Monthly Archives: November 2004

Friday Night

This friday night, a new sport was invented. Its called Poland Springs Boxing.

Like the water, its coming to ya straight from Maine. All you need is 4 empty Poland Springs containers (the huge kind you use on bubblers), You put one in each hand, and fight.

John and I have all cut up nuckles, but it was a damn good time. I think if we taped up our hands like a real boxer would, we would be all set, but that involves too much planning.

Also, while reviewing some of the “archives” of Mini-DV tapes from the good old days of yore, we stumbled across this quote. Its John talking about Puccia while we were cleaning up his blazer and “fixing” the exhaust after offroading in the dump.

Puccia, he fucking needed it…

kids a fucking faggot..

I’m tired of his bullshit…

I wanna be in the Air Force!

I wanna go to the academy!

I wanna be an officer!…oooh!…ooh!…ooh!

I can’t handle enlistment!

I’m a fucking pansy!

get off of me!

and then…while talking last night, John said:

“Chris…who can’t drink without a written contract, is going to fly us to maine”

thanksgiving

I had thanksgiving today at my sisters boyfriends house. We used to have it at my parents house, but my sister decided to take over for some reason. She did a pretty good job, and the food was good, but one thing always sucks about the holidays. And thats the talking. I always get drilled with questions from everyone. Hows the job? you saving money? have a girlfriend? have a girlfriend have a girlfriend? have a girlfriend?

Its real annoying, so this year I decided I would try a new tactic. Be sociable with my crazy family and never give them a chance to ask those great standard questions.It started off bad because I had to bring this sweet potato thing my other sister made for her, because at the time she decided she wasn’t going to come because she was mad at my parents. This sweet potato thing was burning hot, and I put the pan on my passenger seat and propped it up with gloves so it wouldnt leak. Apparantly I didn’t do a good job, because as soon as I left my street, the juice the sweet potatos were in come out like a water fall all over my seat. So I pull up nice and pissed off, and decided to blame it on my parents for leaving without it, or even saying they were leaving. But after I cleaned it up I calmed down and went back to the main plan. The one saving grace was that a friend of my sisters boyfriend is this guy name Charles. He is a funny guy, and I just talked to him in the backyard as my sisters boyfriend deep fried a turkey in the deep fryer he got. I almost managed to dodge every bad conversation completely, except for when my sisters boyfriend threw out the “hows work>” questions.

My favorite quote of the day was when I was talking to Charles and said to me:

Charles: “so how have you been?”
Me: “eh….I don’t really have anything to say either way”
Charles: “haha, yeah, i know what you mean, pretty much the same for me. Basically, I didn’t get shot in the head yesterday, so thats good”

The odd thing is that I met Charles a couple holidays ago, unbeknownst to me, he is known as “Chaz” to the outside world, and has this funny ass blog. Oddly enough, he is friends with this kid I know from work, who happened to also be friends with a girl I know, that told me about the job opening that I applied for, and got.

talk about full circle. Unfortunately its not the same full circle that rambo talks about in rambo III. That would be much better, because I would have just finished stick fighting this crazy guy and winning shitloads of money.

By the way, why did I mention the sweet pototos earlier? it wasn’t to relevant was it? it was foreshadowing for the end of my story! hah! got you all.

So we go to eat, and apparantly these sweet pototos where some “recipe” my sister heard about. The odd thing is that she doesn’t cook, at least as far as I know.

So we go to eat, and my other sister, and her boyfriend (the ones hosting the dinner) were laughing about how they were going to end up getting drunk off of the food, and they told me to taste what bethaney made. The sweet potatos were like marinated/drenched/injected with the 100 proof kind of Southern Comfort, and had melted marshmellows on top. They actually tasted kind of good, but how weird is that? whats even worse, was that it then click in my head that i now have southern comfort/sweet potato juice all over my seat, which I felt cops would especially love.

