Ripe Wicked Plum

Current Mood: Blah blah blah. Work sucked.

Current food: Powdered donuts and coke
Click the link below to view the story, or stick around to read my blah-blah-me-me stuff. Hehe.

Okay, folks. I'll try to type up more tomorrow night when I get home from work. Wish me luck too, on finding that damn second notebook that had the rest of Working Girl in it. (Stabs messy room) Oh well, it'll turn up. I only have a gajillion notebooks lying around. Oh! And my birthday was last week. I turned 23. I can't believe I've been writing Buffy stories since I was sixteen or seventeen. Did that many years pass by already? Jesus. Anyway, I want to try to update the layout of my site, making it pretty, pretty. I haven't done that in over a year and it's so much fun to do. I don't know why, but I like playing with photoshop and coding.

Anyway, enjoy the story, hope to get to the good stuff soon. Ta ta!

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Okay folksies. I got the first section of Working Girl retyped, so I'm posting part Six A just in my livejournal. I won't be posting on my site until I'm done. Anyway...here's working girl part 6-A. Enjoy!

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Current Mood: Exhausted

Current food: Ravioli, Caramel Latte, and cherry soda

Blah. When the shit hits the fan around here, the shit hits the fan threefold.

First, my internet connection goes down. Then, my computer crashes (a-fricking-bloody-hell!) and I have to reformat everything.

Then, joy of all joys, I was diagonsed with bi-polar disorder.

Now, my insurance company is refusing to pay for my treatment and I have a zillion dollars racked up in medical expenses.

Just give me some time, folks, until I get everything sorted out around here again. Working Girl is nearly finished, writing wise, not typing. Instead of putting out the whole thing as the final chapter, as soon as I refinish typing out the previous section, I'll post that and then work on getting the other typed out between working overtime and my other shit. :p Other than working on that, I'm not going to be online very much, so just so ya know...still alive, just frustrated.

Just for fun, a current tally of my babies

4 Bearded Dragons
Loki
Boomer
Quigley
Crazy Cora
12 Snakes
2 Okeetee (Aries & Discord)
2 Crimson (Inanna & _____no name yet)
2 Ghost (Orion & Celestis)
2 Amelanistic (Achilles & Brius)
1 Motley Albino (Camunda)
1 Bull Snake (Helios)
1 Striped Motley (Vulcan)
1 Rough Green Snake (Ceres)

1 San Salvadore Green Iquana (Zeus)
2 Anoles-One cuban, one green
1 Cuban Frog
2 Cats (Salem and Kali)
2 Dogs (Duchess and Gigi)
1 Cockatoo (Largo)

Current Mood: Sickly

Current movie: Constantine...this one always makes me crave nicotine, dammit!

Well, folks, I'm currently enjoying an upper respiratory tract infection this week. Since Saturday, I had been enjoying an ever-growingly painful ear infection; the fun part about that is that it hurts, but it’s not really something to call out for, so I kept working. Finally, on Monday, when my boss saw that I was pretty out of it, and one of the techs told her I had an earache, she sent me home early and the next day I headed down to the doctor.

So much fun…I go into the walk-in clinic, thinking I have an ear infection and come out with respiratory problems. So, they got me on antibiotics, Sudafed, aspirin AND making me snort saline solution so my nasal passages don’t try out because of the Sudafed and make my nose bleed. Oh, and by the way, if anyone gets prescribed Biaxin XL, remember that when they say ’take with food’ they mean like…a real meal. I just took it after a snack and felt like throwing up for the rest of the day. Oh, and be prepared to have your mouth taste like someone farted in it, then forced you to eat a piece of rotting flesh, and then farted in it again. Pleasant. But I’m already starting to feel better, as long as I take the aspirin and Sudafed to keep the liquid from building up behind my ears and causing the ear aches. I’m scheduled for a follow up visit next week, after my antibiotics run out to see if the infection has run it’s course.

