So, when I had to go to the ER back the end of March, I incurred about $700+ dollars in medical bills. I have other bills from the same time period, and from a couple of months later, when I had to get an MRI, see a neurologist, etc.
My insurance company tried to dick their way out of paying the hospital and doctors, saying it was a possible pre-existing condition, even though I'd never been treated for it before. It took months of fighting with them, getting the doctors to send them paperwork, and being a general asshole on my part, to finally get them to pay what they were supposed to. Then I got laid off.
It took me until almost October to get my COBRA setup and my premiums back paid. I'm making $616 a month on unemployment, paid every 2 weeks. I don't have a lot of cheddar to work with right now, and if it wasn't for the government subsidies, I wouldn't even have insurance.
So, I started paying on the remaining $200 balance at the hospital last month. I was going to make another payment tomorrow. Then I got a bill for a debt collector for the account.
I called them about it. They're called Credit $olutions. Their tagline is Bringing Dignity to Collections. So, I already know they're completely full of shit.
I talk to a woman on their end, and I ask her what the hell is going on, because I'm making payments on this debt. "What did you say?" she says. So, I repeat myself, "I said, what the hell is going on with this, because I just paid them a partial payment last month, and now I'm getting letters from you guys, and it doesn't even show the amount I've paid." I'm informed that I must have more than one account, or they would have told them about the payments. I told her that I should only have one account that I'm aware of, and it would have to be a duplicate, because they're for the same amount, and I ask if she's sure I have another account, or if she's just speculating and making shit up. She admits that she has no idea whether I have another account or not. So I tell her thanks for all the help, and I go to town to talk to the billing department at the hospital.
The hospital informs me that they apparently referred me to collection before the payment was processed. And she asks me about my insurance. I tell her that it was in limbo hell for months, because my insurance company was being a bunch of douchebags, then I got laid off and had to deal with setting up COBRA, but they should have finally paid them what they owed them. She looks it up and says that they did pay them, and that the balance was now $180 with the payment I'd made. She also said that I had no other account, and the debt letter didn't have their account number on it. That the account number they had listed was not one of theirs, so it had to be their number. "Nay," said I, "this is their account number, I don't know what the hell this is." So she tells me that there's really nothing that she can do, now that they've forwarded the account. I was going to make another payment, but she can't take my payments anymore. She tells me I'll have to call the collection agency and tell them I'm making payments on it, because that's all I can afford right now. "Yeah," I said, "because collection agencies are known for their sympathetic ear." She tells me she'll forward the payment information for last month to them, so they show I've paid it.
I then return home, and I call the collection agency again. I relay all of this to the people who Bring Dignity to Collections. They tell me that they have a more structured method of payment than the hospital. They require a credit or debit card on file.
So, I tell her that I'm not about to put my debit card on file. I also inform her that I'd be happy to make a payment by check, money order or one time debit payment, but I'm not signing up for recurring payment. She informs me that I've got no other choice, that's the only way they take payments. I relate to her again that I only get $600 a month right now, and between my insurance, medical bills and everything else I have to pay, I may only have $8 in the bank at any time, and I only get paid twice a month, and I'm never sure what day the check's going to come, so I'm not doing it. I'm not going to have them overdraft my account, cost me fees, and have to pay even more money I can't afford right now.
She tells me she understands, because many, many clients are in the same boat I'm in, but that's the only way she can take a payment. But, my payment for November now shows in her computer.
I again tell her I'll be happy to make a payment by check, money order or one time debit payment. She again tells me that the only way they'll take a payment, is if I put my debit card on file, because they can't trust clients to make payments.
This is the point where I tell her she can either take the payment I'm willing to make, or she can get bent, and not get paid at all.
"Oh, it's Casey County Hospital that won't get paid," she says, "I'll get my money."
"No, no you won't."
"Yes, we will, we'll get paid anyway."
"Uh, no, you won't, because I'll close my damn bank account, and then I'll send you a check or money order, and you can choose to cash it or not, I don't really care, because it'll show my intent to pay, and if you don't want to take my money, you don't get jack shit. I'm not dumb enough to give you permission to charge my debit card whenever you feel like it. I've been burned before. How the fuck do I know you're not just going to jerk $180.00 out of my account?"
Now, she decides that she's going to be nice and diplomatic again. And inform me of another payment option.
"Well, if you're worried about that, then you can go to Wal-Mart. They sell those green dot Visas, and you can use that for a recurring payment. Just put your payment on it every month. We can't take more off of it than you put on it."
It's nice to know that the people who bring dignity to collections don't like to advertise this fact. And that I have to do something of this nature, because I have to worry that they might try to juice me for more than I want them to.
I tell her that I already have one, and I'm willing to do that, even though they charge me fees to put money on it, because otherwise, she's shit out of luck. But she won't be getting a payment today. She's going to have to wait until I go back to Wal-Mart, which may be a few days. I also tell her I'll call her back when I have a chance to do it and get back to her, which still irritates me, because they never should have gotten my account to begin with.
So, now, instead of just mailing in my payment or stopping by the hospital, I have to go to fucking Wal-Mart and pay a fee to put my $20 payment on the card every month. Because I know, as God as my witness, that if I don't, the ghouls will just suck all their money out of my bank account, and then I'll have to check Consumer Reports for which hammer has the least amount of murderous recoil. I don't think a No. 2 pencil would be sufficient for the job.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Monday Sux, And Amongst Other Things, They Terminated My Health Insurance Rant
Late October, they told us we were eligible for the TRA program, and extended benefits, schooling, etc. They also gave us paperwork for the Bridge Grant program, telling us that we would only have to pay a 20% COBRA subsidy, instead of the 35% temporary ARRA subsidy. We would need to fill out the Bridge Grant form and send our payments to the Kentucky State Dept. of the Treasury, until we got our HCTC paperwork, and started making payments to the feds.
I got the rep, Kim, at the unemployment office to help me figure out exactly what needed to be sent in, and I figured my payment amount. I have to pay full vision and dental, plus 20% of the medical, instead of 35% of the full amount, but it lasts until I'm off TRA, and it's about $40 cheaper per month. I mailed the paperwork and a check for my subsidy to them on the 12th of November. They stamped it for deposit on the 19th.
All jolly, right? Wrong.
I still haven't received an invoice for December, they didn't actually cash the check until the 2nd of December, and I finally got my HCTC paperwork on Saturday. According to the booklet, I can't get the 20% if I'm already getting the ARRA subsidy of 35%. So now, I'm all kinds of pissed off. I read through the other stuff today, and their eligibility questions are boned. Maybe intentionally, so people read that first page, don't go any further, and the government gets off the hook for any number of eligible people. I think they do this shit on purpose to avoid paying it. What the other booklet says, it that you can't be in both. You have to opt out of ARRA and into the HCTC subsidy. Well, no shit. That's a lot different than telling you on page one that you can't get it at all if you've been paying 35% to ARRA. To top it off, my insurance company is passing the buck on the payment processing to a new company in January, the new COBRA rates for January 1 are about $40 dollars higher, and I don't have a full COBRA rate invoice to send HCTC, because, even though I'm opting out of ARRA for HCTC, my invoices all show the 35% subsidy rate. I don't get a new invoice for the new rates, for the new company, until around December 24th, the day before Christmas, so who the hell knows when I'll actually see it. With holiday mail, it sometimes takes 2 weeks for first class around here. In the interim, I was just going to send another payment to the state, but have no invoice, so Kim gave me another calculation sheet to send it with it, so I'm not just posting a damn check by itself, and sending it into state government lala land.