But luckily it cleaned up good, and all is well and back to normal, and I have yet again wrote a really long blog entry, so screw you all for reading it.

Sunday and the Lowell Triangle

Because I am a nutcase, I decided I needed a little practice before the boston.com bowling league game Monday night. People that want to play 10-pin style seem to be hard to find, unless they are in Colorado, in any event, after much persuation, Ashley agreed to come with me, but due to the fact that Townline sucks, and we didn’t want to drive into Boston, I saught out another 10-pin alley. Those places are hard to find around here! I found about 20 candlepin alleys in the yellow pages, and 1 10-pin alley besides Town Line, and it was over in North Reading on rt 28, So off we went. I have been on rt 28 about 325,634,607 times in my life so I just got the address and figured it would be easy to find, but no. I went up and down that friggin road about 4 times before I realized what I did wrong and went down rt 28 to where the bowling alley actually was. We walk into this place
and it is DEAD, and by dead I don’t mean it wasn’t busy, I mean we were the only people bowling. There was a good 25-30 empty lanes, and then us. The jackass lady running the place gives us the lane right behind her counter, then proceeded to comment on my bowling skills whenever she deemed it necessary, but after I hurled my bowling ball like a discus at her head, she shut up.

End result: i got a crappy 95, and Ashley got like a 60 I think. It was her first time bowling 10-pin, and pretty much didn’t like it at all, yet she still did better than my first game with the bowling league, when I got a lowsy 46. What the hell?

Then I decide to be nice to my parents and drive my brother back up to his dorm at Umass Lowell. Ashley for some reason stayed with me, and we headed on up there. I got there with no problems, but just like the last time I drove my brother to school, I entered a parallel universe or something on the way home.
I could have sworn to get to Umass, I went I-93 to 495 north, so on the way home, I went 495 south. And that apparantly wasn’t right. After turning around going back, and then ending back at the same place again, I gave up and took rt. 2 home.

I know right now John and banging his fist against the monitor, but too bad fucker! your reading this blog entry and I am not there in the flesh! hah!

So apparantly if Ashley is in or near my car, I lose all ability to follow directions. She must practice witchcraft or something, because between the bowling alley trip, the umass lowell trip, and my driving to On the Border on friday, I am 0 for 3.

what the hell? how did I drive home from Lowell wrong? how?!?!?!??!

a trip down memory lane

I was cleaning out some files on my computer at work today, and I stumbled across this letter I wrote to my old bank after I had been mugged and the morons at the bank made my bank account inaccessible for weeks.

I completely forgot I wrote this:

Hi,
I am writing to you today to show my complete disguist with American Bank. I dont think I have ever dealt with a more inept and disregardful bank, and I thought BankBoston was bad.

on 4/23 I was robbed at gunpoint, among the things stolen from me was my wallet, with my American Bank check card, and my bag, of which among other things, had my check book in it. As soon as I was done reporting the event to the police, I immediately started calling three credit card companies I had credit cards from in my wallet, along with American Bank. All of the companies promptly assigned me a new card number and promptly sent out a new card, however, American Bank, being the most important of the bunch since they are basically the receipient of my biweekly paycheck, neglected to mail me a new card. I didnt realize this until 4/28, when it occured to me that the person on the phone never explicity said “we will send you out a new card” even though to me, that seems like a extremely obvious thing. All the credit card companies assumed I still wanted to be a customer of theirs. This was the first example of how little American Bank cares about its customers. To make matters worse, when I called customer service on 4/28, and the representative confirmed my suspicions and said “yes, it doesnt look like the person you talked to sent out a new card” she then said “I put the order in, your should have your new card in 2 weeks, and we will charge your account $5 for the new card”. I also asked if their was any way they could tell me what the new card number would be, because I now had 3 bills that where overdue since the only way I could pay for them was with a credit card, but “they arn’t allowed to give that information over the phone”. Not like it matters or anything, its just my credit. So now after already waiting a week, I have to wait another 2 for my card? my paycheck was direct deposited into my now useless account on 4/24. I don’t know how everyone else in the world operates, but I know I for one use my paycheck for bills, and necessities, all of which mean nothing to American Bank, this was especially obvious after the next thing that was said. I asked her if there was any way that could be rushed, especially since its not like I lost my card. I was held up at gun point. That alone was an extremely uncomfortable and inconveinant event. I didn’t expect to get it even worse from a bank I had been doing business with for 2 years. She told me it could be rushed, but it would cost me $70. What kind of scam is that? you hold my hard earned money hostage in exchage for $70? if I ran a bank, I would do everything I could to give my customers the most pleasant banking experience possible. It seems like a good philosphy, but apparantly not for American Bank. I am not asking for sympathy, its not the banks fault I was held up, but it seems like something could be done to rush printing a printing a piece of plastic and shoving in a next day envelope, especially since I already have to pay $5 for a item probably printed for pennies. Yet another example of American Bank trying to profit from my misfortune. But wait, there’s more.