Annnywayy, for some fun news:

My dad mowed the lawn again this week (For the second time…and the grass is already nearly ready to be cut again. I think my dad’s about ready to rip it out. Heh.), and managed to not only catch me a second Glass Lizard, but also a baby Rat snake (aka Corn Snake). At first, he was a glossy grayish-black, but he finished shedding today, and it looks like he may turn orange after another couple sheds. Pretty!

I love early summer in Florida. Our house is absolutely covered in baby lizards, baby geckos and baby frogs. My sister right now is contemplating starting the baby frog liberation front, as she just found out I’ve been giving the rat snake little baby frogs, since he doesn’t seem to like the crickets so much. I love my froggies, but that’s the circle of life. :Hums lame song from ‘The Lion King’. Luckily, my uncle gave me an old 29 gallon tank he had sitting at his house, so I have another tank for a habitat. Our house is starting to resemble a zoo, what with all the animals around here. Seriously, I took a tally today:

One rat snake (not sure what breed, yet, I’ll have to wait till he’s older to really tell, I guess, but I‘m guessing it may be a red rat snake)
One Red-Eared Slider whose getting huge (Turtle! Whee!)
Two Eastern Glass Lizards (Legless lizards)
One Green Tree-frog (Beautiful emerald color with a white stripe running down his sides.)
Four Cuban Tree Frogs (That’s the type that ate my anole. Sniffles.)
One Bearded Dragon
Two cats
Two dogs
One Cockatoo
Tropical fish
An assortment of baby frogs that are soon to be dinner
About three thousand crickets (I just learned today that if you put your hand in the cage and aren’t careful, they’ll swarm up your arm. Know I know what the Egyptians felt like.)

I can’t wait till we move into our new house, and I can finally get this gorgeous partial albino corn snake I’ve had my eyes on for a very long time at my favorite reptile store.

Now that I got another tank, I intend to make it for lizards, such as Green Anoles, a Cuban Brown Anoles, Geckos and whatever the hell else I can lay my hands on.

And don’t worry, in the midst of all the reptile-y and sicky goodness, I haven’t neglected Working Girl. I’m up to 110 pages in my notebooks, and am still going.

Now, I’m going back to work. You all shoo and let me do that :p

RWP

Current Mood: Tired but productive

Current food: Cherry Coke and Oreo Overload from Coldstone

I finally got some good news on the fanfic front, guys! ::Dances::

Back in June, I started working on ‘Working Girl’ during my breaks at work. Since I didn’t want to bring my laptop to work, I’m writing it out long-hand. Which led to hand cramps and my going through two six-packs of pens and two notebooks (I‘m too lazy to use white-out, so most of the pages have one paragraph, and the rest crossed out. Heh.), but I’ve got the next to last chapter of Working Girl finished, and the end chapter is coming alone rather nicely. Since I’m currently on a roll, instead of stopping in the middle, I’m going to wait until I’m finished writing it out to type it up. Once I’m finished writing it out, typing it up might take a few extra days at the very least (Hey, have you SEEN my handwriting? Even I have trouble reading it.) but it is coming. Finally. ^_^

((EDIT: As suggested by the first poster, a disclaimer:
This hopefully soon to be coming update to Working Girl is not a result of the comment made by Maidenro, as showcased in my last post. Before she weighed in with her unwanted diatribe, I had already BEEN working on the story since mid-June between scarfing Doritos and guzzling down a 20 oz of soda on my lunch breaks, when I got them, at work. So there. Neiner neiner.))

Here’s hoping that the week I finish writing, I don’t get slammed with three more eleven to twelve hour shifts in a row. (Note to people at work: Stop. Getting. Sick. And no! Bad coworker! Nascar is not a good reason to call out and stick me with an extra four hours of work on my already sucky-ass shift! Do you know how many customers give a crap if you‘re the ONLY person in the pharmacy besides the pharmacists to man drive-through, prescription drop-off and the front register? NONE! Grrrr…)

Anyway, keep an eye out for Working Girl. Coming to a computer screen near you…unless Plummie gets carpal tunnel syndrome. I don’t think the scrip callous on my finger has ever been this freaking big. :-p

So, for some random stuff:

Recently, I purchased a two-year-old Bearded Dragon from a garage sale (Yes, pathetic, isn’t it? Who sells their pets at garage sales?!). I named her Boomer in a fit of ‘creativity.’ (You know, Australian lizard, boomer, boomerang? Yeah. I know. Lame.)

