Thanks For The Offer But I'll Pass On The Life Lesson Today.

Life is full of teachable moments. I know this because there seems to be a never-ending stream of people who will try to turn everything you say or do that conveys even the slightest lack of complete positivity into a lesson on how you could be doing better if only you would (*insert way of being told how to live life here*).

If that came across like I'm not particularly fond of receiving unsolicited advice, then I guess it means I was able to successfully relay my feelings on the topic. As much as it may rob someone of the opportunity to display their intellectual & emotional superiority help, I sometimes, would like to not walk around with a fake smile, pretending like everything's peachy for fear that someone I know (or even don't know) will see my less than perfect facade as an opportunity to jump in & tell me what I'm doing wrong & how I can fix it. It's tiring, always having to put up the "everything's okay" front & worrying about even the slightest thing you do or say can be an excuse for the random person nearby to step in.

What really made me aware of that under-the-microscope feeling was something that happened several years ago...

I was waiting for a taxi to get back to work from a lunchtime errand. It was a beautiful, sunny day & I was admiring the sharp colours of the blue sky & white clouds. Sometimes I do things like that. I observe trees, clouds & other things. It's weird, I know, but I enjoy it.

Anyway, I digress (I just realised how long it's been since I've typed that). I saw a taxi coming towards me, I stopped it & got in in the back. As it was the only passenger, I scooted in behind the driver to allow for any other potential passengers he would pick up along the way. No more than ten seconds after the car pulled off, the driver started.

"So, I couldn't help but notice that you were staring up to the heavens just now."

That's when I noticed the rosary hanging from the rearview as well as the old-school (I mean, really, really old-school) gospel coming from the radio. I honestly don't know if my sigh was audible or not but I'm pretty sure he didn't see my eyes roll (I hope). How was I going to get out if this impending conversation that I didn't want to have? "Me like pretty clouds!" was a way to go, I guess...

"Don't worry about it. It's just a thing I do." was all that I said, though.

Fortunately, we were interrupted by another passenger flagging him down & the conversation ended before it began. I still think about that passenger sometimes. I hope she's doing well in life.

It was minor but, for a while after that, I was left feeling like I had to be on constant guard as to how I carried myself in public, down to the most minute detail, so as to not leave an open invitation for unsolicited suggestions & life-coaching.

None of this is to say, mind you, that I already have everything figured out or I even can figure everything out on my own. Like everyone else, sometimes (often) I do need help & advice as I navigate through life. That being said, I don't need everyone jumping in & trying at every chance to take the wheel either.

Sorry if all that came off a bit whiny... I did file this under "rant" after all, so you were warned.

Truth is, since my divorce, I've been thinking about firing-up the old blog again. I got my own place, my own internet & even my own computer... but I was hesitant. When I first started writing here, I was (was?) a complete noob. I thought I could keep this space private from people I interacted with IRL so I could say anything I felt without judgement. That, however, didn't end up being the case. Family came to know about it, coworkers & friends found their way here. I did a piss-poor job of keeping this blog away from my non-virtual life. Maybe... subconsciously... that was intentional. Who knows?

Sometimes, but not very often, a few of these people would even come up to me after I posted something that got too deep to tell me what they thought & how they thought I should handle things. A few even tried to not let on that they read my thoughts here & it was somehow a complete coincidence that this advice was forthcoming.

However, after some soul-searching & figuring out of things (On my own too! Would you look at that!) I've decided I'm not letting those thoughts hamper me from doing things the way I feel I need to do them. Regardless of who has anything to say, this is still my space, after all. Does that mean I'm going to start posting every day/week/month again? Huh! I dunno! We'll see where things go from here.

All this being said, to anyone who knows me ,on or off the internet & somehow still manage come back here to stumble upon this post, let me just say thanks... but I'm alright. The majority of the stuff I write here is peppered with a healthy serving of hyperbole anyway so I'm not as lost & in need as I may appear on "paper". Let me be the one to come to you seeking assistance. It'll feel more special that way, I promise.

Dealing.

(EDITOR'S NOTE: I burn up my quota of swear words for the next few months in this one.)

DAMMIT! I HATE THIS!!! IHATEITIHATEITIHATEITIHATEIT!!!

GAAAAH!!!

That’s how I feel right now. Like some fucking spoiled brat, throwing a tantrum. A very foul-mouthed brat. Why? Because I get depressed sometimes, that’s why? And I hate it.

