Day 3: Lost
Sharing a rental car is almost as bad as it sounds, except worse. Don't get me wrong, the two guys I have to share my plush Kia Sedona with are generally nice guys, but each has shown to bring a little less to the table than one would hope. First is Terry, a sweet gentleman from Indianapolis who has done a great deal of real estate law across the country. However, I can't figure out how he got to these many places as he has the navigational skills of a blind, one-legged man using a broken compass in the dark. Maybe that's an overstatement. However, after pulling direction off the internet, Magellen told me to "look for the 97 off of the 121, and exit there." After driving for 20 minutes and not seeing the 97, I asked to see the directions, only to discover the 121 BECOMES the 97, and we should have been looking for the 183. Great, so we were 15 minutes late after I spun us around in Bedford and right into the teeth of the morning commute. Great first day fellas!
Car partner number two is our portly fellow from Alabama via St Louis and the good folks and Anheuser Busch. He has successfully made me feel incredibly uncomfortable no fewer than 10 times in the last two days, culminating with the ever so gentle queary as to my choice of radio station by asking, "What is this, n___ music?" Ah, that's sweet south racism, because Im not sure he realized how absolutely awful a comment that was. Im glad I was able to get out, "Jesus, enough of that..." through my incredulously gritting teeth.
Today was a fun day of work, where we got to sit....and sit......and sit, while our fearless instructor went over about 7 slide shows. That seems bad, but it's not nearly as bad as having each slideshow followed up with questions that have zero relation to our job. Essentially, whenever the floor was open to questions, Curtis (our instructor) was forced to delve into detail about essentially every job requirement except those we would be responsible for. Eventually, I discovered that the rather large woman at the front of the room was an actual Katrina victim. Oh, if only that was all I knew. She proceeded to interject, interrupt and intervene in every discussion with comments that boiled down to a constant reminder that she was there. "Oh, it's worse when you see it live!", "FEMA did nothing for me!" "blah blah blah." Look, Im sensitive to the fact that people lost alot, and they are struggling still today - hell, Im doing this job trying to do my part to help - but we are well past the time where it does any good to complain. I almost think people who are even tangentially related to a disaster get a buzz off of talking about it, and getting any pity they can from their listeners. "Um, I work at the Famous Ray's Pizzaria at the New York, New York casino, which is like a block from the fake World Trade Center, and I just imagine if I was working at the real Famous Ray's....can you imagine? That could have been me, not me!" The highlight of my day ended up being three Diet Pepsis, a Red Bull, two crossword puzzles, and the first uneventful drive between work and the hotel.
Evil. Pure evil. South Park did an episode called "Something Wall-Mart This Way Comes." The synopsis reads as such, "The streets of South Park are like a ghost-town when a giant Wall-Mart lures all the townspeople to the new store with its incredible bargains. Cartman becomes a boy possessed by the power of Wall-Mart and its low, low prices. In order to save their town, Stan and Kyle have to find a way to destroy the ever-expanding superstore while keeping Cartman from stabbing them in the back." Never before has any single show hit the mark like this. I was stuck today, needing a pair of socks, a notebook, and some vegetables. I tried my damnedest to find a Target Superstore, but logistics and a shared vehicle necessitated that I make my first foray into the bowels of Wal-Mart. They are everywhere here, like the Nordstrom of the south. And I am here to say, this place is exactly as it is portrayed on South Park. I went in there, and started looking for stuff, and I found everything I wanted. And it was affordable. Very, very affordable. Then I went to the food section. Everything was stocked to the ceiling, with incredible prices, quality and quantity. I started to become mesmorized by the smiling faces. They were calling me, and I felt like I never wanted to leave. I grabbed a pack of tortillas for .88 cents. I grabbed some shredded cheese for 1.50. Then it was a 6 pack of Diet Pepsi bottles for 3 bucks. I was literally in a trance, and I started to shake out of it, slowly pushing my cart to the check out stand, eventually jogging.....until I was practically in a dead sprint. I had to get out, I told myself. I was starting to sweat, and my chest felt tighter. The Wal Mart was trying to crush my spirit. Chips....energy drinks...an entire butcher's section....and a McDonalds, right in the store! Feel free to pay for your meal with your groceries! I quickly fashioned a cross out of a broom for 1.35 and a 25 cent giant Slim Jim. Holding it close to my chest, I manuevered through the 20 dollar jeans, hoping the watchful eye of the Wal Mart would lose me in the denim. I was confronted by a gaggle of greeters, each older than the next. As more appeared, the teeth to mouth ratio lowered and lowered. I grabbed three dollars worth of tube socks, and loaded them up with 2 dollars worth of batteries.....swinging wildly I made my way to the checkout stand, and escaped only 40 dollars poorer. "Come again!" sang the greeter as I raced by with my ill-gotten loot. I turned back long enough to see the vacant gleam in her eye, and to catch a whiff of the foul stench of desparation as I rode my cart to freedom.....