Now, when I wake up at eight am after working a twelve hour shift that went to one in the morning the night before to go use the bathroom, I’m not exactly coherent or thinking straight. Last week, I get up, walk past Boomer’s and see a clutch of eggs in the corner of her cage. Now, at this time, I had really thought that Boomer was a boy. So, imagine my confusion to see eggs in the cage. After I saw the eggs, for some reason, I decided to look around the house. I’m not exactly sure why. Perhaps I thought I was going to find a rogue chicken running around, covertly laying eggs in my lizard’s cage to confuse me. Damned chickens.

After I failed to find the evil chicken, I walked into my parents room, where my dad was working at the computer. This was the brilliant piece of conversation that followed:

Me: There’s eggs in Boomer’s cage.

Dad: Yeah, I saw that. You might want to check online to see what you should do with them. She might get upset if you take them out.

Me: No. You don’t understand. There’s eggs in Boomer’s cage.

Dad: …um…yeah…

Me: How can Boomer lay eggs? He’s a boy. Boy lizards don’t lay eggs. (This, of course, was said in a ‘Dad, are you dense?’ tone of voice)

Dad: Yes. That is right…so, the next logical conclusion would be…?

Me: …

Dad: Are you kidding me? This means Boomer is a girl, not a boy.

Me: Oh. (silently, I mull this over). I don’t get it. I’m going back to bed.

Dad: Yeah…I think you better do that.

Of course, when I wake up later, I realize how utterly ridiculous that conversation was . I’m surprised when my dad saw me again, he didn’t administer a drug test, because I must’ve sounded absolutely stoned out of my goddamned gourd.

Lately, too, I’ve been buying up used aquariums at garage sales, in which I deposit the lizards and frogs I’ve caught. I have a twenty-gallon cage for my tree frogs, a ten-gallon tank for my Glass Lizard (Legless lizard) and a five-gallon tank I use for one tree frog. Why is that one tree frog separated from my other ones, you ask?

Well, at first, he was in the tank with the others. The night after I caught him, my dad caught me a green anole and popped it in with the tree frogs. For some reason, as soon as he was put into the tank, he made a beeline for one of the plants I keep in there and stayed hidden all day. That evening, when I was misting my tanks, I startled the green anole out of hiding. After I finished misting, I went to grab them some crickets and when I came back, I saw what I thought was the anole attacking my tree frog. This was a natural assumption, as the anole was three times the size of this frog.

However, when I opened up the tank to grab the anole, imagine my surprise when I saw that the frog had the anole halfway down his throat, the poor little anole’s feet kicking and body wriggling as he was swallowed alive. While my tree frog finished digesting his unfortunate meal, I cleaned out the five-gallon tank which was currently housing my supply of mealworms and crickets and separated. Then, for the next hour, I watched the frog’s stomach wriggle and jiggle around as he digested the lizard. Then I watched him eat the twenty crickets that I had left in the cage for him to eat when he was hungry again.

Frogs, apparently, are ferocious eaters. This little frog, smaller than the length of my thumb, ate a five inch anole and then twenty crickets in less than an hour. And he may have possibly eaten another frog, since I was pretty sure I had seven frogs when I put him in the tank, and after I took him out, I could only find six. So, I’m the proud owner of the Hannibal Lector of the Tree Frog world. Sweet!

Whoops! It’s eleven fifty now and I promised my sister I’d go with her to go get her copy of Harry Potter. See you all later! Keep an eye out for my update to Working Girl, which I’m hoping will be typed up and posted by the end of the month.

RWP

Current Mood: Pissed, tired and lacking chocolate.



