop the clearence racks at 'Hookers 'R' Us!
And what's with all that fucking makeup!? You look like you came straight from class at Barnum and Bailey's Clown College!
I know you're proud of the untold thousands spent on plastic surgery and fake titties in the early 80s and your deep even tan.
But you seem oblivious to the fact that the work hasn't held up well, or that all that tanning has left your skin the color and texture of saddle leather!
My god, your 71 years old! Isn't it time you learned modesty!?
People, she showed up wearing a backless halter top and painted on black Jordache jeans (do they even still make Jordache? She only lacked those clear heeled stripper shoes to embody what that bleach blonde silicone princess from your local strip club might look like if she miraculously survived coke and alcohol addiction, to become a grandmother!
She looked like a mutation of Britney Spears (when she was still hot) and Tammy Faye Baker after they met up with Jack Nicholsan's Joker. She looked surprised all day! :lol:
The level of denial here is staggering! When God created vanity, Gina may well have been the worst case scenario.
Not surprisingly there was no shortage of raised eyebrows that day!
Tragedy at the 'Tour De WalMart!'
Tuesday, I was in a neighboring town and stopped in at the Wal*Mart, soon afer my arrival I encountered a 12 or 13 year old boy riding a bicycle through the store.
As it was my day off, and since I was in a different store than the one I work, I had no problem with asking him to dismount the bike, before someone got hurt.
I found his reply;'Fuck off Fat Ass!', to be about what I was expecting.
A short time later, He turned into the aisle I was in again, he began taunting me, so as he rode by, I shot out my right arm and clotheslined him!
I Looked down at him as he lay there rubbing the back of his head.
"See dumbass, I told you someone could get hurt."
I laughed and left the store immeadiately.
Sometimes things go as they should.
And finally;
I am picking up some more hours these day due to a co-worker being on maternity leave to have her 3rd child. The due date is her 18th birthday!!
-The Greeter
Monday, October 22, 2007
The best Funeral ever!
I wrote the other day that my brother's funeral (I'll call him Bob) was the only funeral I've ever enjoyed.
Tonight I'll tell you why, but first a little background.
Names changed to protect my identity, I don't give a shit about the feelings of anyone involved.
Bob and Linda are my half siblings, Charles is my little brother.
At some point I may tell what I know about the very strained relationship between my sister and the rest of the family, for now I'll say that the root of it is her accusing my dad of either molesting or having sex with her. I do not believe this is true! I believe my mother would have killed him in a truly horrible fashion if it were true!
The event that caused Linda's removal from my mom's will occured at my brother's wake.
Anyway, Bob was a pathological liar, as far back as I can remember, he was trying to overcome his shortcomings, he was skinny and short, only 5'7" full grown. He began losing his hair in his teens. He lost 80% of his vision in his right eye in a target shooting accident.
Bob was in short, a manlet!
He was obsessed with the Marine Corp., so much so he collected Marine memoribilia and claimed to be a Marine
His lies were epic, and a family joke in our house.
Bob was according to him, a Marine Sgt., Blinded in his right eye during the attack on the U.S. Embassy in Beiruit in the 70s. He explained away the lack of V. A. benefits by claiming that later, during a flashback, he badly injured a lance corporal and was dishonorably discharged, and dismissed his lack of documentation by saying all his paperwork was destroyed in a house fire.
He presented himself as a wrongfully disgraced combat veteran still loyal to the Corp despite the wrongs done against him.
His first wife took his kids and left because she couldn't deal with the Post Traumatic Stress he suffered from.
Awwww, Poor Bob. :lol:
Evidently he could really sell it though, he charmed the pants off his second wife, Joan, she divorced her husband for him.
My parents, my brother and myself were very aware of Bob's fondness for fabrication, and his obsession with the Marines. After my dad and I saw "The Hunt For Red October", I quipped that the movie was so good that Bob would start telling people he was a S.E.A.L., my dad nearly wrecked the truck he was laughing so hard!
Bob and I didn't have much use for each other, and he and my brother hated each other (Charlie still avoids saying Bob's name, over 7 years after his death), after my dad died in '94, Bob cheated Charlie in a deal over a car, they never spoke again. Bob and Charlie fought often Bob had hisarm broken twice in these fights.
I reached out and tried to re-establish contact with Bob (at mom's request) after not speaking to him for nearly 6 years, but I'd decided to leave him and his step family to themselves after they told me my wife wouldn't be welcomed in thier home (they objected to my wife because of her history and the fact that she is Mexican).
Bob was killed by a drunk driver on May 5, 2000, he died instantly, after warning his wife and stepson to get down and hang on, probably his only noble, selfless act.
The drunk was unhurt, but his wife and one of his children were also killed.
I went to my sister in law, and offered to help with the arrangements, she was too distraught to call the funeral home (but not too broken up to call thier lawyer, within 7 days of his death, she had 4 lawsuits in the works, against the driver, his insurance company, the maker of the drunk's tires, and the Az Dept of Transportation. She won 3 of 4, netting close to a million dollars), I began making calls, until her parents arrived and took over.
She came to me and told me that she didn't want want my wife or my brother at the Memorial service.
I told her that they would attend if they chose to even if it meant driving a car into the chapel, my wife would be there if for no other reason than to support her husband. Charlie and Bob were brothers, she was in no position to deny Charlie the right to attend his own brother's funeral if he chose, and even if it meant a battle, I'd see to it he attended if he wanted to.
My brother Charlie did attend, hugging Joan, kissing her cheek and behaving in a more civil manner than I've ever seen from him, before or since.
Joan was absolutely livid, she glowed with fury. That alone was worth going, but the fun was just beginning.
As our family began arriving, word spread of her attempt to block Charlie from the service. Mom, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. Everyone knew.
My mother arrived, sick from chemo and radiation therapy ( her 4th of 5 battles with cancer).
In Joan's living room, surrounded by her family, mom hugged her, then slapped her hard enough to loosen a filling, then calmly turned and walked out of the house. We followed, except my sister and her dad, who stayed. There were 2 wakes.
Our family was left completely out of the arrangements , my mother wasn't even acknowledged at the service, but that's all right.
The day of the service, our family was seated on one side, Joan's family and friends were seated on the other, along with our sister and her dad.
None of us were given the oppurtunity to speak, nor even acknowledged, many people looked at us as if we had no right to be there.
Bob's ashes were displayed among pieces of USMC and Az. Cardinals memrobilia, including a complete full dress uniform including medals, ribbons,and a name tag. Members of our family began whispering questions back and forth. My grandfather wondered aloud if we hadn't somehow wound up in the wrong memorial service.
One by one they spoke of Bob's love of life, his honor and integrity, his love of the Marine Corp. despite the travesty perpetrated against him. Most of our family looked bewildered, my mom , brother and myself just sat there, trying not to burst out laughing, my wife thought we'd lost our minds (I'd neglected to explain the situation to her, she thought we were evil). Linda, to her credit at least looked slightly embarrassed.
After the service our family adjourned to my uncle's house, it took hours for the laughter to subside as we explained to the family what they'd witnessed, though many were offended deeply watching the memorial service of a man who was almost entirely a figment of Bob's imaginaton.
Joan, Linda and Bob Sr arrived a few hours later, Joan and Bob Sr. were denied access.
Linda and my mother spoke privately, but were soon arguing, as I burst in I heard Linda say the day my dad died was the happiest day of her life. Several people, including my mom and brother had to be restrained, someone called the police. My uncle and I physically removed her from the house and stood guard at the door until Bob Sr. arrived to pick her up. the police arrived about then and Bob Sr. wound up being arrested for driving on a revoked license.
Mom immeadiately disowned Linda, writing her out of the will, and never spoke to her again, though they buried the hatchet in letters just before my mom died.
Jerry Springer didn't have nothin' on us that day!
Tonight I'll tell you why, but first a little background.
Names changed to protect my identity, I don't give a shit about the feelings of anyone involved.
Bob and Linda are my half siblings, Charles is my little brother.
At some point I may tell what I know about the very strained relationship between my sister and the rest of the family, for now I'll say that the root of it is her accusing my dad of either molesting or having sex with her. I do not believe this is true! I believe my mother would have killed him in a truly horrible fashion if it were true!
The event that caused Linda's removal from my mom's will occured at my brother's wake.
Anyway, Bob was a pathological liar, as far back as I can remember, he was trying to overcome his shortcomings, he was skinny and short, only 5'7" full grown. He began losing his hair in his teens. He lost 80% of his vision in his right eye in a target shooting accident.
Bob was in short, a manlet!
He was obsessed with the Marine Corp., so much so he collected Marine memoribilia and claimed to be a Marine
His lies were epic, and a family joke in our house.
Bob was according to him, a Marine Sgt., Blinded in his right eye during the attack on the U.S. Embassy in Beiruit in the 70s. He explained away the lack of V. A. benefits by claiming that later, during a flashback, he badly injured a lance corporal and was dishonorably discharged, and dismissed his lack of documentation by saying all his paperwork was destroyed in a house fire.
He presented himself as a wrongfully disgraced combat veteran still loyal to the Corp despite the wrongs done against him.
His first wife took his kids and left because she couldn't deal with the Post Traumatic Stress he suffered from.
Awwww, Poor Bob. :lol:
Evidently he could really sell it though, he charmed the pants off his second wife, Joan, she divorced her husband for him.
My parents, my brother and myself were very aware of Bob's fondness for fabrication, and his obsession with the Marines. After my dad and I saw "The Hunt For Red October", I quipped that the movie was so good that Bob would start telling people he was a S.E.A.L., my dad nearly wrecked the truck he was laughing so hard!
Bob and I didn't have much use for each other, and he and my brother hated each other (Charlie still avoids saying Bob's name, over 7 years after his death), after my dad died in '94, Bob cheated Charlie in a deal over a car, they never spoke again. Bob and Charlie fought often Bob had hisarm broken twice in these fights.
I reached out and tried to re-establish contact with Bob (at mom's request) after not speaking to him for nearly 6 years, but I'd decided to leave him and his step family to themselves after they told me my wife wouldn't be welcomed in thier home (they objected to my wife because of her history and the fact that she is Mexican).
Bob was killed by a drunk driver on May 5, 2000, he died instantly, after warning his wife and stepson to get down and hang on, probably his only noble, selfless act.
The drunk was unhurt, but his wife and one of his children were also killed.
I went to my sister in law, and offered to help with the arrangements, she was too distraught to call the funeral home (but not too broken up to call thier lawyer, within 7 days of his death, she had 4 lawsuits in the works, against the driver, his insurance company, the maker of the drunk's tires, and the Az Dept of Transportation. She won 3 of 4, netting close to a million dollars), I began making calls, until her parents arrived and took over.
She came to me and told me that she didn't want want my wife or my brother at the Memorial service.
I told her that they would attend if they chose to even if it meant driving a car into the chapel, my wife would be there if for no other reason than to support her husband. Charlie and Bob were brothers, she was in no position to deny Charlie the right to attend his own brother's funeral if he chose, and even if it meant a battle, I'd see to it he attended if he wanted to.
My brother Charlie did attend, hugging Joan, kissing her cheek and behaving in a more civil manner than I've ever seen from him, before or since.
Joan was absolutely livid, she glowed with fury. That alone was worth going, but the fun was just beginning.
As our family began arriving, word spread of her attempt to block Charlie from the service. Mom, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. Everyone knew.
My mother arrived, sick from chemo and radiation therapy ( her 4th of 5 battles with cancer).
In Joan's living room, surrounded by her family, mom hugged her, then slapped her hard enough to loosen a filling, then calmly turned and walked out of the house. We followed, except my sister and her dad, who stayed. There were 2 wakes.
Our family was left completely out of the arrangements , my mother wasn't even acknowledged at the service, but that's all right.
The day of the service, our family was seated on one side, Joan's family and friends were seated on the other, along with our sister and her dad.
None of us were given the oppurtunity to speak, nor even acknowledged, many people looked at us as if we had no right to be there.
Bob's ashes were displayed among pieces of USMC and Az. Cardinals memrobilia, including a complete full dress uniform including medals, ribbons,and a name tag. Members of our family began whispering questions back and forth. My grandfather wondered aloud if we hadn't somehow wound up in the wrong memorial service.
One by one they spoke of Bob's love of life, his honor and integrity, his love of the Marine Corp. despite the travesty perpetrated against him. Most of our family looked bewildered, my mom , brother and myself just sat there, trying not to burst out laughing, my wife thought we'd lost our minds (I'd neglected to explain the situation to her, she thought we were evil). Linda, to her credit at least looked slightly embarrassed.
After the service our family adjourned to my uncle's house, it took hours for the laughter to subside as we explained to the family what they'd witnessed, though many were offended deeply watching the memorial service of a man who was almost entirely a figment of Bob's imaginaton.
Joan, Linda and Bob Sr arrived a few hours later, Joan and Bob Sr. were denied access.
Linda and my mother spoke privately, but were soon arguing, as I burst in I heard Linda say the day my dad died was the happiest day of her life. Several people, including my mom and brother had to be restrained, someone called the police. My uncle and I physically removed her from the house and stood guard at the door until Bob Sr. arrived to pick her up. the police arrived about then and Bob Sr. wound up being arrested for driving on a revoked license.
Mom immeadiately disowned Linda, writing her out of the will, and never spoke to her again, though they buried the hatchet in letters just before my mom died.
Jerry Springer didn't have nothin' on us that day!
Saturday, October 20, 2007
A quick note on courtesy.
While I'm already here, I'd like to say something about courtesy.
I realize that I'm paid to be courteous (I appreciate it Sam, Can I have a raise?), but is it too much too ask that you at least acknowledge my attempt to brighten your day a little? I mean hey, I'm really trying here, and I truly hope you have a nice day, enjoy your shopping experience, etcetera, whatever, blah, blah, blah.
It pisses me off that people completely ignore me, it occasionally causes me to question my existance (I greet, therefore I am, or am I?)
I'm seriously considering the purchase of a quality aluminum softball bat and having it engraved with; "Have a nice day!", complete with smiley face.
Then the first person who pretends I'm not there, I'll calmly, with a look of peaceful serenity on my face, beat them to death. Nothing personal, but you're fucking with my chi goddammit!
I wish people would just save me the expense, aggravation and prison sentence, and just take a goddamn second to say something, wave, whatever. Just a little courtesy is all I ask, the life you save may be your own.
I realize that I'm paid to be courteous (I appreciate it Sam, Can I have a raise?), but is it too much too ask that you at least acknowledge my attempt to brighten your day a little? I mean hey, I'm really trying here, and I truly hope you have a nice day, enjoy your shopping experience, etcetera, whatever, blah, blah, blah.
