“Hey, Mark, I need a small project done by 2PM.  Can you do it?”
     “Sure,” I said assuredly.

     But that was early this morning.

     “Hey, can you help with this other thing?”
     “I have a 2PM deadline on the first one,” I tell them.
     “It’ll only take a minute.”

     Wrong.

     Back on track, an hour later.

     “Hey, Mark?  I need you to hold up while we send you some more specifications.”
     “Okay, but… we’re running out of time here.”
     “It’s nothing major.”

     An hour later, I get the new information and have to sart over.

     “Hey, Mark, can you do something else for us?”
     “Look, I spent two and a half hours off, and I’m running out of time here.  You need your first project at 2PM, right?” I ask.
     “Yeah, but this is more important right now.”
     “Okay…”

     Another hour later, I’m back on track.

     “Hey, Mark.  This other guy over here needs some software installed.”
     “I can’t,” I told him.
     “Why not?”
     “I don’t have time, since you need this done by 2PM,” I explained.  “But I can do it after that.”
     “Yeah, we have to have that.  But if you can’t do this for us, then we better find someone else to do all of it.”
     “Well, you could, but I’ve already done this, that, the other, and spent an hour and a half on the first thing you asked for.  If you be patient, then I can get you taken care of.”
     “Yeah, ok.  Well, we need that by 2PM.”
     “Great… talk to ya then.”

     Back on track.  It’s 1:15PM.  I have forty-five minutes to finish.

     “Oh, but, Mark, we really need…”
     “Okay, do you need your project by 2PM?”
     “Yes, absolutely!”
     “Okay, I’m trying to finish it, in the next 45 minutes, so if you could just make a list of what all needs to be done and e-mail it to me, I’ll be happy to knock that out promptly at 2:01PM.”
     “Yeah, well, we have to have this, too.”
     “I can’t do both right now.  Both are very involved projects, and I need to finish this one by 2PM.  In 45 minutes, I’ll do whatever else you need.”
     “Well, that’s just not acceptable.  Haven’t you ever heard the customer is always right?”
     “Yes, and if you ask me to complete a task by 2PM, I’m going to, if you’ll allow me to.”
     “Oh, yeah, well, I think we’re just gonna scrap the whole project and find someone els to do all of it.”
     “Well, I could certainly do them, but I think perhaps you guys need to prioritize your needs a little better.  Here it is with forty minutes to spare, and I’ve only been able to work on a five hour project for about two hours.  I can get it going, but I can’t do it and talk on the phone and do all of these other things.  If you can bear with me for forty minutes, I’ll get you all taken care of it.”
     “All of it?”
     “Your project at 2PM, and everything else by 4:30.”
     “That’s not acceptable.  You said by 2PM.”
     “Yes, sir, for the original project.  All of these other things are peripheral, and taking the necessary time away from that project.”
     “That’s not acceptable.  We’re going to find someone else!” he yells as he hangs up.

     I call back.  “Ya know, there is the matter of your bill.”
     “You didn’t have the project finished by 2PM.”
     “No, but you contracted my time to do it, and proceded to use that time to finish several other, smaller projects.”
     “Apparently, our time isn’t important, Mark!”
     “Excuse me?” I monotoned in disbelief.

     I do the impossible.  I do a good job.  And above all, I treat my customers with respect and proceed to my duties in a professional manner.

     “So you’re not going to pay me?” I ask.
     “Why?  You didn’t get the job done.”
     “No, but I got three others done for you in the time where I was supposed to be finishing a project.  I explained repeatedly that I couldn’t get the project completed by 2PM if you continued to come to me with other, less important requests.  You said that these were just as important, and I stopped to complete those tasks, as well.  I am not a time traveller, and apparently, that is what you need.”
     “Yes, we do.  So f$*& you, Mr. Steel!  We’re finding someone else.”
     “F$*& ME?  Apparently, sir, you have a problem with my performance, though I fail to see how that could be, considering all of the assistance I’ve offered you today.  Perhaps you should find someone else.”
     “Don’t f$*&ing cuss me you piece of sh….”
     *click!*

     I will not walk away empty handed, and then sit there to be insulted and screamed.

     A little respect is never too much to ask.

     Funny that it’s now 2:06, and neither their projects nor their additional side tasks are completed.  I wonder how long it’s going to take the next guy?

     [ And if you’re said customer — who pretends to be my employer — do you realize that I QUIT?! ]

On August 18th, 24-year-old Tommy Salter decided to celebrate his college graduation at the Fort Walton Beach, FL strip club, Club 10. From all appearaces it was quite the party.

Tommy was in good spirits.

$53,000 worth of spirits (and club cash) to be exact.

As irresponsible children do, Tommy called American Express to cancel the charges. AmEx sided with the club.

Tommy then asked his father, Joe Salter, for help. However, instead of chastising young Tommy for irresponsibly spending $53,000 in a tawdry topless bar, the senior Salter assists in suing the strip club, and having them investigated for fraud and forgery, in addition to larceny.