Well, I didn’t really want to post it this way, but I ran out of room in the comment form. Oh well. So there’s no confusion, (Ironic, really, that this led to another rant), here‘s what was posted in my Livejournal. I just finally checked my journal today to see this:

I didn't bother to read this rant. I mean why bother. Blah, blah, blah!! I only pop by on the slim chance in hell that maybe you'll finally finish "Cast Away". Really, don't say you don't have the time. These meaningless rants could be a fricken novel by now. Do I sound bitter? Oh hell yeah!! Maybe that could be the subject of your next word fest. Have you ever considered passing the story on? There are a lot of really good writers out there who take fan fic seriously. Remember your Spike/dolphin idea? That one still gives me the creeps by the way. So now you work at a pharmacy? Good for you. That's a mature, responsible job for an adult. You know what is also a mature, responsible thing? Finish what you start!! And if your not the person for the job then give it to some one else who is capable. Hey, this bitch fest thingy does feel kind of good. Of course, I'm sure it has fallen on deaf ears. What can I say that people haven't been saying for sometime. And this is long over do I might add. Please update your stories.

MaidenRo



Dear MaidenRo,

You know, I always appreciate an avid fan. I'm glad you enjoy my stories. I am sorry that I haven't updated Castaway, or any of my other stories in a long while, and I do have a number of reasons why it's taken so long. It's because I prioritize. How do I do this? Well, I take a look at things in my life that need doing and I do them in the order of importance. Family, Pets, Work, De-stressor activities (Kayaking, swimming, snorkeling, whenever I manage to get a damn day off), Work on various plot-bunnies that hopping madly about my computer.

Notice where fan fiction falls in this list of priorities? Yeah. It’s last. You know why? Because I don’t intend to compromise those other priorities that, you know, keep me happy, fed and sane.

Now, I'm going to tell you the same thing that I told people when they insisted I change the ending of Pride and Prejudice.

These are my stories. I write them because I enjoy writing them. I will post what feels right to me. I do not compromise my stories nor myself because of criticism. I love all my fans, but the fact of the matter is, I don’t write for them. I write for myself. Don’t get offended by that, because, hey, it’s true. Celebrities say all the time that they do a movie/tv show/theatre ’for the fans’ but that is such utter bullshit. They do what they do for the publicity, ego-trip, fat paycheck, recognition and whatever the hell else. I’m not begrudging them that, to each their own, but for me, it’s not about the fans. I love that people enjoy my stories, I’m flattered by what small recognition I have in the fandom, but I won’t bullshit about the fact that I DO THIS BECAUSE I ENJOY IT! IT IS A GODDAMN HOBBY!

I don’t get paid. I don’t get royalties from Mutant Enemy, or even the occasional blow-job from Joss Whedon. In fact, I’m paying out over a hundred and forty dollars a year to support HIS show and pimp his characters out to an internet audience.

Fanfiction is my hobby. It is not my first priority by a long shot. Most people seem to understand this and don’t attack me for not updating my stories in what they deem is a timely fashion. When I feel that I have a good continuation of Castaway (Unlike the ones that are currently littering my desktop), I will update. Or I could just post utter crap that’s cliché, with dry dialogue or, as was suggested to me by some eviler fans, I could end Castaway with ’Rock falls, everyone dies, including cute little Will.’

Now, the way I see it, you have a few choices. You can either pay me to be your own personal little type-writer monkey and trust me, the cost will be dear, decide not to continue reading my stories, (in which case I can honestly say I am sorry to lose a fan, but them’s the breaks,) or you can come to my house, kill my family, kill my pets, make me lose my job and steal my kayak, (I wouldn’t suggest this one. I sleep with large swords in my room), or you can wait until Castaway is updated.

I will repeat this again, in case you’ve missed it the first time.

Fanfiction is my hobby. I will not compromise my personal life, my happiness nor what small creative urges I have for the fan fiction god anymore. I already sacrificed my grades in high school for this hobby, causing myself to lose out on a scholarship and I ended up in community college instead of Temple, and, as a mature, responsible adult, I learned from my stupid, immature mistakes and rectified them.