It pisses me off that people completely ignore me, it occasionally causes me to question my existance (I greet, therefore I am, or am I?)
I'm seriously considering the purchase of a quality aluminum softball bat and having it engraved with; "Have a nice day!", complete with smiley face.
Then the first person who pretends I'm not there, I'll calmly, with a look of peaceful serenity on my face, beat them to death. Nothing personal, but you're fucking with my chi goddammit!
I wish people would just save me the expense, aggravation and prison sentence, and just take a goddamn second to say something, wave, whatever. Just a little courtesy is all I ask, the life you save may be your own.
I'm back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Just a super quick note to let y'all know I'm home, safe though not exactly sound.
I fuckin' hate funerals, HATE THEM!!!!! And this one more than any other I've ever attended.
I believe I'll blow mine off, head for the bar instead.
I will one day soon tell you of the one and only funeral I ever truly enjoyed, my brother's.
Not because I didn't love him, we did not get along, but I did love him, hated his wife, still do, now more than ever, that's another story. But because of the nuggets of pure fuckin' comedy GOLD mined that day.
But not just yet, my nerves and emotions are still too raw just now.
I'll say this and then I'm going to bed;
I love my mother, I miss her, but I sure wish she'd shown us kids some of whatever endeared her to so many people.
As much as I love my Mom, I feared her more than anyone I've ever encountered before, or since.
That's all for now, please don't think me overly callous, I've cried hard for her this past week, but I'm also jealous of the love and affection she so readily shared with her many friends, qualities she was pretty tight with at home with us kids.
We'll talk soon.
-The Greeter
I fuckin' hate funerals, HATE THEM!!!!! And this one more than any other I've ever attended.
I believe I'll blow mine off, head for the bar instead.
I will one day soon tell you of the one and only funeral I ever truly enjoyed, my brother's.
Not because I didn't love him, we did not get along, but I did love him, hated his wife, still do, now more than ever, that's another story. But because of the nuggets of pure fuckin' comedy GOLD mined that day.
But not just yet, my nerves and emotions are still too raw just now.
I'll say this and then I'm going to bed;
I love my mother, I miss her, but I sure wish she'd shown us kids some of whatever endeared her to so many people.
As much as I love my Mom, I feared her more than anyone I've ever encountered before, or since.
That's all for now, please don't think me overly callous, I've cried hard for her this past week, but I'm also jealous of the love and affection she so readily shared with her many friends, qualities she was pretty tight with at home with us kids.
We'll talk soon.
-The Greeter
Friday, October 12, 2007
My Mother's Long Suffering has ended.
This morning at around 10:30, my mother died.
I'm told she went peacefully in her sleep, I hope that's true.
Her suffering has ended, as has that of those of us who worried over her.
She was 65 years old.
I hope she finds everything as she'd hoped it would be.
I'll be leaving Sunday or Monday and may be gone for several days,
I'm not sure if I'll post again before I leave, but we'll talk when I get back.
-The Greeter
I'm told she went peacefully in her sleep, I hope that's true.
Her suffering has ended, as has that of those of us who worried over her.
She was 65 years old.
I hope she finds everything as she'd hoped it would be.
I'll be leaving Sunday or Monday and may be gone for several days,
I'm not sure if I'll post again before I leave, but we'll talk when I get back.
-The Greeter
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Feeling a Little Bummed Today!
It's official, Today sucks!
Just a bunch of stupid little shit bringing me down.
My mom has built up a tolerance to the pain meds they gave her, and they seem to be having trouble getting anything to knock it down enough to let her sleep.
She made a decision back in 2000 after the last cancer, that she wouldn't fight it again, the Chemo almost killed her.
She vowed she wouldn't go through that again.
Last year when it came back she and the doc agreed that he'd only treat her for pain, He told her not to make plans for Christmas. She's still kicking, albeit weakly. They'd expected the cancer to be more agressive you see, like it had been last time.
It's languishing though, taking it's time, letting her twist in the wind.
She's suffering and there's nothing I can do for her.
I saw her 5 or 6 weeks ago for the first time in a while, I was fucking shocked! She's always enjoyed shocking us kids, so I hope she got some small pleasure from that :)
She's just wasting away, as I said in my ff thread, it looked like an actress wearing a mom suit 3 sizes too big. She gets worn out by short conversations (10 minutes), it just rips my fuckin' heart out to see her suffering like this. I know that's why she'd tried to keep me away.
I'd really like to punch Jesus in the mouth right now, God forgive me, but I'm angry !
Anyway, on to other things before I start crying again.
Worker's Comp. is, as I expected, going to fuck me over on the teeth that got broke in the Lawnmower incident (see; Beware of falling lawnmowers), they've agreed to pay 12% of the cost of dental reconstruction, but I only have a year or they're off the hook.
The dentist has estimated $12-15k for reconstruction, I might earn $10-11k a year in my exciting career as a Wal*Mart Greeter.
I'm more than a 1/4 million in debt and I'm broke.
Rolling pennies for gas broke.
If it cost a nickel to shit, I'd have to vomit.
The IRS has a tax lien on my mortal soul.
Please send me soup coupons, I'll be needing them.
I was really geeked up yesterday when I published my story (I know it says it was published Monday, but I only wrote the 1st third Monday night, saved the draft, then wrapped it yesterday afternoon), and I know that I always come down pretty hard from the manic times, so I know that's part of it too.
I'm a little disappointed by the lack of feedback I recieved on it too, only one (positive ) response and one cryptic response (What the fuck does "it lacks candies and chocolate" mean anyway).
Iwas really hoping for a good response to it, I know it's only been up one day, but I'm already starting to think I've let myself get too wrapped up in another pipe dream.
Anyway, I'm just feeling kinda shitty today.
Thanks for reading (if anyone is) we'll talk again,
-The Greeter
Just a bunch of stupid little shit bringing me down.
My mom has built up a tolerance to the pain meds they gave her, and they seem to be having trouble getting anything to knock it down enough to let her sleep.
She made a decision back in 2000 after the last cancer, that she wouldn't fight it again, the Chemo almost killed her.
She vowed she wouldn't go through that again.
Last year when it came back she and the doc agreed that he'd only treat her for pain, He told her not to make plans for Christmas. She's still kicking, albeit weakly. They'd expected the cancer to be more agressive you see, like it had been last time.
It's languishing though, taking it's time, letting her twist in the wind.
She's suffering and there's nothing I can do for her.
I saw her 5 or 6 weeks ago for the first time in a while, I was fucking shocked! She's always enjoyed shocking us kids, so I hope she got some small pleasure from that :)
She's just wasting away, as I said in my ff thread, it looked like an actress wearing a mom suit 3 sizes too big. She gets worn out by short conversations (10 minutes), it just rips my fuckin' heart out to see her suffering like this. I know that's why she'd tried to keep me away.
I'd really like to punch Jesus in the mouth right now, God forgive me, but I'm angry !
Anyway, on to other things before I start crying again.
Worker's Comp. is, as I expected, going to fuck me over on the teeth that got broke in the Lawnmower incident (see; Beware of falling lawnmowers), they've agreed to pay 12% of the cost of dental reconstruction, but I only have a year or they're off the hook.
The dentist has estimated $12-15k for reconstruction, I might earn $10-11k a year in my exciting career as a Wal*Mart Greeter.
I'm more than a 1/4 million in debt and I'm broke.
Rolling pennies for gas broke.
If it cost a nickel to shit, I'd have to vomit.
The IRS has a tax lien on my mortal soul.
Please send me soup coupons, I'll be needing them.
I was really geeked up yesterday when I published my story (I know it says it was published Monday, but I only wrote the 1st third Monday night, saved the draft, then wrapped it yesterday afternoon), and I know that I always come down pretty hard from the manic times, so I know that's part of it too.
I'm a little disappointed by the lack of feedback I recieved on it too, only one (positive ) response and one cryptic response (What the fuck does "it lacks candies and chocolate" mean anyway).
Iwas really hoping for a good response to it, I know it's only been up one day, but I'm already starting to think I've let myself get too wrapped up in another pipe dream.
Anyway, I'm just feeling kinda shitty today.
Thanks for reading (if anyone is) we'll talk again,
-The Greeter
Monday, October 8, 2007
Vicious Cycle!-A short story by The Greeter
This is a work of fiction!
This is the first complete story I've ever published anywhere. As stories go, it's pretty short.
It was inspired by an exchange in my thread at Fucked Forum the other night.
Please let me know what you think. Good or bad. Offer specific criticisms if you possibly can.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gus Llewellyn is a door greeter for a major chain store, you'd recognize the name, he's pretty good at it, and he hates it.
It's a job he's managed to hold for nearly two years, he knows that since the incident, it's the only job he's suited for now.
He gets around on a three wheel bike, he used to drive, there's an expired license in his wallet with a picture of the guy he used to be. He looks a lot different now.
He's married with two kids, but he doesn't know that. His wife unable to face raising her husband and two sons at the same time, took the kids and moved to Colorado. It hadn't been a tough decision, Gus wasn't a good husband and not much better as a father.
He'd had a mean streak.
When she'd heard the news, she knew he'd brought it on himself.
His mom didn't tell him about his family, he had so many other issues, she coulndn't bear to put this on him too.
His earliest memory is only 6 years old, anything beyond that is like looking through a pane of frosted glass.
It was a miracle he'd survived his injuries, the ER staff couldn't recall anyone surviving such serious head trauma. He spent 7 months in an induced coma, and nearly 3 years in a rehab facility.
He learned to walk, speak, care for himself all over again, finally peaking at the emotional level of a twelve year old.
His scars tell the tale of a savage beating and numerous surgeries, 14 in all. His head is mishapen from repeated blows from an aluminum softball bat, his body carries a mine's worth of titanium plates, screws, and pins.
He'd gone out running errands and mouthed off to the wrong guy, his assailant virtually destroyed him with a softball bat, but was found unfit to stand trial. Institutionilized instead, he commited suicide four months later.
He lives with his mother in a haze of sorrow for what he lost, made worse because he has no clue what once was.
---
Leland Poe was a greeter for a major chain store, you'd recognize the name, he hated his job intensely, only taking it because the only remaining options had been Social Security or suicide, he hadn't ruled out suicide, but SSI was out of the question.
He'd have eaten the gun already, probably within monthes of the incident that left him crippled, if it hadn't been for wife. He felt he'd let her down, and his one goal was to make it up to her. Now she was gone, she died nine months after they settled in the new town, four monthes after taking a job he hated to start fresh.
She went to bed one day with a headache as he left for work. She never woke up.
Nearly two years later, he was still handing out carts and smiley stickers, and fighting for his eroding sanity.
He Admired the greeters who came in to work like the world revolved around the job, he'd have paid a hefty price for some of that enthusiasm. But he also understood the difference between thier situation and his. Some, the seriously disabled, were at the pinnacle of thier success, they were holding down a real job. Some for the first time. greeting was a step in the right direction.
Still others were using the job to augment pensions or retirement, the job made life a bit easier.
Neither group was relying on the job for thier existence, they hadn't taken te greeter position on the rebound from total financial ruin .
Where they could ignore or dismiss rude behaviour and smart assed remarks, Leland couldn't, he took everything personally.
Leland had been a moderately successful owner of a cab company until he was severely beaten and shot twice during a robbery attempt. The recovery and rehabilitation nearly broke him emotionally. After the best rehab could offer, he was still crippled and scarred.
He'd mostly ignored the phsychological affects, choosing to concentrate instead on trying to save the company he'd built, now faltering because of a poor choice of people left in charge during his time in the hospital. In his absence, money had disappeared, promises and contracts had been broken. His most trusted friend, after engineering this breakdown, started a competing company and scooped up those clients left in a lurch by his mismanagement of Leland's accounts. Leland of course didn't blame his customers, they had no idea.
He became increasingly bitter as he became living proof that it's much harder to overcome a bad reputation than to establish a good one, his health, both mental and physical faltered as the 18 to 20 hour days took a hefty toll.
They were already in terrible financial trouble when his father in law died the following May
His wife fell and fractured her pelvis trying to intervene in a fight between him and her brother, and the seven months off work while she recovered sealed thier fate in Arizona.
They relocated to North Carolina, his childhood home, trying for a fresh start.
They both found work in a peanut processing factory, but he was soon let go because his disabilities related to the shooting, prevented him from being useful.
He spent nearly 3 monthes looking for any work at all, no one wanted to hire a cripple who's only real skill was driving a cab, the community they'd settled in had no need of taxi service, a moot point since his disabilities prevented him from obtaining a taxi driver's license in North Carolina.
Conceding defeat, Leland began the process of getting on disability, more depressed than ever, his anger flared everytime he thought about his previous stint on disability in his 20's, the waste of time Vocational Rehabilitation had been, and the demeaning, low paying jobs V.R. had found him.
When Leland quit the V.R. program, his counselor warned that with his attitude, he'd wind up as a door greeter.
And now he was. He'd accepted the job only because it was likely his last oppurtunity to stay off the doll, allowing him to retain that one, single shred of dignity.
Besides, he'd told his wife as he struggled to convince himself he'd made the right move, there's always the possibility of advancement.
His wife was proud of him trying not to give up, but knew he'd be miserable, knew also that as long as he stayed the company, he'd alway be a greeter, she'd smiled and nodded, holding her tongue.
He found out almost immeadiately, that he'd lied to himself yet again.
9 months later his wife was gone, he and members of thier church the only attendees of her service, he quit attending church soon after.
Now, four days from his 2nd anniversary with the corporate giant, Leland was a study in torment and misery, his best days were those when he was mostly ignored.
Usually though, there were any number of individual seemingly small things that drove him a little deeper into his simmering depression .
Everytime a child shrunk away from his offer of the litle yellow happy face stickers because his scars and size intimidated them, everytime he was hassled for trying to do his job, everytime he was mocked by a co-worker, everytime he was the target of someone's smart assed remark, it became harder to keep the lid clamped on his boiling rage.
He was aware that over time he'd come to fit the stereotype of the mentally impared greeter that everyone mocked him for.
-----
The day had actually begun better than most, people Had seemed genuinely friendly at times, polite, school was in session, so there weren't as many kids to recoil from him or teens and college kids to belittle him, a lady turned in a softball bat found in the parking lot, he set it next to him.
The guy looked like an average customer, Leland extended his standard greeting.
"Piss off retard."
"What?" Leland was incredulous.
"I said 'Piss off retard', go mind your buggies now.", Gus Llewellyn spoke in soft tone one might use to address a particularly slow witted child.
He continued into the store as Leland grabbed up the bat.
Gus never saw it coming.
Leland rembered the verbal exchange clearly, then nothing until they wrestled the aluminum Rawlings bat, bloodied and bent at a 45 degree angle from his hands, he'd been covered in the man's blood, but couldn't figure how it got all over him, he started forward to help him but was thrown to the ground and held there until police arrived. They were all acting afraid of him and he couldn't figure out why.
