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Sitting in the restaurant looking over the menu. I stroke my chin meaningfully as I make a choice, possibly for the first time in my life.
“I’ll have the deep fried liver chitlins with the chicken hearts.”
“Excellent choice, sir. And would sauce would you like? Tangy or spicy?”
“Spicy!” Wow. I’m not usually this decisive.
“How spicy? One, two or three?”
Oh shit.
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One thing I’ve learned about major life stressors is I’m normally not even aware they exist. But it’s comforting to know that sooner or late your body will get around to being informative about it.
“Hey up there, brain!” the body likes to say. “You fucking idiot. Check it out. Shit is happening all over this place. Wake up!”
Well played, body. Well played. Subtle as always.
What are major life stressors? I think they fall into two major categories.
I’m not sure which category is worse.
This week I changed jobs. (More details on that coming soon.) My wife has also put in her notice to resign her position. We’re moving out of our house of four years and leaving the small town for the big city. As of Sunday I got rid of my car. Christmas exists.
These are all stressors. I know because I looked them up.
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Now that I’m a successful small business owner (one day and counting) and a veritable piece of Americana, my mind has turned to other business opportunities. Where else can I spread?
My idea is a retail location known as The Nothing Goes Store. The sign on the front door says it all:
That’s about it. Come in and have a seat. You won’t be served in the order of arrival. Charter memberships are still not available. No ground floor opportunities are available. Past performance may not be indicative of future results. Therefore, no current or prospective client should assume that the future performance of any specific nothingness (including the advise dispensed by the guru), will be profitable or equal to past performance levels.
It's official. I am out of The Shit Hole, Galactic Empire Designation Death Star One.
I have done punched that clock for the last time.
Yah, me!
To think I've been blogging about hating my job for well over a year now. I never imagined this day could actually come.
I don't really have a lot to say about it right now.
I dropped by the "Grand Opening" of Scientology's latest "Ideal Org" in Portland, Oregon. It was nothing much. I guess that's typical of these events. Only a couple of hundred Scientologists showed up.
As much as it was nothing much, a few things struck me about the event and how Scientology "welcomed itself" into the community.
The overwhelming image and attitude of Scientology in that neighborhood and in that community was, "We don't like you, we don't trust you.
Tickmaster is a website service that sells tickets. (Yes, this is a bona fide typo but I’m not fixing it. -Ed.) They offer a “fan guarantee” chock full of neat-o sounding stuff. I just looked and only counted three fine print asterisks on a bulleted list of eight items. Certain exceptions apply.
Wow. Is that a festive and fun fan guarantee or what?
Some people who purchased tickets through the official Ticketmaster website may have been signed up for a “rewards” program that costs $9 a month. According to Consumerist.com, the attorney for the plaintiffs in a suit against Ticketmaster claimed 93% of program participants never redeemed a single coupon.
This week Ticketmaster settled a $23 million lawsuit alleging that customers were signed up for the program without realizing it costed $9 month which was charged to the same credit cards used to make ticket purchases.
The settlement has been approved by a U.S. District Court judge and, it goes without saying, Ticketmaster did not admit any wrongdoing. Like me, apparently they love to pay $23 million to make problems go away. Hell, I’m always out doing that. Perhaps that’s one reason why I don’t have a lot of money on me. You know my motto. “Never leave home without $23 million.”
The average rewards member lost about $72 because it apparently took about eight months for them to notice the mysterious recurring charge on their statements. “Hey. What’s this giant sucking sound in my account?”
About 1.2 million people who signed up between September 2004 and June 2009 are eligible to file claims as part of the settlement and could receive up to $30. What the hell, it only went on for almost five years. That’s a pretty good run in ecommerce circles.
This sort of thing reminds me of the time my wife booked travel plans from a snarky gnome and we got hit with similar “membership” charges. To this day we don’t know what benefits were part of the program. They never told us.
With all this in mind, I am pleased to announce the new Gigantor Abyss Rewards Program (GARP). According to the world of GARP you provide your credit card information and I respond with a personalized notice of acceptance. The guru will fee you now and, as an added bonus, there’s no waiting room. Membership has its snivileges.
It didn’t know how long it had been there like this. Cold. Dry. Underground. Alone.
From time to time it would reach out beyond itself, encounter resistance and give up.
One day, it became aware that the-everything-that-surrounded contained warmth. And there was moisture. It absorbed water and felt strong. The feelings of life stirred within.
Emboldened, it reached out and discovered things weren’t as hard as they were before. It grew and projected itself. Instinctually it knew which way was up. It moved towards the greater warmth.
Quicker that it ever seemed possible, it broke through and was able to spread open as wide as it could. It turned toward light and felt on its face the sun.
Image Credit: Santa Barbara Hikes