Investigation showed that $39,000 in charges came after the 4AM last call, however, each of those receipts were signed, and itemized bills were initialed, by the younger Salter. His father, of course, says that those signatures and initials are just “scribbles,” and that since they were signed after last call, it proves that Club 10 was illegally selling alcohol after last call.

Any rational, thinking person would be skeptical of that. The club’s policy is that any bottle of champagne (priced between $150 and $2000) requires a separate receipt, and most people do pay at last call. However, even with that, the club has gone out of its way, even offering to refund those $39,000 in charges which came after 4AM.

I suppose it just hasn’t sunk in with dear ol’ dad that Tommy Boy was smashed and is trying his damndest to get out of paying his bills.

Can you say “Buyer’s Remorse,” boys and girls?

I knew you could.

     There’s something that’s bothered me for a long, long time, and it’s changed my behavior a little.

     If I walk up to a door to open it, I glance around to see if anyone else is close.  If they are, I hold it open for them.  It’s a simple thing, that most people don’t do at all any more.

     Some people are semi-thankful, but can’t really be bothered to do much more than nod or half-grunt a, “Thanks,” before continuing to walk blindly around not paying attention to anyone else around them.

     Occasionally, you get one of the uber-Feminists who will rip you a new butt for holding her door open.  She’s perfectly capable of doing it herself, and what a chauvanistic piece of — *BONK!* — as the door hits her in the face, because she’s too busy complaining to note that you let it go and walked away… at which point, you’re demoted to misogynist, and… *rolls eyes* 
     I always wonder how those types react when they see me hold the door for the guy at the next door…

     Unfortunately, most people these days are asshats and don’t care that I hold the door for them, at all.  Why, no!  I should be privileged for having held their door!  I’m not antisocial (I’m really not), but stuff like that is exactly why I think the vast majority of people should get bent.

     Needless to say, it is due to the above three classes of people that I don’t stop, hold the door, and wait for people to go through ahead of me.  Bloody hell, half of the population are so brash and rude that they will jump right on through while I’m holding open for my lady, who I really wanted to walk in with…
     Thus, I’m very good about holding it behind me.  And, if I accidentally drop it as someone’s coming, I even go so far as to apologize to them.
     Weird, eh?

     But today, as I walked up to the door to a store, I noticed an elderly woman with a very young teenager approaching.  Ignoring my usual instincts, I stopped, grabbed the door, held it open, and said, “After you!” as I ushered them inside.
     The two looked me right in the eyes, and with large, genuine smiles, said, “Oh, thank you!” in unison.
     Genuine thanks?!  That’s so rare!  I couldn’t help but say something, and when I opened my mouth, “My pleasure!” came tumbling out.
     Again, more smiles.  As they walked on into the store arm-in-arm, they leaned and whispered to one another, patted the others’ arms as they went.

     Simply amazing.

     Nostalgic, even, remember how people used to act when you did some random act of kindness…?

I am sad to say that my addiction to Chinese Food was abruptly halted as a result of the ongoing battle with the Fortune Cookie Nazi.  He won, I lost; no MSG, salt loaded, sugary goodness for Diva.  Dammit.

So, I come home from a business trip and OG tells me that while I was gone, she had went to said establishment to partake of take-out as her man had taken ill.

She went to the self serve bar, I remember so well.  She filled her to-go boxes with treats of all kinds…

She went to the front to pay our friend the Fortune Cookie Nazi…

“You need-a any sauces today?”  He asked.

“No.  I don’t think so,”  she politely replied.

“Well, you must-a take the fortune cookie,” he tells her.

A light bulb went off over her head.  She knows first hand that I’m not kidding when I say he just won’t give me a fortune cookie.  That he has an inner drive within his deep dark soul, which keeps him from simply dipping in and giving me my friggin’ cookie. 

What’s wrong with a brother when he won’t even share a 5 cent cookie?  He would give me a truck load of sauces, chop stix, but no damn cookie.   All I want is my cookie!!  Why can’t you just give me my cookie!!!

I’m going to go rock back and forth in the corner now.

On the way back, from out the woods, all of a sudden the traffic came to a stand still.  For a second I thought I had given way to shock and was in need medical attention because this is Maryville, Tennessee. This is a town that is maybe three times the size of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, it seemed a bit excessive to require four police cars and one tow truck at the “scene of the crime.” 

After all it was just a routine case of dented rear (end) syndrome.  One idiot/person liked the other person’s butt a little too much and would have no long distance relationship. For this driver, he wanted that butt just like a babyboomer to coke: “ITS MINE!!! I WANT IT NOW!!!!!!!”  A moment of pure obsessive madness.

The larger problem is the inability of said law enforcement to correctly assist in navigating around such a traffic fiasco.  No, instead said officer motioned as if I was to stop my motor vehicle.  What he then failed to do was request that I drive around said incident while he walked past me. 

This was not a case of American blind justice, just sheer irreverence for having a decent work ethic.  After all aren’t public servants supposed to perform their tasks to the best of their ability no matter how irksome? Or, in the midst of other current events, have the law enforcement officials in Maryville be taking notes from the Knox County Commision?  Only time will tell…