So, now, I'm even more fucking confused. I try to call Kim, but the first 3 times I call the employment office, their system tells me that everyone's too goddamn busy to answer the phone, and I should call back later. 12 or more reps in the office, and nobody can answer the fucking phone. I call back, get a directory option, try to leave a message for Kim, but it doesn't give me voice mail, no, it bumps me back to the main queue, so they can inform me that they are too busy, and would you please call back later. I feel like a dog chasing some other mutt's tail, because he's too busy to chase his own ass in circles.
When I finally got a real person on the line, they told me Kim was out, but she should be back tomorrow. Which is a pain in the ass, because, of all the people that work there, Kim is the only one that knows anything about the insurance. If she's out to lunch, out sick, out for the day, out on vacation, nobody else in the office knows jack shit about how to help you. You're just fucked until she comes back.
So, I try calling the state, at the phone number Kim gave me, and I get nobody there, either. I leave her a voice mail, but nobody calls me back.
Because of the level of stupid bullshit this insurance crap entails, I refuse to use Easy Pay for my prescription refills and such. Wal-Mart, when you sign up for online refill, gives you this dandy option. Between the way Wally World fucks up on a regular basis, and the way the insurance gets handled, I'd rather beat on my nuts with a ballpeen hammer than give them carte blanche to charge my debit card, but that's what they want to do. They give me a rather chipper statement that, "Putting your credit or debit card on file with Easy Pay allows you to pay what your insurance doesn't cover. Just pick it up and go!" Yeah, right. Considering how many times they've tried to charge me full price, or charge me the co-pay price, even though their own price was cheaper, they've got a better chance of seeing me pass a mango through my urethra.
Their online refill was useful for something else, though, because it allowed me to see that I've had numerous prescriptions and remaining refills lapse, because rather than using the older ones on file first, they've just been filling the most recent ones. I've had any number of prescriptions and refills lapse because of this. I don't know if they're just fucking stupid, incompetent, or both.
So, I drive 20 miles to Campbellsville to pick up my meds and check on some stuff for my woodstove. I stop at the store, where I purchased the stove, back in 2004. I go in and ask about replacement brick, which I'm sure is pretty standard, and about getting a replacement brick plug for my ash drawer. He has no idea what I'm talking about. Tells me he's never heard of CFM, which makes about 3 different kinds of wood stoves. I told him I bought the thing from them about 5 years ago. Still not ringing any bells. I finally find one similar in his book, and he tells me they don't carry anything for it, but he gives me an 800 number for a company that might.
I leave, irritated, and I go to Tractor Supply, because they sold the same stove. They have the stove brick, which is standard (imagine that), and they had a whole pallet of it. Now there's only 3 broken ones remaining. He tells me that they're at the end of the season for ordering heaters and such, and he doesn't know if they'll get another pallet in. I look at him like he's fucking stupid, because winter hasn't even started yet.
About this time, another rep walks out, he asks him about it, and the other guy says, "I hope they send some more, I just ordered a whole pallet of it." Teamwork. Fucking excellent. But, they can only get the metal plugs, or the square brick. The stove they carry is similar, but has no ash drawer, so they can't order the plug. He suggests I cut down a brick and make one. Awesome. I love customer service.
So, I go to Wal-Mart. :( <---Foreshadowing
I go to get my meds, and I'm immediately glad I didn't use their buttful of sunshine Easy Pay option, because they try to charge me $175 plus change, for something that's supposed to be around $50. They would have overdrafted my account, and because I have the $100 overdraft coverage, it would have cleared. Then they'd have tacked on a fee, and I would be around $100 in the hole, the day before I get my next check. I then spend the next 20 minutes waiting on them to try and process my insurance. She finally tells me it's expired, and she's going to have to call them to get an explanation.
So, I wait. And she tells me that my insurance is expired, because they never got a payment. I tell her that's bullshit, because I damn sure paid the state of Kentucky, they cashed my check, and somebody got fucking paid. She helpfully tells me to keep my receipt, and I can get reimbursed once it's straightened out. I tell her, no, give me the ones on your plan, keep the others, and I'll just have to fucking do without, but thanks anyway, because I love driving 40 miles round trip for nothing.
I go to the car, and it doesn't start. Repeatedly.
I'm just about ready to go randomly directed, batshit, raving fucking crazy at this point, and I crank the car one more time. It coughs and starts. Bully for me. No padded walls for the short term, anyway.
I head home, grab the phone, and I call my insurance company.
So, here's the story. They terminated my coverage as of October 31, because they couldn't process my payment. They got the payment. They got the full payment. They just don't know what to do with it. The state of Kentucky didn't tell them whether it was for November or December. Never mind I paid it in November, they deposited it in November, and I never sent them a payment for November. They've got a full payment, but my insurance is in full on limbo, until they can reach someone in the Kentucky State Treasury Dept., and get them to say whether it's a November or December payment, because everyone elses is for December. They didn't tell them what to do with mine.
She also says I can't be in ARRA and HCTC. I say that I'm fully aware of this, and I sent in my Bridge Grant form for the state in mid November, along with 20 percent of the full COBRA amount, not 20% of the 35%, and that was supposed to opt me out of ARRA. I ask her how much of a payment she got from Kentucky. She says they got the full COBRA payment. I then ask her what the fucking problem is, and she says that she can't reinstate my insurance until she knows whether to post it for November or December. Never mind that there wouldn't even be a goddamn December payment due, if November wasn't paid, because my insurance would be terminated in October. OH WAIT! IT FUCKING WAS!
So, now, I'm waiting on her to get in touch with the state. They've already tried calling them multiple times, since she got the payment, because she didn't know how to process it. She escalated it to her supervisor, and they called again today. The lady they need to talk to isn't in the office, so I guess we both get to try again tomorrow. In the meantime, I've got a payment I made that's hanging out in purgatory, I'm out the cash, and until this is resolved, I have no medical coverage.
If they decide to have her post it for December, even though I paid it in November, then I have to send them a payment to the old address, for the 35%, to make up the back payment for November, which I shouldn't have to make in the first damn place. I can't send another payment in for December, because I don't know if December is going to be covered or not, and if it is, and I send in the payment, it'll be too little to cover the back due amount for November, at the 35% rate. I don't know who to pay, how much to pay or when it's due, and it's all supposed to change in January anyway.