I will update Castaway when I update it. I will update Evil Dead when I update it. I will update “insert story of choice here” when I update it.

In the meantime, check your attitude, honey. I don’t know if you know, but this attitude is why a lot of really good writers (much, MUCH better writers than me) have dropped out of the fandom, never to be seen there again. They got pissed off at the fighting, snippiness and pure audacity of people who assumed that they were not people on the other side of the computer screen, but mindless automatons turning out fine-quality smut for the appeasement of the rapid masses. Remember those writers are living, breathing human beings with their own needs, desires and problems outside of your own little internet world.

I’m sorry if you or any other fan is pissed off by this, but this shit is really getting on my fucking nerves. I love you guys, but Jesus Christ on a Pogo Stick….imagine every time you open up your mailbox, you see shit like this. It’s getting goddamn irritating.

((FORGIVE ANY SPELLING OR GRAMMAR MISTAKES. IT'S LATE AND I'M SLEEPY!))

Current Mood: Tired and Cranky. Pharmacy sucks!

Current Food: Caffeine, baby! WOOT!

Quote of the Day:
Coworker: People are SO nasty and mean sometimes!
Me: You know what's wrong with people today? They don't believe in gypsy curses. I mean, I just waved my hands in the air and said in a real spooky voice "You shall suffer the wrath of my angered ancestors! Doom! DOOM!" Nothing. Nada. Zilch.


Aw. Another Plummie rant. I figured I'm especially qualified to vent on this subject, since I work in a pharmacy. Okay, so, I've only been there for a couple of weeks, but I think that's enough experience, don't you? ^_^

There's a new disturbing trend sweeping the nation, thanks to the ever-so-wonderful Religious Right. Which is, as some of you may have already heard, legislation protecting the 'religious beliefs' of pharamacists.

What's the big deal, some of you may ask. Don't you think someone's religion should be protected? Of course I do. I don't think anyone's religion should be discriminated against. I may mock the fuck out of it, but at least I think they should be protected, as long as no one's civil rights are violated and no one is put into direct danger by purchasing Nike sneakers and quaffing tainted Kool-Aid.

However, a line has been clearly crossed by the Religious Right in this new travesty. Pharmacists in some states are now allowed to refuse to dispense birth control based on the fact that they believe it to be morally wrong since it kills babies.

So, let me break this down for you.

A doctor writes you a prescription. You mosey on down to the nearest drug store, only to find out that the pharamacist will refuse to fill the medication a doctor has prescribed to you because he basically thinks you're a dirty baby-killing whore. They may not call you a baby-killing whore to your face, but I believe we can agree that it's heavily implied just because they refuse to dispense your birth control.

Again, you may ask, what's the big deal? You can always go to another drug store. But what happens if THAT pharmacist also refuses to dispense your birth control? Or if that's the only drug store in your town? What then? Okay, you can use condoms, but why should you have to do that if a DOCTOR gave you a prescription for birth control pills, for Godsakes? Or what if you aren't recieving birth control pills for birth control but for hormone regulation, like my mother? Why is some dumb-fuck backwards-pharmacist allowed to dictate what your contraception options shall be? That's YOUR choice, not HIS!

What the big deal is that some schmuck in a fucking lab coat sits there on his moral high horse and refuses to do the job he was hired to do: dispense medications. I don't care if a pharmacists attends six-years of school to become one. Your job is simple: Make sure people get the medications they were prescribed. You don't get to decide who gets to take what and when. That's the doctors job. You dispense medications. It doesn't matter who is taking it or why they are taking it, it is your JOB TO FILL LEGITIMATE PRESCRIBTIONS, JACK-ASS!

