Misanthropic Musings

DDJ: is fish seafood?

2007-09-28T11:20:52Z

So, C.M. is currently running a $10-off any seafood item coupon, and the idiots are crawling out of the woodwork.
Today's example:

A girl approached the counter, coupon in hand, and said, "Hi, I have this coupon for $10-off any seafood item. Does that work for fish?"

DDJ From Sunday

2007-09-25T03:38:08Z

A woman approached me Sunday afternoon, and asked me what days the crabmeat gets delivered.
"We receive deliveries just about every day except for Monday," I said.
"So, will you get some more in tomorrow?" She asked
"Noooo," I replied, speaking extra-slow for her brainless benefit, "Tomorrow... is... Monday."

World of WarCRACK

2007-09-14T08:32:06Z

Holy Cyber-Junkie, Batman! I have been spending every minute of my free time (basically, whenever my daughter's sleeping) geeked out on WoW. I've finally become so saturated with it that I'm able to momentarily tear myself away and engage in other personal pursuits (like LJ). So, I guess it goes without saying that we FINALLY got the computer that we were supposed to get two months ago. I won't go into detail about the convoluted maze of red tape we had to navigate, or about the hours our dear friend Wewelsburg spent making sure that everything was functional (thankyouthankyouthankyou!). Suffice it to say that we are technologically where we want to be. WoW is obviously running smoothly, and my iPod is greedily sucking my CD collection into itself like a bottomless sponge--I have something like 300 songs on it right now, and I don't even think I've yet hit the 10%-full marker. I love it.

Kris is not quite so overwhelmed with school now that our machine functions and she doesn't have to make the trek downtown to use the college computer lab.

The child is continuing to develop in the ways previously mentioned. Last night, before she went to bed, she pulled the pacifier from her mouth, looked at me, and very clearly stated: "I got the cookie dough." I have no idea what she meant by that, but she was apparently content that I got the message, as she replaced the pacifier, lay down, and closed her eyes. Parenthood is easily one of the most amazing things I've ever experienced, and I am constantly floored by the reality that this is a little human being developing before my eyes, whose development is being guided and shaped by my interactions with her.

And can I get a resounding yawn for our boy Humberto? My mom called on Wednesday, leaving a worried message on my voice mail about the tropical storm on our doorstep. It kind of annoyed me. First off, for the amount of time we lived in New Orleans (and surrounding areas), not to mention our yearly timeshare in Biloxi, my family has weathered worse storms than Humberto. I mean, hurricanes were as much a part of my life growing up as snowstorms are for the New English, or as droughts are for Californians. In other words, the hurricane-experience has been imprinted upon me, and in the grand tradition of my family, I'm not gonna budge for anything below a Cat-3. Apologies to anyone with bitter memories, but I actually enjoy hurricanes. I love big powerful storms. Always have. Anyway, the other thing that annoyed me was that here in Houston, it has rained nearly every day for the past three months. Am I really going to be that concerned about one more storm system? Anyway, the amusing irony is that on Thursday morning, after noting a distinct lack of overnight storm activity, I called up the Weather page, only to find that Humberto was chilling right on top of Baton Rouge (where my mom lives). Dammit. Now I feel guilty for laughing. I should probably get in touch with her.

Anyway, that's about all for now. I'll sign off with an overheard dumbass from a few days back. On the weekends, we set up a sort of express-lane shrimp and crab stand situated between Meat and Seafood. I love to man it, 'cause I get to hear all kinds of idiotic things. Like this:

A woman approached the Meat counter and said, "I really like the way these ribeyes look. Would it be okay for me to grill those?"

Dreams

2007-09-02T08:49:29Z

I've been having some very vivid dreams over the past couple of months (I blame the Sirian influence of the Dog Days), and I have a separate dream journal, but this one from last night was so goddamned off the wall I thought I'd share...

In the dream, I am a renegade Jedi space-pirate, and I've just hijacked the "Heart of Gold," taking Zaphod Beeblebrox hostage. We're docked on some remote station, and I'm trying to figure out how to secure my luggage to the roof so that it will survive the infinite improbability jump, when I'm attacked by a "real" Jedi. His initial blaster-shot misses, and I jam the gun with a mind-trick before he can squeeze off another shot. Zaphod scampers off to cower under the gangplank, and my opponent and I activate our lightsabers and leap at each other. We strike simultaneously. He severs the fingers from my left hand, and I take off the top half of his head. The dream ends with Zaphod in a nurse's uniform sewing my fingers back on.

It's always nice to wake up laughing.

Updates (and a DDJ)

2007-08-30T09:19:40Z

Let's see, where to start? How 'bout with the ever-present technology problem. We got the XP software in the mail earlier this week. We're still waiting on the new CPU, though. I'd love to be able to use the 80gig ipod that Kris got me for my birthday.