I'm about ready to pull my fucking hair out. I think they do this shit on purpose, just so people give up, say who gives a shit, and they wind up screwed or broke, because nobody gives a rat's ass.
I got the rep, Kim, at the unemployment office to help me figure out exactly what needed to be sent in, and I figured my payment amount. I have to pay full vision and dental, plus 20% of the medical, instead of 35% of the full amount, but it lasts until I'm off TRA, and it's about $40 cheaper per month. I mailed the paperwork and a check for my subsidy to them on the 12th of November. They stamped it for deposit on the 19th.
All jolly, right? Wrong.
I still haven't received an invoice for December, they didn't actually cash the check until the 2nd of December, and I finally got my HCTC paperwork on Saturday. According to the booklet, I can't get the 20% if I'm already getting the ARRA subsidy of 35%. So now, I'm all kinds of pissed off. I read through the other stuff today, and their eligibility questions are boned. Maybe intentionally, so people read that first page, don't go any further, and the government gets off the hook for any number of eligible people. I think they do this shit on purpose to avoid paying it. What the other booklet says, it that you can't be in both. You have to opt out of ARRA and into the HCTC subsidy. Well, no shit. That's a lot different than telling you on page one that you can't get it at all if you've been paying 35% to ARRA. To top it off, my insurance company is passing the buck on the payment processing to a new company in January, the new COBRA rates for January 1 are about $40 dollars higher, and I don't have a full COBRA rate invoice to send HCTC, because, even though I'm opting out of ARRA for HCTC, my invoices all show the 35% subsidy rate. I don't get a new invoice for the new rates, for the new company, until around December 24th, the day before Christmas, so who the hell knows when I'll actually see it. With holiday mail, it sometimes takes 2 weeks for first class around here. In the interim, I was just going to send another payment to the state, but have no invoice, so Kim gave me another calculation sheet to send it with it, so I'm not just posting a damn check by itself, and sending it into state government lala land.
So, now, I'm even more fucking confused. I try to call Kim, but the first 3 times I call the employment office, their system tells me that everyone's too goddamn busy to answer the phone, and I should call back later. 12 or more reps in the office, and nobody can answer the fucking phone. I call back, get a directory option, try to leave a message for Kim, but it doesn't give me voice mail, no, it bumps me back to the main queue, so they can inform me that they are too busy, and would you please call back later. I feel like a dog chasing some other mutt's tail, because he's too busy to chase his own ass in circles.
When I finally got a real person on the line, they told me Kim was out, but she should be back tomorrow. Which is a pain in the ass, because, of all the people that work there, Kim is the only one that knows anything about the insurance. If she's out to lunch, out sick, out for the day, out on vacation, nobody else in the office knows jack shit about how to help you. You're just fucked until she comes back.
So, I try calling the state, at the phone number Kim gave me, and I get nobody there, either. I leave her a voice mail, but nobody calls me back.
Because of the level of stupid bullshit this insurance crap entails, I refuse to use Easy Pay for my prescription refills and such. Wal-Mart, when you sign up for online refill, gives you this dandy option. Between the way Wally World fucks up on a regular basis, and the way the insurance gets handled, I'd rather beat on my nuts with a ballpeen hammer than give them carte blanche to charge my debit card, but that's what they want to do. They give me a rather chipper statement that, "Putting your credit or debit card on file with Easy Pay allows you to pay what your insurance doesn't cover. Just pick it up and go!" Yeah, right. Considering how many times they've tried to charge me full price, or charge me the co-pay price, even though their own price was cheaper, they've got a better chance of seeing me pass a mango through my urethra.
Their online refill was useful for something else, though, because it allowed me to see that I've had numerous prescriptions and remaining refills lapse, because rather than using the older ones on file first, they've just been filling the most recent ones. I've had any number of prescriptions and refills lapse because of this. I don't know if they're just fucking stupid, incompetent, or both.
So, I drive 20 miles to Campbellsville to pick up my meds and check on some stuff for my woodstove. I stop at the store, where I purchased the stove, back in 2004. I go in and ask about replacement brick, which I'm sure is pretty standard, and about getting a replacement brick plug for my ash drawer. He has no idea what I'm talking about. Tells me he's never heard of CFM, which makes about 3 different kinds of wood stoves. I told him I bought the thing from them about 5 years ago. Still not ringing any bells. I finally find one similar in his book, and he tells me they don't carry anything for it, but he gives me an 800 number for a company that might.
I leave, irritated, and I go to Tractor Supply, because they sold the same stove. They have the stove brick, which is standard (imagine that), and they had a whole pallet of it. Now there's only 3 broken ones remaining. He tells me that they're at the end of the season for ordering heaters and such, and he doesn't know if they'll get another pallet in. I look at him like he's fucking stupid, because winter hasn't even started yet.
About this time, another rep walks out, he asks him about it, and the other guy says, "I hope they send some more, I just ordered a whole pallet of it." Teamwork. Fucking excellent. But, they can only get the metal plugs, or the square brick. The stove they carry is similar, but has no ash drawer, so they can't order the plug. He suggests I cut down a brick and make one. Awesome. I love customer service.
So, I go to Wal-Mart. :( <---Foreshadowing
I go to get my meds, and I'm immediately glad I didn't use their buttful of sunshine Easy Pay option, because they try to charge me $175 plus change, for something that's supposed to be around $50. They would have overdrafted my account, and because I have the $100 overdraft coverage, it would have cleared. Then they'd have tacked on a fee, and I would be around $100 in the hole, the day before I get my next check. I then spend the next 20 minutes waiting on them to try and process my insurance. She finally tells me it's expired, and she's going to have to call them to get an explanation.
So, I wait. And she tells me that my insurance is expired, because they never got a payment. I tell her that's bullshit, because I damn sure paid the state of Kentucky, they cashed my check, and somebody got fucking paid. She helpfully tells me to keep my receipt, and I can get reimbursed once it's straightened out. I tell her, no, give me the ones on your plan, keep the others, and I'll just have to fucking do without, but thanks anyway, because I love driving 40 miles round trip for nothing.
I go to the car, and it doesn't start. Repeatedly.
I'm just about ready to go randomly directed, batshit, raving fucking crazy at this point, and I crank the car one more time. It coughs and starts. Bully for me. No padded walls for the short term, anyway.
I head home, grab the phone, and I call my insurance company.
So, here's the story. They terminated my coverage as of October 31, because they couldn't process my payment. They got the payment. They got the full payment. They just don't know what to do with it. The state of Kentucky didn't tell them whether it was for November or December. Never mind I paid it in November, they deposited it in November, and I never sent them a payment for November. They've got a full payment, but my insurance is in full on limbo, until they can reach someone in the Kentucky State Treasury Dept., and get them to say whether it's a November or December payment, because everyone elses is for December. They didn't tell them what to do with mine.