5/3 comes along, and to my surpise, my brand new shiny American Bank check card comes in the mail. Finally I can use my own money again without having to write checks out to my friends and family in exchange for cash. The little sticker on the card said to activate the card, I just had to go to the ATM and type in my PIN and the card would then be activated for purchases and such. Sounds easy enough. One would think. I go to one of the local ATM’s, and to my suprise and dismay, my PIN, which I had been using for quite some time, all of a sudden didn’t work any more, and to make matters worse, the ATM then confiscated my card. I had the card for a good hour, dangling in front of my face, like it was some kind of joke. Of course given the fact it was the weekend, I had no way of finding out what was wrong until monday.

So monday rolls around, now 13 days since I had been robbed, and I get on the phone with customer service at American Bank, which by the way, was the third time I have had to call since the card was stolen. The representative explained to me that a new PIN had been assigned to me, and it should have arrived in the mail. This bringing us to yet another example of American Banks disregard for their customers. No one ever told me they where assigning me a new card, which to me seems like a very important piece of information. The cookie cutter letter that came with the new card never explained that either. I know how fast US mail takes these days, a standard letter doesn’t take more than 3 days to get anywhere in the continental US. I should have gotten that new PIN days before the card, and regardless of when the PIN arrived, the representative, or better yet, the letter with the new card itself should have explained that I would need to use a new PIN. To add to th hell that is the banking experience with American Bank, the representative then told me I had two options. 1) they could “resend” me the PIN number letter. or 2) I could send them a request in writing telling them what I wanted my new PIN to be. Neither of those options seemed reasonable to me. She claimed they assigned me a new PIN because they had no way of knowing what my old one was, since that is locked up or something. If that was true, then how could they send me a new confirmation letter? seems like a record of the PIN is somewhere. The real icing on the cake is that now, after 13 days of waiting, even if I was to get this elusive new PIN I never asked for, the bank that ran the ATM that confiscated my card doesnt collect anything from that ATM until friday, and unless I catch them before they ship any cards in the machine to their head office, my card will be sent back to American Bank.

I find it completely unreasonable for me to have to pay $70 for the bank I have dealt with for 2 years to care enough to rush sending me the main means of interacting with my own money. I find it completely unreasonable for American Bank to have changed my PIN with out my knowledge or consent, and then to top it of never even tell me when the new card arrived, and I find it even more unreasonable for me to have to call twice for them to send me out a new card. Which to me seems like a VERY obvious thing.

Never in my life have I had such a horrible experience with any company, let alone my own bank, and I think I would rather be held at gunpoint again thain spend another day dealing with your poor excuse of a bank. I am so aggravated and amazed by the atrocity of a bank American Bank is, I think I will instead bank with a sock hidden under my bed. At least then I can easily have access to my own money.