I mentioned it before, but some of you may not know/remember. I was in banking about four years ago. I was a loans officer and, mostly and I fucking hated it. Then I lost that job – mostly because of my own screw-ups – and had been bouncing around from one place to another, never able to hold down a job for more than six months. The economy was in a slump, banks weren't hiring and it took months to finally find a temporary clerical gig in a small office that paid less than half the income I was making before. That’s how the next three years would go for me. Brief stints of employment here and there, followed my months of unemployment.

As a result of this – maybe even before it (HELL! I don’t know!) – I realized I would go into these “funks” from time-to-time. The worst of it was right after I lost my job at the bank. Back then it was full-on, curl-in-the-fetal-position-under-the-covers-day-after-day depression.

Should I keep calling it that? I've never been officially diagnosed. "Real" therapy's expensive, you know. All I know is it was like a hole had opened up inside me. I felt like something was missing. Like there were things that should be there that just weren't. I remembered, even before things ended with the bank, I questioned whether the road I was on was really the one I should be taking.

As time went on I learned to deal. Or, at least, to look like I was dealing.

Eventually, I started blogging and that seemed to help a lot.

But that hole never went away. When problems started to pile up, there it was, shrouding me and swallowing me up again. True, it wasn't as bad as before. I’d lose interest in things and stop being productive to the point where every task felt burdensome. I literally have to force myself to “function”.

But things are different now. Right? I mean I've been employed since last February. First, with TinyCo – the company that seemed destined to fold at any minute but didn't – and now with the government. My income now isn't anywhere close to what I made in banking but it’s the best it’s been in years. There’s just no reason those old feelings of emptiness to be bother me anymore.

So where the hell did the last week of my life go?

That’s what I fucking hate the most about my “thing”. It’s a creeper. It's a bitch-assed, sneaky kind of gloominess and I never know when it's going to hit or even that I’m going through it. That is, until it comes to a head (or the shit hits the fan). I go into force-function mode and my sporadic bursts of energy during that time allow me to make it through each day with just enough effort to even fool myself and keep drifting along.

I don't know how I got to this state. Sure, life isn't perfect now that my job worries have eased up. I've still been taking a hit or two as a result of our finances going into disarray when I was unemployed. But... Shit, I don’t know!

I know what some of you are thinking. I should talk to someone. I think that's part of the problem. Aside from my wife, there aren't that many people I can talk to. I love her, but there are some things I'm not comfortable talking to her about. Let's not even get into family. I'm a Christian (maybe not the best example of one, but I am), as I may have mentioned and most of my family are as well. But if I have to deal with the cookie-cutter "Go deeper into prayer" answers, I may end up saying some very un-Christian things to them (Don't believe I can? Go back and read some of what I wrote in this post alone.)

The fog is lifting for now, though. I'm just really, REALLY pissed it happened again. Sorry to just spring this on you all. I just needed to vent and since I can't afford therapy and I'm too much of a loner to have "real life" friends to bitch to, the blog is the only place I can pour all this out.

I'l try to be funny next time.

END. RANT.

My Sincerest Apologies.

Dear Fellow Group Assignment Members,

I trust since the last series of frantic emails and calls a half an hour ago you are all doing well. I have taken the time since our last exchange to reflect on what each of you had to express and I have realized I owe each of you some apologies.

First off, I apologize for suggesting the topic of focus for our group assignment. I admit the idea wasn't one of my best. To be honest, even I thought it sucked. It was born out of panic, to be honest. You see, we only had a half an hour to pitch our ideas to our lecturer and, after I realized we were all sitting in silence and staring around blankly for twenty minutes of that time, I think I let fear get the better of me and I simply blurted out the first thing that popped into my head. Believe me, had I known my decision to speak would lead to everyone else automatically turning off their brains and accepting my suggestion wholeheartedly (despite my opening the floor - nay - begging for other suggestions), I would have continued to remain silent with the rest of you.

I am so, SO sorry that everyone automatically assumed - without first confirming it with me - that, since I was the one who came up with the idea, that I would also be the one to prepare the whole draft paper for the lecturer to review and then go on to write the script as well (I hope you can understand my confusion at this point since another member of the group had already volunteered to do so but later, without giving us warning, seemed to have changed his mind). In hindsight, it made perfect sense that you all would just go about your lives for an entire week and think it was being handled by me, despite my not knowing I had to do it.