She also says I can't be in ARRA and HCTC. I say that I'm fully aware of this, and I sent in my Bridge Grant form for the state in mid November, along with 20 percent of the full COBRA amount, not 20% of the 35%, and that was supposed to opt me out of ARRA. I ask her how much of a payment she got from Kentucky. She says they got the full COBRA payment. I then ask her what the fucking problem is, and she says that she can't reinstate my insurance until she knows whether to post it for November or December. Never mind that there wouldn't even be a goddamn December payment due, if November wasn't paid, because my insurance would be terminated in October. OH WAIT! IT FUCKING WAS!
So, now, I'm waiting on her to get in touch with the state. They've already tried calling them multiple times, since she got the payment, because she didn't know how to process it. She escalated it to her supervisor, and they called again today. The lady they need to talk to isn't in the office, so I guess we both get to try again tomorrow. In the meantime, I've got a payment I made that's hanging out in purgatory, I'm out the cash, and until this is resolved, I have no medical coverage.
If they decide to have her post it for December, even though I paid it in November, then I have to send them a payment to the old address, for the 35%, to make up the back payment for November, which I shouldn't have to make in the first damn place. I can't send another payment in for December, because I don't know if December is going to be covered or not, and if it is, and I send in the payment, it'll be too little to cover the back due amount for November, at the 35% rate. I don't know who to pay, how much to pay or when it's due, and it's all supposed to change in January anyway.
I'm about ready to pull my fucking hair out. I think they do this shit on purpose, just so people give up, say who gives a shit, and they wind up screwed or broke, because nobody gives a rat's ass.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
I Hate this Time of Year
I do. I fucking hate it. I like snow, but it never snows. It just rains, and it's cold, and it freezes at night, and driving in this state means taking your life in your hands.
It's also December, and every idiot yahoo and yokel that normally only pokes his/her head out on random occasions, is out trying to buy shit they don't need and can't afford, so that even going to the damn dollar store or Wal-Mart takes ironclad impulse control. Anything less, and I start stabbing people in the sternum with a Bic pen, liberated from beside the checkout counter and the Ped-Eggs. Or start shooting my way to the front of the line with a sporting goods section, Remington 12 gauge pump full of spearmint tic-tacs and hatred.
I had to go to Wal-Mart, in the pouring rain, because I had to pick up a script, and I had to return the $50 PoS heater that I bought on the night of Dinner and a Movie hell. I was almost halfway there, when I entered into a steep and deep curve, that is banked bassackwards, because the fucking road engineers don't understand that the wrong angle is bad. Bad, because it tries to launch you into a field or waiting ravine. I started to hydroplane at 35, and I was sliding and fishtailing, heading right into the path of an oncoming car. I thought, "Well, this is going to suck hard, real quick." But at the last possible second, I caught traction and managed to not sideswipe the guy. Kudos to me.
I got into town, and the jackass 2 cars ahead of me decided to stop short, put on his blinker and make a turn at the bottom of a hill, and even though my brakes were working, I just kept sliding down the hill. After the antilocks rattled for a bit, and I slid sideways, I narrowly avoided rear ending the guy in front of me. A grenade would have come in handy. I had already watched a silly bitch drive the wrong way out a one-way drive earlier, and I was rapidly losing my patience with the motoring public. Nearly having a head on didn't help.
I get to Wal-Mart, and the heater isn't in their system. They don't sell it. He asks me if I bought it at that Wal-Mart, and I tell him I bought it while I was out of town. They finally give me a general merchandise sticker, and let me go to customer service. Which takes no time, and they give me my money back. Wow. That was easy. I go to the prescription counter.
There is a line, people who have obviously been waiting quite a while, 1 register that nobody is operating, half a dozen people behind the counter ignoring this fact, and 1 woman holding up the whole department, waiting to check out a large jar of Fleet Glycerin Suppositories, and yapping on the phone to someone about how she should continue this process. I am just about ready to tell her that she wouldn't need the suppositories, if she'd only pull the stick out of her rather sizable ass, and ask someone behind the counter why none of them seem to know how to run the other fucking register, when the lady finally gets off the phone, and one of the other employees finally decides she might check someone out. Ass pill lady turns to leave, and I literally flinch. It looked like Tammy Faye Bakker had been fired from a cannon, head first into a pekingese dog. And a large black beauty mark drawn on to add emphasis. Ugh, and pass the Pepto Bismol. I finally got checked out, and I went to get my new heater.
I took my new purchase to the front, and only having one item, attempted to go to the Express Checkout. There's 4 of them, 2 of them occupied by cashiers, but their lights are out. There are no express lanes open. So I get in the next available lane, which has 2 people ahead of me. One guy who has 2 bags of chips, and another, who only has a pack of AA batteries. Sweet! I lucked out, and I don't have to wait in a long ass checkout line full of Christmas shoppers! Wrong.
The cashier is far more interested in bullshitting with her counterpart in the next lane, and regailing her with stories of the work day. It took her forever to scan 2 bags of chips, and she didn't even look at them, or the register, as she did it. When she finished ringing him up, she took the next guy's batteries, started to scan them, saw someone she knew leaving the checkout area, and she promptly forgets battery guy, lays down the batteries, and starts bullshitting with her friend.
She starts asking about her daughter, who is with her, and then starts talking to the daughter. At this point, she actually WALKS THE FUCK AWAY FROM REGISTER AND LANE TO TALK TO THEM. Leaving battery guy and myself to dangle in the wind and assume a holding pattern. She finishes her conversation, comes back, and finally checks out the poor bastard's batteries. I do not speak, except to say thank you, because I know if I do, I'm going to unload on her stupid ass, and then management is going to get involved. Having once repeatedly told a bank president to fuck off, complete with elaborate hand gestures and a diatribe on America and the right to free speech, I know how ugly these situations can get, and I simply left.
After nearly being run over 2 more times on the way out of town, I decide I can't stomach stopping at Kroger, and I go home.
I then take up smoking again, at least temporarily.
Did I mention that I hate this time of year?
It's also December, and every idiot yahoo and yokel that normally only pokes his/her head out on random occasions, is out trying to buy shit they don't need and can't afford, so that even going to the damn dollar store or Wal-Mart takes ironclad impulse control. Anything less, and I start stabbing people in the sternum with a Bic pen, liberated from beside the checkout counter and the Ped-Eggs. Or start shooting my way to the front of the line with a sporting goods section, Remington 12 gauge pump full of spearmint tic-tacs and hatred.
I had to go to Wal-Mart, in the pouring rain, because I had to pick up a script, and I had to return the $50 PoS heater that I bought on the night of Dinner and a Movie hell. I was almost halfway there, when I entered into a steep and deep curve, that is banked bassackwards, because the fucking road engineers don't understand that the wrong angle is bad. Bad, because it tries to launch you into a field or waiting ravine. I started to hydroplane at 35, and I was sliding and fishtailing, heading right into the path of an oncoming car. I thought, "Well, this is going to suck hard, real quick." But at the last possible second, I caught traction and managed to not sideswipe the guy. Kudos to me.