In case it isnt obvious yet. I would like to close my account, there are an abundance of other banks that know how to show they care for their customers. Here is a list of other companies that know how to run a bank. http://www.bankrate.com/brm/rate/chk_ratehome_new.asp?web=brm&online_checking=on&interest=1&sort=10&online_flag=&type=3 maybe you should take some advice from them.

Also, on a last note, if you can get one of the reces monkeys that work at your bank to stop flinging feces, you might want to tell them if they are going to keep lowering the APR of your “high yield” checking accounts, they should update the alternate text of the image on your homepage, because it still says 2.00% instead of your rapidly dropping 1.75% current rate.
Here is an example:
if (ad == 1) {
url = “/personal/deposit/checking.asp”;
alt = “American e-Checking – 2.00% APY!”;
banner = “/images/body_images/main_area/message5_03-30-01.gif”;
width = “370″;
height = “270″;
}

Thank you for making my life all the more miserable,
Michael Devlin

The Driving Record

1. Date License was issued: 9/18/1997
2. 7/2/1998 Speeding (Melrose)
Very first time being pulled over. Unlike the rest of the world, I didn’t get a warning.
3. 1/5/2000 Illegal operation – (Wakefield)
Honking a horn (repeatedly) in front of someones house
4. 1/5/2000 No front license plate (Wakefield)
Its funny how you only get a ticket for this if the license plate you do have is red. I guess the
green ones shine through to the other side, so that a cop in front of you can still
see it.
5. 1/5/2000 No inspection sticker (Wakefield)
6. 3/13/2000 Speeding (Bellingham)
going down 495 in light traffic on the way back from Tealuxe. I wasnt driving to endanger, nor was weaving through traffic. I was in the left lane going a comfortable 70 or so.
7. 5/3/2000 Speeding (Salem)
8. 9/15/2000 No Seat Belt (Danvers)
this isn’t a surchargeable event, but it was still a ticket
9. 3/4/2001 Speeding (Reading)
I saw the speed trap, looked at my speedometer (in my blazer) the needle was on 35 implying I was going 35mph. The speed trap cop radioed ahead to another cop, who did an illegal uturn in the middle of the road in traffic (light) to pull me over even though I was going the speed limit. He then proceeded to yell at me (I had not said a word) saying “come on! tell me you where only going 35!” over and over again, actually egging me on.
10. 5/12/2001 Speeding, Expired inspection sticker (Melrose)
11. 5/16/2001 Surchargeable accident
the funny thing is, here it is 8 months later, and my hearing date has still not come up. I was driving in rush hour traffic on a rainy day on route 1. all the cars in front of me slammed on their brakes, I did the same, and slid into the bumper of the car in front of me. I bent the license plate on his car, and dented the hood on mine. Since the hood costed more that $500, it was considered a “Major Accident” leading to my insurance going up 3 points. Its funny how $500 is the limit on what is considered a minor or major accident, and my deductible is also $500. what a great state.
12. 5/30/2001 Suspension for 7 surchargeable events
13. 8/20/2001 Hearing for 5/12 ticket.
I won the speeding ticket part, so only had to pay the inspection sticker part.
14. 8/28/2001 Suspension ended, license reinstated
15. 9/18/2001 Suspension for 8 surchargeable events
this was due to the 8/20/2001 ruling.
16. 10/22/2001 Hearing for appealing last suspension
They felt bad for me since my license had just been suspended, and theticket that caused the new one was from before the first suspension.
17. 10/22/2001 Suspension ended, license reinstated

Focus on bostoon

I am not sure how many people I mentioned it to, but on friday Focus on Boston called me, which for those of you that don’t know, they are a company that rounds up people that meet a certain criteria to do case studies and marketing suveys and things of that nature. If you make the cut, and get accepted for whichever study they are doing, you get money and maybe some free stuff.

So..on Monday I found out I made the cut or the one that were doing on tuesday, which by the way, i basically had no idea what it was about. All I know is that it had something to do with young adults, money, and credits cards. More importantly, the guy on the phone said I would get $75 for 2 hours of my time.

