High Lonesome

Children Are Our Future....God Help Us All

I wish I would have been able to apply treatment to the row full of spazed out brats in front of me on the flight to Orange County today... 

All Things Being Equal: It's Martini Time!

All this being equal.  I hate that phrase.  It's right up there with "think outside the box," all the blather about "new paradigms," and the notion that x, y, or z is "powerful."  Ugh.  It's almost as annoying as people who insist on boring us with critical theory jargon at cocktail parties.  I say almost, because at my parties we throw empty liquor bottles at the offender and mock him/her endlessly.  It's oodles of fun!

Today I got to waste an hour and a half of my day in a meeting with a team of middle management meat heads of one of my clients.  In the first fifteen minutes I was reminded just why I ran screaming for the exit during the first eight months of my corporate servitude.  By the end of the first half hour I was ready to scratch my eyes out.

What did we accomplish?  Not much.  Unless you count their decision to form a committee on their end to discuss the meeting, and we'd need to meet again after the first of the year to review that committee's recommendations. What they plan on discussing, I have no idea.  All I heard was an hour and a half of tired industry buzz words.

For God so loved the world, he did not send a committee.  *sigh*

Still all was not lost.  I did encounter a great new cocktail as I sought solace at the Purple Martini following the cluster-fuck meeting.  The Steel Magnolia.  Try it, it's great!

• 3 oz Gray Goose Vodka
• 1 oz Pomegranate
• 1/2 oz Grand Marnier
• 1/2 oz fresh squeezed lime juice

TGIF!!!

Adventures in Customer Service: Post Christmas Party Hangover Edition

I hosted my second Christmas/Holiday/Whatever party of the season last night.  A good time was had by all.  I know because my liquor cabinet is empty.  Damn.  Those bitches even polished off the Chambord.  I wonder if they played Kitty Dukakis in the bathroom?  Who am I kidding.  I'd better put rubbing alcohol on the shopping list.

Under my hangover I realized that today is Dec 21.  I guess this means I actually need to get started with the Christmas shopping.  Foolishly I thought I'd save myself the aggravation--and the need to bathe/shave--of battling the soccer moms of Cherry Creek and just call in an order flowers for mother. 

Here's how it went down...

Flower Barn Bimbo:  *chewing gum*  Hello

Me:  Is this the Flower Barn

FBB:  Uh...ya

Me:  Great I'd like to order some flowers

FBB: *chews gum*

Me:  Hello?

FBB:  We're really busy

*is she chewing gum or cud?

Me:  I'm planning on spending $500 dollars, are you too busy for that.

FBB:  Let me check

*facepalm*  WTF kind of question is that.  Don't sales people work on commission?!?!

Me:  *placed on hold*  Wow, KMER still has the same 10 CD's it did when I was in HS.  Go figure

FBB:  We can maybe squeeze it in, but we're like almost out of evergreen. So can we send a gift basket.  It has fruit.

oh Joy I send my mother a fruit basket and she'll think I'm trying to make the grandsons homo for the holidays

Me:  No, no fruit.  Look lets make it simple.  Can you send 4 floral arrangements to the church for Christmas Eve service, sans evergreen?

FBB:  I don't think we have any sans evergreen.  Just pine.

Kill me now. I knew should have made a blood mary before I called hicktown

Me:  Can you do just flowers?

FBB:  Oh ya, we've got lots of those.

*breathe in...out....in...out....slowly*

Me:  Great, I would like four arraignments sent for the Christmas Ever service and one larger arrangement sent to my mother, evergreen isn't an issue.

FBB:  That's going to be like $300.

Me:  I told you, I'm giving you $500 to work with.

FBB:  Isn't that a lot of money for flowers?

Well that answers that:  you don't work on commission

Me:  What the heck.  It's Christmas.

FBB: *chews gum*  So when do you want them delivered?

Me:  Uh, I think the Christmas Eve Service flowers should be delivered in the late afternoon of....the 24th?

FBB:  Ya, that way they don't dry out

Me:  Yes.  That wouldn't be good now would it.  Can you have the order for my mother delivered tomorrow.

FBB:  I can't do it tomorrow.  We're having our party.  Is today okay?

Oh, far be it from me to get in the way of your party.  I'm just the damned customer

Me:  Today would be fine.

*sigh*  Maybe No Child Left Behind will be the straw that finally crushes the entrepreneurial camel's back.  Woe to the Republic.

Trial by Jury

The day started out so well.   I had a great workout.  I was able to side step two totally pointless meetings with lesser clients, and schlep their followup on two underlings who, for some sick and inexplicable reason, live for long drawn out meetings that are destined to go nowhere. 

It wasn't to last.  As I sorted though the mail, there it was, mocking me with it's false congratulatory salutations:  "Congratulations, Citizen, you have been selected for jury duty."  Oh, ya...right.  Great.  Thanks.  I'm sorry I don't have any confetti.

The letter that comes with a summons is always a lot of laughs.  I love the line, "State law makes your service as convenient as possible for the majority of our citizens."  *cough*  Yes, the retired, unemployed, and the unemployable have nothing particular to do with their time, it works great for them.  However, those of us who do own companies, have employees--any of you out there who do employ people know what a "joy" that is--and have deadlines/responsibilities it's a real pain in the ass.

Yes, yes, I know.  Trial by jury is one of those noble institutions enshrined in the constitution,a sign of a free people, bla bla bla.  It's one of those good things that, like health food, is good for but about as palatable as milk toast.

I'm a  Law School graduate, so, naturally, I have a healthy contempt for attorneys in general.  Especially trial lawyers.  The prospect of being stuck in a whole nest of them isn't a pleasant one indeed.

Still, it could be worse.  A note from the county clerk for jury duty is no where as annoying as a happy gram from the IRS.