Early Thanksgiving

It looked like it was going to be the Sunday from hell: three screaming children, irritated and cranky customers and lines five people deep at each register. I had only gotten to work a half an hour before and already, I wanted to go home.

Then I noticed someone sitting in a motorized shopping cart. The customer looked female and her hair, short and blonde. I stopped and stared. She was also wearing a black jacket. No way, I thought. There's no way it can be her. Can it? I leaned over and took another look. My jaw fell open in shock.

It was Sharon.

I nearly dropped an S-bomb right then and there. I had heard that Sharon had gotten out of the hospital and that she had gone home but beyond that, I knew nothing. Now, here she was, looking a bit thinner than she was in August but otherwise all right.

I needed a moment, as I wanted to start crying. It had been touch and go for a while back in August.

Sharon came over and hugged me. Again, I was about to burst into tears but I was just so glad to see her. She can walk unassisted for short distances and she's admitted her taste in food has changed but she's better. She's a lot better. Which is a huge load off of the rest of us on the front end. To say we're glad is putting it very mildly.

As for Justine: she's undergoing yet another competency evaluation. This is her third, if I recall correctly. The prosecution thinks that she may be faking her mental illness, but others aren't so sure. Supposedly though, Justine has been telling people that she'll be home by Thanksgiving.

I hate to break it to her, but I seriously doubt that it'll happen.

--Weasel, "It'll be a good Thanksgiving this year, no matter who says what."

COMMUNICATIONS INTERRUPT: IT'S THE MOST WONDERF-HELL TIME OF THE YEAR

Holy geez. Last time I brought out a CI was right around this time of year, but in 2011. But it's not primarily my blog, so I'm not the bloody slacker around here.

WingTackLE (not to be confused with WingTackER, the W name I used LAST TIME ON RHYMES WITH IDIOT) is still slacking off, clearly. Not so understandable this time around, even though she's still doing the same damn things I naffed off about last time; scrawling less-than-furiously in notebooks, keeping me awake as she screws around on the Pokémon GTS looking for trades--the current X and Y games, naturally, and commiserating with anyone who'll listed about the latest news coming out of the Brewers organization (Corey Hart has interest from three teams besides the Crew but nothing will come of it until he's given a clean bill of health after sitting out the entire 2012 season). Again. The seeming usual.

Black Friday is UPCOMING, and WingTackle is not put out about the shifts she's working this year beyond having to work Thanksgiving Day at all. It means, unfortunately, another twinday of narcissitic shitheads giving her grief because they're not being served immediately--fuck those customers ahead of them, right?--and the fake-ass simpering dicks pretending commiseration that anyone at all has to work on such a family-oriented time of the year while simultaneously passing the plastic to her and shushing the three knee-high irritations who are all clamoring (and oh, YES, sometimes CURSING) for three different toys.

I see no reason to go out, either day, beyond giving her an escape during lunch and leaving a generous tip for whoever might serve us at whichever establishment we frequent. Mental health via Applebee's or somesuch. Yeah, it works.

She's quite better about the whole shooting thing, as you might imagine. The idiotic jokes from oh-so-'clever' people have trickled away to nearly nothing. Few jump at loud noises anymore. The shooter is a complete fruitbat. You can read up on this nutbar if you like, but you won't do it here, at least not by my hand.

Been keeping busy myself, when time allows. Usual crap, mostly. Been running, for a good year, an alliance on one of the mobile card games, MARVEL: WAR OF HEROES; our alliance's very simple blogsite is here, if you give a flying damn and/or play. Small community of players who've grown to be friends, I think.

+++PRIME OUT+++GODDAMN CAP WALLS+++

Loud as a Whisper

I know I haven't updated. There's been a very good reason. The past month has not been kind.

Those random shootings that have been popping up on television and dominating the news in the US hit far too close to home for me. In August, there was a shooting at my store. One of the cashiers brought a pair of semi-automatic pistols, along with 22 rounds of ammunition and shot a "rival" cashier. Her reasoning? The rival had been getting easier jobs and she shot her in a fit of jealousy.

I was there the day it happened. Although I saw nothing, I heard everything. It was not a good day.

I've been coping as well as can be expected. I'm not as badly traumatized as some of the others. On that day, I refused to go home; I stayed until the end of my shift. It wasn't easy but I managed somehow. I will admit to grabbing a wine cooler when I got off the clock for the day. Experts tell you not to, as they advise against using a substance that is considered depressive but on that day, I needed something to calm me down. I will also admit to sleeping in until well past noon the next day, as I wasn't scheduled to go in. I will also admit to jumping at loud noises for a couple of weeks afterward and the sound of gunfire will make me flinch. I have no idea how long I will continue that behavior.