The public defender filled in the blanks for him, then pled insanity as his defense. He was deemed unfit for trial and hospitalized.
After 3 months, Leland knew what he had to do, something his pride , what precious little he'd had left, had prevented him from doing years before.
He began palming his meds, after three weeks, he washed them down with a carton of chocolate milk.
Please let me know what you think
-The Greeter
This is the first complete story I've ever published anywhere. As stories go, it's pretty short.
It was inspired by an exchange in my thread at Fucked Forum the other night.
Please let me know what you think. Good or bad. Offer specific criticisms if you possibly can.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gus Llewellyn is a door greeter for a major chain store, you'd recognize the name, he's pretty good at it, and he hates it.
It's a job he's managed to hold for nearly two years, he knows that since the incident, it's the only job he's suited for now.
He gets around on a three wheel bike, he used to drive, there's an expired license in his wallet with a picture of the guy he used to be. He looks a lot different now.
He's married with two kids, but he doesn't know that. His wife unable to face raising her husband and two sons at the same time, took the kids and moved to Colorado. It hadn't been a tough decision, Gus wasn't a good husband and not much better as a father.
He'd had a mean streak.
When she'd heard the news, she knew he'd brought it on himself.
His mom didn't tell him about his family, he had so many other issues, she coulndn't bear to put this on him too.
His earliest memory is only 6 years old, anything beyond that is like looking through a pane of frosted glass.
It was a miracle he'd survived his injuries, the ER staff couldn't recall anyone surviving such serious head trauma. He spent 7 months in an induced coma, and nearly 3 years in a rehab facility.
He learned to walk, speak, care for himself all over again, finally peaking at the emotional level of a twelve year old.
His scars tell the tale of a savage beating and numerous surgeries, 14 in all. His head is mishapen from repeated blows from an aluminum softball bat, his body carries a mine's worth of titanium plates, screws, and pins.
He'd gone out running errands and mouthed off to the wrong guy, his assailant virtually destroyed him with a softball bat, but was found unfit to stand trial. Institutionilized instead, he commited suicide four months later.
He lives with his mother in a haze of sorrow for what he lost, made worse because he has no clue what once was.
---
Leland Poe was a greeter for a major chain store, you'd recognize the name, he hated his job intensely, only taking it because the only remaining options had been Social Security or suicide, he hadn't ruled out suicide, but SSI was out of the question.
He'd have eaten the gun already, probably within monthes of the incident that left him crippled, if it hadn't been for wife. He felt he'd let her down, and his one goal was to make it up to her. Now she was gone, she died nine months after they settled in the new town, four monthes after taking a job he hated to start fresh.
She went to bed one day with a headache as he left for work. She never woke up.
Nearly two years later, he was still handing out carts and smiley stickers, and fighting for his eroding sanity.
He Admired the greeters who came in to work like the world revolved around the job, he'd have paid a hefty price for some of that enthusiasm. But he also understood the difference between thier situation and his. Some, the seriously disabled, were at the pinnacle of thier success, they were holding down a real job. Some for the first time. greeting was a step in the right direction.
Still others were using the job to augment pensions or retirement, the job made life a bit easier.
Neither group was relying on the job for thier existence, they hadn't taken te greeter position on the rebound from total financial ruin .
Where they could ignore or dismiss rude behaviour and smart assed remarks, Leland couldn't, he took everything personally.
Leland had been a moderately successful owner of a cab company until he was severely beaten and shot twice during a robbery attempt. The recovery and rehabilitation nearly broke him emotionally. After the best rehab could offer, he was still crippled and scarred.
He'd mostly ignored the phsychological affects, choosing to concentrate instead on trying to save the company he'd built, now faltering because of a poor choice of people left in charge during his time in the hospital. In his absence, money had disappeared, promises and contracts had been broken. His most trusted friend, after engineering this breakdown, started a competing company and scooped up those clients left in a lurch by his mismanagement of Leland's accounts. Leland of course didn't blame his customers, they had no idea.
He became increasingly bitter as he became living proof that it's much harder to overcome a bad reputation than to establish a good one, his health, both mental and physical faltered as the 18 to 20 hour days took a hefty toll.
They were already in terrible financial trouble when his father in law died the following May
His wife fell and fractured her pelvis trying to intervene in a fight between him and her brother, and the seven months off work while she recovered sealed thier fate in Arizona.
They relocated to North Carolina, his childhood home, trying for a fresh start.
They both found work in a peanut processing factory, but he was soon let go because his disabilities related to the shooting, prevented him from being useful.
He spent nearly 3 monthes looking for any work at all, no one wanted to hire a cripple who's only real skill was driving a cab, the community they'd settled in had no need of taxi service, a moot point since his disabilities prevented him from obtaining a taxi driver's license in North Carolina.
Conceding defeat, Leland began the process of getting on disability, more depressed than ever, his anger flared everytime he thought about his previous stint on disability in his 20's, the waste of time Vocational Rehabilitation had been, and the demeaning, low paying jobs V.R. had found him.
When Leland quit the V.R. program, his counselor warned that with his attitude, he'd wind up as a door greeter.
And now he was. He'd accepted the job only because it was likely his last oppurtunity to stay off the doll, allowing him to retain that one, single shred of dignity.
Besides, he'd told his wife as he struggled to convince himself he'd made the right move, there's always the possibility of advancement.
His wife was proud of him trying not to give up, but knew he'd be miserable, knew also that as long as he stayed the company, he'd alway be a greeter, she'd smiled and nodded, holding her tongue.
He found out almost immeadiately, that he'd lied to himself yet again.
9 months later his wife was gone, he and members of thier church the only attendees of her service, he quit attending church soon after.
Now, four days from his 2nd anniversary with the corporate giant, Leland was a study in torment and misery, his best days were those when he was mostly ignored.
Usually though, there were any number of individual seemingly small things that drove him a little deeper into his simmering depression .
Everytime a child shrunk away from his offer of the litle yellow happy face stickers because his scars and size intimidated them, everytime he was hassled for trying to do his job, everytime he was mocked by a co-worker, everytime he was the target of someone's smart assed remark, it became harder to keep the lid clamped on his boiling rage.
He was aware that over time he'd come to fit the stereotype of the mentally impared greeter that everyone mocked him for.
-----
The day had actually begun better than most, people Had seemed genuinely friendly at times, polite, school was in session, so there weren't as many kids to recoil from him or teens and college kids to belittle him, a lady turned in a softball bat found in the parking lot, he set it next to him.
The guy looked like an average customer, Leland extended his standard greeting.
"Piss off retard."
"What?" Leland was incredulous.
"I said 'Piss off retard', go mind your buggies now.", Gus Llewellyn spoke in soft tone one might use to address a particularly slow witted child.
He continued into the store as Leland grabbed up the bat.
Gus never saw it coming.
Leland rembered the verbal exchange clearly, then nothing until they wrestled the aluminum Rawlings bat, bloodied and bent at a 45 degree angle from his hands, he'd been covered in the man's blood, but couldn't figure how it got all over him, he started forward to help him but was thrown to the ground and held there until police arrived. They were all acting afraid of him and he couldn't figure out why.
The public defender filled in the blanks for him, then pled insanity as his defense. He was deemed unfit for trial and hospitalized.
After 3 months, Leland knew what he had to do, something his pride , what precious little he'd had left, had prevented him from doing years before.
He began palming his meds, after three weeks, he washed them down with a carton of chocolate milk.
Please let me know what you think
-The Greeter
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Getting MAXIMUM value from the death penalty!!!!!
I know that to some, the death penalty is a touchy subject, so I realize I may be fixing to outrage some folks, but as this is America, and this MY blog, I'm going to say this;
I'm a BIG fan of capital punishment, though I have a few problems with the system.
I respect your opinions, and I mean that.
I could debate the Death Penalty for hours (I have, many times in the past), if you disagree with me, please post a rebuttal in the comments section, I'd love to hear some intelligent opinions, even if they differ from mine.
Smoke 'em if you got 'em, grab a beverage, and grab a seat. This one may take awhile!
My biggest issue with capital punishment is that they don't use it near enough, the deterrent value of an eye for an eye is diminished when someone can languish on death row for 15 or 20 years, they're there for a reason, just take 'em out. We need the money and space for the next guy.
I believe that if you are convicted of a capital crime, you should get one appeal. ONE APPEAL!
But don't fuck around, cause I'm only giving you a 30 day window from start to finish.
It must be decided whether your appeal has merit within 30 days, if a judge thinks you have a case, you get 90 days to make it. That's it!
If the verdict stands, you're dead within 7 days, no reprieve, no pardon, no shit!
"But what if someone manages to pull off a David Gale?", You ask?
Fuck him! I admire anyone with that kind of commitment to a cause, but he'll die anyway because he's fucking with the system! So will his conspirators.
Odds are, if you got convicted you did it, you do hear about someone wrongly convicted now & then, but the entire process moves to a higher level in a capital case, I'm willing to play the odds on this .
But I'll give you this one, if a person should be proven innocent after thier execution, and you can point to one person who's responsible (excluding the Judge or jury), then we'll execute that person for murder! That should dramaticly raise the quality of the investigation as a bonus.
What do you think?
Executions in all states should be stepped up to one a week until we've cleared the worst of the deadwood, newly convicted would get in line until we bring the books current.
This alone would possibly deter some, but this is just the beginning.
We need to get rid of lethal injection.
The guy who raped and murdered a 90 year old woman to get at her social security check, then burned her house down to hide his crime has no fucking right to be treated humanely. At the very least, bring back the electric chair and firing squads.
I say customize the execution to fit the crime, make the execution as painful,humiliating, and degrading as the death of thier victims!
Make execution hurt! Make them suffer!!!! Make it bloody and graphic and hard to watch!
Then put it on TV!!!!
Make it mandatory for the networks to air executions, often.
Tape them all, and make the goriest examples mandatory viewing in all jails, prisons, and all other detention facilities! Especially juvenile detention facilities, where we would have our best chance of turning the youngest criminals around! Make them understand that this is thier fate, the ultimate price. And that thier momma might see it after Wheel of Fortune some night.
Get the public involved!
People should be encouraged (but not mandated) to view executions ( the high profile ones at least), better still the public should be allowed to particate if they wish.
How about a National Lottery, run like the Powerball, offering a top prize of $10,000, plus the right to throw the switch for an execution in your state,. Or you could choose to pass on the money for the right to choose which execution, nationwide, you'd like to participate in.
Tell me that wouldn't be the most wildly popular lottery in fucking recorded history!!!!
Alternately, they could encourage voter registration and jury duty participation by offering a chance to participate in an execution as an incentive to do your civic duty.
Ideally I'd like to see state and federal laws toughened in certain areas, to go along with this program;
1) Any death occuring during any crime = Murder; AUTOMATIC DEATH PENALTY!!!!!!!!!!
2) Automatic application of the harshest sentence to anyone who refuses to plead guilty.
3) Outlaw the practice of sentence reduction through the Plea Bargain. Instead utilizing the plea bargain as tool to ensure greatest comfort should one agree to assist the prosecution, ie;
Bob, who's looking at ten years for being an unarmed participant or conspirator in a crime, would serve ten years, but his choice to cooperate would ensure he has the easist ten years possible.
Transversely;
Failure to cooperate may expose Bob to the harshest possible ten year sentence.
4) Using a weapon in the commission of any crime = 25 years to life on the first offense!
5) Injuring any person during the commission of a crime = Life in Prison! 1st offense!
6) Conspiracy to Murder = 25 to Life if no one dies = death if a murder is committed.
7) Unarmed participant or conspirator = 10 year minimum mandatory sentece, providing no one is killed, if a death occurs, life,no parole!
8) DUI; 1st offense; 1 year, no parole! 2nd offense; 10 years, no parole! 3rd offense; Life, possibilty of Parole after 50 years!!!
9) DUI with injury; Life, no parole!!!
10) DUI with death; Death Penalty! No Appeal, No exception!!!
My fiancee and unborn son were murdered by a 5 time convicted drunk driver!!!!
A person was killed in one of his previous cases! His total time served in those 5 cases was less than 5 years!!!!!!!!
My older brother was murdered by a drunk driver with 3 prior DUI convictions!!
I have been seriously injured twice by drunk drivers!!
I admit being biased!!!
But think about it, drunk driving is more easily prevented than most any other crime, all you have to do is not fucking drive! Take a cab, get a ride, sleep there, kill yourself! Anything that keeps you out from behind the wheel!!!!
My fiancee was great, pretty, smart, loved to talk dirty and go to the swap meet. She'd be 35 today. Her mother committed suicide!
My son, God how I would love to have met him.
My brother was kind of a dick, but he was a damn funny dick. Left behind 5 kids.
He'd be 49 today.
Think before you drink, if you decide to drink and drive remember this:
If it were up to me, you'd die for it!
I'm a BIG fan of capital punishment, though I have a few problems with the system.
I respect your opinions, and I mean that.
I could debate the Death Penalty for hours (I have, many times in the past), if you disagree with me, please post a rebuttal in the comments section, I'd love to hear some intelligent opinions, even if they differ from mine.
Smoke 'em if you got 'em, grab a beverage, and grab a seat. This one may take awhile!
My biggest issue with capital punishment is that they don't use it near enough, the deterrent value of an eye for an eye is diminished when someone can languish on death row for 15 or 20 years, they're there for a reason, just take 'em out. We need the money and space for the next guy.
I believe that if you are convicted of a capital crime, you should get one appeal. ONE APPEAL!
But don't fuck around, cause I'm only giving you a 30 day window from start to finish.
It must be decided whether your appeal has merit within 30 days, if a judge thinks you have a case, you get 90 days to make it. That's it!
If the verdict stands, you're dead within 7 days, no reprieve, no pardon, no shit!
"But what if someone manages to pull off a David Gale?", You ask?
Fuck him! I admire anyone with that kind of commitment to a cause, but he'll die anyway because he's fucking with the system! So will his conspirators.
Odds are, if you got convicted you did it, you do hear about someone wrongly convicted now & then, but the entire process moves to a higher level in a capital case, I'm willing to play the odds on this .
But I'll give you this one, if a person should be proven innocent after thier execution, and you can point to one person who's responsible (excluding the Judge or jury), then we'll execute that person for murder! That should dramaticly raise the quality of the investigation as a bonus.
What do you think?
Executions in all states should be stepped up to one a week until we've cleared the worst of the deadwood, newly convicted would get in line until we bring the books current.
This alone would possibly deter some, but this is just the beginning.
We need to get rid of lethal injection.