I'm also sorry for my job suddenly becoming so demanding. Had I known my being transferred to another office so far away, having to prepare a handover package for my replacement and subsequently having to miss a class due to the sheer exhaustion which resulted from all of this would have sent you all into such a state of panic, I would have acted in a more considerate manner.

I must also apologize for the lecturer shooting down our topic (the one I pitched and to which no one offered any alternative.) and that we now have to come up with and rewrite an entirely new paper. Had I known that during the week I was unreachable, some other member of the team would have altered my originally craptastic idea and made it, not only more craptastic, but put it outside the guidelines of the assignment, I would have made it my utmost priority to have handled things differently.

I am especially sorry to you, one-member-of-the-group-who-has-to-constantly-complain-that-you-are-the-only-one-who-is-actually-doing-anything. I know. I KNOW. It has been very hard on you. What, with your being completely silent and unreachable until the last minute and then emailing some shoddily prepared, almost unusable assembly of words, followed by calling and texting everyone in the group to make sure we see that you contributed. That ONLY YOU contributed.

I am perfectly willing to accept your behavior since you admitted to acting unreasonably when the mere thought of failing an assignment enters your head. I'm sure that was what prompted your very aggressive, albeit erroneous, email the other morning at 4 AM, telling us how you have to "put your foot down" and "we should consider ourselves lucky you didn't CC the lecturer on this email". For your sake, I am happy you did not CC our lecturer since, during your little rant, you clearly misrepresented how much you contributed to the group's work and how little everyone else did.

Mostly, I apologize for what comes next. I am afraid I can no longer sit idly by and trust everyone else to be the adults we all are supposed to be. I am truly sorry but, reluctantly, I am going to be taking stricter measures, assigning tasks and responsibilities, and making sure everyone communicates. Trust that I have no desire to do this but some level of leadership is needed going forward and, sadly, I see no one else stepping up to fill that role.

I hope you all can find it your hearts to forgive me for all I have done to contribute to every failure we've had as a group thus far. I will try my best from now on to be more of a team player and to be more considerate of everyone else's needs and commitments. I hope we can work past this and move forward from here.

Sincerely,

Vinny

If You Don't Like It, Then Go Somewhere Else.

At one time, I was in banking. Banking is, of course, a customer service field. You get this concept drilled into your head constantly by the higher-ups. Through endless customer service seminars, training sessions, videos, meetings, etc, bank staff are reminded constantly that the sole purpose of their existence is to make the customer happy.

This gets worse the higher up the ladder you go. I was in loans when I left, with whispers about being elevated to lower management. It was expected I represent the bank 24-7. One of my seniors even told me I should give my clients my personal cell number as well as the number for the branch-assigned cell I was given so they'd always be able to reach me, no matter what.

I never did that though. That branch cell stayed turned off and locked in my desk drawer at the end of every workday. I got really pissed at one of my coworkers for giving out my personal cell (without my permission) to an insistent customer we were both working with. Why? Because, as I said, banking is a customer service field. You were expected to deal with customers on a daily basis. As for a lower management position, AW HELL NO!!! I dreaded the idea of being promoted any higher. That meant being expected to deal more closely with more customers.

I was good at playing the game and making customers feel comfortable, but there were actually only a few of them I could stand. And it wasn't just because I'm not a people person. I realized the problem I had with customers was that most customers know we were trained to kiss their asses for fear that they take their business elsewhere. And, naturally, they took advantage of it.

They became whiny babies who cussed and complained about every inconvenience.

"Why wasn't there a coffee machine?" - We had one. Customers abused it and people were walking in off the street, making coffee and leaving without doing a single transaction. DAILY!

"You don't remember my name? I'm your customer! This is poor customer service!" - We spoke on the phone... Once... Two months ago!

"Why is there a chain on the pen? Don't banks make enough money to be able to lose a pen or two?" - Yes, but you'd still bitch when we didn't have a pen for you to sign with because the person just before you stole it.

"You didn't smile and say the pre-approved greeting! Where's your supervisor?!" - He's the angry looking one over there with a cell phone in each ear and the line of people waiting to speak to him. He won't do any of that shit either.

"These interest rates are too high!" - Ah! Thank you for actually bitching about something loan related. Sorry, though. Whoever sets those works in a shiny ivory tower and can't hear you or me all the way down here.

You get the idea. Customers get caught up in the idea that those in customer service have to put up with their crap and use them to boost their own sense of superiority.