I'm beginning to think that I exude some sort of entropic field (y'know, like an aura, but one that kills stuff). I've never had good luck with electronic equipment. Watches last a matter of months on my wrist (which is why I only wear cheap WalMart watches), the badass stereo Kris got me for Xmas that rips CDs onto an MP3 Player committed USB-suicide after 6 months, so now I have a really nice CD player. Our DVD player is on its deathbed and I'm pretty sure I saw its little LED screen tell me to go fuck myself before it refused to play the last DVD I tried to insert into it. Hell, the 80 gig ipod that has not left its box yet is actually a replacement for the original one whose circuits fried within five minutes of being in my possession.

The Hellbeast is spending less time on four legs and more on two, and (I'm sure this is just coincidence... really) I've started to notice gray hair in my beard. She's getting vocal, practicing all kinds of new sounds. It's funny to watch her practice. 'Cause that's what she's doing. It's what she did with every milestone. She'd practice 'till she got the hang of it, then spring it on us out of the blue. Odds and ends come out in the proper context, but are not repeated. Once, while feeding her a few weeks back, she was sitting on my lap as gave her a break from eating, and in the stream of babble, she very clearly said "hungry." While I was changing a poopy diaper recently, she gleefully uttered the word "shit." And, while feeding herself in her high chair, she pronounced the word "done," just before tossing her plate over the edge and onto the floor.

I got a call at home the other day from my boss at work to inform me that our department had just been inspected by the government HACCP inspector. This is relevant to me because as the night lead, and as a HACCP-certified food handler, I'm in charge of keeping that place clean according to government specs. I was delighted to hear that we scored perfect--no easy task, that. In fact we were the only seafood market in the HEB empire that didn't get any violations. The inspector (and if you've ever worked in foodservice, you know how stingy with the praise these folks can be) told John that whomever is keeping this place clean needs to be travelling to the other divisions and training them. So, that gave me a warm 'n' fuzzy.

On the writing front, I somehow opened the floodgates on an amazing idea that will yield me yet another series, and I've been completely immersed in that during my free time. I only fear that it won't be immediately marketable. (Un?)Fortunately, that concern takes a backseat to the pressing need to write this stuff down and make it real.

Other than that, it's business as usual.
Also, since I haven't seen ChefManny post this one, I'm stealing it:

C.M. has a staff of folks called "Foodies" who roam throughout the store, help people find items, and help with recipes. Our dumbass approached one of our Foodies with a recipe card in hand. Indicating a line of print on the card, the dumbass said, "Hi, I've just been up and down your salt aisle, and I can't find the 'Teaspoon Salt.'"

DDJ: Save the whales... eat dolphin!

2007-08-24T10:40:08Z

Towards the end of the night, a guy walked in with his wife in tow, and wanted to know whether or not we carried dolphin. Suspicious, I scrutinized him, suspecting that I was being had.
"Nooo," I said, "we do not carry dolphin."
"Shit," he said, "do you know of anyplace that does carry dolphin?"
I assured him that I did not, and he seemed pretty upset about it, saying that he had recently eaten dolphin in a restaurant, and that it was some of the best seafood he had ever had. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, figuring dolphin might be on the menu someplace like Japan, I asked him where the restaurant was.
"Oh, somewhere off F.M. 1960," he said. Here. In Houston.
Still trying to be patient, I asked him if what he had was in fact "dolphin fish," or Mahi Mahi, but he was quite adamant that it was actual dolphin. He then proceeded to bitch about how whenever he found something he liked, he could never get it on a regular basis, and why the hell didn't anyone carry dolphin?
"Weeellll," I said, "you're probably having a hard time finding it because it's a protected species. It's sorta illegal to catch, kill, and sell dolphin in a restaurant or grocery store."
He shot me a dirty look, and stormed off, muttering about finding somebody who knew what the hell he was talking about.
I probably should've spent less time trying to talk sense into him, and more time flirting with his wife, who was cute, and who probably would've appreciated attention from somebody with an IQ in triple digits.
Oh well, maybe next time... when he comes in looking for baby seal steaks.

Updates

2007-08-21T10:13:21Z

Well, my birthday is tomorrow (technically, I guess it's today, but since I'm the only person in this hemisphere who's awake right now, tomorrow it shall be), and thirty looms ever nearer. I don't have any plans beyond going to the bank to deposit the haul from my parents, and gaming with Tom 'n' Mina in the evening. I wonder if Kris has anything nefarious planned. I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

Our techno-nightmare continues, as we are still waiting for the new new computer. BTW, did I mention that the speakers no longer function?

Kris had her first day of school (for her teaching certification) today/yesterday, and she's already bemoaning the amount of homework she has to do. I tell her to take it one thing at a time, but y'all know how easily she gets overwhelmed by the big picture. If folks were to subtlely insinuate how proud they are of her for taking the initiative to follow her dream, such insinuations would probably be well received (hint, hint).

Also, in doing some random journal-hopping, I see other parents devoting loads of cyberspace to the documentation of their childrens' activities. So, to appease my inner Jiminy Cricket, I must announce to the world that our li'l G.B.M. has begun to walk. She took her first unassisted steps outside of the playpen on August 8, and she has progressed from those wobbly drunken-midget beginnings to being able to actually cross the length of the living room before having to latch onto a furniture-anchor. And, yes, it is a fucking riot to watch her jam out to music.