The guy who raped and murdered a 90 year old woman to get at her social security check, then burned her house down to hide his crime has no fucking right to be treated humanely. At the very least, bring back the electric chair and firing squads.
I say customize the execution to fit the crime, make the execution as painful,humiliating, and degrading as the death of thier victims!
Make execution hurt! Make them suffer!!!! Make it bloody and graphic and hard to watch!
Then put it on TV!!!!
Make it mandatory for the networks to air executions, often.
Tape them all, and make the goriest examples mandatory viewing in all jails, prisons, and all other detention facilities! Especially juvenile detention facilities, where we would have our best chance of turning the youngest criminals around! Make them understand that this is thier fate, the ultimate price. And that thier momma might see it after Wheel of Fortune some night.
Get the public involved!
People should be encouraged (but not mandated) to view executions ( the high profile ones at least), better still the public should be allowed to particate if they wish.
How about a National Lottery, run like the Powerball, offering a top prize of $10,000, plus the right to throw the switch for an execution in your state,. Or you could choose to pass on the money for the right to choose which execution, nationwide, you'd like to participate in.
Tell me that wouldn't be the most wildly popular lottery in fucking recorded history!!!!
Alternately, they could encourage voter registration and jury duty participation by offering a chance to participate in an execution as an incentive to do your civic duty.
Ideally I'd like to see state and federal laws toughened in certain areas, to go along with this program;
1) Any death occuring during any crime = Murder; AUTOMATIC DEATH PENALTY!!!!!!!!!!
2) Automatic application of the harshest sentence to anyone who refuses to plead guilty.
3) Outlaw the practice of sentence reduction through the Plea Bargain. Instead utilizing the plea bargain as tool to ensure greatest comfort should one agree to assist the prosecution, ie;
Bob, who's looking at ten years for being an unarmed participant or conspirator in a crime, would serve ten years, but his choice to cooperate would ensure he has the easist ten years possible.
Transversely;
Failure to cooperate may expose Bob to the harshest possible ten year sentence.
4) Using a weapon in the commission of any crime = 25 years to life on the first offense!
5) Injuring any person during the commission of a crime = Life in Prison! 1st offense!
6) Conspiracy to Murder = 25 to Life if no one dies = death if a murder is committed.
7) Unarmed participant or conspirator = 10 year minimum mandatory sentece, providing no one is killed, if a death occurs, life,no parole!
8) DUI; 1st offense; 1 year, no parole! 2nd offense; 10 years, no parole! 3rd offense; Life, possibilty of Parole after 50 years!!!
9) DUI with injury; Life, no parole!!!
10) DUI with death; Death Penalty! No Appeal, No exception!!!
My fiancee and unborn son were murdered by a 5 time convicted drunk driver!!!!
A person was killed in one of his previous cases! His total time served in those 5 cases was less than 5 years!!!!!!!!
My older brother was murdered by a drunk driver with 3 prior DUI convictions!!
I have been seriously injured twice by drunk drivers!!
I admit being biased!!!
But think about it, drunk driving is more easily prevented than most any other crime, all you have to do is not fucking drive! Take a cab, get a ride, sleep there, kill yourself! Anything that keeps you out from behind the wheel!!!!
My fiancee was great, pretty, smart, loved to talk dirty and go to the swap meet. She'd be 35 today. Her mother committed suicide!
My son, God how I would love to have met him.
My brother was kind of a dick, but he was a damn funny dick. Left behind 5 kids.
He'd be 49 today.
Think before you drink, if you decide to drink and drive remember this:
If it were up to me, you'd die for it!
An Addendum to "Greeter Meltdown"
Why Cricket Bats? Well really it's because I recently re-watched 'Shaun of the Dead' and I like the look of the Cricket bat. It's elegant and deliciously sinister at the same time.
It's wide and flat with rounded blunt edges, it's far more ominous looking than a baseball bat.
It looks like, in the hands of the right person, it could do massive amounts of really interesting looking damage!
I'm not Advocating total elimination of stupid people from America, no siree.
I'm all about diversity, I would never suggest the complete elimination of a species.
Besides, we need them, who else would we get to bag our groceries, wash our cars, or work as Wal*Mart greeters.
No we don't want to wipe them all out, 1 or 2% tops, enough to get our point accross;
"Get your shit together or get dealt with!" The brutal beating deaths of 400,000 idiots (I think some should be televised for Maximum Impact!) would certainly deter a great deal of the stupidity that leaves many of us numb with disbelief.
I know many of you have, if only briefly, considered blugoening some idiot to death with a heavy, blunt object. I'm just taking it to another level.
-The Greeter
It's wide and flat with rounded blunt edges, it's far more ominous looking than a baseball bat.
It looks like, in the hands of the right person, it could do massive amounts of really interesting looking damage!
I'm not Advocating total elimination of stupid people from America, no siree.
I'm all about diversity, I would never suggest the complete elimination of a species.
Besides, we need them, who else would we get to bag our groceries, wash our cars, or work as Wal*Mart greeters.
No we don't want to wipe them all out, 1 or 2% tops, enough to get our point accross;
"Get your shit together or get dealt with!" The brutal beating deaths of 400,000 idiots (I think some should be televised for Maximum Impact!) would certainly deter a great deal of the stupidity that leaves many of us numb with disbelief.
I know many of you have, if only briefly, considered blugoening some idiot to death with a heavy, blunt object. I'm just taking it to another level.
-The Greeter
You knew it was coming! Greeter meltdown in 3..2..1..
BOOM!
I'll be okay in a minute, just comb the little bits of me outta your hair, sit down, and hang on!
I am super pissed off tonight!!!!!!!
1st up;
I'm being sued!!!!!!!!!
Just six days after the falling lawnmower incident I was informed that I am named as a defendant in a BIG $$$$$$$ lawsuit against Wal*Mart
I have no idea what this means, I can only assume that if they don't get the settlement they want from WM, they'll come after me for the balance.
I've been advised to avoid commenting on the lawsuit or incident , so until the case is resolved, here is my final word on it;
Hey BITCH!!!!! You and your lawyers can take shove your stupid fucking lawsuit up your fucking ass!!!!!!!!!Right after you use it to wipe my piss from your eyes!!!!!!!!!!
O.K. Now on to the rest of the shit giving me the RedAss tonight!!!
Kids Gone Wild;
1st let me say this; I like kids, they're just like little people. I buried my son before he was born thanks to a drunk driver, I like to think having my son would have grounded me, made me a better person. He was my only child, I wish I'd got to meet him.
There is absolutely no way he'd have turned out like the kids I'm fixing to screech about!!!!!!!!!!!
2nd, Let me say that this tirade is not directed at you, unless you have 1 or more completely uncontrollable wild dogs for kids. If this is the case you may want to skip my blog today and check out some family counseling. Seriously, get some help, that's what it's there for.
Why do you people think that Wal*Mart is some uber huge childcare facility?!
Why would you hand off your chldren to the door greeter with a "I'll be right back, left the checkbook in the car" and a smile, however charming that smile might be??
Especially a door greeter who is a 6' tall, 325lbs pile of scars, tattoos, and psychosis??
You don't know me! You think that because Wal*Mart was foolish enough to hand me a name badge and a roll of happy face stickers, that I won't kill and eat your children before you return?
I would never hurt your kids, but I might sell them to someone that would!
I am kidding! Your kids would be totally safe with me. But do you see my point?
This really happened today, lady left her 2 & 3 year old daughters with me for maybe 5 minutes, but the kids freaked, screaming and crying like I was holding over the opening of a wood chipper!
And upon her return, she gets all in my face because her kids are all spun out!
What'd she think was gonna happen?! These kids won't look at me, smile or anything everytime I see them, they'll hide behind thier parents to avoid me (you'd really be surprised how often that happens),. How did she think those kids wouldn't be batshit insane by the time she returned!!!!? I really thought someone was gonna call the cops!
The manager on duty comes up and starts hammering at me!
What, was I supposed to grab some grape juice and graham crackers and take 'em to watch Pokemon in the electronics section!!!!!!!
So mom and children leave to do thier shopping, the kids still hitching and sniffling (they saw me on the way out and started wailing all over again) , the manager says "I only dug into you to calm down mom, there was nothing you could do."
Aw Fuck you, and her, and those screeching kids!! You should've stood up for me!!!
Whatever, I shouldn't have even expected his half assed apology!!
I see kids all day, and an alarmingly high # of them are little fucking monsters!
Sure there are some good kids too, some great kids, but they're rare enough, I'm a little shocked whenever I meet one.
Most of the kids I run into are unattended, left to run amok in the store, reaking havoc!
In just over 4 months I've already seen 3 injuries caused by unattended kids, Wal*Mart's being sued in all 3 cases, yet the store ignores these little hellions, and associates are warned not to intervene unless there is 'imminent danger', the definition of which is vague.
The company's policies are weak across the board, they kept us from getting a profit share bounus in August, with 4 (or more ) personal injury suits pending, we're not gonna see the November one either. If the suits don't get us, the shrinkage will.
I don't have kids, but I own dogs, and I've spent a lot of time and money training them to behave appropriately, and to approprately respond to authority. I spend time with them everyday, whether I feel like it or not, to build and affirm our bond.
I know kids are more involved than that, but you had them, you're responsible for them, and to them, just like I am to my dogs. Oversimpified? Yeah, but you see my point don't you?
You are the parents, fucking act like it!!!
While I'm on the subject of kids, whendid it become acceptable to dress 7 & 8 year old girls in hip huggers and tube tops?
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ABOUT?!!!!!!!!
Holy shit!! Why dont you get her a 'temporary lower back tattoo' outta the machine in the lobby (yes I'm serious), it's too bad we don't sell those clear healed 'hooker shoes' in children's sizes!
Nothing would make me more proud than if I could show off my 2nd grader wearing lowriders(with her 'Barbie' panties showing), a lime green tube top, and a 'tramp stamp'. Just like her momma!
I keep waiting on one to hit me up for a 'date'!
I'm waiting for Mattel to release "Baby's First IUD"!
The closet pedos must be having a field day.
How long til kiddie porn goes mainstream?!
I had a 7 y.o. boy tell me today, that he wanted to be a pimp when he grew up! Why am I not surprised?!
An employee of our store is 27 years old, has 5 kids from 4 dads. She just became a GRANDMOTHER!!!!!!!! SHE'S EXCITED ABOUT IT!!!!! I'm guessing the guy that knocked up her then 12 y.o. daughter must be pretty stoked, at least he will be when he gets out of prison.
This whole family is a write off!
Learn to control your children, quit dressing them like whores, teach 'em some values for Christ's sake!!!!!
I'm no prude but GODDAMN!!!!!!!!
Stupid people are taking over the world;
It seems to me that the abilities to apply logic and reason must be a dead art form, it seems like stupid people are multiplying like they're being hatched from pods; 'Invasion of the Complete Fucking Morons'.
No one seems to be able to interact with each other appropriately anymore.
Yes, it seems completely reasonable to walk into Wal*Mart with a page and a half long grocery list and decline the offer of a shopping cart from the mildly deranged looking fellow at the door (no they're not hiring straight out of prison, hee hee. That is pretty funny,asshole).
Yeah, you're right, there's no reason to go all the way back to the front once you realize you needed a buggy after all, just steal that big guy's cart, why not?
I'm as surprised as you are that he punched you out, no really, who'd have thought?
How long before you can eat solid food again?
So do they let you dress yourself dumbass?
This really happened the 1st week I was here, and the guy really griped to me about it a few weeks later, through his wired jaw. Ihave no sympathy for either party, I only wish I'd been there to see it.
It seems like there's no more incentive to behave like sane, civil, reasonable adults.
I have a plan!
1st, scour the country for the most reasonable and sane among us (I would love to take this on, but I've preiously established myself as being, shall we say 'occasionally unstable'), issue them Cricket bats, and send them out to randomly beat stupid people to death!
That's right, you ran that guy off the road because you couldn't put down your cell phone long enough to take a bite of your bagel? At the next traffic light you'll be drug from your fucking Escalade and beaten to death by cricket bats in the middle of the intersection. In full view of several of your fellow idiots.
I can tell your dubious, let me break it down for you;
If the 'Stupid Police' could eradicate 1% of the idiots in America, that's roughly 400,000 people, roughly the population of Albequerque N.M, not only would we significantly decrease the # of stupid people, but we'd also decrease the # of stupid things they would have done.
Just think, we might prevent the next ridulous fashion trend, greatly reduce the # of people who dress up thier pets, hell we might even prevent another 1/2 dozen reality shows.
We would also slow the spread of stupidity through breeding, by eliminating stupid people from the gene pool, we reduce the possibilty of idiots breeding with other idiots, breeding a race of 'Super Fools' (socioligists believe this was Hitler's true goal, to breed a 'master race' of complete idiots), think of the crisis that could be averted!
Furthermore, eliminating 400,000 idiots from our population would greatly reduce the strain on our infrastructure and resources, think of the benifits inthe battle against global warming alone, not to mention our dependance on foriegn oil!
Finally, It would have real value as a deterrent, stupid people nation wide would take steps to get educated, build social and reasoning skills or at least get thier shit together to avoid being targeted by the 'Stupid Police'
I don't see how my plan could fail.
What do you think?
Next time;
Getting Maximum value out of the death penalty! (Seroiously)
- The Greeter
I'll be okay in a minute, just comb the little bits of me outta your hair, sit down, and hang on!
I am super pissed off tonight!!!!!!!
1st up;
I'm being sued!!!!!!!!!
Just six days after the falling lawnmower incident I was informed that I am named as a defendant in a BIG $$$$$$$ lawsuit against Wal*Mart
I have no idea what this means, I can only assume that if they don't get the settlement they want from WM, they'll come after me for the balance.
I've been advised to avoid commenting on the lawsuit or incident , so until the case is resolved, here is my final word on it;
Hey BITCH!!!!! You and your lawyers can take shove your stupid fucking lawsuit up your fucking ass!!!!!!!!!Right after you use it to wipe my piss from your eyes!!!!!!!!!!
O.K. Now on to the rest of the shit giving me the RedAss tonight!!!
Kids Gone Wild;
1st let me say this; I like kids, they're just like little people. I buried my son before he was born thanks to a drunk driver, I like to think having my son would have grounded me, made me a better person. He was my only child, I wish I'd got to meet him.
There is absolutely no way he'd have turned out like the kids I'm fixing to screech about!!!!!!!!!!!
2nd, Let me say that this tirade is not directed at you, unless you have 1 or more completely uncontrollable wild dogs for kids. If this is the case you may want to skip my blog today and check out some family counseling. Seriously, get some help, that's what it's there for.
Why do you people think that Wal*Mart is some uber huge childcare facility?!