I got into town, and the jackass 2 cars ahead of me decided to stop short, put on his blinker and make a turn at the bottom of a hill, and even though my brakes were working, I just kept sliding down the hill. After the antilocks rattled for a bit, and I slid sideways, I narrowly avoided rear ending the guy in front of me. A grenade would have come in handy. I had already watched a silly bitch drive the wrong way out a one-way drive earlier, and I was rapidly losing my patience with the motoring public. Nearly having a head on didn't help.
I get to Wal-Mart, and the heater isn't in their system. They don't sell it. He asks me if I bought it at that Wal-Mart, and I tell him I bought it while I was out of town. They finally give me a general merchandise sticker, and let me go to customer service. Which takes no time, and they give me my money back. Wow. That was easy. I go to the prescription counter.
There is a line, people who have obviously been waiting quite a while, 1 register that nobody is operating, half a dozen people behind the counter ignoring this fact, and 1 woman holding up the whole department, waiting to check out a large jar of Fleet Glycerin Suppositories, and yapping on the phone to someone about how she should continue this process. I am just about ready to tell her that she wouldn't need the suppositories, if she'd only pull the stick out of her rather sizable ass, and ask someone behind the counter why none of them seem to know how to run the other fucking register, when the lady finally gets off the phone, and one of the other employees finally decides she might check someone out. Ass pill lady turns to leave, and I literally flinch. It looked like Tammy Faye Bakker had been fired from a cannon, head first into a pekingese dog. And a large black beauty mark drawn on to add emphasis. Ugh, and pass the Pepto Bismol. I finally got checked out, and I went to get my new heater.
I took my new purchase to the front, and only having one item, attempted to go to the Express Checkout. There's 4 of them, 2 of them occupied by cashiers, but their lights are out. There are no express lanes open. So I get in the next available lane, which has 2 people ahead of me. One guy who has 2 bags of chips, and another, who only has a pack of AA batteries. Sweet! I lucked out, and I don't have to wait in a long ass checkout line full of Christmas shoppers! Wrong.
The cashier is far more interested in bullshitting with her counterpart in the next lane, and regailing her with stories of the work day. It took her forever to scan 2 bags of chips, and she didn't even look at them, or the register, as she did it. When she finished ringing him up, she took the next guy's batteries, started to scan them, saw someone she knew leaving the checkout area, and she promptly forgets battery guy, lays down the batteries, and starts bullshitting with her friend.
She starts asking about her daughter, who is with her, and then starts talking to the daughter. At this point, she actually WALKS THE FUCK AWAY FROM REGISTER AND LANE TO TALK TO THEM. Leaving battery guy and myself to dangle in the wind and assume a holding pattern. She finishes her conversation, comes back, and finally checks out the poor bastard's batteries. I do not speak, except to say thank you, because I know if I do, I'm going to unload on her stupid ass, and then management is going to get involved. Having once repeatedly told a bank president to fuck off, complete with elaborate hand gestures and a diatribe on America and the right to free speech, I know how ugly these situations can get, and I simply left.
After nearly being run over 2 more times on the way out of town, I decide I can't stomach stopping at Kroger, and I go home.
I then take up smoking again, at least temporarily.
Did I mention that I hate this time of year?
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Dinner and a Movie
Originally posted to my Facebook notes. It was a crappy day.
And thus:
Kelly's been working 60 hours, and she had to work Thanksgiving, so we had our dinner on Friday. We decided we'd go out tonight, do some shopping, grab something to eat, and maybe catch a movie. Sounds simple enough, right? Yeah.
My 4Runner's battery died. I've been driving the Camry, so it wasn't a big deal, but I figured I'd jump it and charge it back up while I was checking the antifreeze in the car. I hooked up the cables, and my first clue that something wasn't right, was the way the sparks flew everywhere, and the battery caught fire. At that point, I suspected something was amiss.
I checked the battery on the Camry, which had been replaced recently. Neither vehicle has color coded posts or cables, they're both black. But the Camry has covers showing which one's positive, so you don't have to check the battery case. Except the positive cover was put back on the negative post, and the cables were actually hooked up positive to negative. Thus the fire and sparks. This pissed me off.
So now, I'm left with my back glass down on the 4Runner, the battery's fried and won't take a charge, and the electrical system doesn't work when I remove the battery and hook it up either. I finally get the bolt loose on the battery holder, remove the fried battery, and remove and move the battery from the Camry, to see if I can get it to work, or at least roll my window up.
Nothing. Well, nearly nothing. Nothing useful, anyway, but the horn continuously blows at full volume now, even though nothing else works. So, I check all the fuses. All good. Which means I've either got a fried relay, or I've got a fried computer. Yeah, me.
I get a couple of garbage bags, some packing tape, and I tape up the back glass. Mostly, anyway. I ran out of tape before I got finished. I then called my mechanic, and I asked if he knew anybody that had a flatbed and could tow it cheap. Because, without power, I can't even put it in neutral and push it into the garage. He gives me a phone number.
The tow truck driver shows up and loads it. He tells me it could be the computer, but hopefully the relay went first. I ask him to drop it somewhere sheltered and out of the weather, because it's going to have to sit until Monday. He says he'll see what he can do, if Chuck's home when he gets there. I call Chuck and make sure he's home, and I ask him to do the same thing, so it doesn't get rained in. He says it's not a problem.
I pay the $60.00, tell the wrecker guy thank you, and I call Chuck again to tell him it's on the way. He tells me again that it may be the computer, but hopefully, it's just a relay. He also tells me that, if it's the computer, if he can find one used, it'll still be $75-100.00. So, because of this whole backward ass battery cover thing, I'm looking at $60 for towing, maybe $75-100.00 on the parts, if I can find a used one that works, a new battery and labor. I am now highly pissed, and I"m running late.
We debated going to Danville, which is 36 miles north, or Campbellsville, which is 20 miles west of here. Finally, we decided to go to Russell Springs, which is 26 miles southeast of here, because I noticed that the local theater there is putting on a production of A Christmas Carol, and I thought it'd be something Kelly would like.
The theater is an old style movie theater, and it was bought out by a local arts group and restored. They now put on live seasonal productions. The tickets are sold at the mom and pop drug store across the street. The show is next weekend, so we thought we'd swing by, pick up the tickets, and then make the 27 mile trip to Somerset, which is the closet large town from there, and do the whole movie, eat and shopping thing there.
I tried calling them while I was waiting on the tow guy, so I could find out what time they close, but the phone was busy. When we got there, they had closed at 3pm. So now, I've driven 26 miles for absolutely no reason, and I was already pissed off to begin with. We decide to go on to Somerset anyway, instead of just going home, despite my better judgment.
As I start the 27 mile journey to Somerset, the car starts making funky noises. It's the power steering. I find a Dollar General, go in and buy some power steering fluid, which is placed directly behind a loaded stock cart and a stack of boxes I have to kick out of the way, and I go out to check the fluid. It's out. Nothing in the reserve. So now, I have a leak in my power steering system. Wonderful. At this point, I'm a barrel of fucking laughs. I fill the power steering, and I head out to Somerset. I'm a glutton for punishment.