So, I guess that's it. I'm off to cook Kris her breakfast, then to bed I go.

Back Online (Tentatively)

2007-08-16T10:04:06Z

Just a quick note to say we're back online. Sadly, that's about all our (P.)O.S. will allow us to do. Kris and I are awaiting a new computer with XP to replace this new computer. For those of you who are technologically-inept primates (like me), I offer the following public service announcement:
VISTA SUCKS DEAD DONKEY BALLS!!!!!!!

Anyway, here's a dumbass from a while back:

A girl approaches the counter and wants oysters. Fortunately, we have shucked as well as live oysters. As I'm bagging her oysters, she leans forward and says, "Those are real oysters, right? I mean, they're not... testicles, are they?"
I look up smiling, only to see that she is deadly serious and very concerned. From that point on, allaying her fears was only my secondary goal. I realized that I would probably never get another chance like this, so I took it as my god-given duty to henceforth use the word "testicle" as many times as I could.
"Well, ma'am," I say, "While we are not a grocery store proper, but are rather a 'specialty foods store,' I don't doubt that we may have testicles somewhere for the discerning testicle connoseur. However, were we to display testicles, we would not label them as oysters when they are really testicles. We would, in fact, call the testicles testicles. So, to answer your question, yes. These are oysters, not testicles. Are you looking for testicles, though?"
She shakes her head vehemently and blushes.
"Well, I was just going to offer that if you were looking for testicles, I could phone one of the grocery boys, and he could probably tell me whether or not we carry testicles, and if so, whether or not the brand of testicle we carry is the brand of testicle you're looking for."
"No, that's all right," she giggles, then rushes off.
For those of you not keeping track, the Testicle Count stands at 12.

Still Online...

2007-08-03T05:31:26Z

So, obviously, I'm still online. Thanx to Halo for the suggestion about circumventing my job's draconian security settings. Unfortunately it didn't work. Also obviously, I changed my journal format--I wanted to be able to see my userpics as well as my tags, and let's face it, this template is frikkin cool.

Got a fresh dumbass today. It's not often the dumbass makes me feel like one...

A lady approaches, wanting scallops...
DDJ: Yes, I'd like some scallops, please.
ME: O.K. How much do you want?
DDJ: I'd like twenty please. Can you do that? I mean, can you count twenty scallops?
ME (examining my fingers and counting them): Well, ma'am, I'll try to do my best. I may need to take my shoes off, though.

THIS MAY BE THE LAST ENTRY I POST!!!! ...for a week or two, at any rate

2007-08-02T10:57:37Z

Kris and I just got our badass new computer today, and if I know my lovably compulsive wife, she'll probably assemble it tomorrow while I'm at work. She'll probably also cut off our ancient dialup ISP in favor of something a little more this-century. So, I'll probably be out of pocket until our new high-speed connection is established. I would post from work while my home connection is down, but I returned from vacation to find that our Fearless Leader had stepped up the security filters on the computers there. And, yeah, I tried the old "cached-page-trick" to no avail. If any of my sexy-geeky friends have any suggestions as to how to surmount this obstacle, I'm all ears. As for this clunky 10-year-old monstrosity, it will soon live on my desk as my new supercool 100-pound typewriter (it's true, I wanted a pony for my birthday, but I guess this will have to do).

Since I haven't posted in a while, I'm just gonna sum up in a series of cuts...

First off, I've got a brand new Dumbass from Monday night:

The Backstory: Our art department, for whatever inscrutable sadistic purpose, likes to mix things up a bit when they make the product signs, which include the name of the product, its country of origin, and the price. Whenever we have a different version of the same product (like whole snapper vs. filet of snapper), they list multiple locations within the same area. For example, our Red Snapper comes from the Gulf of Mexico, and the sign for the whole fish lists the CoO as USA, while the sign for the filet says Mexico. Get the picture?
The Dumbass Encounter: So, this woman stalks up to the case and declares that she wants fresh Gulf shrimp. I direct her to the shrimp section of the case, and ask her if she wants the jumbo shrimp or the colossal. She reads the sign for one, then the other, and comes to a decision.
"I'll take these Gulf shrimp right here. I want the ones from USA, not the ones from Mexico."

This one's for SIMBI ZEMZEM, who friended me a short time ago:

Hey there... I kinda get the feeling that it's good LJ etiquette to reciprocate when someone friends you. I'm a bit of an anomaly in that all the folks on my friends list are actually people I know and enjoy the occasional company of. So, since I don't know you, throw me a line. Unless you go around randomly friending folks, there must've been something in my profile that caught your attention. If it's a mutual interest or a question you have, hit the comment button and let's have a dialogue.

I guess since the last entry I made was while I was in the middle of my vacation, I should pick it up from there...

