Tweet of the Day – Thursday Edition
I tweeted 24 times on Thursday, August 25, 2011. In those tweets I deftly weaved a grand tapestry that captured the limitless spectrum of human intensity. I did it all. I was sweet. I was tender. I was grosser than a fart joke. I was funny. I was witty. I was ironic. I was sarcastic. In short, I was a Twitter version of the Renaissance Man.
Along the way I personally went on a Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride of human emotion and, I think, the arc of my tweets reflected this.
The day started like most any other: Literally making myself physically ill at the mere thought of going to work. (I have to face the possibility that I may not have the best attitude about my job.)
But then, something weird happened. My morning was acceptable, I was left alone enough, and somehow I got in a pretty good mood.
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The Little Business License That Couldn’t – Father/Son Edition
This was supposed to be yesterday’s post but was preempted by our breaking Rapture coverage. We now join our regularly scheduled post already in progress…
In some cultures when an elder passes away, it’s often equated to the loss of a “library.”
Gone with the elder is a lifetime of stories, knowledge and experience. The elder will live on, though, if those stories have been passed down to others in the community.
My boss is the owner of the small business where I work. He decided it would be a good idea to help his 16-year-old son start a business, too. Lord, you should see how he swells up with pride at the thought of his son becoming a capitalistic entrepreneur, a money-grubbing reader of the Wall Street Journal like himself.
For newbie readers of the blog, here are a few things you should know as way of introduction to my boss that should help you digest this post. Like my last boss, he holds himself up as a paragon of Christianity. That’s all well and good, at least until the hypocrisy kicks in. Both have, for example, fraudulent pictures of their retail stores on their websites, a peculiar commonality to be sure. Both of them took random pictures of buildings where their stores had never been located and photoshopped the name of their business onto the photos. And did a shitty job of it, too. Then comically and laughably put those images up on their ecommerce websites.
What are the odds of working for two assholes like that? And one right after the other? Am I lucky or what?
The last boss did it because everything about his business was a lie. The new boss did it to prove to suppliers that he has a retail location or else they wouldn’t sell him product. (He doesn’t.)
They have other things in common, too. Like lying on their websites about products being “in stock.” The argument here is, “Once you get their money, you can usually talk them into something else. Above all else, keep that money!” Note that the customer’s actual needs don’t factor into this equation.
The new boss goes a little further with his elaborate house of cards and lies. That’s because he’s been “blacklisted” by manufacturers of the products he sells because he breaks their rules. So he establishes dummy companies with fake identities and has mail drops across the country so he can keep buying from the places where he’s been blacklisted.
“I’m a good Christian and a good person who’s saved. I’m going to heaven and you’re going to hell. And I break the shit out of commandments like ‘thou shall not lie’ based on my own wants and justifications. Most people like me believe the ends justifies the means.”
It’s always touching when father and son meet and come together in precious family moments. There they were in the office working together on the new ecommerce business which was going to be remarkably similar to the existing one. Just a different flavor of widgets from the product catalog. There they were, as father and son, discussing business names, logos, products, websites, and more. Aye, so touching. It brings a wee tear to me eye.
It was decided that the son’s company would use one of the boss’ existing suppliers. Now this is a bit interesting. With this supplier there’s a woman who is our account manager. The boss has worked hard to cultivate his relationship with this woman. It’s a tactic to get good deals and ply her for information. To this end he frequently checks in with her on the phone, faking sincerity, cracking jokes and demonstrating his most impressive business acumen. (Excuse me while I go projectile vomit.)
He even went so far as to meet her at the industry convention in Las Vegas where they had a meeting and she bought him dinner. Yes, he’s a true player extraordinaire.
The point is that his relationship with this woman and his supplier is very important to him. For his own selfish reasons, of course. And it’s something he’s rather proud of.
He got the supplier on the horn to establish an account for his son’s new venture. That company would need its own account for buying things. And he was told by this woman he has befriended that part of the process was that a business license would have to be submitted.
At last! The heart of the matter.
You see, a business license from the city would cost money. And, above all else, the boss (just like my last one) is a freakin’ tightwad. This presented quite the quandary. It’s basically “I want something but I don’t want to spend the money to get it.” What to do? What to do?
Photoshop to the rescue! The boss put his arm around his son, grabbed his business license, and the download of knowledge from one generation to the next was about to begin! “What we need,” he explained wisely, “is to photoshop this document so it looks like it’s yours. It just needs to look real enough that they’ll accept it.”