We get to Somerset, and I decide to try the restaurant they opened in the mall. We didn't want a fast food restaurant, we wanted to sit down in a decent restaurant and have a steak or real entree, with real service. So we go to eat at the Tumbleweed Southwest Mesquite Grill.
I decided on the Bison Burger, and Kelly decided she'll have the same, because she's never had buffalo. It's a decent size burger, but nowhere near big enough for the $9.95 price. It's a burger with fries. Anyway, they have a bacon cheddar burger too, and I asked if I could get the Bison with cheddar and bacon, and the waitress says that's fine, she can do that. We order them well done. Then we eat our queso (sucked) and salsa. And we wait.
The food finally arrives, and I've got a burger with no cheese, no bacon. Kelly has a burger with no cheese, no bacon. But our fries are covered with them. We wait for the waitress to come back, and we point out that the order's all wrong. She disappears, and she later returns with the manager. The manager apologizes, assures us that our waitress makes mistakes all the time, that they suspect she's really a blonde, not a brunette (Kelly's blonde, and so's the manager, so how this is reassuring, I have no fucking idea), and that this is still the biggest mistake she's made all day, even though earlier, she had to ask what hushpuppies were made of. The waitress assures us that this is true, and I tell her that they're made of dog tails.
So, after this song and dance, she asks what she can do. Can they bring us cheese and bacon? The cheese won't be melted, but they can bring us some cheese. I told her that still didn't solve the problem of having cheese and bacon all over my fries, but at this point, I'd eat them anyway. Kelly doesn't want cheese and bacon on hers, so they assure us that they'll give us new fries, apologize again, and the manager tells us that, if we want dessert, she'll have it taken care of. Whoopee.
They bring us a slice of cold cheese and 2 strips of bacon apiece, and we wait for the fries. In the meantime, Kelly had decided she doesn't want any more of her burger, and she pushes half of it aside. After all this, I decide I'll eat the rest of it myself. But I can't, because it's fucking burnt. It tastes like charcoal. I asked her how she even managed to eat half of it.
Our waitress has seemingly disappeared, and we're out of sweet tea. When she finally does come back, we ask her to bring us more sweet tea, and she returns a bit later with 2 more glasses, then disappears again. She brings us unsweetened tea. So, I wait. And I wait. And when she finally comes back, presumably to ask us about our free dessert, I tell her she brought me unsweetened tea. 1 sweet and 1 unsweet? No, I say, they're both wrong. So she disappears again, but not before leaving me the check, after having already rung us up, never even asking if we wanted dessert. When she returns, it's with 1 glass of sweet tea, instead of 2. Then we had to wait on her to come back and get the credit card and cash us out. I finished another glass of tea in the time it took her to find her way back. And we got comped for zippo. Nothing. Nada. Thirty plus dollars for 2 burger plates, a small order of queso, and 2 teas. But the manager thanked us for understanding, and she asked us to come again. Fat fucking chance.
We now stroll into the mall and go to get tickets for the movie at the Cinema 8. There's not much playing, so we decide to see The Men Who Stare at Goats. We have a half hour until the movie, but I've really got to piss, so we decide to go ahead and go in. But they won't let us. They're not seating yet, and they won't even let anyone into the lobby and concession area. We have to stand in line. They only have 1 line for all the movies. Even though they all start at different times. Tell me how much goddamn sense that makes? And there's a 50 foot fucking line for New Moon. I'm about ready to stab someone in the neck with a #2 pencil.
So we browse. Kelly wants to buy an ornament from the custom Christmas shop. The lady asks what we want on it, and I tell her I want it to say Screw Kwanzaa or Hanukkah Sucks. She asks if we want something about Happy Holidays or Merry Christmas. Kelly tells her to put Merry Christmas on it, none of that Happy Holidays crap. I tell her I still vote for Merry Festivus, or Hanukkah Sucks. I mean, it doesn't really, I have absolutely nothing against Hanukkah, I just thought the whole exercise was silly. I even did my best Oy, Vey! The counter girl gave me weird looks, but I'm used to that.
While she was making Kelly's ornament, I found a flying pig ornament, and I had to get it. I wanted it to say Merry Porkmas. And for $10.95 plus tax, it damn well should. But it didn't. After I got it back, and we left, I realized it said Merry Porkman. Which, as I'm sure you realize, is chock full of un-Christmas like sexual innuendo. I said nothing, because at this point, I've decided it's par for the course, and I should have just stayed home.
We get back in the movie line, and begin our 20 minute wait to get in, surrounded by Twilight groupies. I amuse myself by thoroughly and profanely dissing on Twilight, the pussification of vampires, and proclaiming that it should be against the law for women to write vampire fiction. I announce that vampires don't glisten, and they should damn well properly fucking explode when sunlight hits them, because that's how it's done. We finally get into the theater.
I walk into the movie theater, and I stop, look around, and I'm baffled that I can't find the rest of it.
This cinema has 3 rows of 10 seats, and about 18 more scattered behind, in a room the size of my living room. I shit you not, sports fans, and I don't exaggerate. A 15 ft. screen, 3 full rows of 10 seats, and you have to break your neck to see the screen. It's the smallest theater I have ever seen, and I felt like I was in a broom closet.
I opined loudly about how fucking stupid it was, what a rip-off it was, and how it would have been easier to sit at home and watch my flatscreen from 6 inches away. Everyone who walked in had the same "WTF" look on their faces. One guy even turned around, walked out, and he went into another movie. It was pathetic. I wanted to leave, but we'd already bought our tickets, our drinks, and our popcorn. Kelly wouldn't go, so we waited. And then the movie didn't start on time. It started 10 minutes late, and then they showed 4 trailers before they ever started it. And the screen had big ass scars, right in the center of the screen. Like it had been sliced or ripped and taped back together. You could fry an egg on my head.
Kelly thinks it's funny, but hey, at least I got my Christmas ornament. Then I tell her that she engraved it wrong. Now, she's irritated, wants to go back, and have her redo it.
The movie isn't very good. A few chuckles, but all in all, not very good. Even with Ewan McGregor, Kevin Spacey, Jeff Bridges and George Clooney. Big waste of 14 bucks and concessions. It did end about 10 minutes before closing, though, so Kelly insisted on taking the ornament back. She refuses to have Merry Porkman on her tree.
So, we take it back, and she shows her what it says. All the ladies agree that it's inappropriate for a Christmas tree. I ask what the hell's the difference, because Porkman is funnier than Porkmas, and neither one makes any damn sense anyway. They give us a new ornament, and she corrects the engraving. She also mentions some of the half Hanukkah, half Christmas ornaments she has at home.
So, now that I know she's half Jewish, I understand the odd look earlier. I have inadvertently mocked this woman's holiday. Which is just icing on the cake. Although, I have to wonder about the whole Porkman thing. Maybe it was a Freudian slip, and she had weenie on the brain. I don't know.
I though about sitting on Santa's lap and having my picture made for my Facebook profile, but I figured, the way my day was going, I'd wind up in jail.