I'd almost forgotten about all this until two incidents I witnessed recently.

The first I'll talk about is actually the second one and it was a few weeks ago. I was in a bakery. I had just walked in and there was this guy - a gas station attendant, by the uniform - pacing, ranting and yelling at the girls behind the counter. He demanded his money back and left. Curiosity got the better of me and I asked one of the girls what that was all about.

"He asked for coffee. He got angry when we asked if he wanted milk and sugar. He thought we should know."

I heard the staff saying that customer was always carrying on like that when he came in. He had a problem with everything they did and almost never bought anything. Just came in, found an excuse to yell at them and leave. Yes, I get that he was a regular, but is screaming at them at the top of your lungs the best way to make sure they remember how you like your coffee the next time? If I had to guess, I'd say the only real reason you went in there was just so you could unload on them.

Then there was the other incident about a month before that. I was in a line in KFC. There was a guy over at the condiment dispenser counter shouting at any staff member who approached him. Why? There wasn't any ketchup at the counter. Despite reassurances that he only had to wait a few minutes for someone to get a fresh supply from the storeroom, he wasn't satisfied. The staff were inefficient and KFC, being such a large franchise, should have them better trained so condiments would be topped up regularly. This was completely unacceptable, as far as he was concerned.

The man was livid and refused to lower his voice until the uniformed police officer in front of me got tired of listening to him. The officer did probably the best thing I've ever seen anyone do for customer service staff in that type of situation. He calmly walked over to the irate customer.

Cop: Sir. Is that necessary? They are bringing the ketchup.

Customer: I'm a customer. I have rights. They're supposed to be more efficient and professional.

Cop: Sir, they're human. And despite your carrying on, every single one of them has been courteous and patient with you. That shows a level of professionalism beyond what most would show you.

Customer: But... I'm the customer...

Cop: Sir. These people are overworked and underpaid and this a very busy branch. These things happen and you are not making there job any easier. I suggest if you don't like the service here, you can just leave and go somewhere else.

Customer: I... I'm sorry, officer.

There was silence after that. Most nodded in agreement. A few in the lines even commented their approval at the officer's remarks. The customer remained silent after that until the ketchup came. Then he thanked the staff member who brought it, dressed his meal and left.

I know there are lax and lazy people out there in every field, customer service is no exception. I also know that sometimes the only way to improve things is to complain and bring attention to the flaws. But, when we are complaining, is it to right an obvious wrong? Or is that we've gotten too comfortable taking advantage of a system that's set up in our favor?

There are things that should be fixed, but maybe, if there are little things about a situation, business or person that bother us to the point that we have to scream at someone, it's best to stop complaining about those imperfections and take our business someplace else...

I'm sure the other place got it totally right.

Nobody Cares!

Okay! Maaaybe I get a little rant-y today. But of course there's also that way funnier post I did over on Sprocket Ink today. Just click here. Otherwise, feel free to continue.

After you visit Sprocket that is...

In life we all go through some crap. Sometimes it can be petty annoying crap that messes up your day, sometimes that crap can be so craptastic it can even be life altering. I've been through both and if there's one thing I've learned from my experiences is this:

Nobody cares.

This took me a while to accept, but the pure and simple fact of it is, no matter how broken up you might be about your troubles, no matter how big a pity party you throw, at the end of the day, people have their own lives and their own crap to deal with. They don't have time to shoulder your burdens too.

Maybe you work for one of those "caring companies". Good for you! But you should know they don't actually "care" about their employees. I'll let you in a secret. It's still all about them. See, they figured that staff are more productive and are less likely to quit (or go on a homicidal rampage) if they feel their bosses "care" about them. Sorry to break it to you like this.

Or am I?

So let's say you had a bad relationship, or worked in a place that totally screwed you over. Do you think the next person or employer that comes along is looking for damaged goods? Maybe that new person or boss sees your potential and decides to give you a chance. Maybe they like fixing broken things and you're their next project. Those will be among the rare exceptions and will only be good up to a point. Eventually, they will expect to see some return on their efforts and you'll be expected to pick yourself up and dust yourself off. If not, they dump you too (WOOHOO! More to sulk about).

Nope. They don't care. They don't give a shit. They don't want deal with your issues. That's the hard truth, buddy.

Now, don't get me wrong, there are those who will care for a while. Close family, even friends will often lend a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on. But they're only willing to put up with it for a while, and trust me, they get really tired of someone who keeps living in the past.