Why would you hand off your chldren to the door greeter with a "I'll be right back, left the checkbook in the car" and a smile, however charming that smile might be??
Especially a door greeter who is a 6' tall, 325lbs pile of scars, tattoos, and psychosis??
You don't know me! You think that because Wal*Mart was foolish enough to hand me a name badge and a roll of happy face stickers, that I won't kill and eat your children before you return?
I would never hurt your kids, but I might sell them to someone that would!
I am kidding! Your kids would be totally safe with me. But do you see my point?
This really happened today, lady left her 2 & 3 year old daughters with me for maybe 5 minutes, but the kids freaked, screaming and crying like I was holding over the opening of a wood chipper!
And upon her return, she gets all in my face because her kids are all spun out!
What'd she think was gonna happen?! These kids won't look at me, smile or anything everytime I see them, they'll hide behind thier parents to avoid me (you'd really be surprised how often that happens),. How did she think those kids wouldn't be batshit insane by the time she returned!!!!? I really thought someone was gonna call the cops!
The manager on duty comes up and starts hammering at me!
What, was I supposed to grab some grape juice and graham crackers and take 'em to watch Pokemon in the electronics section!!!!!!!
So mom and children leave to do thier shopping, the kids still hitching and sniffling (they saw me on the way out and started wailing all over again) , the manager says "I only dug into you to calm down mom, there was nothing you could do."
Aw Fuck you, and her, and those screeching kids!! You should've stood up for me!!!
Whatever, I shouldn't have even expected his half assed apology!!
I see kids all day, and an alarmingly high # of them are little fucking monsters!
Sure there are some good kids too, some great kids, but they're rare enough, I'm a little shocked whenever I meet one.
Most of the kids I run into are unattended, left to run amok in the store, reaking havoc!
In just over 4 months I've already seen 3 injuries caused by unattended kids, Wal*Mart's being sued in all 3 cases, yet the store ignores these little hellions, and associates are warned not to intervene unless there is 'imminent danger', the definition of which is vague.
The company's policies are weak across the board, they kept us from getting a profit share bounus in August, with 4 (or more ) personal injury suits pending, we're not gonna see the November one either. If the suits don't get us, the shrinkage will.
I don't have kids, but I own dogs, and I've spent a lot of time and money training them to behave appropriately, and to approprately respond to authority. I spend time with them everyday, whether I feel like it or not, to build and affirm our bond.
I know kids are more involved than that, but you had them, you're responsible for them, and to them, just like I am to my dogs. Oversimpified? Yeah, but you see my point don't you?
You are the parents, fucking act like it!!!
While I'm on the subject of kids, whendid it become acceptable to dress 7 & 8 year old girls in hip huggers and tube tops?
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ABOUT?!!!!!!!!
Holy shit!! Why dont you get her a 'temporary lower back tattoo' outta the machine in the lobby (yes I'm serious), it's too bad we don't sell those clear healed 'hooker shoes' in children's sizes!
Nothing would make me more proud than if I could show off my 2nd grader wearing lowriders(with her 'Barbie' panties showing), a lime green tube top, and a 'tramp stamp'. Just like her momma!
I keep waiting on one to hit me up for a 'date'!
I'm waiting for Mattel to release "Baby's First IUD"!
The closet pedos must be having a field day.
How long til kiddie porn goes mainstream?!
I had a 7 y.o. boy tell me today, that he wanted to be a pimp when he grew up! Why am I not surprised?!
An employee of our store is 27 years old, has 5 kids from 4 dads. She just became a GRANDMOTHER!!!!!!!! SHE'S EXCITED ABOUT IT!!!!! I'm guessing the guy that knocked up her then 12 y.o. daughter must be pretty stoked, at least he will be when he gets out of prison.
This whole family is a write off!
Learn to control your children, quit dressing them like whores, teach 'em some values for Christ's sake!!!!!
I'm no prude but GODDAMN!!!!!!!!
Stupid people are taking over the world;
It seems to me that the abilities to apply logic and reason must be a dead art form, it seems like stupid people are multiplying like they're being hatched from pods; 'Invasion of the Complete Fucking Morons'.
No one seems to be able to interact with each other appropriately anymore.
Yes, it seems completely reasonable to walk into Wal*Mart with a page and a half long grocery list and decline the offer of a shopping cart from the mildly deranged looking fellow at the door (no they're not hiring straight out of prison, hee hee. That is pretty funny,asshole).
Yeah, you're right, there's no reason to go all the way back to the front once you realize you needed a buggy after all, just steal that big guy's cart, why not?
I'm as surprised as you are that he punched you out, no really, who'd have thought?
How long before you can eat solid food again?
So do they let you dress yourself dumbass?
This really happened the 1st week I was here, and the guy really griped to me about it a few weeks later, through his wired jaw. Ihave no sympathy for either party, I only wish I'd been there to see it.
It seems like there's no more incentive to behave like sane, civil, reasonable adults.
I have a plan!
1st, scour the country for the most reasonable and sane among us (I would love to take this on, but I've preiously established myself as being, shall we say 'occasionally unstable'), issue them Cricket bats, and send them out to randomly beat stupid people to death!
That's right, you ran that guy off the road because you couldn't put down your cell phone long enough to take a bite of your bagel? At the next traffic light you'll be drug from your fucking Escalade and beaten to death by cricket bats in the middle of the intersection. In full view of several of your fellow idiots.
I can tell your dubious, let me break it down for you;
If the 'Stupid Police' could eradicate 1% of the idiots in America, that's roughly 400,000 people, roughly the population of Albequerque N.M, not only would we significantly decrease the # of stupid people, but we'd also decrease the # of stupid things they would have done.
Just think, we might prevent the next ridulous fashion trend, greatly reduce the # of people who dress up thier pets, hell we might even prevent another 1/2 dozen reality shows.
We would also slow the spread of stupidity through breeding, by eliminating stupid people from the gene pool, we reduce the possibilty of idiots breeding with other idiots, breeding a race of 'Super Fools' (socioligists believe this was Hitler's true goal, to breed a 'master race' of complete idiots), think of the crisis that could be averted!
Furthermore, eliminating 400,000 idiots from our population would greatly reduce the strain on our infrastructure and resources, think of the benifits inthe battle against global warming alone, not to mention our dependance on foriegn oil!
Finally, It would have real value as a deterrent, stupid people nation wide would take steps to get educated, build social and reasoning skills or at least get thier shit together to avoid being targeted by the 'Stupid Police'
I don't see how my plan could fail.
What do you think?
Next time;
Getting Maximum value out of the death penalty! (Seroiously)
- The Greeter
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Re; My wife
Something I wanted to say that I forgot to say yesterday but feel is extremely important.
My wife as of today, has been clean and sober for 1year, 2months, and 4 days.
-The Greeter
My wife as of today, has been clean and sober for 1year, 2months, and 4 days.
-The Greeter
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
The story of us; My Wife, How we met, and WTF!
I'm feeling unusually lucid today, and so I think it's a good time to post the promised story of how I met and came to marry my wife.
I wanted to wait to post this until I was in a lucid period because I want you to understand what keeps us together despite the long rants I've posted about her on Fucked Forum and the ones that will eventually (I'm sure) post here.
I love my wife, I really do, and she loves me with a fierce loyalty and determinination that I certainly do not deserve. Truth is I've been quite the fucking asshole!
I met my wife in July 1994, she was basicly homeless, her survival depending on what she could steal. She was a crack smoking hardcore drunk, but I didn't know that yet.
Back then, The Greeter was The Security Guard (this was after I was The Used Car Salesman and The Vending Machine Guy), and the 1st time I met my wife was when I arrested her for shoplifting. I felt something like sympathy for her and kicked her loose before the cops arrived to lock her up, telling her not to come back to the store. I told the police she'd escaped custody.
She began coming around to see me (but never set foot in the store again), after 3 or 4 times I worked up the guts to ask her out (I'd never been a ladies' man and even after more years since I'd buried my fiancee and our son, the pain was still fresh), she agreed.
I picked her up at the 2 bedroom apartment where she was staying with a woman and 8 of her 10 kids(seriously) and thier dog, after just the few minutes I was there, I could plainly see that they treated that mongrel dog better than her. I was freaked by how badly they treated her.
We went out, Hot Dogs and the Jeff Bridges movie "Blown Away", I was alittle upset that she fell asleep during the movie. My mind was still reeling at the way thy were berating and abusing her
She stayed the night, and my judgement was colored further by that.
When I took her home the next day, the people she stayed with were furious about losing thier baysitter/housekeeper/slave for half the day.
She walked me to my truck and I told her to quietly pack her stuff, I'd put her up while she got her shit together.
That was more than 13 years ago.
She was 36 (but claimed 35) when I met her, I was 24 (she claims she wouldn't have gone out with me had she known).
I learned that she'd lost her husband a couple of years prior, and that she'd been living in the streets since then.
She spent most of a year in prison in California for a burglary her husband commited because she didn't want him to die in prison.
I learned that she been an alcohol and drug abuser (pot and crack) since was in her late 20s, but before that she been the guardian of her niece. The girls mother refused to grant her custody and took her away. Less than a year later the girl was dead, the victim of child abuse at the hands of her mother's boyfriend. My future wife began drinking to drown her sorrow, she didn't stop for most of 20 years.
She met her 1st husband in a super market and began moving back and forth between California and New Mexico via freight train and later in an old van he traded drugs for. She has a lot of fond memories of her travels.
He supported them by pulling burglaries and a few robberies when they couldn't get work. She said he preffered to steal rather than work and they'd only get jobs when she raised hell about thier lifestyle.
They were both raging alcoholics who while they were in New Mexico would drink stolen mouthwash on Sundays to get thier fix.
After he was diagnosed with cancer, they were travelling to Arizona and running low on cash, he stole a woman's purse out of a car at a rest area.
A few hours they were pulled over, the purse was still in the van and they were both arrested.
Fearing he'd die in prison, she told police that she stolen the purse, that he knew nothing about and had nothing to do with it. She also had to convince them he was lying to protect her.
She did 9 months in prison while he went to Arizona to stay with his daughter.
He died 2 monthes after she was released. She was with him.
He'd known time was up and asked her to help him bathe and shave. She helped him into his only suit (it had been issued to him upon release from an Illinois prison years before) and they lay together until he died.
Her daughter in law put her on the street the next day.
She cries for him to this day.
Our 1st year together was the hardest, she was drunk a lot of the time selling my stuff in the street sometimes to drink. We had arguements which turned violent when she stared beating me because I would dump her booze, but I stayed with her.
In a year's time she'd beaten me unconcieous(sp?) with a model car, broke my nose at least 6 times, and used a brass ashtray to fracture my jaw on Christmas Eve (I don't recall right now what I got her :). I only hit her once, before I could stop myself, when she broke my nose one night during an argument over me working overtime.
When she'd sober up she'd marvel that I wouldn't fight her, her 1st husband would hit back, they'd both been jailed in Deming New Mexico several times.
Despite everything, we married in August 1995, it's been a rollercoaster ride.
She's stuck with me through everything, nervous breakdowns, violent rages that did hundreds in damage, everything. And I've stuck with her as well, through the drinking, the violence, even as I complain that being with her is like having a developmentally disabled child. She has a Childlike Innocence and ignorance that I find both charming and exasperating.
She has some poblems that I chalk up to years of alcoholism And drug abuse.
Despite the fact that she's a high school graduate, she functions at the level of a gifted 2nd grader overall.
As far as I know she's been faithful to me. It pains me that I can't say the same.
I wanted to wait to post this until I was in a lucid period because I want you to understand what keeps us together despite the long rants I've posted about her on Fucked Forum and the ones that will eventually (I'm sure) post here.
I love my wife, I really do, and she loves me with a fierce loyalty and determinination that I certainly do not deserve. Truth is I've been quite the fucking asshole!
I met my wife in July 1994, she was basicly homeless, her survival depending on what she could steal. She was a crack smoking hardcore drunk, but I didn't know that yet.
Back then, The Greeter was The Security Guard (this was after I was The Used Car Salesman and The Vending Machine Guy), and the 1st time I met my wife was when I arrested her for shoplifting. I felt something like sympathy for her and kicked her loose before the cops arrived to lock her up, telling her not to come back to the store. I told the police she'd escaped custody.
She began coming around to see me (but never set foot in the store again), after 3 or 4 times I worked up the guts to ask her out (I'd never been a ladies' man and even after more years since I'd buried my fiancee and our son, the pain was still fresh), she agreed.
I picked her up at the 2 bedroom apartment where she was staying with a woman and 8 of her 10 kids(seriously) and thier dog, after just the few minutes I was there, I could plainly see that they treated that mongrel dog better than her. I was freaked by how badly they treated her.
We went out, Hot Dogs and the Jeff Bridges movie "Blown Away", I was alittle upset that she fell asleep during the movie. My mind was still reeling at the way thy were berating and abusing her
She stayed the night, and my judgement was colored further by that.
When I took her home the next day, the people she stayed with were furious about losing thier baysitter/housekeeper/slave for half the day.
She walked me to my truck and I told her to quietly pack her stuff, I'd put her up while she got her shit together.
That was more than 13 years ago.
She was 36 (but claimed 35) when I met her, I was 24 (she claims she wouldn't have gone out with me had she known).
I learned that she'd lost her husband a couple of years prior, and that she'd been living in the streets since then.
She spent most of a year in prison in California for a burglary her husband commited because she didn't want him to die in prison.
I learned that she been an alcohol and drug abuser (pot and crack) since was in her late 20s, but before that she been the guardian of her niece. The girls mother refused to grant her custody and took her away. Less than a year later the girl was dead, the victim of child abuse at the hands of her mother's boyfriend. My future wife began drinking to drown her sorrow, she didn't stop for most of 20 years.
She met her 1st husband in a super market and began moving back and forth between California and New Mexico via freight train and later in an old van he traded drugs for. She has a lot of fond memories of her travels.
He supported them by pulling burglaries and a few robberies when they couldn't get work. She said he preffered to steal rather than work and they'd only get jobs when she raised hell about thier lifestyle.
They were both raging alcoholics who while they were in New Mexico would drink stolen mouthwash on Sundays to get thier fix.
After he was diagnosed with cancer, they were travelling to Arizona and running low on cash, he stole a woman's purse out of a car at a rest area.
A few hours they were pulled over, the purse was still in the van and they were both arrested.
Fearing he'd die in prison, she told police that she stolen the purse, that he knew nothing about and had nothing to do with it. She also had to convince them he was lying to protect her.
She did 9 months in prison while he went to Arizona to stay with his daughter.
He died 2 monthes after she was released. She was with him.
He'd known time was up and asked her to help him bathe and shave. She helped him into his only suit (it had been issued to him upon release from an Illinois prison years before) and they lay together until he died.
