Geriatric Meltdown, BANNED! and the Silver Tacoma of Rude

Jerry AtrikPerhaps I should have some sort of identification/ warning attached to Jerry when he makes his forays out in public.

It must be fortuitous for the greater community that I usually get stuck running Jerry’s errands for him.  I am normally the one who ends up having to go to Speedway (gas station/convenience store) to get his smokes and to put gasoline in his truck.  That is a bit more complicated than it sounds.

 Speedway has a promotional program in which you earn points for buying gift cards (buy a $50 gift card, get 1000 points, then turn around and buy a $43 carton of smokes with it…) as well as for buying gasoline and the various convenience store crud they sell, such as Monster drinks and “Busted” papers.  Sometimes it’s a tad bit complicated to instruct the young punk clerk du jour on how to  1.) scan your Speedy card, then 2.)  take your cash in exchange for the gift card, then 3.) use the gift card to buy the carton of smokes.  If the order gets screwed up in any way you don’t get your 1000 points for buying the gift card.

When you earn enough points, you can redeem them for various free crap, like a $50 gas card, or an Amazon gift card, or whatever’s on the list.  Jerry’s whole aim in this is to get a $50 gas card.

If he gets 1000 points per $50 card he buys, and he doesn’t buy anything except $50 gift cards,  he’s got to spend $2425 to get a “free” card.

speedway gift cardNot the Golden Ticket, but close.

Anyway, Jerry does know to check the receipt to make sure he got his 1000 points.  The last time he went to Speedway to get his own smokes (I don’t know what possessed him to take this brazen step of self-sufficiency, but something must have) he forgot to have the clerk scan the Speedy card first, so the points didn’t appear on the receipt.

Ordinarily, in most places the clerk or the manager on duty can back out the transaction and let it fly again, but this kid was either new or having a bad day or both, and basically told Jerry tough titty, better luck next time, the money was already on the gift card and since the Speedy card wasn’t scanned first, he wasn’t going to get any points.

Jerry is one of those people who refuses to take “no” for an answer.

jerry points rage

I’m just glad I wasn’t there to witness this personally.

So the clerk (who is probably not terribly thrilled with Jerry’s condescending demeanor and/or gratuitous whining by now) tersely informs Jerry that the manager won’t be in until Monday (this was a Saturday night) and that he could come back then and take it up with the manager.  Jerry refuses to take the $50 card and demands his money back so he can go to the other Speedway to buy the card and get his points.

The clerk refused again.  So let the pissing contest begin.

Jerry doesn’t lose too many of those.  He’s embarrassed me in enough restaurants that he’s almost guaranteed a home-cooked meal.  I generally know how to fix his chow to avoid most of the bitching.  He’s probably one of the fussiest, bitchiest customers the Waffle House and the Frisch’s Big Boy have ever seen.

If I had to wager, I would bet he has consumed his fair share of boogers, loogies, scabs and semen, considering how rude he can be with wait staff.  “I want those fries flaming hot!”  I can hear him now.  Flaming hot with a sprinkling of scabs and a splash of bodily fluids… hawwkkkk…but I’m the passive-aggressive one.  It’s easier to feed him at home so that others are not treated to his egregious lack of manners and proper etiquette.

cold friesNo wonder they cringe at the Waffle House when they see his truck.  The silver Tacoma of Rude!

Then I get a phone call from Jerry while he’s at the Speedway asking me for the non-emergency cop number.  It’s a good thing he didn’t call the number I gave him, because he was in a different jurisdiction than the number he asked for.  Around here, if you’re outside of the area covered by a particular law enforcement agency, that means the dispatcher will tell you that’s not their problem and to call the other jurisdiction, and no, she doesn’t know who to tell you to call if the address you give is not in her area.

In other words, if you’re in the city of Columbus and you call Gahanna’s dispatch, you are SOL, which is what he would have done because he didn’t realize which jurisdiction he was in.  911 doesn’t work like that- dialing 911 will  (almost always) get you the correct dispatch, but you better know which jurisdiction you’re in if you call the non-emergency numbers.

bitchingSome things were never meant to be taken up with law enforcement.  They have enough to do.

I’m thinking to myself,  Are you really going to call the cops – even on the non-emergency number- for something kinda dumb like this?  For a moment I thought of World’s Dumbest and the guy who got arrested for calling 911 because his sandwich sucked and the restaurant wouldn’t give him a refund.  I am thankful Jerry didn’t get cops involved.

At that point, Jerry decides to stage a one man sit-in at the Speedway until the clerk got in contact with the manager, who told the clerk to give Jerry his $50 back, and instructed the clerk to tell Jerry to never set foot in that store again.

Banned from the Morse Rd. Speedway.  While sober.  Truth is indeed stranger than fiction.  To his credit, Jerry did go to the other Speedway and he remembered to have the clerk follow the correct procedure so he finally got his points, his gift card and his smokes.

rude tacomaJerry and the Silver Tacoma of Rude- coming to a convenience store or one star dining establishment near you!