So all that being said, maybe you should think about actually getting over whatever it is that knocked you down and get on with your life. Maybe it's you who needs to stop caring. Just let go whatever "it" was that got you down. Learn whatever you can from it and move forward.

Or not. Whatever! I don't care.

Sometimes It's Nice To Know You're Not The Only One.

As I have mentioned in the past, I use to be in banking. I also mentioned that, due to the poor handling on my part of some situations during that time, I was forced to leave it. It's okay, though. I'm over it.

As I've also mentioned, my wife works for a bank as well. She was lucky. She did data entry there and never had to see a single customer. There was a down side, though. She worked on evenings and our, then, routine was me leaving for work with her fast asleep and her coming home from work after I was already in bed. I used to joke that we were only married on weekends because that was when we actually spent any kind of time together. After multiple transfer requests, they got tired of her... persistence and now she's a teller, working the day-shift in a regular branch.

Because of my experience on the customer service side of things, I try help Mrs. C learn from the mistakes that I made. I warn her from time-to-time about the various perils and, especially, the crazies she'd inevitably meet.

For example, there was the time I had to decline someone's loan because his demands were impossible to meet and he wouldn't listen to reason. There was just no way to approve it.  He, however, said I declined his loan because I was racist. He neglected to take into consideration that we were both of the same race when he made the charge though.

Another time, there was this guy who would apparently come in every few months to complain about discrepancies on his credit card statements. Even though I was in loans, the person dealing with him decided to shovel him off on the next available person and basically conned me into seeing him. By the time I realized he wasn't applying for a new credit card, it was too late.

It was during this meeting that the customer confided in me that the bank was conspiring to hide the truth about his credit card info and that he finally had proof. That proof being his "real" credit card statement versus a "phony" copy the he was provided with.

Customer: You can see it right here! The bank's logo on my copy I got in the mail is red. This other copy they gave me has a black logo.

Me: Okaaaay... What else?

Customer: What do you mean? Mine is obviously the official thing because it's in color. The one they printed and gave me isn't so it has to be made-up.
Me: But the information on both is exactly the same.
Customer: *blink*

Me: Who gave it to you?

Customer: Them. Over by that counter just now.

He was pointing at the CSR counter across the floor. They only have a black and white printer there.

But, this past Wednesday morning was Mrs. C's turn. Like so many of my customers, her encounter had her a state of bewilderment that lasted for about half a day.

Customer 2: I'd like to make a withdrawal.

Mrs. C: Sure. One second... I'm sorry. You don't seem to have any money in your account.

Customer 2: But my disability comes in at the end of every month.

Mrs. C: Wait, please. Let me check the history. Oh yes. It did come in at that time. But it looks like you withdrew it already.

Customer 2: I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about this months payment. It should be there. It comes in at the end of every month, you know.

Mrs. C: Um... sir. It's only the the 17th.

Customer: *blink*

Mrs. C: It isn't the end of the month yet.

Customer: But... the full moon already passed...

Mrs. C: Okaaaay... (places hand close to panic button).

Luckily, her customer left soon after that without incident. I assume to consult with the moon again and make sure their schedules sync-up.

Knowing the crazies exist and actually encountering them are two different things and you almost never know what's going to happen next. Almost makes me nostalgic, to be honest.

Not really.

What’s More Fun Than Moving?

The correct answer would be:

Having to move and jury service. Both. at. the same. time.

Outstanding…

Even better than that is that they both keep dragging out. We were all ready to go yesterday when we found out our new place wasn't ready to receive us. The landlady had some workmen in to install a new kitchen and they left a huge mess. So we move today instead.

As for the jury service, I wasn’t one of the jurors selected for the current case so I have to go back next week. AGAIN! I know! Awesome, right? There’s nothing an unemployed person likes to do more than drag his ass out of bed, get dressed and head into the city to be bored out of his mind all day. This may sound familiar. That's because that is exactly how an actual job is like. Right? But, seeing as I'm not getting paid for this I'm going to go to have to conclude that I am, in fact, still unemployed.

Anyway, as easy as it would be to get into a full-on rant about all of this, I’m going to change the atmosphere a little. Being that this is my first time doing jury service, I’ve decided to share a little what I’ve learned so far:

- The building that houses all of the courtrooms is called the “Hall of Justice”. I've only been in it a few times but I can confirm with a reasonable amount of certainty that the Super Friends do not operate from this building. Very disappointing.