New Orleans was, as I mentioned before, a dismal experience. The company while we were out and about was nice (Krys the first night, and Greg and Sacha the next), as was the conversation, and we made the best of the limited options available. It was just a far cry from the evenings in the French Quarter that occupy a large portion of my formative memory. Even the folks we ran into that we used to know were like faded wraiths of the people they once were (or maybe they were always that way, and I was just too close to them to notice). Anyway, yeah, depressing, we get it, moving on...
For the second weekend we were there, Kristen's mom babysat little Gabrielle, and we escaped to Oak Alley with T. and M. The weekend passed with delicious lassitude. I doubt if there are many people who have experienced the degree of comfort and empathy in each other's company as we shared during our stay there. It was a truly magical experience, yielding memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life (seriously, I don't think I'll ever be able to hear "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!" again without being stricken with the giggles). When our visit had ended, I recognized that our return to New Orleans was merely a holdover before our trip back home. I knew, as we snapped our last pics in front of those majestic oaks, that my vacation was over.

Once back home, I've slipped strangely effortlessly back into my old routine. Work feels like I never left--with the exception that a couple of unlovely individuals were fired while I was away, and that our old Perishables Director (whom we all love) was coaxed back into his old position from his job GMing another store. So, I guess I came back into a better work situation than the one I left. Oh, the cleverness of me! That, and the purchase of the new mega-computer-beast pretty much catches me up.

So, I'll sign off with a new thing to make you go, "huh?"

Studies indicate that the human brain takes in somewhere in the ballpark of 400-billion bits of information at any given time. The crazy bit is that we can only process something like 2000 of those bits. That means that the reality you experience is less than one-millionth of a percent of what's really "out there." So, what's really out there? What manner of unseen denizens of this shadow-world are currently invading your personal space?

I Got the Ways and Means...

2007-07-20T06:34:23Z

I'd like to post something longer, but I don't have the hours required, so I'll just condense.

NEW ORLEANS: (More specifically the French Quarter) Has been a bit of a bummer. Monday was our first night out on the town, and I was very much looking forward to roaming through my old stomping grounds. In short, they no longer exist. There's very little open past sunset, and what is open is of questionable quality (with the exception of a couple of cool places like Pravda, Envie, and of course, Angeli). While I did enjoy myself and the company I found myself in, I'm left with a bit of a heatsick pang that feels analogous to what happens when the Novocaine wears off after a tooth has been pulled--there's a throbbing ache, and the tongue of my soul keeps probing for something that used to be there. The high point of our second night out was when I very nearly hospitalized a couple of loudmouthed redneck tourists who intruded into our walking-conversation, and actually followed us, shouting incoherent threats and insults, until I turned around to square off with them... and then I noticed the policeman across the street who was watching us and speaking into his walkie-cell. I had to make the decision to not spend the night in Orleans Parish Prison, and I was pissed off about it for the rest of the night, 'cause ramming those assholes' teeth down their throats would've made me feel a hell of a lot better about the entirety of my homecoming experience.

On a happy note, I'll be spending the weekend at Oak Alley with my wife and our two best friends. I just finished the prepwork for the meals. I picked some fresh basil from my mother-in-law's garden, and made the sweetest pesto I've ever tasted. Y'all are in for a treat! Also, I'm not usually fond of rosemary, but the stuff in this woman's garden is unbelievable, and the chicken I've got prepared is nothing short of magical. I also hit the Chartres Street Liquor Store and grabbed the Chartreuse (heh). Should be an awesome weekend!

Anyway, I've gotta log out now and let Kris on so she can play Caesar.

Vacation (and a DDJ from the archives)

2007-07-16T08:35:42Z

Just a quick gloat to let everyone know that I'm enjoying my vacation more and more with each passing day, and that since I'm NOT at work for the next week-and-a-half, I've decided to pull some Dumbass Du Jours from the memory vault F.Y.E. Here's the first of them

This one actually happened when my wife was working during business hours in Bulk (she does overnights now... probably to avoid people like this). For those unfamiliar with the C.M. layout, the Bulk Dpt is connected via a shortcut with our extensive Beer and Wine Dpt. One day, she was refilling some of the bins when she saw a very distressed-looking elderly woman frantically scanning the shelves and refering to a recipe card in her hand. The woman was clearly distraught, and getting more so by the minute, so Kris approached her and tried to help.
KRIS: Excuse me ma'am. You seem like you're having some trouble finding something. Is there anything I can do to help?
CUSTOMER: Oh, yes. Thank you so much. I have a recipe here that calls for Dry White Wine and I can't seem to find it anywhere.
KRIS: Oh, that's easy. Our Wine Department is just through that shortcut. I'm sure somebody there can help you find the best wine for your recipe.
CUSTOMER(on the verge of tears now): No. I was just over there. All of their wines are liquid.

New Tag: Things that make you go, "huh?"

2007-07-10T08:32:24Z

So, I was reading my Bible a few minutes ago, and as I trudged through the postdiluvian mire of "so-and-so begat such-and-such, who was a great kazoo player of much repute and worldly knowledge," something tugged at my brain in a very distressing fashion. Annoyed, I flipped back a few pages and reread everything 'till I found the offending passage:

"Cush became the father of Nimrod, who was the first potentate on earth... The chief cities of his kingdom were Babylon, Erech and Accad, all of them in the land of Shinar. From that land he went forth to Asshur, where he built Ninevah, Rehoboth-Ir and Calah, as well as Resen, between Ninevah and Calah."

