Yesterday morning, the pizza place's owners called me. To apologize for the mess.
It turns out they checked on what happened, and things went down as I had guessed already: when the kitchen messes up, they have to pay half the cost of the messed food. The girl whom I talked with on the phone was afraid of having to pay for the repeated mistakes, and in a panic blurted out that crap about 'eating half the pizza before complaining'.
Not that it makes calling anyone a scammer okay.
We talked on the phone for a half hour or so, while they explained they are having trouble with finding good help, cooks and waiters and counter people doing shoddy work, only interested in collecting their paycheck. Turns out I was not the first to complain, but I was the first to go out of my way to make a point of how dissatisfied I was.
They actually thanked me for the wake-up call.
The two talked about how they spent the time since my 'incident' going over notes and records, and noticed how the service quality takes a nosedive in slow days. So, they were actually scared the bad service was alienating customers and preventing the business from growing. Wondering how many people order or sit down at the place to eat for the first time, get bad service, and never return.
So, long story short: I accepted my money back, accepted their apology, and also apologized for my piss and vinegar stunt, even while they kept reassuring me I was right in being pissed off and how my reaction snapped them into action.
I might be ordering from them again in the future.
Who knows, right?
Their pizzas are really awesome.
You are inside your sedan, face-first into the deployed airbag. Your chest hurts a little from the yanking of the seatbelt, but besides that minimal discomfort you seem uninjured.
The car is halfway into a ditch beside the road, the left-side light still on. The engine is stopped, and the whole of the car is askew, stuck in an odd angle. There's a crack on the windshield, passenger side, and the rain is washing off what seems to be blood.
You remember... a person, running into the road right in front of you. No time to stop, and you only had a glimpse before hitting the person, losing control of the car and crashing.
Probably you should do something about your current situation.
Who are you?
Why were you going to Union City?
So, I hurt my foot yesterday. Jumped from some height, landed bad on heel and ankle. Nothing broke, but it hurts, a low level of constant pain that gets worse when I walk. Pain makes me cranky. And I can not go to see a doctor, because my health insurance plan's docs are on strike, claiming to be grossly underpaid. Oh joy.
So, deciding I should avoid walking much, I realized I could not really go grocery shopping for the week. I decided to order two pizzas and complement my diet for the next few days with fruit salad and juices I can buy at the cafeteria at work.
Sounds like a plan, right?
I called my favorite pizza place, and ordered the pizzas; deciding to spoil myself, I go for a tuna and cream cheese, and a bacon, chicken and cream cheese. Splurging with myself, I also ordered a two-liter container of ice cream, planning to relax and have some therapeutic junk food. Pizzas and ice cream arrive, I stash the ice cream in the freezer for later and grab two slices of pizza, tuna and creamy cheese. I start eating pizza always from the outer edge in, saving the central, thin end, with the most topping, for last. So, I had gone over about half of the two slices when I discovered onion bits mixed with the creamy cheese.
I have an irrational dislike of onions. Or rather, of pieces of onions, I hate the texture of onions being chewed and the sound they make. I can only use onions in seasoning if I blend them to puree.
And I have my aching foot making me cranky.
I call the pizza place and complain, even more flabbergasted since onion is not one of the listed ingredients of the tuna pizza. The person who takes the call asks me to wait, and lays down the receiver.
After ten minutes (I was staring at the clock all the time, I hate to be on hold on the phone) the call drops.
Now I'm pissed, and take a few deep breathes before calling again. Mind you, nobody apologizes for the abandoned call, but, fuck it, I just want a solution to the onion thing, because I'm not paying for something I'm not eating. The pizza place person offers to send me a new, onion-less pizza.
Fifteen minutes or so later, the replacement pizza arrives, I hand over the onion-tainted one and check my new pizza.
It's burnt. All around the edges, and burnt on the underside, and it smells of burned. I knew I should have checked before the delivery guy left, but, silly me, I was thinking they would not mess up twice. I call again, and now I am agitated and unleashing the pissed-off sarcasm, because I'm hungry, disappointed, aching. Then, comes the cherry on top of the shit-sundae, apparently the delivery guy arrived back with the pizza and the person I was talking to checked it.
The following jewel was tossed at me: "Well, you did eat half the first pizza..."
I saw red for a moment.
First, I ate half of two slices. Last time I checked, half of a quarter was 1/8th, not half of the whole. Second... well, no second, it was bullshit, the person I was talking to was accusing me of trying to get free food. I told her so, and we argued a bit, pizza-employee denying saying anything even remotely related or similar to me consuming half the pizza before complaining, then saying the manager was not in and nobody could be held responsible....
I hung up.