I show up at the place, conveinantly located near my work, and let me tell you, I have never been in a room filled with as man inept morons as at this place. It was a bunch of like 19-24 year old kids. 1 girl, and 4 guys (including myself). I strategically placed myself next to the girl, who was moderatly attractive, and the study began. First we had to introduce ourselves, I was the lucky person to go first, but the real clincher came when the semi-hot girl next to me had to introduce herself.

Her introductionw as basically as follows:
“Hi, my name is _______ I am 19, engaged, and have 2 kids. 1 is 3, the other is 6 months old”

Red lights started flashing everywhere. The Triple C train slammed on the breaks and reversed direction. So then they talk to the other mooks, one of which (a fat kid of course) referred to himself as “a renegade”. Who says that? he sure didn’t look like Lorenzo Lamas to me. Also, all his answers to everything the guy running the show asked was some fuck the system like response.

So get this. one like 1 or 2 people in the room had a savings account. Everyone pays their bills by cash or money order, noone has a checking acount, and the best part was, no one even knew what a debit card was. I had to explain it to the group. 1 of the kids had a sears credit card that he used once to buy his mechanics tools, and never used it again.

who are these people? how can you be that financially inept? they didn’t even know how you would go about researching which credit cards to get. morons!

Then I realize that the name “capital one” came up a bunch. The whole thing was a study for capital one. I hate them, they suck. So they showed us a bunch of sample envelopes capital one was thinking of using, and we where supposed to rate them on which ones we would be most likely to open. They were all stupid, you could tell they were all marketed towards certain people. Some for black teenagers, some for the MTV types…etc

I used the following phrases throughout the 2 hours:

Credit cards are evil
Credit companies are like drug dealers (then explained why)
they purposely try to suck you into their trap

basically everyone in the room hated credit cards, and the renegade kid would say these weird ass things. I think he was going to open fire in a school or something later on.

Now for the seinfeld part. Remeber the episode were everything kept evening out for Jerry? like if he lost $20, he would randomly find $20 later on?

I was told i would get $75 for the 2 hours. When I left, they gave me a check for $150, and I ran like a motherfucker out of that place. My 2 unpaid parking tickets came to $126, and the registration renewal was $41.

Hows that for luck? its very un-mike-like

lazy ass police

NWA, Rage Against the Machine, and Sepultura all had songs about them, and with good reason. The police just suck. They did nothing when I was mugged, even after I ID’d one of the bastards. Even after they were caught on video in Filenes. The police did nothing when Ashleys car was stolen. Even after her MOTHER found her stolen car, and even after the police let the 4 “suspects”, found with her posessions and ID’d on the video cameras at the location where her car was stolen from go. Still nothing happened. Essentially, the police are completely useless.

Unless it involves one thing….and that one thing is fucking with me.

Anyone that knows me knows of the massive amount of times I was pulled over. Not to say I am an innocent victim, but more to say: Are the punishments really worth the crime? if having dark windows really worth a license supsension? or a $200 ticket? Why should I pay higher insurance rates because my red license plate wasnt mounted on the front of my car, but the guy with the green license plate doesn’t need one on the front of his car?

Why am I complaining about this now (well, I have always complained about it). Because tonight, after 3 years of “good behavior” I once again got pulled over.

After a fun filled night of bowling with the boston.com bowling league, where mind you, I was on track to almost triple my previous best game (which is sad, because my score tonight was like 110). I drove two of my co-workers home. One was going to Somerville, and the other was going to Everett..both on the way to Saugus. So I am driving down Mass Ave, and I approach a light that had just turned yellow. I figured I could make it, and passed through the light just as it turned red, which is technically okay. But… the real problem was that for some stupid reason, literally 20 feet down the street was another set of lights, well actually, this was just one set of lights off on the corner of the road basically out of view. That one was already red…well before I passed through it. In fact, I didn’t even notice the light. So, to my suprise, I see the pleasant view of flashing lights in my rear view mirror, which is when you get that fun feeling in your stomache when you know the inevitable is about to happen. So I pull over, Sneak on my seatbelt, and wait for Mr. Happy Cop to come over and strike up a nice conversation.