On that note, I must report that the weight I lost in the past year is more significant than previously imagined. The hotel gym scale reports a current weight of 178, down from 207 last January. If you see Sally Struthers, tell her to add me to her list.....until tomorrow....
Car partner number two is our portly fellow from Alabama via St Louis and the good folks and Anheuser Busch. He has successfully made me feel incredibly uncomfortable no fewer than 10 times in the last two days, culminating with the ever so gentle queary as to my choice of radio station by asking, "What is this, n___ music?" Ah, that's sweet south racism, because Im not sure he realized how absolutely awful a comment that was. Im glad I was able to get out, "Jesus, enough of that..." through my incredulously gritting teeth.
Today was a fun day of work, where we got to sit....and sit......and sit, while our fearless instructor went over about 7 slide shows. That seems bad, but it's not nearly as bad as having each slideshow followed up with questions that have zero relation to our job. Essentially, whenever the floor was open to questions, Curtis (our instructor) was forced to delve into detail about essentially every job requirement except those we would be responsible for. Eventually, I discovered that the rather large woman at the front of the room was an actual Katrina victim. Oh, if only that was all I knew. She proceeded to interject, interrupt and intervene in every discussion with comments that boiled down to a constant reminder that she was there. "Oh, it's worse when you see it live!", "FEMA did nothing for me!" "blah blah blah." Look, Im sensitive to the fact that people lost alot, and they are struggling still today - hell, Im doing this job trying to do my part to help - but we are well past the time where it does any good to complain. I almost think people who are even tangentially related to a disaster get a buzz off of talking about it, and getting any pity they can from their listeners. "Um, I work at the Famous Ray's Pizzaria at the New York, New York casino, which is like a block from the fake World Trade Center, and I just imagine if I was working at the real Famous Ray's....can you imagine? That could have been me, not me!" The highlight of my day ended up being three Diet Pepsis, a Red Bull, two crossword puzzles, and the first uneventful drive between work and the hotel.
Evil. Pure evil. South Park did an episode called "Something Wall-Mart This Way Comes." The synopsis reads as such, "The streets of South Park are like a ghost-town when a giant Wall-Mart lures all the townspeople to the new store with its incredible bargains. Cartman becomes a boy possessed by the power of Wall-Mart and its low, low prices. In order to save their town, Stan and Kyle have to find a way to destroy the ever-expanding superstore while keeping Cartman from stabbing them in the back." Never before has any single show hit the mark like this. I was stuck today, needing a pair of socks, a notebook, and some vegetables. I tried my damnedest to find a Target Superstore, but logistics and a shared vehicle necessitated that I make my first foray into the bowels of Wal-Mart. They are everywhere here, like the Nordstrom of the south. And I am here to say, this place is exactly as it is portrayed on South Park. I went in there, and started looking for stuff, and I found everything I wanted. And it was affordable. Very, very affordable. Then I went to the food section. Everything was stocked to the ceiling, with incredible prices, quality and quantity. I started to become mesmorized by the smiling faces. They were calling me, and I felt like I never wanted to leave. I grabbed a pack of tortillas for .88 cents. I grabbed some shredded cheese for 1.50. Then it was a 6 pack of Diet Pepsi bottles for 3 bucks. I was literally in a trance, and I started to shake out of it, slowly pushing my cart to the check out stand, eventually jogging.....until I was practically in a dead sprint. I had to get out, I told myself. I was starting to sweat, and my chest felt tighter. The Wal Mart was trying to crush my spirit. Chips....energy drinks...an entire butcher's section....and a McDonalds, right in the store! Feel free to pay for your meal with your groceries! I quickly fashioned a cross out of a broom for 1.35 and a 25 cent giant Slim Jim. Holding it close to my chest, I manuevered through the 20 dollar jeans, hoping the watchful eye of the Wal Mart would lose me in the denim. I was confronted by a gaggle of greeters, each older than the next. As more appeared, the teeth to mouth ratio lowered and lowered. I grabbed three dollars worth of tube socks, and loaded them up with 2 dollars worth of batteries.....swinging wildly I made my way to the checkout stand, and escaped only 40 dollars poorer. "Come again!" sang the greeter as I raced by with my ill-gotten loot. I turned back long enough to see the vacant gleam in her eye, and to catch a whiff of the foul stench of desparation as I rode my cart to freedom.....
On that note, I must report that the weight I lost in the past year is more significant than previously imagined. The hotel gym scale reports a current weight of 178, down from 207 last January. If you see Sally Struthers, tell her to add me to her list.....until tomorrow....
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