I am reminded of a strip from あずまんが大王 (Azumanga Daioh): when Chyo-chan mentions that she wants to study in America, her friend Miss Osaka says that if she does, she'll be shot. The first time I read that strip I shook my head and laughed. It really wasn't so bad here in the States, I thought. We didn't have that big a gun problem.

I'm not laughing anymore.

--Weasel

An Update

Yeah, I'm going to post more, as I'm doing this in Opera now. IE seriously sucks and though Opera is glitchy, it's a hair bit more stable. (You don't want to know how slow and unreliable Internet Explorerer can be.) I'll try to have my BotCon report up by the end of the week; wish me luck.

--Weasel

Lovely

Apparently, our latest member of management is Melissa, the same female who tried to ban me from the self-checks a few years ago. From what I hear, she's going to be a co-manager.

I could seriously cry now.

My Life as a WTF? Moment Part 2

Management has made me a patsy. Or rather, us a patsy. And by us, I mean the entire front end.

So we recently got a My$hare bonus but it was the paltry sum of $135. According to management the reason it was so low could be laid at the feet of the cashiers. According to them, we were doing too many ad matches, not getting perishable items back to the proper areas in time, etc. Yeah apparently, we're not doing our job.

Yeah, that's a load of crap and they all know it. It's the shrink that's killing us, the fact that we overorder crap and let it sit in the back until it expires, the fact that no one in the building cares enough to actually try and do their stupid job that's killing us. For example: Mike in Receiving had to throw out seven carts full of four month old yogurt that never made it to the sales floor; the stuff was shoved in a cooler and promptly forgotten. It's that stuff that's hurting the profits and not us cashiers.

But don't tell that to management. Since none of them are ever wrong.

And people wonder why I look forward to the Robot Apocalypse. Hey, the machines can't screw things up any worse than humans can, am I right? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go do something useful, like hatch Elekid eggs until I get a shiny.

--Weasel, "If you need me, I'll be on Route 3!"

My Life As a WTF? Moment

It's been an interesting couple of weeks, to say the least. Everyone at work is on edge, my poor sweet car Scamper had to spend some time in a garage getting repaired (he's better now) and we've had yet another stupid snowstorm. Our Toy department has been utter crap and there's been nothing new in stock for weeks. On top of that, we've started a new system at my place of employment--now we have to scan our badge at a computer not simply at the start of the day, but after every single break. The system sends us to whichever register it sees fit and most assignments are total crap. Everyone hates the new system, the CSMs are constantly overriding it and it frustrates me to no end. Oh and on top of that, Transfomers: Prime will come to end with the latest story arc subtitled Beasthunters.

Yeah, it hasn't been fun.

There have been some bright spots to all the mess: the announcement of Pokemon X and Y, along with a brand new Eeveelution have helped keep my spirits up and my current shiny hunt--Elekid--have kept me occupied. We're getting Meloetta in March so there's a little something to look forward to in the meantime.

It can all get better. That's what I keep telling myself. Eventually, I might believe it.

--the very beleaguered Weasel

Still Here

The holidays have been rough--my days off have been split for the past several weeks but things are getting back to semi-normal now.

I'm just tired. Very, very tired.

In Blackest Night

So I've gotten my schedule for Thanksgiving and Black Friday--I'm working both days. Thanksgiving is a 7:45 to 12:30 night shift while Black Friday is a normal 10 to 7.

Lovely. I am going to be utterly exhausted.

I don't mind working Black Friday but working Thanksgiving is going to be a bitch. I hate being around people on that day; I don't have many good memories of the holiday in general. Most of my early memories involve running to my room and sobbing because I was being screamed at by my mother. This happened not once, but every year--Mom would get so stressed out by doing the cooking that she'd lose it. As for the dinner, I never enjoyed the meal at all and didn't see the point of eating all that stuff to show thankfulness. By late afternoon, I was bored out of my mind due to the nonstop football. The only really good memories I have of Thanksgiving are watching the Macy's Day Parade and when I was allowed to wander around Kmart when we took my great-grandmother home. This was back when things actually closed down on Thanksgiving, so the parking lot was empty and I felt like the only person left in the world.

The older I got, the less I liked the holiday. Now it's to the point where I can't stand it and would rather be left alone on that particular Thursday. I could deal with working Black Friday, especially those hours but Thursday will be tough. I usually end up in a bad mood on that day to begin with and being around greedy customers won't help.

Primus, give me the strength to get me through the next few days. I am going to need it.

--Weasel, "Most wonderful time of the year, my ass."

So....

Who else is glad that we won't have to deal with political ads for a while?

One Down...

Congrats to the Tigers as they head to the World Series!

Go

Read this. That's all I'll say about it.

Dear PeTA,

Do me a huge favor and piss off. Seriously.

You are the same organization that unapologetically kills more animals than you save, so you have no room to throw stones. This is nothing more than a publicity stunt and anyone with a functional brain will figure that out.