After doing some geographical cross-referencing, my suspicions were confirmed. The Bible, which is surprisingly accurate in depictions of ancient history, seems to be saying that Nimrod was the first ruler of Mesopotamia. Not content with the portion of the land that he had inherited, he went forth and built kingdoms throughout the valley's entirety and unified them under his rule.
Now, every history teacher I've had since the sandbox has said that modern civilization can trace its roots to the "fertile crescent" of the valley of Mesopotamia.
If all of the above assertions are true, then the basic point is this:

The progenitor of modern civilization, in all its form and glory, was a guy named Nimrod.
Somehow, I find this entirely appropriate.

Dumbass Du Jour

2007-07-09T11:00:13Z

This one's for all you "Thundercats" fans...

So, this guy is waffling in front of the case (waffling is when a customer comes in and is overwhelmed by the vastness of the seafood case. The brain shuts off, and the afflicted customer begins to drool and shamble about like an extra from "Day of the Dead.").

This is the third time he's come back after being intimidated by the notion of having to make a choice, and I politely walk up to him and say (for the third time), "Anything catching your eye, sir?"

He straightens up and points (kind of randomly, I think). "I'll take a piece of that," quickly cutting his eyes to follow his finger, and reading, "Marinated Mahi Mahi. Make it a big one." He's suddenly radiating confidence.

So, I splash around 'till I find the biggest piece, bag it and tag it, and as he takes it from my hand, he says, "So, what I usually do is coat my fish in flour and pan fry it. Do you think that'd be okay with this?"

"Well," I say, "While I'm not opposed to the idea of coating the Mahi and pan frying it, I don't think the flour's a good idea. With such a heavy marinade, the flour would clump. You want something coarser. Try Panko."

"What's that?"

"Panko. It's a Japanese breadcrumb. We have it on aisle 5. It won't clump like flour, and I think you'll like it better in general."

"Cool. Thanks for the tip. What was it called again?"

"Panko."

He made me repeat it no less than four times before he finally said, "Alright I got it. Thanks again. Aisle five. Panthro."

Dumbass Du Jour

2007-07-02T09:16:02Z

This one comes to us courtesy of one of the Demo Chefs

The chef was cooking sausage when a lady walked up and said, "Mmmm, that smells good. What is it?"
The chef replied, "Sausage."
To which the customer excitedly responded, "Oh, good. I love tilapia."

Just so we're all on the same page, I have yet to meet the sausage that looks like anything other than sausage when it is being prepared. Tilapia, on the other hand, is a flaky white fish that in no way whatsoever resembles sausage.

Dumbass Du Jour (Hier)

2007-07-01T08:34:51Z

Holy Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ-on-a-stick, people! I've got a doozy of dumbasserie tonite. In all my years in the service industry, I don't think I've ever come across a jackass of this magnitude. It's also gotta be my absolute favorite example of asshole-customer abuse ever. Seriously, this one's gonna be hard to top. I only escaped getting fired by virtue of the philosophy (originally coined by Roger Rabbit, I think) that says that if you make them laugh, they will protect you. Anyway, enough shameless self-promotion. Cats and kittens, put your mittens together for
The Royal-Crown-Chinpoco-Master-

So, it was a pretty laid-back day. Customers were coming at a regular enough pace to keep me from getting bored, but not so frequently as to make me have to do any actual work. I was taking my time, enjoying myself, chatting, swapping recipes and all that happy crappy jazz, when he appeared. I was wrapping up the customer I was with, bidding her a pleasant evening, and was gearing up for my next one (a thirtyish blond Stepford Wife in tennis gear), when my peripheral vision showed a pink blur barreling toward me. The Stepford Wife, her attention upon me, was completely blindsided by the yuppie asshole that elbowed her aside and stopped directly in front of me. I eyed him head to toe, taking in the pink polo, the white khaki shorts, the sandals, and--despite the fact that it was sunset and he was indoors--the designer sunglasses.
This is exactly the type of person I loooove to fuck with, and the encounter went as follows:

YUPPIE SCUM (in an intimidating tone that sounded as though it was entirely used to getting its way. All the time.): You. You're not doing anything. I need some crabs.
ME (casting an apologetic glance at the Stepford Wife): Okaaaay. What kind of crabmeat would you like?
Y.S.(scowling viciously): I said crabs, not crabmeat. You speak English?

so that's the way it was going to be, huh?

