It’s Not So ȼƟɱƿᶅɘẋ

Dear Laundry,

I hate you. I already went through the trouble of washing you, and yet you’re still sitting there in a pile on my bed. All I want to do is sleep; can’t we compromise?

Regards,

Jack

Sometimes I feel that I have fantastic and cosmic powers. Jenny, Dave, Topher, Jonny, and myself were on our way back from Blockbuster and needed to cross the street. Obviously being good pedestrians, we waited until the walk sign popped up, and started walking. Before our walk sign had come, I noted a police officer that had someone pulled over a little ways down the street and a white Grand Am that was revving its engine until it eventually sped onto campus from its light. We were walking across and the same Grand Am came speeding in the opposite direction, determined to beat us and make its turn before we got in the way; we were faster, though. Jenny had run ahead of me, which initially caused the car to stop and wait. It started to inch forward like it wanted to move again as I approached, but then stopped when it realized I wasn’t going to give it a chance. The driver decided to start revving his engine again while waiting for the rest of us to get out of his way. We crossed, it sped off down Grand River (which is 25 mph at this portion), and Jenny decided to flip him off as the passenger was looking at us out of his window. I decide to say at this point, “I’m not entirely sure why he felt the need to act like an asshole, considering there was a cop right there,” and I pointed behind us while we continue walking. As I point we hear more engine revving coming from behind us and tires squealing. The three boys behind us begin cheering before I realize exactly what was happening: The cop had already finished the traffic stop, was patiently waiting at the light when the Grand Am driver decided to be an asshole, witnessed the entire incident, and sped off to pull the car over! It was insanely gratifying to know that the system does, in fact, work sometimes.

The moral? Don’t fuck with psychics.

I was pleasantly surprised on Friday evening while shopping with my parents in the mall. See, it was my dad’s birthday on Friday, so they decided to come visit since I wouldn’t be making it home. My mom decided to make a stop at the Starbucks kiosk, since she always turns into a fancy-coffee drinker when in my presence. She ordered for my dad (because he’s simple) and had no idea what to order for herself. I stepped in and got her a skinny mocha with no whip (simple but tasty). Then there was a brief exchange with the girl working the register and myself:

Girl: Did you want the sugar-free mocha for that too?

Me: Nah, better not.

Girl: Good.

Me: Haha, yeah the syrup doesn’t really even have that many less calories than the regular one anyway, does it?

Girl: Hmm… Really? *Lifts up thin-syrup mocha bottle* It’s only 5 calories.

Me: Ah, see where I work we use a thick mocha sauce.

Girl: Oh! Where do you work?

Me: Beaners.

Girl: Ewwwww.

Me: Haha, well I used to work for a Starbucks! (This statement said a bit loosely since it was really just a mini-Starbucks in the movie theater)

Girl: You should come back then!

Me: Definitely wouldn’t mind, but I have quite a few jobs at the moment…

So then I go ahead and get a simple americano since I’m not in too much of a latte mood that day, she rings us up, my mom pays, I tip the two of them a couple bucks (since she was nice and the boy seemed to be eying me a bit), and we went to wait for our drinks. I had noticed, though, that the total on the register originally was over $10, then reduced to over $7 when she pressed a button, and then finally rested at $5.05 when she finished. I looked over at my mom and whispered, “…I think she may have just given me an employee discount.” My mom looked at her receipt and said, sure enough, “Yeah… you got your drink for free, and both my and your dad’s drinks were half off!”

In the end, it helps to be extra friendly and make some coffee small-talk! It pretty much made the rest of my day though.

It shouldn’t be possible to get writer’s block when writing about yourself, but it turns out it is! I’ve made it through 500 words of my 700 word application essay/questions, and I can’t imagine how I could make it longer without being excessively wordy. Shouldn’t one of the assets of a good employee be punctuality? So then why should I be forced to put into 700 words what I could have easily conveyed in 300? This does nothing but promote narcissism amongst the working class.

And for those that thought I might be talking about facebook applications by the title of this post, I’ll have you know that those are damn-evil too.

I always manage to find constant reminders of why I want nothing to do with my family.

http://www.toledoblade.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080308/NEWS11/803080353

My uncle received $40,000 in severance pay for leaving his (very) cushy job at the Toledo Port Authority. Word on the street? He was fired, though no one really knows what for.

My other uncle is back to being addicted to crack and steals from my grandmother to pay for it, even though she’s well aware that money is missing.

My other, other uncle managed to get himself put in jail for three days for driving on a suspended license.

My other grandmother (in the South) ranted to my mother about how Obama is evil for being a mormon and Clinton is the she-devil. Score.

http://www.legacy.com/ToledoBlade/Obituaries.asp?Page=Lifestory&PersonId=105707015

And yet with all of the evil, hate, and insanity in this world, it always seems to take the best away from us. My neighbor finally died from cancer about a week ago, and he was truly a second father to me. He always made sure to let me know of how proud he was of me, regardless of how big or small my accomplishments were, and I really feel as though a hole is going to be left in my life for not being able to go to his memorial.

Ray Arsenault (1947-2008)