Her daughter in law put her on the street the next day.
She cries for him to this day.
Our 1st year together was the hardest, she was drunk a lot of the time selling my stuff in the street sometimes to drink. We had arguements which turned violent when she stared beating me because I would dump her booze, but I stayed with her.
In a year's time she'd beaten me unconcieous(sp?) with a model car, broke my nose at least 6 times, and used a brass ashtray to fracture my jaw on Christmas Eve (I don't recall right now what I got her :). I only hit her once, before I could stop myself, when she broke my nose one night during an argument over me working overtime.
When she'd sober up she'd marvel that I wouldn't fight her, her 1st husband would hit back, they'd both been jailed in Deming New Mexico several times.
Despite everything, we married in August 1995, it's been a rollercoaster ride.
She's stuck with me through everything, nervous breakdowns, violent rages that did hundreds in damage, everything. And I've stuck with her as well, through the drinking, the violence, even as I complain that being with her is like having a developmentally disabled child. She has a Childlike Innocence and ignorance that I find both charming and exasperating.
She has some poblems that I chalk up to years of alcoholism And drug abuse.
Despite the fact that she's a high school graduate, she functions at the level of a gifted 2nd grader overall.
As far as I know she's been faithful to me. It pains me that I can't say the same.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Beware of Falling Lawnmowers!
Sorry for te lapse in posting, but I got hurt at work Saturday and I've been taking it easy.
I was hit in the face by a falling lawnmower.
Yes, a FALLING LAWNMOWER!
There I was minding my own business, when a woman tripped and fell at te base of a 10 ft stepladder. An associate was on the ladder retrieving an unbuilt (boxed) lawnmower. I ran to help, but she grabbed the ladder to drag herself up.
The ladder got jostled and the associate lost control of the box, he must've called/cried out or something, because I looked up just in time to catch the falling mower with my face.
Boom Boom, out go the lights!
The next few hours are well, kinda fuzzy, but I'm told it was interesting!
Apparantly I gave a medic a bad scare by breaking into maniacal laughter during the ambulance ride.
They also had to ask me repeatedly to stop singing while they were trying to do my CAT-Scan (who knew I was such a BeeGees fan, I'm told I know all the words to "Night Fever").
The final tally;
I have a concussion (well no shit doc!)
broken nose
3 broken teeth
2 black eyes (and a partridge ina pear tree!)
broken glasses
I fell on the woman, broke her ankle and 2 of her ribs.
I brow beat the doc into a conditional work release and went home, (it's not like I have a physically demanding job). I was at work the next day.
You must understand that we are broke, and I mean rolling pennies for gas broke.
I cannot afford to lose time from work, Worker's Comp. doesn't pay lost time til you miss 7 days, I like having running water and electricity, our car is too small to live in comfortably.
My bosses are concerned.
I didn't tell my wife about the accident (she was in L.A., 1100 miles away, burying her mother, why give her something else to fret over), when she finally arrived home last night, shegot a nasty shock. She's pissed that I didn't tell her, she wants to kick the woman's ass, she wan'ts to kick my ass, she want's to kick Greyhound's ass for losing her luggage for the second time in 6 days, and getting her home 14 hours behind schedule.
She's had a tough week.
So there you go, Life may be hrd for me, but it's not dull.
I promise t post the stories I told you about before, and I will.
LMK which you want to hear first.
-The Greeter
I was hit in the face by a falling lawnmower.
Yes, a FALLING LAWNMOWER!
There I was minding my own business, when a woman tripped and fell at te base of a 10 ft stepladder. An associate was on the ladder retrieving an unbuilt (boxed) lawnmower. I ran to help, but she grabbed the ladder to drag herself up.
The ladder got jostled and the associate lost control of the box, he must've called/cried out or something, because I looked up just in time to catch the falling mower with my face.
Boom Boom, out go the lights!
The next few hours are well, kinda fuzzy, but I'm told it was interesting!
Apparantly I gave a medic a bad scare by breaking into maniacal laughter during the ambulance ride.
They also had to ask me repeatedly to stop singing while they were trying to do my CAT-Scan (who knew I was such a BeeGees fan, I'm told I know all the words to "Night Fever").
The final tally;
I have a concussion (well no shit doc!)
broken nose
3 broken teeth
2 black eyes (and a partridge ina pear tree!)
broken glasses
I fell on the woman, broke her ankle and 2 of her ribs.
I brow beat the doc into a conditional work release and went home, (it's not like I have a physically demanding job). I was at work the next day.
You must understand that we are broke, and I mean rolling pennies for gas broke.
I cannot afford to lose time from work, Worker's Comp. doesn't pay lost time til you miss 7 days, I like having running water and electricity, our car is too small to live in comfortably.
My bosses are concerned.
I didn't tell my wife about the accident (she was in L.A., 1100 miles away, burying her mother, why give her something else to fret over), when she finally arrived home last night, shegot a nasty shock. She's pissed that I didn't tell her, she wants to kick the woman's ass, she wan'ts to kick my ass, she want's to kick Greyhound's ass for losing her luggage for the second time in 6 days, and getting her home 14 hours behind schedule.
She's had a tough week.
So there you go, Life may be hrd for me, but it's not dull.
I promise t post the stories I told you about before, and I will.
LMK which you want to hear first.
-The Greeter
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
I am not a Troll! I'm being attacked at Fucked Forum!
I will be keeping this post comparitively short and I promise to post some good shit in the next few days (I'll offer up a few coming attractions at the end of this post, true stories and observations, I will entertain, shock, and amaze you).
Do me a favor, if you haven't done so yet, go over to http://fuckedforum/bbs/ (I'm not sure if that link will work, I'm not very bright inthe ways of technology), and look at the thread called "I'm a WalMart greeter, ask me anything!" (my handle over there is; U Need a Buggy) and tell me what you think.
I'm currently under attack over there, being accused of trolling.
I am not a Troll, I can understand how people may believe I'm trolling, if I were reading my stories as a casual observer, I'd probably be calling bullshit too.
I can't fully explain my motivation for starting the thread (I started this blog at the suggestion of a poster in that thread who even linked me to Blogspot), I guess I just needed a place to vent, kind of like primal scream therapy.
I've really enjoyed using that thread, venting my anger and frustration, but now I find myself being assaulted by amatuer troll busters, people are trying to get me to post pics, and trick me into revealing PI. It's beginning to piss me off!
I admit that I'm an aspiring writer, that I'd like to make a good living off my words and ideas.
I also don't really know if I'm capable of writing books, I have difficulty staying focused long enough to write the stories I post. I've written as much as 3 chapters only to throw them away when I re-read them a few days later. I may/ may not be my worst critic.
Part of me posting these stories isto get feedback, one of the things I'd like to write isan autobiography, it wasn't my original intent,but I decided I may as well gauge reaction to my true stories since I was already there and already posting the stories anyway.
The response on the board had been generally positive until a few days ago.
Let me say this one more time;
Unless I say different The stories I post are true. I will write fictional stories on this blog, but I'll tell you so when I do. When I post stories told to me as factual, I'll let you know that as well.
You don't know me, I understand that you have no reason to believe me.
I ask you to try and suspend your doubts and have a look at what I write.
Whether you believe or not, I think you'll be entertained, that's not so horrible is it?
My main request from you is that you be nice in your criticism, post what you think, but be kind about it. I haven't done antthing to you.
-The Greeter
Coming Attractions;
My wife and I; The story of us- These stories will prove my insanity if I should ever need to, and possibly establish hers as well.
My wife's story- Her life story is about as fucked up as mine.
My wife's Family- Some of these people truly warrant a seperate blog entry, her brother is a true psycho!
The Hijacking of cab 207!- How I came to be locked for 5 hours in the trunk of a cab, and got caught with my pants down- on live television!
December 6, 2004- The day life as I knew it ended, 2 bullets and $16 !
Mall Cop Stories- Before I was "The Greeter" I was other stuff, my favorite Security guard stories and more!
What I learned as an Entrepenuer- Things I learned as the owner of a cab company
and how I came to own a vending company.
The Greeter's fear of flying-My difference of opinion with the Us Air Force on what Constitutes a cash!
The Greeter's experiences with fire- Things tend to catch fire a lot around me.
Observations, Rants & Raves, Movie Reviews, and all kinds of random shit- exactly what it sounds like.
This and more, presented in no particular order, as the moods hits me.
Feel free to tell me what you want to red about 1st.
Til next time,
-The Greeter
Do me a favor, if you haven't done so yet, go over to http://fuckedforum/bbs/ (I'm not sure if that link will work, I'm not very bright inthe ways of technology), and look at the thread called "I'm a WalMart greeter, ask me anything!" (my handle over there is; U Need a Buggy) and tell me what you think.
I'm currently under attack over there, being accused of trolling.
I am not a Troll, I can understand how people may believe I'm trolling, if I were reading my stories as a casual observer, I'd probably be calling bullshit too.
I can't fully explain my motivation for starting the thread (I started this blog at the suggestion of a poster in that thread who even linked me to Blogspot), I guess I just needed a place to vent, kind of like primal scream therapy.
I've really enjoyed using that thread, venting my anger and frustration, but now I find myself being assaulted by amatuer troll busters, people are trying to get me to post pics, and trick me into revealing PI. It's beginning to piss me off!
I admit that I'm an aspiring writer, that I'd like to make a good living off my words and ideas.
I also don't really know if I'm capable of writing books, I have difficulty staying focused long enough to write the stories I post. I've written as much as 3 chapters only to throw them away when I re-read them a few days later. I may/ may not be my worst critic.
Part of me posting these stories isto get feedback, one of the things I'd like to write isan autobiography, it wasn't my original intent,but I decided I may as well gauge reaction to my true stories since I was already there and already posting the stories anyway.
The response on the board had been generally positive until a few days ago.
Let me say this one more time;
Unless I say different The stories I post are true. I will write fictional stories on this blog, but I'll tell you so when I do. When I post stories told to me as factual, I'll let you know that as well.
You don't know me, I understand that you have no reason to believe me.
I ask you to try and suspend your doubts and have a look at what I write.
Whether you believe or not, I think you'll be entertained, that's not so horrible is it?
My main request from you is that you be nice in your criticism, post what you think, but be kind about it. I haven't done antthing to you.
-The Greeter
Coming Attractions;
My wife and I; The story of us- These stories will prove my insanity if I should ever need to, and possibly establish hers as well.
My wife's story- Her life story is about as fucked up as mine.
My wife's Family- Some of these people truly warrant a seperate blog entry, her brother is a true psycho!
The Hijacking of cab 207!- How I came to be locked for 5 hours in the trunk of a cab, and got caught with my pants down- on live television!
December 6, 2004- The day life as I knew it ended, 2 bullets and $16 !
Mall Cop Stories- Before I was "The Greeter" I was other stuff, my favorite Security guard stories and more!
What I learned as an Entrepenuer- Things I learned as the owner of a cab company
and how I came to own a vending company.
The Greeter's fear of flying-My difference of opinion with the Us Air Force on what Constitutes a cash!
The Greeter's experiences with fire- Things tend to catch fire a lot around me.
Observations, Rants & Raves, Movie Reviews, and all kinds of random shit- exactly what it sounds like.
This and more, presented in no particular order, as the moods hits me.
Feel free to tell me what you want to red about 1st.
Til next time,
-The Greeter
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
My wife's mother died Monday; A Fucked Up Day
My mother is currently dying of cancer, about three weeks ago we had to go to her, we'd been led to believe she was at death's door by my (hopefully) well-meaning aunt.
She is still with us but her time is short. Very short.
This is not exactly on topic, (a story for another day), but I tell you so you'll understand my frame of mind when the phone rang at about 9pm Monday night.
When the rang and I saw the out of state # in the caller ID, I told my CSM that I needed a few minutes even as I answered it. Walking outside, I was preparing myself for the news that my mom had finally passed.
The voice of my wife's aunt filled me with relief, for a few seconds, until I realized that for her to call me at all (we're not on especially good terms) also meant bad news.
I asked if it was her mom or her brother, it could go either way.
Her mother a 77 year old widow with diabetes, diagnosed with congestive heart failure 18 months ago.
Her brother is a 48 year old professional inmate, paroled last year from a 25 year prison sentence, earned for beating his own father into a massive stroke over $100 10 years ago (At that time, he just completed a prison sentence for doing the same thing). An O.G. banger, he survived being shot EIGHT times last year (I'm obviously not the only one who believes the world would be a better place without him in it). He's the one I point to and say; "at least I'm not __________", you know what I mean? ( my wife and her family will be discussed at length in a future entry, truely interesting/fascinating/frightening stories)
My money was on her brother, wrong again. Her heart had simply stopped, she'd died quietly in her sleep. Her aunt called me asking that I break the news gently, face to face.
She took it fairly well, all things considered.
I put her on the Greyhound yesterday afternoon, a 1300 mile, 28 hour odyssey to L.A. to attend her third funeral in three years. Her aunt had to wire us $300 for her ticket.
There was just no way I could've asked them to wire $600 to go with her, plus we couldn't afford the lost time from my job. I wanted to be there for her, but truth be told, I'm relieved to be staying here. The last time her brother and I were together (last year, attending her DAD's funeral) there was an ugly fight, my wife stepped between us, and he shoved her away, she tripped and fractured her pelvis. I wound up with 18 stitches in my head, I broke his arm with a table lamp.
He's vowed on his daughters' life to kill me in the street if I return to L.A., I am not afraid to die, in fact I often wish for my life to end, but I don't want to bring more hardship on my wife or her family. Her brother has a lot to answer for, he'll get his soon enough (I suppose the same cold be said of me), but I don't really think it's appropriate for either of us to go down over what is really a fairly trivial feud.
I loved my mother in law, The time I knew her she was a sweet, generous, tough, mean, crazy ol' broad. I'm told she was a hard woman, and I could see that was likely true watched her and my wife together, visiting her family was hard for my wife, her relationship with her parents was alway strained. They disliked her first husband so much that my wife didn't speak to them for 12 years. I convinced her to patch things up, so she had a decent relationship with them these last 12 years. She's grateful for that.
I'm glad to have known them, and sorry they're gone.
The Greeter
She is still with us but her time is short. Very short.
This is not exactly on topic, (a story for another day), but I tell you so you'll understand my frame of mind when the phone rang at about 9pm Monday night.
When the rang and I saw the out of state # in the caller ID, I told my CSM that I needed a few minutes even as I answered it. Walking outside, I was preparing myself for the news that my mom had finally passed.
The voice of my wife's aunt filled me with relief, for a few seconds, until I realized that for her to call me at all (we're not on especially good terms) also meant bad news.
I asked if it was her mom or her brother, it could go either way.