ME (slapping on my biggest shit-eatingest grin): My apologies, sir. What kind of crab would you like?
Y.S.: I need half a dozen softshell crabs.
ME: I'm sorry sir, we're fresh out of softshells.
Y.S.: Whaddya mean you're out? When I called yesterday, you said you had them.
ME: Well, sir, we did. Yesterday. At the moment--that moment being, as it were, today--we are out. We'll be getting some more in tomorrow, though, and I'll be happy to place an order for you.
Y.S. (fully irate now, and stabbing the air between us with his finger): No! That's unacceptable. I need those crabs tonight. Not yesterday. Not tomorrow. Today! I came all the way from Clear Lake because you said you had softshell crabs, and I'll be damned if I'm driving back to Clear Lake without them. Understand?
ME (deciding not to agree with him on the inevitable fate of his immortal soul, and also being less than enamored of the idea of continuing this fruitless circular argument): I understand perfectly sir, and I apologize for the difficulty you've experienced so far. Let me see what I can do.
Y.S. (heaving a long-suffering sigh and throwing his arms in the air): Finally!

I then leaned over the display, cleared a space among the shrimp, and placed my hands in the air, palms down, over the bare patch of ice

ME: O, Great and Almighty Joe, I beseech thee! Vouchsafe to venture forth from your equatorial shack, bringing with you your bountiful harvest of soft-bodied crustaceans. Appear before us in a form pleasing unto the tastebuds, and verily, I shall supplicate thee with offerings of Corona and cocktail sauce.

Leaning forward again, I peered beneath my hands, and affected a disappointed sigh at the continued refusal of the softshell crabs to materialize

ME: Nothing, huh? Y'know, sometimes these things require a bit of participation. Tell you what. I'm gonna do it again. Only, this time, if you could do the Sacred Crab Dance? --Like this.

Crooking my elbows so that my hands were pointed skyward, I clacked my thumb and fingers together in the manner of a crab clacking its claws as I hopped from one foot to the other and back again. At this point the Stepford Wife completely lost her shit, doubling over and making noises akin to those an epileptic donkey might make if it was subjected to a strobe light.

Y.S. (his face flushing, and himself quivering with impotent rage): Fuck you. Smartass.

The word "smartass" was snarled over his shoulder as he stormed off, and the giggling housewife thanked me for making her week. We shared a good laugh as I took her order, but as I handed her her fish, my coverage manager (who shall henceforth be referred to as "Snoogles" for anonymity's sake) approached and told me that he needed to talk to me when I had a minute. I thanked the lady and moved to the end of the case to receive my reprimand.

SNOOGLES: I just got a serious complaint against you, Austin. This customer says you refused to give him what he asked for, and you were rude and disrespectful.
STEPFORD WIFE (who had been attentively hovering behind Snoogles, and had apparently decided to save my neck): Sir, excuse me, but I think I know which customer you're speaking of. Pink shirt? Sunglasses?
SNOOGLES (a bit taken aback by the intrusion): Yes?
S.W.: That man came in looking for a fight. He was rude from the start and actually physically pushed me aside so that he could cut in line. From then on, he bullied this poor young man relentlessly, refusing every attempt Austin made to help him. Then, he cursed him out and walked off. Shame on you if you're even thinking about taking this jerk seriously.

She then turned to me

S.W.: And you. I can't tell you how impressed I am by your patience and positive attitude. Honestly, I don't know how you put up with that sort of thing.
ME (trying not to laugh): Well, ma'am, I have to say that it's customers like you that make it all worthwhile.

Goddammit!!!

2007-06-30T09:06:13Z

Apparently, there was some kind of LJ maintenance earlier tonight. It just happened to coincide with me recording the granddaddy of all dumbass du jours, and when I tried to post, I got the Cannot Find Server screen... same thing happened when I decided to go back and just wait it out. So, since I don't feel like devoting another hour to cataloguing the insanity which occured tonight, you'll all have to wait.

Insanity Purge

2007-06-29T07:02:49Z

I know I've mentioned an upcoming catharsis wherein I empty my head of all its bizarrely cojoined ideas. Sadly, this has occured in my paper journal. It's just not something that feels right at a computer. Anyway, bits and pieces may spring up here and there in future posts, but to rewrite it in its entirety would be redundant. It has served its purpose, and I have come to my moment of clarity.

As most of you know, I've been actively trying to get my writing published for five years now. Even someone with a miniscule ego would agree that that's too goddamn long to watch your best work repeatedly rejected. And, friends and neighbors, my ego is far from miniscule. So, my decision is this: I will research a few publications at a time and write formula-fiction specifically geared for each one. The goal here is simply publication--the building of some literary credentials with the hope that someday I'll be allowed to write what I want to write. It may appear to some of you that I'm "selling out" by using my creative talents in this fashion, and I would not neccesarily argue with you, but my plans for the future do not include wallpapering the house that I can't afford to own yet with little bits of paper that all contain the phrase, "Thank you for your contribution, but." So, in a nutshell, I'll be posting some of those upcoming pieces of crappy Lit Fic here, and I'll be welcoming critiques from anyone who won't feel too dirty reading these mental regurgitations.

Cheers.

Dumbass Du Jour

2007-06-29T02:14:22Z

Whew... with only 50 minutes left before we close, I was afraid I wasn't going to get one today. Luckily, though, as of a few seconds ago, I am now pleased to present your

A girl approaches me brandishing a coupon...
GIRL: I have this coupon for marinated beef fajita meat. Where would I find that?
ME (pointing over her shoulder at the 100-ft-long brightly-lit display case): Dunno, probably in the meat department.