Took the burnt tuna pizza, the untouched bacon pizza, the ice cream, loaded it in my car and drove over. When I got there, the manager/owner had arrived, and I simply handed him the whole thing, told him what had happened, and wished him a good night. He offered to return my money, and I told him I did not want it.
"But sir, I can not possibly keep your money if you are returning the food..."
I cut him. "No, you can and you will. You, this restaurant called me a scammer, so I'm buying a bit of payback for $$$ and calling you thieves. And of course, I will be taking my business elsewhere, which is a pity because I really liked your pizzas. Until tonight."
He still opened the till and tried to count out and give me back my money, but I just went back to the car and returned home. Sincerely, I hope it sticks with him, how he has money he did not earn, because someone who works for him decided to lie and call me a scammer. I really hope it sticks for a while.
Suspicious, the manager looked up phone numbers and contacted "Doctor Jane Doe", who denied ever having written the note for [Dumbass], and more, after some looking around, she discovered a rubber stamp with her name and such details was missing.
From her workplace.
The Federal Justice Branch I work at. (We have a doctor and a dentist onsite)
A very quick check revealed that [Dumbass] was at the time (december last year) one of our rent-a-cops. One of our security guards, specifically, the guy who stayed overnight. He worked two jobs, at Federal Court and at FancyShoeStore.
I will spare the details of digging around, checking, talking to people and so on that filled most of my day, but what seems to have happened is: on the night of the 21st to the 22nd, or the 22nd to the 23rd, he used his access to the key locker in a most despicable way, stealing a stack of [Medical Insurance Company] forms that can be used for prescriptions, lab test request and notes for employers, but could not find the doctor's rubber stamp (it's park of a keychain and the good doc carries it around, instead of leaving it on his desk). Not to be deterred, he stole the dentist's stamp and tried to use it to get himself a paid Xmas holiday.
Why 'epic proportions', you say?
First, [Security Company] fired him, and since he was fired for abusing employer trust and committing a crime, he has no rights to unemployment benefits. More, his Security Guard certification is being revoked, and he will never again be able to work as such.
[FancyShoeStore] fired him for the fake note. Same lack of benefits as above applies.
[Justice Court] will be sending federal police after him. He will be -arrested- (unless he is smart enough to start running now) and trialled by a federal-circuit judge, and those guys are notoriously hard on 'betrayal of trust' crimes. Heck, he might end being trialled by the president of the Court where he committed the crime, because our Prez is also a Federal Judge.
He will never be able to have a public service job, city, state or federal, because he will have a criminal file.
When any possible employer runs a background check, 'stealing from the job' and 'falsifying documents' will be on his records.
Our dentist can personally sue him, for the use of her name in the fake note.
The Medical Insurance Company can sue him, for the use of the stolen form.
The Security Company he worked for can and likely will seek criminal charges, breach of contract, losses due to the blow to its public image and such.
So, [Dumbass] very completely and throughly ruined his own life, because he wanted to be paid and not have to work around Xmas.
I wish I could ask him, 'was it worth it'?
This year I've been busy!
Last Friday I set ceitfianna's puppy on fire (-66 points). In March I helped viralmemory see the light (8 points). Last Monday I donated bone marrow to kitttieluv in a life-saving procedure (300 points). In June I committed genocide... Sorry about that, ravenlord_ak (-5000 points). In July I helped yakalskovich hide a body (-173 points).
Overall, I've been naughty (-4931 points). For Christmas I deserve a spanking!
Introduce yourself (in great detail).
I am the Talon of Swift Death. I serve She Who Must Be Obeyed, and through her, Those Who Slumber.
You need more?
Well, let me tell you this: life is about choices and its consequences. The weak blame others for bad choices, the strong learn and move on without worrying about blame.
When you find your calling, you follow it. You face the consequences, you are wronged, and you seek vengeance. But after vengeance, what is left but the ashes?
My Liege showed me the answer, and now I have a purpose that will not fade, no matter what.
You look distressed. I can help...
...and show you why I am named thus. Scream if you wish, fight if you want, but it will just make the passage harder for you.
His essence was vaguely dissatisfying, and his soul was not strong enough to linger in the underworld, but perhaps his next incarnation would be wiser.
The guy delivers his speech stuttering, to reinforce the point that before the "Ztronik Leftra"*, it was impossible to shift gears without the car jumping, jolting and jerking. Even with other automatic transmissions.
As the driver of a stick shift, I am always faintly insulted by the ad and the implications that I need a machine to do what I have been doing for over 15 years: smooth gear shifts.
* - look how clever I am, changing a few letters to not seem like I am mocking the Xtronic Nissan Centra...
- Paraphrasing Luis Fernando Veríssimo.