Don't get me wrong: I adore animals and I have a cat but this is pathetic, even by your standards. It's bad enough that you went after Mario because of the Tanooki suit but this is beyond the pale. Pokémon? Seriously?! And you guys weren't expecting to be laughed out of the room for your idiocy?! Not only that just how many animals died, waiting for help that never came because you threw so much behind creating this moronic wad of BS?!

Oh well, I'm just going to sit and wait for your insane take on the Angry Birds franchise, because we all know that's coming. If anyone does crazy well, it's you guys. Until then, go dissipate like the small gust of flatulence in the breeze that you truly are.

Yours truly,

Weasel

Road Trip!

I'll be heading out to Milwaukee in a little bit. Going to see my Crew play. I cannot wait!

--Weasel, "Get me some cheese fries in a helmet and I'm good."

Season's End

Current song stuck in my head: It Is Such a Good Night by The Charlie Steinmann Orchestra & Singers

This afternoon, Prime and I were able to attend the last home game of the Timber Rattlers, in hopes that they could gain a 2-0 advantage over the visiting Fort Wayne TinCaps. This was no ordinary game; not only was it the closing game of the home season for the Rattlers, it was also one of the Midwest League Championship series. In other words, the season is swiftly coming to a close.

Yes, it's depressing and the weather seemed to match my mood a bit--it was overcast with the occasional sprinkle or two. But hey, we were at a baseball game so that didn't really matter.

Although things looked pretty good for a while, the TinCaps turned and trounced us with a final score of 5-1. No matter what any of the Rattlers players hit, it was either a pop-up or right at a TinCaps fielder. The wind, along with other factors seemed to be working against them today.

The series is tied 1-1. It'll be finished out in Fort Wayne, which is a lovely area. I should know: I've been there a few times for BotCon. If I weren't working this weekend, I'd probably be insane enough to ask Prime if we could go on a little roadtrip, but that won't happen. (Me, a weekend off? Surely you jest.)

This is one of the first real signs of fall: Minor League baseball closes down for the year. That means that the Major Leagues are focussing on penant runs and the playoffs are weeks away. In other words, summer is over and that's a bit depressing.

No matter how the series in Fort Wayne goes, I'll be proud of the Rattlers. It was a winning season and Prime and I were able to catch some great games in the latter part of the season. Come next year, I hope to grab a seat at Time Warner Cable Field at Fox Cities Stadium and see even more games. It'll be a long wait, but well worth it.

--Weasel, stocking up on peanuts and Cracker Jack

Angel in Disguise

Current song stuck in my head: If God Will Send His Angels - U2.

Yesterday wasn't a great day. Or at least, it didn't start that way. Prime wasn't in a great mood and snapped at me which only put me in a bad mood and made me want to cry.

Normally, I don't really want to go to work, but yesterday I was glad to see the building. I felt even better when I saw what was in the parking lot.

It was a Camaro. A 2010 Camaro. In yellow. And sporting racing stripes, no less. I already knew that I had to get a closer look at it when I got the chance. So when Prime dropped me off, I took a few steps to the building, then raced to the car in the parking lot. As I slipped my knapsack on my other shoulder, my breath caught in my throat.

There was a sigil beneath the word "CAMARO" on the car. Even at the distance I was standing, I knew exactly what it was.

It was an Autobot sigil. The Camaro that was in my store's parking lot was a Bumblebee edition. Now I had to get a better look at him.

He was, in a word, beautiful: bright yellow paint contrasting with the deep ebony stripes that ran across his hood and back, an Autobot sigil embroidered in his upholstery, the Chevy logo gleaming on his steering wheel and front grille. A thing of beauty, he was. It took all my strength not to bend close and kiss the top of his driver's side door. He was that gorgeous.

That urge to cry, the feeling of stupidity and awkwardness that I had felt not five minutes before was gone. I didn't feel like such an idiot and I didn't feel quite so alone now. Bumblebee was nearby; I was all right. Everything would be fine. After I said a soft good-bye and thank you, I walked into the store, a huge grin on my face. Who cared if Prime wanted to play the sourpuss? It didn't matter to me anymore.

Later on, Prime did give me a call on my cell and apologized. But it was rather moot at that point. I was past caring about the debacle that had been the morning. My mood had been lifted by an angel.

It's been said that angels appear to us in forms that we can comprehend. Most think of angels and see humanoids with white, fluffy wings. My angel is different: he has wings, but they double as car doors. Sometimes he can speak, other times he needs a radio to communicate. But he's always a robot.

He's Bumblebee. And he's my guardian angel. What happened yesterday proves it yet again.

--Weasel, "If Primus will send his hearlds/Sure could use them here right now..."