The conversation goes as follows:
Cop: License and registration
(i give it to him)
Cop: do you know why I pulled you over?
Me: No, I am not exactly sure
Cop: you ran through one of those red lights back there
Me: are you sure? I could have sworn it was yellow when I passed through it
Cop: well…your supposed to stop if the light is yellow too
Me: but I was already pretty close to the light, I didnt want to have to stop short
Cop: I have nothing better to do, even though cars are being stolen as I speak, and a guy is being stabbed down the street. I would much rather waste my time giving you a ticket.

so he walks away, and him and his partner “keeping up the rear” ready to shoot out the window hopped into their cruser, and gave each other hand jobs for about 15 minutes before they came back out. This time the other cop comes over to me, and says:

Cop: do you know your license plate is expired?
Me: it shouldn’t be, I renewed it online a couple weeks ago (which I did)
Cop: well, the computer says its expired, maybe you had some outstanding parking tickets
Me: No, I had one of those, and I paid it a week or so before I renewed the license
Cop: well, I suck, but I am going to “really be nice” and “do you a favor”. You have two options, you can back your car up into that spot next to the parking meter, and leave your car here until you get it fixed, or I can tow your car.
Me: But I dont understand why I should have to do this. I renewed the license.
Cop: well you will have to settle that at the RMV, and then the ticket can get erased.

So I back the car up into the spot, get out, kinda slam my door..at which point the cop says “Do you want to get anything else out of your car?” and I say “no, hopefully it just gets stolen” and I walk away while he says “okay”

So the 3 of us walk into the 7-11 close by, wait a couple minutes, come out, and I get back in my car and drive away.

Fuck them.

Oddly enough, I am not nearly as angry as I normally am about this kind of stuff. I guess that is the price you pay when your Triple C

As as side note, when I got home, I checked my bank account, and there was never a transaction by the RMV, so I will have to settle this tomorrow morning with those evil trolls that work at the Melrose RMV

The RMV sucks

I went to the RMV today to clear up my registration renewal, and after waiting for 5 or 10 minutes staring at all the special plates you can buy, I could only help but wonder why someone would pay $75 for a stupid license plate, or better yet, why I need to pay $20 to renew my registration. My car is still here. I didn’t move, nothing changed. Why do I need to pay again?

Anyway, the semi-bitchy lady at the counter tells me I cannot renew my registration because I have 2 unpaid parking tickets from the city of boston, and prints out the ticket numbers for me. So I get to work, look it up online (and give the “pay ticket online” form a middle finger) and call the customer service line, and talk to one of those human types.

The lady tells me I owe $126 from 2 parking tickets. One was apparantly from 2003. and if I pay it over the automated phone system, the RMV should know about it by 11:00. So…I reluctantly did that and now I get to go back to the RMV tomorrow morning (assuming I don’t get pulled over again) and pay the $20 those bastards want.

So thats the update…..

Victorias Secret

So wednesday was my mothers birthday. 2 years ago I gave her a curio for her small Swarovski crystal collection, so since then every holiday that involves presents, I would just get her a new one of those, but I figured maybe a break was due.

The thing about my mother is that she doesnt ever tell us what she wants, so we are left fending for ourselves and looking for hints. So…on a tip from my sister Bethaney, I was informed that my mother wanted more of some perfume she likes called “Halo”, which is sold at Victoria’s Secret. Should be nice and easy right?

Not quite.

Unfortunately I have some complex with setting foot in that store. It close to terrifies me. I think I would actually be more comfortable being caught by my entire family in a porn store than be in Victoria’s Secret, as aweful a scenario as that would be.