Let's look at it this way:

You have a job at McDonald's. One day, you decide that you don't want to sell hamburgers anymore because you became a vegan. You belief the slaughter of animals for sustance is wrong. Do you really think McDonald's is going to put up with that for more than a couple hours? Guarenteed, you'd be told to finish out your shift and never come back. Or, if you want to cite religious reasons, you become Hindu and you believe eating the meat of cow is wrong and refuse to perform the job for which you were hired, religious reasons or not, do you think you'd still have a job by the end of the day? No. Fucking. Way. It's not religious discrimination if you no longer can perform the job you were hired to do.

So, how come pharmacists can get away with shit like that? How can they refuse to dispense medications that a doctor has prescribed for you?

Because, the Religious Right says, it's religious discrimination to force them to fill the prescription.

Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I forgot. Christianity is the most oppressed religion out there. Sorry, Jews. You tried REAL hard with the Holocaust and all, but can't you see? Christians just can't catch a break here.

Let's just forget the fact that the Religious right is fighting discrimination with discrimination. It's all right to fight religious discrimination by discriminating against women.

Puh-leeze, people, let's use logic. If Martin Luther King Jr. had used this sort of logic, he would have suggested that instead of whites discriminating against African Americans, Whites and African-Americans should discriminate against Asians instead. Luckily, unlike some of State legislators, MLK Jr. wasn't an escaped retarded dirt-weasel..

The funny thing is, the Religious Right is just covering their own asses to put forward their own agenda: it's not about religion. It's about limiting the control a woman has over her own body. They believe all life is sacrosanct, and since woman is the only one who can give life, her rights should be more fucked than a well-lubricated Tracy Lords after a twenty-guy gang-bang. Forget the fact that birth control is perfectly legal; this is their way of dodging the law that says women have the right to decide what to do with their own friggin-bodies. Let's even forget the fact that a woman on birth control pills is less likely to get pregnant and have an ACTUAL abortion then a woman who ISN'T taking birth control pills or using any other form of contraception other than condoms, which can break or leak.

In fact, let's forget logic all-fucking-together. It's not even about logic. It's about the Religious Right edging evverrrrr so slowly over that frail line that protects a woman's rights. They want to see how far they can go before we'll try to make them stop. Unfortunately, too many people are apathetic about the issue. Why does a few pharmacists refusing to give out birth control matter all that much? Because, with every small victory the Religious Right wins, they're all the more closer to crossing that line completely and tearing down Roe VS Wade before we have a chance to protest. Before you know it, we'll be back to back-alley abortions and watching our lives circle the drains because we couldn't take one pill...one fucking little pill...that would've made all the difference in the world.

Oh, and one last thing:

If this were really about morality and religion, pharamcists wouldn't just refuse to give out birth control. They would refuse to give out Viagra as well, since the drug is clearly intended for sexual purposes and for fornication. However, you have yet to hear ONE complaint about a pharmacist refusing to dispense Viagra.

Who cares if a woman gets saddled with a kid as long as you can get it up for the altar boy, right?

People make me fucking sick sometimes.

Current Mood: Tired and cranky

Current Food: Swedish Fish (Red ones, yay!)

Current Job: Pharmacy Techinician

Just to clear a few things up that have been a source of confusion among a few people lately.

1.) I'm Atheist. According to dictionary.com, an Atheist is "one who disbelieves or denies the existence of God or gods." Therefore, logically speaking, I am unable to 'hate' someone I don't believe in. I suppose you could argue that an Atheist could hate the idea of God, but that's neither here nor there regarding the subject matter. I feel nothing, one way or another about his supposed existance. You believe in him? Great! More Christ cookies for you. I don't, but you can't claim that I hate God just because I don't believe in him. That's ludricrous and Darwin, who incidentally has been proven to exist, hates you. Just FYI.

2.) In reference to subject 1, I don't believe in God, so I don't think constantly calling me sacrilegious is much of an insult. I'm supposedly commiting sacrilege against a God-entity that I don't believe in. Why even bother bringing this up? You might as well as call a dog who pisses on the wall of a church sacrilegious for all the good it will do you.

3.) Because of subject 1 and 2, I stand by my statement that Easter is a celebration of Flesh-Eating Zombie Jesus. Sorry mom.