It’s another touching Hallmark moment between father and son! Quick! Somebody get me a Lifesaver! [sniff]
Tom B. Taker
Ah. Tradition! The boss is helping his son start a company. Teaching him the basics like how to forge a business license in Photoshop.
May 16, 2011
And so the son earnestly went to work, hunched over his computer, original document in hand, his nose to the photoshop. And I have to admit. He did a good job. A damn good job. When he was done he had a fraudulent document that would even fool me.
The apple had not fallen far from the tree.
The fraudulent document was sent to the supplier and all was well with the world. Just another successful day of “business” in capitalist America.
The boss got a call from his supplier friend. It seemed there was a minor problem with the document he had sent. You see, she took the extra step of calling the city to verify the document’s authenticity. It seems that – somehow – the city had no record of that business!
Mwuhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Eat that, motherfucker!!!!!!!
Sometimes even I have to admit – positive things can happen in this world! Truly they can! Verily I say unto you!
So yeah, that’s the way this story goes down. The boss took a powerful shit on the relationship with the supplier he had tried so hard to cultivate. I guess you could say this is where “What I want” meets “reality.” I have to admit, it was quite a refreshing moment. It almost makes life worth living to be able to witness moments like this.
He basically told her: I don’t respect you. You are dumb enough to fall for this. I am not trustworthy and I lie to you.
That woman must be an angel! I’d like to buy her a beer!
Is the boss contrite? Did he fess up and apologize? Has he learned his lesson? Any regret or remorse for what he’s done? Of course not! He acts as if nothing happened. The only emotion he’s expressed is irritation at getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The end of the story is that the boss went to the city and forked over the money for a real business license and sent that real document on to the supplier. They are now considering his “application” and taking their sweet time, too. Ha ha ha!
Where do assholes comes from? The answer isn’t that surprising. They are carefully handcrafted by existing assholes. Great assholes aren’t born – they’re made.
Beg, steal and borrow: A gerbil’s tale
Gerbils sure are industrious little critters.
My little point and shoot camera isn’t much but it’s all I have. My wife and I used to have two of the exact same cameras, but one was lost, along with a vacation’s worth of pictures, in a Greek restaurant in the big city. I don’t recall what I was drinking that night but it must have made me forgetful. As far as we can tell, I must have left the camera in the booth and it was never seen again. Someone out there got some crazy pictures of me at the Chinese gardens, that’s for sure!
I guess it would probably be a good idea to make a sign that says, “Hello. My name is Tom B. Taker and this is my camera. My email address is firstname.lastname@example.org and my phone number is 555-555-5555.” I could have my picture taken holding that sign and keep it as Photo #1 on the camera for all time. Yeah, something like that would probably be a good idea. I guess that’s probably why I’ve never gotten off my ass and done it yet! Maybe we should also use a Sharpie to write my name in my underwear. Meh.
It turns out that our son, the gerbil, has a camera like ours, too. Same make but a newer model and, amazingly, it uses the exact same USB cable to download pictures into the computer.
I have these hooks in my home office where I hang my car keys. I’ve always kept the camera cable hanging on one of those hooks because I do not want to lose that puppy. We don’t have fancy things like card readers.
Even though we were careful somehow the cable still went missing. We were never sure what happened and just shrugged it off as one of those things.
We take a lot more pictures than the gerbil, so we ended up “borrowing” his camera cable. That was a few months ago.
I don’t want to go into all of the specific gerbil news of late, but suffice it to say he has been quasi-moved out of our house for about two months now. In a nutshell that means that all of his stuff is still in our home, his dead car is still in our driveway, and we see him about twice a week but only when he needs favors.
Somehow this weekend my wife ended up going through some of the gerbil’s possessions that still remained in our home. They are likely to be there until the day we die.
Suddenly I heard my wife cry out in alarm. “You are not going to believe this,” she yelled across the house.
Fearing the worst, I stayed relaxed and kept my ass glued to my chair in front of my computer as she came to me rather than the other way around. “Guess what I just found?” she asked.
She held up a camera USB cable. “This is the gerbil’s camera cable!”
I dumbly looked at her holding up the cable and then over at our camera case. Laying there, next to our camera, was the twin to that camera USB cable. A light bulb went off over my head. “That means we’ve been borrowing our own damn cable from the kid this whole damn time!!!”
She just nodded. “Yup!”