Finis.
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Update:
And what of the follow-up? What happened, you ask?
Well, after spending $100 to get it cranking again, putting a used battery on it, and putting in new plugs, it turns out it's missing on 2 cylinders. One for no apparent reason, and another, because it has almost no compression. Probably a burnt valve.
Which means, even if I could find a used motor and swap them straight across, it's going to cost me anywhere from $400-700 plus labor to fix it. For an engine that supposedly less than 3 years old, and only had 64k miles on it when I bought it.
So, the moral is, the car dealership is full of lying, cheating assholes. Which one wouldn't expect from a major new/used dealership, but there you go. Total shit weasels. I hope they get humped in the butt by rabid and promiscuous badgers. Badgers with a penchant for STD riddled prostitutes and beating their sex partners, because of seriously repressed issues connected to priest molestation.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go put a Badgers Wanted ad on Craig's List.
And thus:
Kelly's been working 60 hours, and she had to work Thanksgiving, so we had our dinner on Friday. We decided we'd go out tonight, do some shopping, grab something to eat, and maybe catch a movie. Sounds simple enough, right? Yeah.
My 4Runner's battery died. I've been driving the Camry, so it wasn't a big deal, but I figured I'd jump it and charge it back up while I was checking the antifreeze in the car. I hooked up the cables, and my first clue that something wasn't right, was the way the sparks flew everywhere, and the battery caught fire. At that point, I suspected something was amiss.
I checked the battery on the Camry, which had been replaced recently. Neither vehicle has color coded posts or cables, they're both black. But the Camry has covers showing which one's positive, so you don't have to check the battery case. Except the positive cover was put back on the negative post, and the cables were actually hooked up positive to negative. Thus the fire and sparks. This pissed me off.
So now, I'm left with my back glass down on the 4Runner, the battery's fried and won't take a charge, and the electrical system doesn't work when I remove the battery and hook it up either. I finally get the bolt loose on the battery holder, remove the fried battery, and remove and move the battery from the Camry, to see if I can get it to work, or at least roll my window up.
Nothing. Well, nearly nothing. Nothing useful, anyway, but the horn continuously blows at full volume now, even though nothing else works. So, I check all the fuses. All good. Which means I've either got a fried relay, or I've got a fried computer. Yeah, me.
I get a couple of garbage bags, some packing tape, and I tape up the back glass. Mostly, anyway. I ran out of tape before I got finished. I then called my mechanic, and I asked if he knew anybody that had a flatbed and could tow it cheap. Because, without power, I can't even put it in neutral and push it into the garage. He gives me a phone number.
The tow truck driver shows up and loads it. He tells me it could be the computer, but hopefully the relay went first. I ask him to drop it somewhere sheltered and out of the weather, because it's going to have to sit until Monday. He says he'll see what he can do, if Chuck's home when he gets there. I call Chuck and make sure he's home, and I ask him to do the same thing, so it doesn't get rained in. He says it's not a problem.
I pay the $60.00, tell the wrecker guy thank you, and I call Chuck again to tell him it's on the way. He tells me again that it may be the computer, but hopefully, it's just a relay. He also tells me that, if it's the computer, if he can find one used, it'll still be $75-100.00. So, because of this whole backward ass battery cover thing, I'm looking at $60 for towing, maybe $75-100.00 on the parts, if I can find a used one that works, a new battery and labor. I am now highly pissed, and I"m running late.
We debated going to Danville, which is 36 miles north, or Campbellsville, which is 20 miles west of here. Finally, we decided to go to Russell Springs, which is 26 miles southeast of here, because I noticed that the local theater there is putting on a production of A Christmas Carol, and I thought it'd be something Kelly would like.
The theater is an old style movie theater, and it was bought out by a local arts group and restored. They now put on live seasonal productions. The tickets are sold at the mom and pop drug store across the street. The show is next weekend, so we thought we'd swing by, pick up the tickets, and then make the 27 mile trip to Somerset, which is the closet large town from there, and do the whole movie, eat and shopping thing there.
I tried calling them while I was waiting on the tow guy, so I could find out what time they close, but the phone was busy. When we got there, they had closed at 3pm. So now, I've driven 26 miles for absolutely no reason, and I was already pissed off to begin with. We decide to go on to Somerset anyway, instead of just going home, despite my better judgment.
As I start the 27 mile journey to Somerset, the car starts making funky noises. It's the power steering. I find a Dollar General, go in and buy some power steering fluid, which is placed directly behind a loaded stock cart and a stack of boxes I have to kick out of the way, and I go out to check the fluid. It's out. Nothing in the reserve. So now, I have a leak in my power steering system. Wonderful. At this point, I'm a barrel of fucking laughs. I fill the power steering, and I head out to Somerset. I'm a glutton for punishment.
We get to Somerset, and I decide to try the restaurant they opened in the mall. We didn't want a fast food restaurant, we wanted to sit down in a decent restaurant and have a steak or real entree, with real service. So we go to eat at the Tumbleweed Southwest Mesquite Grill.
I decided on the Bison Burger, and Kelly decided she'll have the same, because she's never had buffalo. It's a decent size burger, but nowhere near big enough for the $9.95 price. It's a burger with fries. Anyway, they have a bacon cheddar burger too, and I asked if I could get the Bison with cheddar and bacon, and the waitress says that's fine, she can do that. We order them well done. Then we eat our queso (sucked) and salsa. And we wait.
The food finally arrives, and I've got a burger with no cheese, no bacon. Kelly has a burger with no cheese, no bacon. But our fries are covered with them. We wait for the waitress to come back, and we point out that the order's all wrong. She disappears, and she later returns with the manager. The manager apologizes, assures us that our waitress makes mistakes all the time, that they suspect she's really a blonde, not a brunette (Kelly's blonde, and so's the manager, so how this is reassuring, I have no fucking idea), and that this is still the biggest mistake she's made all day, even though earlier, she had to ask what hushpuppies were made of. The waitress assures us that this is true, and I tell her that they're made of dog tails.
So, after this song and dance, she asks what she can do. Can they bring us cheese and bacon? The cheese won't be melted, but they can bring us some cheese. I told her that still didn't solve the problem of having cheese and bacon all over my fries, but at this point, I'd eat them anyway. Kelly doesn't want cheese and bacon on hers, so they assure us that they'll give us new fries, apologize again, and the manager tells us that, if we want dessert, she'll have it taken care of. Whoopee.
They bring us a slice of cold cheese and 2 strips of bacon apiece, and we wait for the fries. In the meantime, Kelly had decided she doesn't want any more of her burger, and she pushes half of it aside. After all this, I decide I'll eat the rest of it myself. But I can't, because it's fucking burnt. It tastes like charcoal. I asked her how she even managed to eat half of it.