Dumbass Du Jour

2007-06-26T09:37:38Z

Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for...

THE DUMBASS DU JOUR
Customer: "Do I have to peel those shrimp?"
Me: "Which shrimp?"
Customer: "Those. The spicy shrimp. Do I have to peel them?"
Me (reading the sign in a slow and exaggerated fashion): "Oh, you mean the 'Spicy Peel and Eat' shrimp?"
Customer: "Ye-- ...oh."

Chapel Perilous

2007-06-24T09:22:11Z

So, I've decided that in order to get a little more mileage out of this thing, I'm gonna start writing some of the serial entries that I have undertaken in my "real" journal here on LJ. This is one that I call Chapel Perilous, and I began it about five years ago, after being indoctrinated by several evil individuals into the Discordian phenomenon (i.e.- being handed copies of "Prometheus Rising," Illuminatus!," and the "Principia Discordia," and being told, "here, I think you'd get a kick out of this." Well, they were right.). Essentially, this is a record of the 23rd of every month, including dreams that I had the morning before, odd events of the day, materializations of the number 23, and a bit of bibliomancy wherein I transcribe the 23rd line of the current page of each of the books I'm reading.

DREAMS
     1.) I am in the movie, "Dogma," and I am one member of a large crowd that has gathered on the steps of the church in New Jersey. We are waiting for Bartleby and Loki to enter the arch, and we're all very happy that the world is about to end. The angels both mount the steps and stride into the church. There's a thunderclap, and a blue-white light funnels down from the sky, hitting the church, and exploding outward.
     2.) Kris and I are showing our daughter the Baby Einstein DVD that we got her for her birthday.
*(Incidentally, we did get her said DVD for her birthday, and Kris did open it up and play it for her while I was at work)
     3.) Kris is surfing the LJ site, and happens upon a user named "Bunnilicious." She is completely enraptured, and after spending the day reading this person's LJ, she decides to contact her.
*(Before writing this, I did a quick find on "Bunnilicious," and yes, this person actually has an account here. Stranger still, she seems like the type of person my wife would find engaging and fun)

EVENTS
-- On my walk into work, the rain followed about two feet behind me the entire time.
-- A very dear friend visited me at work, and I had the unexpected pleasure of taking lunch with her.
-- I did not have a "dumbass du jour" at work.
-- I ran out of deodorant, toothpaste, water, and sugar.
-- My daughter took her first unassisted steps.
-- I decapitated a cockroach that had the misfortune of being found in my cutlery drawer when I went to prepare dinner.

23
-- I left home for work at 2:23pm.
-- Upon leaving my department to clock out, I saw that the number display (y'know, as in: "Now serving number...") had stopped at 23.
-- I stuck a dollar in the vending machine for a bottled water, but the machine chose to give me a Dr. Pepper instead, which had the number 23 (representing the 23 different flavors in their recipe) glaring up at me from the label.
-- I arrived home from work at 11:23pm.
-- When I put the baby's cereal in the microwave, I had to clear out the remaining time from my wife's dinner of a few hours prior. The time left: 23 seconds.
-- While watching the DVD with my daughter, I was subjected to an aggressive advertisement for the latest Disney/Baby Einstein production to be released on August 23.

BIBLIOMANCY
-- An important point is that in order to produce the desired effect, it is necessary to do more than just mindlessly recite the phrase.
-- Virtually everything in his life was, to a greater or lesser extent, odd.
-- Since matter was assumed to be made of atoms, it was also natural to imagine that heated solid or liquid matter glowed because of the movements of the lighter electrons.
-- He came into his office this morning and found us searching through his records.
*(excerpts from "Lucid Dreaming" by Dr. Stephen LaBerge, "Mostly Harmless" by Douglas Adams, "Taking the Quantum Leap" by Fred Alan Wolf, and "The Healer" by George C. Chesbro, respectively.

That's all folks.

Coming soon... Insanity Purge!

Neat

2007-06-20T04:52:04Z

Wow... usually these things are great for killing five-minute blocks of time, and are occasionally mostly accurate. But this one is dead-on. I'm impressed.