The building doesn't even look the same!
source

- Our legal system here in Trinidad and Tobago is based on the British legal system. That means the attorneys and even the judges (known as magistrates here) all wear long, flowing, black robes. All they’re missing are hoods and sickles.

I object!
source

- Jurors don’t get robes. Or hoods, or sickles. What the hell is up with that?! Aren't we all part of the team now? We’re helping you all do your jobs, people! How about letting us show some team spirit here?

- The attorneys who gracefully glide across the floors of the (impostor) “Hall of Justice” are infinitely more intelligent and important that that we are and ever will be. They know that and they want us to know that too.

- In the courtroom, cell phones are supposed to be turned OFF. Not on vibrate. Not even on silent. The magistrate hates when you disobey this rule. She will stop whatever is going on to express, at great length, her displeasure at the buzzing sound caused by a cell phone disrupting the courtroom’s recording equipment. She get’s really pissed if you text during proceedings.

- Finally, the magistrate – at least the one in the courtroom I’ve been sleeping in assigned to, anyway - does not have a gavel. The hell!?! I thought that one of the perks of that job. If I’m going to be judge, I want a freaking tiny hammer I can bang to shut everyone up, dammit!

I picked all of this up and I haven’t been sitting in on an actual case yet. Who knew there was so much I could learn about the judicial process?

Animals Iz Funny! - Now With Words.

You guessed it! It's Sprocket Ink time! Click the link and go check it out. From the title you can guess that I'm talking animals again and you won't believe what I came across while scouring the web for news to bring to you. When I found this story, I instantly fell in love with it. Let's just say it's about a tiny bug that won a big title in an unusual way. Cryptic, I know. Best you head on over to Sprocket Ink & find out. It's called When Animals Dick Around and, yes, there is a play on the words involved in the title. Trust me, you won't believe this one.

Would you guys believe my internet cut out again? This time it happened about an hour before I posted while I had an unfinished story on schedule.

This was followed by a lot of swearing, packing, running, swearing, yelling and more swearing as threw on some clothes and I scrambled to an internet cafe (the closest one being 20 minutes away) to update the finished post that I had typed on my computer.

Then I had to wait another 10 minutes because all the systems were occupied.

Son. of. a. bitch!

Honestly! Did that girl really have nothing better to do but stare, all dreamy-eyed, at some guy's Facebook profile photo for a whole 4 and a half minutes..? And then buy extra time so she could continue just staring at his picture? Really?!

Anyway, I managed to get online and make the changes... About 3 minutes after the unfinished story went up!

SIGH!!!

It is for you, dear readers, I have made this effort. That being the case, it would be remiss of you to not go over and see what all the fuss was about. Wouldn't it? Besides, the story's totally worth it, trust me.

Let my sacrifice not be in vain.

A Complete Disgrace

This one’s going to be on the ranty side.

There’s this local program here called "Crime Watch" that started here a few months ago. On this show the host goes up and down the country shining a very bright spotlight on criminal activity going on in T&T. He’ll tackle anything, from shoplifting, to car theft, to robbery and even murder. He seems wantonly disregard his own safety as he points fingers, and names names. If he has a wanted criminal’s photo or a recorded video of a crime, he runs it without hesitation and he's constantly taking politicians to task.

Basically, thee dude’s insane. But he’s the kind of insane we may need right now. Perhaps sitting back and idly saying nothing is what has earned us the horrendous murder we have right now. What is sure is that he has been stepping on a lot of toes (Did I mention he takes on crooked cops too?).

Anyway, it was on this show that I first heard about the story of a seventeen year old school girl being thrown into a drainage ditch and beaten by another girl from the same school. And, since we now live in an age where everyone has a video recording device in their pockets, the incident was captured by someone and uploaded to the web. Below is the video clip. If you’re going to view it, be warned that it’s not pretty. Someone decided to add rap music to it and the actual beating is about 2½ minutes in. If you do watch, I recommend skipping to that part.

If you’re like me this gets you right in that spot that makes your eye twitch and veins in your head bulge.

A local paper ran the story soon afterward, giving the victim’s account. In it, the story goes that she and her attacker were friends for several years until that “friend” got mixed up in the wrong company. They got into petty arguments after that that caused the victim to break off the friendship. On the last day of end of term exams, the victim got word of her now former friend’s intention to confront her. She tried to avoid the conflict but was unsuccessful. The other girl and other members of the gang she had joined followed her, jeering. Then, when the victim finally got a taxi to stop and tried to get in they blocked her and that is when the beating began.