So thats problem #1. Problem #2 is that I don’t get paid until 12:00am on Thursday, and as usual I am down to my last penny (my last 3 dollars to be exact) but luckily my boss paid me back some money he owed me, as a check. So before work on Wednesday, I head over to shithole Saugus Federal Credit Union and deposit the check in my checking account. This account was also empty.

Which then leads to my daily dose of “someone has to screw with me or the world stops”
This past 2 weeks it has been that my ATM card for this account at SFCU (that looks just lick FUCK YOU in my mind, which is great for a bank) doesn’t work. It occasionally works as a credit card, but I can’t withdraw cash, and have no way of knowing my current balance, aside from the deposit slip I just got. I went to the bank last week and they claimed “the strip was worn out and it probably wasnt reading right” I think that translates into bank talk to:
“I am a frigging moron, and I think you however, are more dumb than I, so believe my bullshit excuse and by the time you come back, chances are you will have to talk to someone else”.

So a new card is in the mail. For some reason it takes a month to get a new one, so I am fucked until then.

Which brings us to the present situation, of having to go into Victoria’s Secret. I was paranoid enough that I was going to go to pay for the perfume, and my card would get declined, and then I would have to run, so I came up with a brilliant idea. Use a check for the account. So off I go!

I figured I would call Suzanne, or “Zanne” as she seems to be called these days, and possibly make go in, or at least with me, but she apparantly was still working, so I was stuck to fend for myself, So I go to the Square One Mall, go to the entrance of Victoria’s Secret, take a deep breath, and dive in.

I go in there and just see bras, panties and other lingerie everywhere, and no perfume, which is disturbing enough because I have my mind set on a birthday present for my mother. The link betwee n lingerie and mother should never ever ever ever ever be made. My goal was to get in and out of there fast, and it wasn’t going good for me so far.

Then I see that there was a seperate section/store/entrance for the perfumes and stuff, so I head over there, where I am immediately attacked by a fairly attractive girl (mid 20’s i’d say), who asks if I need any help. At this point my complex is almost in full effect, and the temperature in the store suddenly goes from slightly uncomfortable 80 degrees, to a boiling hot 5000 degrees. I saw metal turning into liquid around me.

I stumble through saying “do you have some perfume called…..ummnnn…uhhhh….halo or something like that?”

She responds with sure, its right over here, and comes out from behind the counter. I swear she psyched me out and faked a left, and I ended up almost knocking her over. She laughed, and I cried, and the temperature then reached 6000 degrees. She brings me over to the “Halo section” and she shows me this gift sent thing that came in a purdy box and had some lotion with it to “for only $2 more!” So I bought that right up and she brought it to the counter. Now I get really nervous, becauase I am going to be paying by check with my shoddy account that barely works, although it definately has the $50 needed for the perfume in it. So she rings it up, asks for my license to take care of the check, I start to write the check and realize my hands are actually shaking. I think i was actually at risk for a stroke or something right then. It probably looked like I stole the check book and was really nervous about that. Realizing that only made things worse for me, I swear when I handed her the check, although I was trying with all my might to not do it, i think the check was trembling in my hand, my forehead was getting sweaty, and I was abou to die right there at the register.

Why do I have such a problem with this store?

So she is typing for what may have been 40 minutes on this touch screen, and to my horror then slides the check into the computer. It’s going to electronically transfer the money! nooooo! then I start hearing those unhappy beeps computers make when you do things wrong, and I am waiting for her to say something like “Sorry, the computer says your a deadbeat and don’t pay your bills, we can’t accept checks from you” but she pushes the touch screen for another 20 minutes and hands me my receipt. Success!

I pick up my balls and head for the door, still on the verge of a stroke.

Aside from this entire event, the saddest part is that I was probably in there for 5 minutes, and what is even more sad is that it took me another 20 minutes after I left there to calm down.

This is all just more evidence that I am a nut case. a psycho nut case that needs help