Her mother a 77 year old widow with diabetes, diagnosed with congestive heart failure 18 months ago.
Her brother is a 48 year old professional inmate, paroled last year from a 25 year prison sentence, earned for beating his own father into a massive stroke over $100 10 years ago (At that time, he just completed a prison sentence for doing the same thing). An O.G. banger, he survived being shot EIGHT times last year (I'm obviously not the only one who believes the world would be a better place without him in it). He's the one I point to and say; "at least I'm not __________", you know what I mean? ( my wife and her family will be discussed at length in a future entry, truely interesting/fascinating/frightening stories)
My money was on her brother, wrong again. Her heart had simply stopped, she'd died quietly in her sleep. Her aunt called me asking that I break the news gently, face to face.
She took it fairly well, all things considered.
I put her on the Greyhound yesterday afternoon, a 1300 mile, 28 hour odyssey to L.A. to attend her third funeral in three years. Her aunt had to wire us $300 for her ticket.
There was just no way I could've asked them to wire $600 to go with her, plus we couldn't afford the lost time from my job. I wanted to be there for her, but truth be told, I'm relieved to be staying here. The last time her brother and I were together (last year, attending her DAD's funeral) there was an ugly fight, my wife stepped between us, and he shoved her away, she tripped and fractured her pelvis. I wound up with 18 stitches in my head, I broke his arm with a table lamp.
He's vowed on his daughters' life to kill me in the street if I return to L.A., I am not afraid to die, in fact I often wish for my life to end, but I don't want to bring more hardship on my wife or her family. Her brother has a lot to answer for, he'll get his soon enough (I suppose the same cold be said of me), but I don't really think it's appropriate for either of us to go down over what is really a fairly trivial feud.
I loved my mother in law, The time I knew her she was a sweet, generous, tough, mean, crazy ol' broad. I'm told she was a hard woman, and I could see that was likely true watched her and my wife together, visiting her family was hard for my wife, her relationship with her parents was alway strained. They disliked her first husband so much that my wife didn't speak to them for 12 years. I convinced her to patch things up, so she had a decent relationship with them these last 12 years. She's grateful for that.
I'm glad to have known them, and sorry they're gone.
The Greeter
Monday, September 24, 2007
My Monday morning, "Better Late Than Never" movie review
I used to work 16-18 hours a day, 364 days a year, I did this for most of 10 years.
It really wasn't worth it in hind sight, sure if I'd been wildly successful, sold my business at a ridiculous profit and moved to Tahiti, I might be singing a different tune.
But Alas, my last remaining taxi was sidelined with $1300 worth of bad tranny, a repair expense I couldn't justify, especially since my wife and I were living in a friend's spare bedroom at the time, I closed my failure of a cab company on January 17,2007. So I'm a little fucking bitter about it.
When they tell you how great it is to run your own business, they sell the best case scenario and gloss over the amazingly rough road you have to take to reach financial independence.
They never tell you how many hitchhikers you'll see on that road, standing next to the smoking ruins of thier dreams, looks of desparation in thier eyes.
I had visions of sitting behind a mahogany desk in a leather chair, taking care of my biz in 7-8 hours a day with weekends off. The reality was me sitting on a toilet with a cellphone in one hand and a wad of toilet paper in the other, memorizing info on yet another $7 trip. Awake for 30 hours, ahead $300 for the day, but $700 in the red for the month. Just something to think about, but I'm getting well away from the point of this entry.
Among the things, I had no time for was leisure activities, and one of the activies I always enjoyed was going to the movies. Working all the time (ALL THE TIME) in a call on demand type biz doesn't lend itself to popping off to the movies though, so I began renting movies. I soon grew tired of paying late return fees on movies I'd never got to watch.
My reasoning was simple;
A night at the movies for 2 people, with tickets, popcorn, nachos, soda, etc. can easily reach $40, without dinner.
I would rent movies, never get to watch them, and pay late fees roughly equivalent to the purchase price.
$20 each for DVDs was pretty easy to justify after that.
Buy it, watch it, if it's great or even good, sweet! If it's the worst piece of shit you've ever seen (The Exorcism of Emily Rose), then think how pissed you'd have been to spend twice as much watching it in a theater. Throw it in the trade or pawn pile and get on with your life.
So I began collecting movies, stockpiling them would be a more accurate description though, because I still didn't have time to watch them.
Soon enough, I had hundreds of dvds, 70% never opened.
When I got shot, upon coming home from the hospital I was watching 2 a day for weeks. To this day I have 2 dozen unwatched movies.
Which brings me to "The Better Late Than Never" movie review.
Today's review;
Lucky # Slevin.
Morgan Freeman, Ben Kingsley, Bruce Willis, Lucy Liu, Josh Hartnett, sounds Like solid cast.
I like action movies , I don't mind thinking a little. This sounded pretty good.
And it was.
It's a good movie, not great, but good.
The plot had a lot of potential, but the writing gives up too much, too soon.
A major key to the plot is too easily picked up less than 15 minutes into the film, if my wife could pick it up (and she did immeadiately), that's a bad sign. Within 45 minutes I had it down, minus a couple of small, but entertaining twists. I'm a reasonably intelligent guy, quite intelligent when you consider I'm a high school dropout, and I had the gist of the big picture before the movie was half over.
The movie is entertaining, but far too predictable.
Ben Kingsley and Morgan Freeman are good, they do well with the fairly weak characters they have to play. Freeman in particular could have done a much better job.
Willis was stuck in a role best described as a very diluted version of his role in "The Jackal", given the writing, I'm comfortable saying that he did as well as anyone could have. That's not really a compliment.
Hartnett was the best of this movie, Hartnett was as good as I've seen him (again, not exactly a compliment).
Liu's character was a little light and fluffy for the movie, and didn't really fit the role,
her character could have been removed without consequence, but she's always fun to watch.
Overall, not a bad movie, good if nothing else is on cable, but not really worth owning unless you're a connisuer(sp?) of all roles of a favorite actor (Iam Actually a collector of Freeman and Willis performances)
2 1/2 out of 5.
Listen I know this one was kinda weak, I'm sick and kinda distracted today.
I'll do better next time
-The Greeter
It really wasn't worth it in hind sight, sure if I'd been wildly successful, sold my business at a ridiculous profit and moved to Tahiti, I might be singing a different tune.
But Alas, my last remaining taxi was sidelined with $1300 worth of bad tranny, a repair expense I couldn't justify, especially since my wife and I were living in a friend's spare bedroom at the time, I closed my failure of a cab company on January 17,2007. So I'm a little fucking bitter about it.
When they tell you how great it is to run your own business, they sell the best case scenario and gloss over the amazingly rough road you have to take to reach financial independence.
They never tell you how many hitchhikers you'll see on that road, standing next to the smoking ruins of thier dreams, looks of desparation in thier eyes.
I had visions of sitting behind a mahogany desk in a leather chair, taking care of my biz in 7-8 hours a day with weekends off. The reality was me sitting on a toilet with a cellphone in one hand and a wad of toilet paper in the other, memorizing info on yet another $7 trip. Awake for 30 hours, ahead $300 for the day, but $700 in the red for the month. Just something to think about, but I'm getting well away from the point of this entry.
Among the things, I had no time for was leisure activities, and one of the activies I always enjoyed was going to the movies. Working all the time (ALL THE TIME) in a call on demand type biz doesn't lend itself to popping off to the movies though, so I began renting movies. I soon grew tired of paying late return fees on movies I'd never got to watch.
My reasoning was simple;
A night at the movies for 2 people, with tickets, popcorn, nachos, soda, etc. can easily reach $40, without dinner.
I would rent movies, never get to watch them, and pay late fees roughly equivalent to the purchase price.
$20 each for DVDs was pretty easy to justify after that.
Buy it, watch it, if it's great or even good, sweet! If it's the worst piece of shit you've ever seen (The Exorcism of Emily Rose), then think how pissed you'd have been to spend twice as much watching it in a theater. Throw it in the trade or pawn pile and get on with your life.
So I began collecting movies, stockpiling them would be a more accurate description though, because I still didn't have time to watch them.
Soon enough, I had hundreds of dvds, 70% never opened.
When I got shot, upon coming home from the hospital I was watching 2 a day for weeks. To this day I have 2 dozen unwatched movies.
Which brings me to "The Better Late Than Never" movie review.
Today's review;
Lucky # Slevin.
Morgan Freeman, Ben Kingsley, Bruce Willis, Lucy Liu, Josh Hartnett, sounds Like solid cast.
I like action movies , I don't mind thinking a little. This sounded pretty good.
And it was.
It's a good movie, not great, but good.
The plot had a lot of potential, but the writing gives up too much, too soon.
A major key to the plot is too easily picked up less than 15 minutes into the film, if my wife could pick it up (and she did immeadiately), that's a bad sign. Within 45 minutes I had it down, minus a couple of small, but entertaining twists. I'm a reasonably intelligent guy, quite intelligent when you consider I'm a high school dropout, and I had the gist of the big picture before the movie was half over.
The movie is entertaining, but far too predictable.
Ben Kingsley and Morgan Freeman are good, they do well with the fairly weak characters they have to play. Freeman in particular could have done a much better job.
Willis was stuck in a role best described as a very diluted version of his role in "The Jackal", given the writing, I'm comfortable saying that he did as well as anyone could have. That's not really a compliment.
Hartnett was the best of this movie, Hartnett was as good as I've seen him (again, not exactly a compliment).
Liu's character was a little light and fluffy for the movie, and didn't really fit the role,
her character could have been removed without consequence, but she's always fun to watch.
Overall, not a bad movie, good if nothing else is on cable, but not really worth owning unless you're a connisuer(sp?) of all roles of a favorite actor (Iam Actually a collector of Freeman and Willis performances)
2 1/2 out of 5.
Listen I know this one was kinda weak, I'm sick and kinda distracted today.
I'll do better next time
-The Greeter
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Maybe not 'the funniest', but damn funny cab passenger story (by Request)
This would have been Oct. or Nov 2000.
I'm sent to pick up at a bar in Peoria Az called The Sun City Deli.
I walk in and here's a guy arguing with this hot lady bartender, completely shit faced and beligerent, so of course this asshole is my fare.
She'd taken his keys, he'd broken some glasses, she wanted him out.
I said "No Way!"
She flashed a smile that left me wondering why she was tending bar instead of living the high life somewhere and said "Please get him outta here, I don't want the cops in here."
The next thing I know I'm loading this big drunken shitbag into the back of my cab.
He's so drunk he can't (or wont) give me his address, wants me to to take him to The Escape Hatch bar. "Nope, sorry fella, gotta take you home, you're too drunk for bar hopping"
He finally hands me his driver's license, "Take me there."
The address is pretty close, no more than a few miles, I'm thinking 'Dead drunk, abusive asshole, gonna have to haul him out like I hauled him in, for $7, Oh Joy'
We pull up to the 1st light and from the back I hear/feel/smell a massive belch.
"I'm not paying"
"What" I said, wheeling toward the curb.
I ain't paying no fucking cab ride! I didn't call you, they called you! they're gonna pay you, cause I ain't paying shit!
I stopped the car.
"Why you stopping?"
"Pay or Walk! You don't want to pay, get out."
"I ain't getting out and I ain't paying you shit, take me back to my car!"
"You'll pay or you'll get out, don't wanna get out? I'll help you, you wont like it."
"I'll pay, just take me home"
"Fine"
I'm thinking I should have just 86'd his ass and called it a day, but no, this big dumb shit would've gotten himself hit by a car or something.
As I put the car in gear he tells me he doesn't have money, I throw the car back in park and grab my Mag-Lite (every cabbie should have a Mag-Lite, the bigger, the better, mine was the biggest 4 D-cell job they made, perfect for lighting the way, and on the spot attitude adjustments! Aircraft grade aluminum, american made! RA!)
"I got a credit card."
"Fine"
I turned the car around heading fora market we'd just passed, explaining we neede pre-authorization for credit cards so we needed a pay phone, I have a cell, but I really want this dickhead in a public well lit place so I can ditch him in good conciense(sp?) if I have to.
He gets out and staggers to the payphone, addressing it like he's never seen one before and realize he's too drunk to dial it. Okay, fine.
I dial the # and read the CC info to the dispatcher, estimating a $16 fare for authorization.
"You told him there's a $10 minimum fare on plastic right?"
No, it'll be over $10 anyway."
"You have to tell him, its the law now."
Well Fuck! I explain to him about the min. fare on the card and he just fucking loses it!
He just punches me right in the face, we're grappling, he's got me pinned to the phone, just wailing on me! I knee'd him in the balls and ran for my car, locking myself inside.
Unbeknownst to me the dispatcher had called the police.
so I'm lighting a smoke with a badly shaking hand when a rap on the passenger window scares the shit outta me.
"Are you free?" asked the little old lady with a cart full of groceries.
"I ain't free, but I'm cheap" my standard answer to that question, she laughed so hard I was afraid she'd drop dead on me, I popped the trunk and helped her load up.
Meanwhile my drunken buddy was screaming into the phone, and screaming at her that I'd rape her if she wasn't careful. We got inthe cab, I radioed that I'd 10-13'd (ejected unruly fare) the drunk, and picked up a flag at the same location.
Just as I'm about to put the car in gear she hands up a wallet, Aw SHIT!
" Is this his wallet?"
I took the wallet and looked inside, yup, it's his, and this lying drunken prick had at least $500 cash inside!
My 1st instinct (the one I should've went with) was to say no, drive her home, pocket the cash as an "Asshole Tax", drop the wallet in a blue box, and get on with my life.
But NO! Like an IDIOT, I get out with his wallet in one hand, my Mag-Lite in the other, low down by my leg (I'm not completely stupid), and proceed with my good deed of the day, Goddamn I'm dumb!
He takes the wallet, screams that I robbed him and begins beating me with the phone reciever, just ripped it out of the phone. Now I hit this fucker upside his head with everything I had, several times! It didn't even faze him, he grabbed the light and threw it at me!
I'm retreating, he's advancing, Igrabbed my Stungun and drained it on him! Nothing!!
I'm thinking I'm fighting the Terminanter on a meth binge!
He's got me over the hood of my my cab, grappling, I'm just trying to keep hold of his hands while I figure out how to get my tactical knife from the scabbard around my neck, knowing if I fuck that up he'll shove it up my ass!
At the same time I feel the car shaking and I hear this shrieking that I pray isn't me , I look at the windshield, and see that little old lady! She's ricocheting around inthe cab like a superball in an oildrum, the radio mike in her hand, screaming;
"HHEEEEE'SSSSSS KKIIILLLIIINNNGGG HHHIIIIMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I couldn't help but laugh, this distracted my attacker long enough for me to shove him off me, I grabbed the knife from arond my neck, slashing the air in front of him if he tried to advance!