I Love My Flaming Type-A Personality, Deepening Sarcasm, and Welfare Day

Ok, I’m not ripping on the genuinely needy.  As someone who knows all too well what it’s like to choose between food or scripts and/or worry about having essential services cut off, I feel for those who are just trying to get by.  Even so, I should know better than to go anywhere near a grocery store on the first three or four days of the month.  All I do is end up coming home with half of what I needed to get (should I be lucky enough to find that) and a huge screaming headache.

I know not everyone on public assistance is raping the system.  For those who are, I’m paying for you, and it pisses me off.  It pisses me off even more when you are jamming your grocery cart (full of things I can’t afford) up my ass all the way through Kroger’s- after you have picked the store clean of such necessities as the toilet paper that would have been on sale had it been there, the fat-free cottage cheese, the store-brand longhorn Colby cheese, the Pantene Shampoo for Color-Treated Hair (?) and the Absolutely Zero Monsters, which would also (had they been there) been on sale.  There used to be a day when being on public assistance was considered humiliating. It was a necessary evil for the genuinely needy, that kept one from destitution and starvation.  Public assistance is supposed to be a safety net for those who have no other choice.  Now it’s almost “trendy” to shove your governmentally dependent self-righteous way through the grocery store (right over the poor saps who are paying for your sorry ass) like a bloated feeder hog at slop time.  To this I say, WTF?

Perhaps it’s enjoyable to sit back and relax while other people work their asses off to pay for you.  I would be ashamed to behave in such a way, but maybe I’m the one who’s wrong.  Perhaps I’m the stupid one for not figuring out how to milk the system and pursue my Fanny Feline lifestyle, since I’m too old to breed and I just don’t like the idea of smoking and/or dealing crack. (In Fanny’s defense, she’s a cat, and she does what cats are supposed to do.)

The Fanny Feline Lifestyle- not bad, except I’m not into eating meat by-products and having to lick my own butt.

My one quandary in this: if you’re not working, why in the hell do you need the Absolutely Zero Monsters?  To stay awake whilst doing nothing?  If I didn’t have to stay awake at work, my need for caffeine would be virtually nil.  If I had nothing better to do, I could get myself on the feline sleep schedule really quickly.  I think Fanny sleeps 18 hours a day.  That would be awesome.  I wouldn’t mind being Fanny, except being a cat, she has to eat catfood (which smells nasty enough) and she has to lick her own butt.

I am just glad they weren’t out of bacon.  I don’t generally eat bacon, but I do have to buy it.  Occasionally I might like a few bacon crumbles (the bacon bits in the can are good enough) in potato soup, but that’s as far as it gets. Grease and salt are two things my body doesn’t need much of.   But for Jerry, bacon- full fat, greasy, lardy bacon- is essential to maintain his well-being.  Jerry will eat bacon when he will not eat anything else.  It’s bad enough that he didn’t get his longhorn Colby cheese.  I will buy the store brand for $4.79 for an 8 ounce roll when it’s available, (even though that’s outrageous) but I refuse to pay $6 for 1/2 lb. of cheese, which is what the name brand cheese costs.  Call me cheap, but it’s a different world for those of us out there who have to pay for food with real money.

No high faluting fromage for you, Jerry.  It is, shall we say, trés beaucoup.

I did, however score a sale on American cheese slices before all the First of the Month Zombies scarfed them up. Not the plastic imitation ones, real American cheese made with real cow’s milk.  So, eat your grilled cheese and like it. It might be all you get.

Maybe it shouldn’t piss me off.  Usually I don’t give a rat’s ass about what other people have versus what I have or don’t have.  I don’t care about designer clothes.  I don’t care if I have the latest and greatest cell phone.  In spite of being a motorhead, I drive a Toyota Yaris.  My last performance car was the 2000 Celica which I still regret trading in.  I’ve never been an extravagant person.  Maybe that’s what pisses me off- working my ass off so other people can have what I can’t afford, for free.  I’ve never really aspired to having extravagant things, perhaps with the exceptions that I’ve always wanted to have an indoor pool, and I’ve always wanted to go on a cruise.

I wouldn’t mind finding him in my pool.  If I were to have an indoor pool, I would need a pool boy.

Maybe I should start my own foundation to help me- a sort of Send a Cougar to Camp type concept- help the disadvantaged old bitty who’s tired of getting trampled in the grocery store.  People could feel sorry for me and donate $5, $10, $20 and more to my PayPal account until I get enough money to get that indoor pool and go on my cruise.  Only I’d have to say I was running for President or something outlandish like that.  It worked for John Edwards, didn’t it?  He got a free mistress and paid for his illegitimate child through the gratuities of others.  I think the only major problem with that is I’m too honest and straightforward to get away with it.  No one is going to throw money at a potential presidential candidate who would tell people how it is.  I am not a very good liar.

Yes, there are two Americas.  Either you are the poor sucker who gets mowed down by the feeder hogs in the store on Welfare day, or you are the feeder hog.