Ya got ma goat?

Bent outta shape….

So Victor. You write this friggin’ Pollyanna blog… You ‘preach’ this “it’s a choice”.. “life’s all about attitude, and one’s reaction”… “suckup the good, the years they fly.” Don’t you ever get pissed? I mean, what bends you outta shape?

Wow. Good question. I honestly don’t think, within the last few years, too much has “bent me outta shape.”

I’m at a loss why my ex has absolutely zero to do with her 22 yr old son (cards/money on Christmas, birthday - no phone calls or visits in two years, lives in same town).. But, I have no control over that.

I am a Customer Service fanatic, so I guess it’s little stuff that makes me boil at the stimuli….

So you wanna example? There’s a little gal, she usedta work at the local gas station. I go there because it’s locally owned, and don’t figure I’m buying too many keffiyeh’s (Arab headdress’s) when I fill up. Little gal would be on the phone, and stay on the phone, for like several minutes whilst I stood awaiting to give her my (mostly) hard earned dollars. That kinda stuff makes me “bent outta shape”. I never said anything to her.

So, the other day… I hadn’t seen Queen of the Telephone in awhile…. I’d driven thru Mickey D’s for the normal “hotcakes and two hash browns” for Maynard…. Seems they normally tuck the hash browns up under the cakes… Got home, Maynard releases “Hey Pops, where’s my hash browns?” Shit, I dunno.

So the next day… I drive thru Mickey D’s… ain’t real sure what time it was… the Drive Thru… figured I’d say “Hey, you guys shorted us two hash browns yesterday, I was gonna get a couple of double-cheeseburgers… wondering if you could credit me the two hash browns and call it even?”

Now I’d worked at Sonic. I managed a Sonic Drive Inn……. Yes, Victor, we remember “you know what your problem is? (as they moved me from $57K a year manager to $24K a year assistant manager)… you’re too GD nice.”

So, point being, take my word, ring up whatever GD key you have to ringup on the register, gimme my two double cheeseburgers - you’re happy, I’m happy.

Cepting… no… “Pull on up.. We’ll talk.”… So, I do. I get up to the window. Shit. It’s “phone lady”. “Hi, I was the one who was shorted two hash browns… can u just consider it an even exchange on this purchase?” (At Sonic, we gladly woulda done that, and maybe thrown something in on toppa that.)… “Nope, sorry, for that…it’s too busy now… you’ll have to come inside and see a manager.” I probably shoulda said “I’m not moving my car until I see the manager” - but didn’t.

See… stuff like that pisses me off…. Calling a vendor, whom we are paying, and they cop an attitude. It’s like “Look biotch.. We had a choice.. And we chose you.. And we’re paying you.. And there’s a hitch-in-the-get along, and it’s pretty obvious you don’t give a rats…and that disturbs the hell outta me, because it’s customers like me that keep you employed.”

I get bent outta shape when one perceives themselves to be holier than thou. We had an announcement of the “all 60 of you can hear” intercom Friday…. “so-and-so will be in the conference room from 3:30pm until 5pm and he prefers not to be disturbed.” I have always lived by the motto “all men are created equal.”

It bends me outta shape when I see parents doing things like pulling their kid by the ear.. Forcefully yanking their arm…

What gets your goat?

Softball practice last night. At fitty-five, I was “bent, outta shape.” Fun though. I’m rambling, but reckon I do that. Bend me, shape me, anyway you want me, long as you love me - it’s alright. Have a nice one, love, Victurd.