All of a sudden every cop in Peoria shows up at once, rarely have I been happier to see a cop!
It was like someone threw a switch, the dude was all of a sudden Mr. Congeniality, just the friendliest homicidal maniac you'd ever wanna meet!
They seperate us and get our versions of the story, mine the truth, with an unimpeachable witness.
His is a twisted tale that makes me out to be criminal mastermind the likes of Kaiser Soze. I'd been padding the meter, driving him around aimlessly, then I'd lifted his wallet while he was on the phone, the old lady was in on it of course, she's my girlfriend(nevermind the age difference of like 85 years), already in the car when He got in.
He wanted me arrested, for robbery and assault, maybe attempted murder!
He's standing there, barely a scratch (well the left side of his head was kinda lumpy from the flashlight, but compared to me), I looked like I'd been drug down 5 miles of bad road, broken nose, 2 sprung fingers, bleeding all over my head , shirt torn half off, glasses broke,shakin so bad I couldn't light a smoke, no one had even asked if I needed a medic.
Then they found out he was a Peoria city planner, that seemed to change everything and Quick!
I was informed that if I wanted him charged, they'd arrest me as well and impound the cab for safe keeping. I threw up my hands and got in the car. The old lady was furious.
I soothed her best I could considering I was about to burst a vessel myself.
I started the cab, and was about to shift into reverse when;
"Son, do I owe you that much?" Sure enough the meter reads like $39.00 I love that old lady!
I'm bouncing outta the car, waving at the officer.
"What about the $40 he owes me? It don't matter who he is, Ican prove he owes me $40 bucks, and if he don't pay, you have to arrest him for theft!"
After much yelling, flailing of arms, gnashing of teeth, etc. the fellow was made to understand that he had to pay! An officer walked toward me with a $100 bill.
"$40 bucks.", the officer said.
"What? No tip?"
"$40 bucks."
"Well, would your esteemed city planner like a reciept?" I asked as I began making change.
I glanced up and saw the drunk approaching me.
As I moved my head, indicating his approach with my chin, he began hawking up a big ol' loogie, the officer began to turn, I knew what was coming next, but wouldn't have stopped it if I could've.
As the officer turned he stepped beween me and the city planner - and caught the loogie full in the face!
In a flash 2 officers face planted his ass on the asphalt and cuffed him!
The officer, wiping his face handed me back the $60 change.
"Have a nice evening sir, sorry for your inconvienence."
I laughed all the way back to the car.
"That was so exciting, just like on COPS! I can't wait to tell the bridge club!"
I love that old lady, she rode for free!
My brother was a paramedic, he fixed me up and after a shower and a change of clothes, I finished the shift.
The Mag-Lite had been bent, a slight arch in the body of the light that was subtle, but prevented me from removing the batteries, It stood on my desk until our house burned down 2 years later.
I eventually won a $7500 settlement from the drunk.
I laugh myself sick everytime I think of this incident.
I'm sent to pick up at a bar in Peoria Az called The Sun City Deli.
I walk in and here's a guy arguing with this hot lady bartender, completely shit faced and beligerent, so of course this asshole is my fare.
She'd taken his keys, he'd broken some glasses, she wanted him out.
I said "No Way!"
She flashed a smile that left me wondering why she was tending bar instead of living the high life somewhere and said "Please get him outta here, I don't want the cops in here."
The next thing I know I'm loading this big drunken shitbag into the back of my cab.
He's so drunk he can't (or wont) give me his address, wants me to to take him to The Escape Hatch bar. "Nope, sorry fella, gotta take you home, you're too drunk for bar hopping"
He finally hands me his driver's license, "Take me there."
The address is pretty close, no more than a few miles, I'm thinking 'Dead drunk, abusive asshole, gonna have to haul him out like I hauled him in, for $7, Oh Joy'
We pull up to the 1st light and from the back I hear/feel/smell a massive belch.
"I'm not paying"
"What" I said, wheeling toward the curb.
I ain't paying no fucking cab ride! I didn't call you, they called you! they're gonna pay you, cause I ain't paying shit!
I stopped the car.
"Why you stopping?"
"Pay or Walk! You don't want to pay, get out."
"I ain't getting out and I ain't paying you shit, take me back to my car!"
"You'll pay or you'll get out, don't wanna get out? I'll help you, you wont like it."
"I'll pay, just take me home"
"Fine"
I'm thinking I should have just 86'd his ass and called it a day, but no, this big dumb shit would've gotten himself hit by a car or something.
As I put the car in gear he tells me he doesn't have money, I throw the car back in park and grab my Mag-Lite (every cabbie should have a Mag-Lite, the bigger, the better, mine was the biggest 4 D-cell job they made, perfect for lighting the way, and on the spot attitude adjustments! Aircraft grade aluminum, american made! RA!)
"I got a credit card."
"Fine"
I turned the car around heading fora market we'd just passed, explaining we neede pre-authorization for credit cards so we needed a pay phone, I have a cell, but I really want this dickhead in a public well lit place so I can ditch him in good conciense(sp?) if I have to.
He gets out and staggers to the payphone, addressing it like he's never seen one before and realize he's too drunk to dial it. Okay, fine.
I dial the # and read the CC info to the dispatcher, estimating a $16 fare for authorization.
"You told him there's a $10 minimum fare on plastic right?"
No, it'll be over $10 anyway."
"You have to tell him, its the law now."
Well Fuck! I explain to him about the min. fare on the card and he just fucking loses it!
He just punches me right in the face, we're grappling, he's got me pinned to the phone, just wailing on me! I knee'd him in the balls and ran for my car, locking myself inside.
Unbeknownst to me the dispatcher had called the police.
so I'm lighting a smoke with a badly shaking hand when a rap on the passenger window scares the shit outta me.
"Are you free?" asked the little old lady with a cart full of groceries.
"I ain't free, but I'm cheap" my standard answer to that question, she laughed so hard I was afraid she'd drop dead on me, I popped the trunk and helped her load up.
Meanwhile my drunken buddy was screaming into the phone, and screaming at her that I'd rape her if she wasn't careful. We got inthe cab, I radioed that I'd 10-13'd (ejected unruly fare) the drunk, and picked up a flag at the same location.
Just as I'm about to put the car in gear she hands up a wallet, Aw SHIT!
" Is this his wallet?"
I took the wallet and looked inside, yup, it's his, and this lying drunken prick had at least $500 cash inside!
My 1st instinct (the one I should've went with) was to say no, drive her home, pocket the cash as an "Asshole Tax", drop the wallet in a blue box, and get on with my life.
But NO! Like an IDIOT, I get out with his wallet in one hand, my Mag-Lite in the other, low down by my leg (I'm not completely stupid), and proceed with my good deed of the day, Goddamn I'm dumb!
He takes the wallet, screams that I robbed him and begins beating me with the phone reciever, just ripped it out of the phone. Now I hit this fucker upside his head with everything I had, several times! It didn't even faze him, he grabbed the light and threw it at me!
I'm retreating, he's advancing, Igrabbed my Stungun and drained it on him! Nothing!!
I'm thinking I'm fighting the Terminanter on a meth binge!
He's got me over the hood of my my cab, grappling, I'm just trying to keep hold of his hands while I figure out how to get my tactical knife from the scabbard around my neck, knowing if I fuck that up he'll shove it up my ass!
At the same time I feel the car shaking and I hear this shrieking that I pray isn't me , I look at the windshield, and see that little old lady! She's ricocheting around inthe cab like a superball in an oildrum, the radio mike in her hand, screaming;
"HHEEEEE'SSSSSS KKIIILLLIIINNNGGG HHHIIIIMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I couldn't help but laugh, this distracted my attacker long enough for me to shove him off me, I grabbed the knife from arond my neck, slashing the air in front of him if he tried to advance!
All of a sudden every cop in Peoria shows up at once, rarely have I been happier to see a cop!
It was like someone threw a switch, the dude was all of a sudden Mr. Congeniality, just the friendliest homicidal maniac you'd ever wanna meet!
They seperate us and get our versions of the story, mine the truth, with an unimpeachable witness.
His is a twisted tale that makes me out to be criminal mastermind the likes of Kaiser Soze. I'd been padding the meter, driving him around aimlessly, then I'd lifted his wallet while he was on the phone, the old lady was in on it of course, she's my girlfriend(nevermind the age difference of like 85 years), already in the car when He got in.
He wanted me arrested, for robbery and assault, maybe attempted murder!
He's standing there, barely a scratch (well the left side of his head was kinda lumpy from the flashlight, but compared to me), I looked like I'd been drug down 5 miles of bad road, broken nose, 2 sprung fingers, bleeding all over my head , shirt torn half off, glasses broke,shakin so bad I couldn't light a smoke, no one had even asked if I needed a medic.
Then they found out he was a Peoria city planner, that seemed to change everything and Quick!
I was informed that if I wanted him charged, they'd arrest me as well and impound the cab for safe keeping. I threw up my hands and got in the car. The old lady was furious.
I soothed her best I could considering I was about to burst a vessel myself.
I started the cab, and was about to shift into reverse when;
"Son, do I owe you that much?" Sure enough the meter reads like $39.00 I love that old lady!
I'm bouncing outta the car, waving at the officer.
"What about the $40 he owes me? It don't matter who he is, Ican prove he owes me $40 bucks, and if he don't pay, you have to arrest him for theft!"
After much yelling, flailing of arms, gnashing of teeth, etc. the fellow was made to understand that he had to pay! An officer walked toward me with a $100 bill.
"$40 bucks.", the officer said.
"What? No tip?"
"$40 bucks."
"Well, would your esteemed city planner like a reciept?" I asked as I began making change.
I glanced up and saw the drunk approaching me.
As I moved my head, indicating his approach with my chin, he began hawking up a big ol' loogie, the officer began to turn, I knew what was coming next, but wouldn't have stopped it if I could've.
As the officer turned he stepped beween me and the city planner - and caught the loogie full in the face!
In a flash 2 officers face planted his ass on the asphalt and cuffed him!
The officer, wiping his face handed me back the $60 change.
"Have a nice evening sir, sorry for your inconvienence."
I laughed all the way back to the car.
"That was so exciting, just like on COPS! I can't wait to tell the bridge club!"
I love that old lady, she rode for free!
My brother was a paramedic, he fixed me up and after a shower and a change of clothes, I finished the shift.
The Mag-Lite had been bent, a slight arch in the body of the light that was subtle, but prevented me from removing the batteries, It stood on my desk until our house burned down 2 years later.
I eventually won a $7500 settlement from the drunk.
I laugh myself sick everytime I think of this incident.
I've got hundreds of stories, good and bad, about all aspects of my life, from funny cab driver stories, to dumb shit my wife does (her shit could be it's own blog, but I still love the crazy bitch), to commentary on the world today as observed by me as I work at the the sprawling corporate monster that is WalMart. You need a buggy?
Got a story request? Lay it on me. If I don't have a personal story, I'll try to make something up, but I'll always let you know the difference, I'll always tell the truth here (if only here), and I'll always tell you if I'm writing a story rather than telling one.
Let's do it.
Got a story request? Lay it on me. If I don't have a personal story, I'll try to make something up, but I'll always let you know the difference, I'll always tell the truth here (if only here), and I'll always tell you if I'm writing a story rather than telling one.
Let's do it.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Welcome To; I'm a WalMart greeter ask me anything
Welcome to my blog, started at the suggestion of a couple of posters in my thread of the same name at Fucked Forum.
I've never had or even posted to a blog before, so I'll be learning as I go.
I'm a WalMart greeter, but I used to own a taxi service and a vending machine business in Phoenix Arizona, I am the most completely fucked up person I know.
I'll come here regularly (daily if all goes well) and post, rant, and remenis(sp?).
Please feel free to ask any question you wish, so long as it doesn't violate my only 2 rules*, I'll answer it truthfully as soon as I can.
*The 2 rules;
1)I will not answer any question, post any pic, etc. that discloses my identity. There are nasty fuckers out there who would seek to ruin what little remains of my life, only because they can.
2)I will not answer any question, post any pic, etc. that identifies where I live. Same basic reasons. Nothing personal, but I've watched people destroy other people for sport.
Other than that, it's no holds barred, ask me anything about anything.
About me;
I am a 37 year old hetrosexual male, a WalMart greeter in a smallish town, I am a rapid cycling Bi-polar with Intermittent explosive disorder, I have been on disabilit twice as a result, I have recieved no treatment whatsoever since March '03, I left Phoenix after losing my business and home, I've been married 12 years.
I was crippled and disfigured by an armed robber in 2004, in 1990 I won 50k in the Arizona Lottery, which I used to buy a vending company.
I was physically and emotionally abused by my parents, at age 12 I was gangraped by 4 teen boys.
I have attempted suicide several times, I used to be a cutter, the worse of those scars are now covered by tattoos. I currently have thoughts of suicide, I also have violent thoughts towards family, former "friends" and co-workers..
There that should be enough to get you started, ask any question, I'll answer ASAP in the order recieved.
GO!!!!!!!
The Greeter
I've never had or even posted to a blog before, so I'll be learning as I go.
I'm a WalMart greeter, but I used to own a taxi service and a vending machine business in Phoenix Arizona, I am the most completely fucked up person I know.
I'll come here regularly (daily if all goes well) and post, rant, and remenis(sp?).
Please feel free to ask any question you wish, so long as it doesn't violate my only 2 rules*, I'll answer it truthfully as soon as I can.
*The 2 rules;
1)I will not answer any question, post any pic, etc. that discloses my identity. There are nasty fuckers out there who would seek to ruin what little remains of my life, only because they can.
2)I will not answer any question, post any pic, etc. that identifies where I live. Same basic reasons. Nothing personal, but I've watched people destroy other people for sport.
Other than that, it's no holds barred, ask me anything about anything.
About me;
I am a 37 year old hetrosexual male, a WalMart greeter in a smallish town, I am a rapid cycling Bi-polar with Intermittent explosive disorder, I have been on disabilit twice as a result, I have recieved no treatment whatsoever since March '03, I left Phoenix after losing my business and home, I've been married 12 years.
I was crippled and disfigured by an armed robber in 2004, in 1990 I won 50k in the Arizona Lottery, which I used to buy a vending company.
I was physically and emotionally abused by my parents, at age 12 I was gangraped by 4 teen boys.
I have attempted suicide several times, I used to be a cutter, the worse of those scars are now covered by tattoos. I currently have thoughts of suicide, I also have violent thoughts towards family, former "friends" and co-workers..
There that should be enough to get you started, ask any question, I'll answer ASAP in the order recieved.
GO!!!!!!!
The Greeter
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