Sunday Morning Surprise

Or:
Rescuing the Rescuer

Late Saturday night I spotted it, a level 12 Japanese Golett with a nickname. How did I know the little guy had a nickname? The characters were radically different than that of a normal, un-named Golett's species name. A level 12, nicknamed, no hold item but the Trainer wanted a Landorus in exchange for this Golett.

Under normal circumstances, I might have let that go. But two things were picking at me: the fact that it was nicknamed and the fact that it was at level 12.

Now, I know what you're thinking--what the heck does level have to do with anything? The lowest level you can find one of these little guys is 1, if they've been bred. But you can also spot them at level 10, if they happen to come from the Dream World. Because of this, I decided to take the risk; I'd try and make the trade and perhaps I'd get another Dream Worlder.

Since I had no Landorus of my own, I offered up a Kyurem, hoping that someone would take some pity on me and surrender a Landorus that I could use. A couple of hours passed. Nothing. I couldn't wait all night so I went to bed, hoping that I'd get my answer in the morning.

Early Sunday morning, I awoke and after rolling over several times, I managed to doze off again. I'll refer to that as mistake number one.

Don't ask me why but my mind decided to play tricks on me. I ended up trapped in a horrible nightmare; one that involved myself along with a group of others, trapped in a room and trying to disarm a bomb. We weren't having any luck with it, either.

I knew I was dreaming. I knew that what I was experiencing wasn't real and several times, I woke myself up in order to stare at the ceiling and dismiss that awful dream. But each and every time I went back to sleep, I was back among that group of people, a warning claxon screaming in my ears and a timer slowly ticking down to zero as I frantically tried snipping wires to a large and armed bomb, knowing that the effort was fruitless. No matter how many times I brought myself out of that dream, my mind simply restarted the whole process. Again, I awoke and again, I stared at the ceiling, shaking.

"CHECK YOUR TRADE!"

That voice in the back of my mind started shouting loudly. I shook my head, refusing to doze off again. I grabbed my DS, turned it on and hit the GTS. Not a moment later, I saw a Poke Ball drop from the sky.

I had finally gotten the Landorus. Now I just needed to find the Golett.

The Golett was still there. I traded immediately and when it landed in my party, I took a look at it.

'Twas a Dream Worlder all right, but the Trainer decided to reteach the little guy Astonish and let him forget his Elemental Punch. No big deal; I'll grab some shards on Black 2 and give him ThunderPunch when I trade him over, I think. No harm, no foul. But it was his nickname that caused me to scratch my head: どぐう. "Wonder what that means," I managed to mumble as I dozed off again, my game saved and my DS powered off.

Thanks to Prime, I found out that his name is Dogū. According to Wikipedia, it's a term for a humanoid figurine made of clay. Given that Golett is a golem made of clay, it fits the little guy perfectly. But in all honestly, I can't help but think it means "savior".

Puzzling over the meaning of that hirgana so early in the morning was enough to break the nightmare's hold over me; when I went back to sleep, I was greeted with a peaceful darkness. No more howling alarms, no shouting group of terrified people, no bomb, no locked down room, nothing. Just peace. Checking that trade, getting that Golett and finding myself fascinated over his name was enough to end the dream. In other words, I owe a few hours of good sleep to a small grouping of pixels.

You wouldn't believe how grateful I am for that, as silly as it seems.

Some Days I Wonder...

Within two weeks of each other, we have two separate shooting rampages; the second of which was in my home state. It's hard to comprehend such senseless acts.

Can someone explain to me just what is wrong with everything? Why would anyone feel the need to shoot another person? How did the world get this screwed up? I just don't get it.

Again, I can't complain about my life. Everything that's been bothering me has been minor irritations at worst. I am damned lucky.

Which is more than I can say for some others out there. And that makes me want to curl under my blankets and cry. But if I start crying, I won't stop anytime soon.

This Too Shall Pass

It's been a tiring week and a bit stressful, but I'm not going to complain about it. I have no right to complain about much of anything. It could be worse, a lot worse.

I didn't have to bury any of my family. I didn't have to lay before Prime and act as a living sheild. I didn't have to keep a hand at a friend's throat to control the bleeding from a gunshot wound while I frantically dialed 911 on my cell phone. I don't have to mourn the passing of a child or a husband. I am damned lucky and I know this.

Yes, work has been a pain in the backside, but it always is. That's not a surprise. But who really cares about that? I'm healthy, Prime is fine and my friends are safe. Life is good. The only things that are bothering me are petty annoyances that will be forgotten by tomorrow.

Trust me, it could be a lot worse.

YES!!

After several more refreshes, the items in question finally showed up on HTS. When everything popped up, I called Prime to let him know what was going on and filled my cart.I placed my order for the SDCC exclusives at 11:10 CDT. There were no hang ups, no time outs, nothing. It was just smooth and easy.

Now if only Matty Collector could be this simple. Yeah, right. Like that'll ever happen.

--Weasel, dreading the credit card bill but still happy.