Our waitress has seemingly disappeared, and we're out of sweet tea. When she finally does come back, we ask her to bring us more sweet tea, and she returns a bit later with 2 more glasses, then disappears again. She brings us unsweetened tea. So, I wait. And I wait. And when she finally comes back, presumably to ask us about our free dessert, I tell her she brought me unsweetened tea. 1 sweet and 1 unsweet? No, I say, they're both wrong. So she disappears again, but not before leaving me the check, after having already rung us up, never even asking if we wanted dessert. When she returns, it's with 1 glass of sweet tea, instead of 2. Then we had to wait on her to come back and get the credit card and cash us out. I finished another glass of tea in the time it took her to find her way back. And we got comped for zippo. Nothing. Nada. Thirty plus dollars for 2 burger plates, a small order of queso, and 2 teas. But the manager thanked us for understanding, and she asked us to come again. Fat fucking chance.
We now stroll into the mall and go to get tickets for the movie at the Cinema 8. There's not much playing, so we decide to see The Men Who Stare at Goats. We have a half hour until the movie, but I've really got to piss, so we decide to go ahead and go in. But they won't let us. They're not seating yet, and they won't even let anyone into the lobby and concession area. We have to stand in line. They only have 1 line for all the movies. Even though they all start at different times. Tell me how much goddamn sense that makes? And there's a 50 foot fucking line for New Moon. I'm about ready to stab someone in the neck with a #2 pencil.
So we browse. Kelly wants to buy an ornament from the custom Christmas shop. The lady asks what we want on it, and I tell her I want it to say Screw Kwanzaa or Hanukkah Sucks. She asks if we want something about Happy Holidays or Merry Christmas. Kelly tells her to put Merry Christmas on it, none of that Happy Holidays crap. I tell her I still vote for Merry Festivus, or Hanukkah Sucks. I mean, it doesn't really, I have absolutely nothing against Hanukkah, I just thought the whole exercise was silly. I even did my best Oy, Vey! The counter girl gave me weird looks, but I'm used to that.
While she was making Kelly's ornament, I found a flying pig ornament, and I had to get it. I wanted it to say Merry Porkmas. And for $10.95 plus tax, it damn well should. But it didn't. After I got it back, and we left, I realized it said Merry Porkman. Which, as I'm sure you realize, is chock full of un-Christmas like sexual innuendo. I said nothing, because at this point, I've decided it's par for the course, and I should have just stayed home.
We get back in the movie line, and begin our 20 minute wait to get in, surrounded by Twilight groupies. I amuse myself by thoroughly and profanely dissing on Twilight, the pussification of vampires, and proclaiming that it should be against the law for women to write vampire fiction. I announce that vampires don't glisten, and they should damn well properly fucking explode when sunlight hits them, because that's how it's done. We finally get into the theater.
I walk into the movie theater, and I stop, look around, and I'm baffled that I can't find the rest of it.
This cinema has 3 rows of 10 seats, and about 18 more scattered behind, in a room the size of my living room. I shit you not, sports fans, and I don't exaggerate. A 15 ft. screen, 3 full rows of 10 seats, and you have to break your neck to see the screen. It's the smallest theater I have ever seen, and I felt like I was in a broom closet.
I opined loudly about how fucking stupid it was, what a rip-off it was, and how it would have been easier to sit at home and watch my flatscreen from 6 inches away. Everyone who walked in had the same "WTF" look on their faces. One guy even turned around, walked out, and he went into another movie. It was pathetic. I wanted to leave, but we'd already bought our tickets, our drinks, and our popcorn. Kelly wouldn't go, so we waited. And then the movie didn't start on time. It started 10 minutes late, and then they showed 4 trailers before they ever started it. And the screen had big ass scars, right in the center of the screen. Like it had been sliced or ripped and taped back together. You could fry an egg on my head.
Kelly thinks it's funny, but hey, at least I got my Christmas ornament. Then I tell her that she engraved it wrong. Now, she's irritated, wants to go back, and have her redo it.
The movie isn't very good. A few chuckles, but all in all, not very good. Even with Ewan McGregor, Kevin Spacey, Jeff Bridges and George Clooney. Big waste of 14 bucks and concessions. It did end about 10 minutes before closing, though, so Kelly insisted on taking the ornament back. She refuses to have Merry Porkman on her tree.
So, we take it back, and she shows her what it says. All the ladies agree that it's inappropriate for a Christmas tree. I ask what the hell's the difference, because Porkman is funnier than Porkmas, and neither one makes any damn sense anyway. They give us a new ornament, and she corrects the engraving. She also mentions some of the half Hanukkah, half Christmas ornaments she has at home.
So, now that I know she's half Jewish, I understand the odd look earlier. I have inadvertently mocked this woman's holiday. Which is just icing on the cake. Although, I have to wonder about the whole Porkman thing. Maybe it was a Freudian slip, and she had weenie on the brain. I don't know.
I though about sitting on Santa's lap and having my picture made for my Facebook profile, but I figured, the way my day was going, I'd wind up in jail.
Finis.
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Update:
And what of the follow-up? What happened, you ask?
Well, after spending $100 to get it cranking again, putting a used battery on it, and putting in new plugs, it turns out it's missing on 2 cylinders. One for no apparent reason, and another, because it has almost no compression. Probably a burnt valve.
Which means, even if I could find a used motor and swap them straight across, it's going to cost me anywhere from $400-700 plus labor to fix it. For an engine that supposedly less than 3 years old, and only had 64k miles on it when I bought it.
So, the moral is, the car dealership is full of lying, cheating assholes. Which one wouldn't expect from a major new/used dealership, but there you go. Total shit weasels. I hope they get humped in the butt by rabid and promiscuous badgers. Badgers with a penchant for STD riddled prostitutes and beating their sex partners, because of seriously repressed issues connected to priest molestation.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go put a Badgers Wanted ad on Craig's List.
Arguments with Jon (Good Natured)
Edited and slightly abridged, I bring to you the latest musing between my good friend, Jon, and myself.
These Facebook threads sometimes carry on for days, and the epic Death Penalty thread got a bit heated, but they're usually chock full of serious debate about reality, morality, ethics, physics, religion, spirituality, the land speed capability of various cuts of luncheon meat, llamas, and the mammaries of various species of domesticated animal. Without further delay, I present to you the following:
*******Jon The good news is, it's just a matter of time before computers will be able to make it look like anybody did anything, and we'll no longer be able to believe what we see unless we see it in person. Of course, it'll get worse before it gets better - some important figure will have to get photoshop-framed, then executed, ...then proven innocent. Hang in there..
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No chance we'll ever over-react when a celeb slips up.
Of course, you could put some money on it. Kev. Honor system - any state rolls back the death penalty within the next 10 years, and you and I will go over it. Loser flies to the winner's state and takes the family out to dinner. :)
It'll happen. It has to. You coudn't exterminate every human being on the planet if you tried. Not to be confused with extinct. An asteroid might could... :)
Gravity = Good, Evil = strong nuclear force
Help me with this metaphor, will you? Where does the weak nuclear force fit in. It's a barrier between the two, right? Without it, the the cycle breaks and you get a stasis which is death.
$6.66