RWP

(Disclaimer: Yes, I know that the idea of Flesh-Eating Zombie Jesus is offensive to Christians. However, at this point in time, I'm pretty sure that if people haven't figured out yet that I'm pretty goddamn offensive nearly 90% of the time on this journal, what with my porn, fucking-foul-mouthed swearing, and nearly nonexistent political correctness, then you may just be stupid to be insulted. If you can't laugh at yourself or your own beliefs every once in a while, then seek the professional help of a proctologist for an immediate Humoroutofassectomy.)

So, an update on the previous post.

My manager, Mr. B. heard about the shit they pulled with my coworker, and called up to give the Subway people hell on our behalf. Apparently, the manager was pretty ticked off at her employees and promised to call the owner. She showed up at the liquor store, wanting to talk to me and drop off some free food coupons or something like that.

Woot! Cool Manager and Me: 1
Dumbass Underage Subway Peons: 0

Current Mood: Tired and Pissy

Current Food: Cherry coke and Smoothie Flavored Skittles (Eh…they could be better.)

Quote of the Day: (Conversation between one of my managers and I)

Me: How come every time I flash my completely fake customer-service smile at old men, they think I’m friggin’ hitting on them?

Manager: Well, they’re like flowers, and you’re the rain. When you smile at them, they bloom.

Me: Wow. Seriously, man…that’s like…the gayest analogy I’ve ever heard.

Manager: Yeah. Pretend I didn’t say that :pretends to scratch balls: Okay. I’m manly again.


By the way, not only are some of my customers incredibly fucking stupid, but they’re vindictive little pricks too.

Apparently, working at the Subway sharing the same shopping center as the liquor store I’m working at, are two kids I refused a liquor sale too. Why, I’m not sure. They probably came in together and one of them didn’t have ID when I carded them. That’s most of my sale-refusals right there.

Anyway, earlier today, one of my coworkers, a short blonde girl (I’m semi-tall with red hair) who I look nothing like, went into the Subway. The two kids I refused a sale to tried to tell her that they wouldn’t give her service because they thought she was the one who had told them their dumb asses that they couldn’t buy liquor.

So, yeah, let’s break down the non-logic of their position.

I didn’t sell them liquor because at least one of them didn’t have an ID or one of them was underage. If I had sold to them and they were underage, I’d be liable. If they got caught with the liquor and they found out that I sold it to them, I would lose my job, possibly be fined $5000 AND I could go to jail.

Basically, I did my fucking job. Which mostly means whatever I friggin’ do, don’t EVER sell liquor to a minor or even sell liquor if I even have the teeniest suspicion that the liquor could end up in a minor’s hands. It doesn’t matter if one of the kids had ID. If it turns out the other one was underage and they go back over the video footage and see me selling the liquor with him standing there, I’m LIABLE!

For them, this means they’re justified in denying me a frigging sandwich. Basically, being penalized by their not doing their job for doing mine. Yeah. Great logic there, kiddies. Let’s punish everyone who does their job.

So, right now, I have a couple options.

A.) Call up their manager and complain on behalf of my coworker.
B.) Go into the store myself, get refused a sale, get their names, the name of their managers, including General Manager and the owner, AND the number of Subway Corporate.
C.) Ignore it. I hate Subway anyway. Publix has better hoagies.

You know, I wonder if they’ll see the humor in all of this. If they called my Corporate and complained about my refusing them a sale, Corporate would just tell them, ’Oh, too bad, so sad. No ID, no booze, retard. You don’t need alcohol anyway. You don’t want to kill whatever few precious brain cells you have left.’ I’m sure if I call their corporate, if they aren’t fired, at the very least, they’re going to get into a lot of shit for refusing my sale. Especially if I tell them how they tried to refuse the sale to my coworker, especially in light of how many of my coworkers actually buy their dinners there.

I know I probably should let it go, I never go there anyway…but there’s soooo few chances when you can legitimately exact revenge on bastard customers. Aww…choices, choices, choices.