<DIV id=testResultInfo>
<H1>Your Score: <SPAN>The Oracle</SPAN></H1>
<H2>0% Extroversion, 80% Intuition, 44% Emotiveness, 100% Perceptiveness</H2>
<DIV id=testResultInfoImg><IMG src="http://is2.okcupid.com/users/118/648/11964821869669735555/mt1156121284.gif"></DIV>
<P>Heuristic, detached, and analytical to a fualt, you are most like The Oracle. You are able to tackle any subject with a fine toothed comb, and you possess an ability to pinpoint nuances and shades of meaning that other people do not have and cannot understand. Accomplishment and realization of ideas are, for you, secondary to the rigorous exploration of ideas and questions -- you are, first and foremost, a theorist. You hate authority, convention, tradition, and under no circumstances do you accept a leadership role (although, you will gladly advise leadership when they're going astray, whether they want you to or not). Abstraction and generalities are your interests, details and particulars are usually inconsequential and uninteresting. You excel at language, mathematics and philosophy. <BR><BR>You are typically easy-going and non-confrontational until someone violates one of the very few principles that you deem sacred, at which point you can fly into a rage. Although you possess a much greater understanding of process and systems than the people around you, you are always conscious of the possibility that you've missed something or made a mistake. You don't tend to become attached to particular theories, and will immediately discard mistaken notions once they're revealed to be incorrect (but you don't tolerate iconoclasts who try to discredit validated theories through the use of fallacies and bad data). Despite being outwardly humble, you probably think of yourself as being smarter than most other people. That's because you are. In fact, in your dealings with people your understanding of their motives is so expansive that you know what they're going to say before they say it, and in world affairs, you usually know what is going to take place before it actually does. This ability would make you unbeatable in debates if only you were a little less pensive about your own conclusions, and a little more outgoing. <BR><BR>Famous people like you: Albert Einstein, Charles Darwin, Adam Smith, Thomas Jefferson, John McWhorter, Ramanujan, Marie Curie, Kurt Godel<BR>Stay clear of: Apollo, Icarus, Hermes, Aphrodite<BR>Seek out: Atlas, Prometheus, Daedalus </P></DIV><table cellpadding=20><tr><td>Link: <a href='http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=6185258618751578079'>The Greek Mythology Personality Test</a> written by <a href='http://www.okcupid.com/profile?u=Aleph_Nine'>Aleph_Nine</a> on <a href='http://www.okcupid.com'>OkCupid</a>, home of the <a href='http://www.okcupid.com/online.dating.persona.test'>The Dating Persona Test</a></td></tr></table>

Was it National Glue-Sniffing Day? Did I miss the memo?

2007-05-25T10:10:16Z

Ordinarily, I don't even bother commenting upon the stupidity of the ordinary human primate. I generally take it as a given that I'm way smarter than the average knucklenob that wanders into Central Market--and I'm frequently vindicated as I witness the ridiculous amounts of money these nimrods spend on completely unnecessary and frivolous things. Here's an example from my own department: Chilean Seabass. I take a moral stand against it for many reasons; it's not particularly appetizing, it's overfished and bordering on endangered, the methods used for catching it produce loads of bycatch and damage the seafloor, and its mercury content is dangerously high. While any of these would be reason enough to avoid the fish, my main reason for boycotting it is that it costs $28/lb. Have patience, gentle reader, we're nearing the stupid. Now, as a former chef, and the tenured lead in the seafood market, I have in my head several yummy recipes for each of the 110 different types of fresh seafood we carry, and customers love to take advantage of that. Ready? Here's the stupid: On an almost daily basis, some dumb shit comes in, orders several pounds of Seabass (I'd estimate the average total to be in the $70 range), then says: "O.K., now how do I cook it?" My usual response is to snort and say, "How should I know? Do I look like I can afford seabass?"
Stupid = spending nearly $100 on a chunk of dead fish that you don't know how to cook.
And that, friends and neighbors, is but one example of the ordinary variety of stupidity I endure. Today, though, there was some mischievous imp standing outside the entrance whacking each and every one of the customers with his Stoopid-Stick. I should probably set up some kind of file to keep a list of my encounters, since this rant is not coming anywhere near the mark in terms of conveying the check-your-brain-at-the-door attitude that prevailed today, and is just taking way too long. So, for your pleasure, and so that you can feel superior to folks who own three Lexuses, but who scratch the letters L and R into the soles of their shoes, I'll list a few of today's nuggets of nimroderie, then I'm making myself an omelette, having a beer, and going to bed.

--"What's the difference between the spicy crabcakes and the regular ones?"
--"No, I don't want the shrimp from Mexico, I want these over here, from the Gulf."
--"Oh, it's $8.99 for the whole fish and $18.99 for the fillet. What's the difference?"
--"These shrimp are raw. Do I need to cook them before I eat them?"

EXTREEEME GOLF!!!!

2007-05-23T09:02:48Z

As I logged into MSN tonight, this piece caught my eye: http://msn.foxsports.com/golf/story/6839910?MSNHPHMA&GT1=10035. I know I'm going to Hell for laughing, but at least I'll be in good company... right?

Also, while watching a sci-channel special on Superstring Theory, I caught this little non sequitor: "All of our problems began with the Big Bang." This was a scientist explaining that S-Theory collapses when tested against the singularity of the universe's manifestation, but I think it was a very noteworthy Fruedian slip that says much more about our state of existence than any physics theory.

Fucking Slagged

2007-05-21T19:58:05Z

So, I got 5 hours of broken sleep last night, and had NINE dreams! I feel like my brains are leaking out of my ears. And, of course, today's my nine and a half hour workday, because some corporate bigwigs are doing a walkthrough tomorrow, and I'm the only person who's going to take the initiative to clean this place. All I can say is that it's a damn good thing I'm off the next two days.