What the hell!?! I’m upset that it even happened, to begin with. I know, school fights aren’t new or even rare, but that doesn’t make it acceptable, far less, right. If the victim’s side is really how it went down then this attack was unprovoked. That former friend was simply doing it for the sake of fitting in with her new so-called “friends”.

To top it off, the full video (not this one) shows another person joining in on the beating soon afterward. This wasn’t another member of the gang the friend had joined and not another student either. Hell, she wasn’t even in the same age group. She was actually identified a twenty-seven year old cousin of the assailant.

TWENTY-SEVEN!?! What the hell is an adult, almost in her thirties, doing getting involved in this other than to break it up? (Which no one attempted to do, by the way.) Actually, no, that woman should be ashamed to even call herself an adult.

These things don’t make sense. There’s no reason. They are nothing more than a grim manifestation of human beings’ desire to inflict damage on each other for no other reason than inflicting it. This kind of distress makes us want to consider locking our children in the house so they can make it to the end of the day in one piece.

Can A Stapler Be Used As A Deadly Weapon?

Before I say anything else, I've got a new post over at Sprocket Ink this morning.

Go on over and check it out. While you're there, make sure and hang around a while and see what the others are up to. A lot of great stuff going on over there.

You know all of the crap going on here where I work? Well it's just getting piled higher and higher, so much so that it  actually caused me to end up posting an hour late today.

This pisses me off in ways I can't even begin to describe. And you know my vocabulary.

source

Remember when I said I was fired then promoted? Well since then my supervisor also got canned. Only they didn't keep her. Added to that, I'm being asked to cover two desks since another coworker went AWOL.

But, you know what? I've made a decision. I have decided that I'm they don't deserve me wasting any more time ranting and complaining about them. And I won't. That was the last bit of space here I'm going to give these assholes.

That's the update. Now get on over to Sprocket already. I'd much more prefer you had a good time and, trust me. It's waaay more fun over there.

From A Friend

Dearest Douchebag,

With effect from February of this year certain laws came into effect that have placed a hefty fine on those caught in the act of using his/her cell phone while driving. I am in no means presuming to infer that this is news to you, as I am quite sure that someone as well informed as your douchy self may be well aware of this fact.

This why I was completely caught by surprise when I noticed that you were, in fact, performing the very act of which I speak. I made this observation as you almost run me over at that intersection yesterday afternoon. I’m sure you remember it well.

Thankfully, I was unharmed due to your sudden application of the brakes when you realized that you had run the red light came hurtling in my direction. I do hope that you understand how this could have prompted my intense emotional response and the somewhat colorful reaction which ensued. I meant no disrespect to your mother as I am sure she is a fine woman of high moral standing (Unlike I may have otherwise suggested at the time). Likewise, I am certain your look of disdain over how I so rudely interrupted your call (Which I assume was to secure the purchase of a handsfree device) was also in reaction to the highly charged situation.

However, now, upon reflection, I have to express my concern over yesterday’s events. As previously mentioned, the fee for being caught by the authorities is somewhat exorbitant as many have complained. I can only assume that this to instill fear in those you cannot afford to pay such a fee. You, however, seem well able to afford the cost of the fine. I make this assumption since your rather large, high-end European vehicle looked quite new (Despite what people say about the reasons behind the men’s choice of vehicle size I will cast no such aspersions).

No doubt, in attaining this vehicle you spent quite a pretty penny and, perhaps this may have taken a toll on your personal finances. If that is the case then you may be looking to conserve funds. Is that why your vehicle's tint was so dark? While you would be able to avoid immediate detection because of this, I should point out that there are also laws against it as well - of which I am certain you are also aware.

My dear douchy friend, I know that your financial means are of little consequence in this matter as I am primarily appealing to sense of right and the strong desire within you to adhere to the letter of the law. I am sure yesterday's incident was merely a lapse in judgement. However, in order to provide further incentive to motivate you toward the right decision in the future, I submit that obtaining one of these handsfree devices will only serve to your enhance your douchy appearance and further your douchbag status among your douchbag friends. If greater motivation ever existed, I cannot think of it.

I do hope that we are both able to learn and grow from this event and, one day, look back on our misadventure together as a fond memory. Until next we meet.

Your friend always,

Vinny C

Pedestrian

Lacy's Rant

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