I bought the Steam Digital Deluxe version, and played my Joined Trill up to Lieutenant Commander 3, ignoring the things I did not like and hoping they would change, but they did not. I started a Klingon character, and the things that annoyed me as Starfleet turned even worse as part of the Empire. All together, I sunk over a 100 dollars into the MMO, and in the end... well, I chalk it up to "90% wasted money".
And this is why:
First, the game has only three kinds of missions.
A) Space Combat.
B) Surface Combat.
C) Run/Fly from Point A to Point B to Point C...
Of course, there are mixes and matches of those, but they did not change the experience enough to hold my interest any longer. The game is repetitive, and full of clichés. The computer AI is dumb and predictable, knowing only the overwhelming force strategy. You are actively discouraged to try hard missions, because if you are not geared/trained well enough, you are likely to be killed in seconds.
Second, "random" indoor areas on surface exploration ("C" Type mission) and surface combat missions ("B" Type missions) are annoyingly mazelike. I would expect a scientific facility or military outpost to have some order and organization, but what you find are completely random-sized rooms and hallways, with random connections. If you have to access 4 computers inside a facility, those are also randomly placed, usually in one of the several hard-to-reach corners.
One of the redeeming (but not much) points of the game was the fact that the fixed Starfleet bases have simpler, clear layouts. The Klingon starting zone is a maze on itself.
Third, the game is not 'real' 3D by any stretch of imagination: you can not turn a 'loop' or fly straight 'up' or 'down' out of the position and heading your ship starts in. That makes space combat feel much like normal air combat.
I really expected more from the game.
It does not work anymore! And the Dalaran portals are gone too!
You just need to be able to read a map. The ingame one.
1 - Make your way to the closest transport to Northrend (Menethil Harbor, Stormwind Harbor, Zeppelin Tower outside the Undercity or Orgrimmar).
2 - Take said transport to Northrend.
3 - No matter where you arrive, tag the flight point.
4 - Die. No, not joking, die. Find the closest hostile creature, the nearest high ledge, the most handy deep water to drown, and die.
5 - As a ghost, you have a few options:
- From the Borean Tundra you can run north to Sholazar or east to the Dragonblight. If you pick Sholazar, head to the north-east side until you reach the area known as The Avalanche and climb it towards Icecrown. If you pick Dragonblight, run north to the Crystal Vice and Crystalsong Forest.
- From the Howling Fjord, you can run north-west to Grizzly Hills and into Dragonblight. From there, continue north all the way to Crystalsong..
6 - Remember you have to be a ghost. If the next part does not work because you dumbly resurrected and is corpse-trekking, don't blame me. As a ghost, when you enter Icecrown (by the heights of the Avalanche) or Crystalsong, you should be automatically placed upon a Spectral Gryphon.
7 - Fly to Dalaran! It is floating high above the Forlorn Woods in Crystalsong.
8 - Fly high into the city to not be dismounted early, or take the Underbelly Sewers entrance on the south side. Make your way to the street level.
9 - You should see a map arrow indicating the Spirit Guide position in the tiny Dalaran cemetery. Go there.
10 - Standing in front of the Spirit Guide, you will NOT be able to resurrect (yet). LOG OFF the game. LOG ON afterwards. Then you can be revived in Dalaran.
11 - Head to the nearest friendly Inn (there are three, one in your faction area, one in the street level and one in the sewers) and set your hearthstone to Dalaran.
12 - Make use of the portals in your faction's area to travel the world.
Short line, but at the front there was a lady harassing one of the two deli workers. Imagine a shrill, strident voice, loaded with generous helpings of arrogance:
"Slice it thiiiiiiiiiiiinn! Slice it thiiiiiiiiiiiinn! No, start over, thiiiiiiiiiiiinn like a bible's pages!" The Deli worker was slicing one sample slice, bringing it to the woman. Lady would roll it between her fingers a bit, take a bite then toss it on the floor and resume her screeching for thinner slices.
After some of that, with the line growing while the Screeching One continued her wastage and shrill harassment, she came up with this gem: "Slice it thiiiiiiiiiiiinn, damn you, slice it thiiiiiiiiiiiinn or I will fuck you!"
The deli worker, male, without missing a beat, replied in a very apologetic customer-servicey tone: "Thank you for the offer, ma'am, but I am happily married and even if I were not, you are just not my type."
The Screeching One was, understandably, laughed off the area by the whole line.
Namely, "baby" and "green tea" scented TP.
I don't know about you, but... while I am wiping, I would find it very disturbing to be assaulted by sensory stimulation making me think of infants or Japanese tea ceremonies. I mean... WTF, Klabin & Sons? "Lavender" was not good enough?
What is next? "First Kiss" scent? That is all kinds of screwed up...
"Oh, nice scent of this TP, it reminds me somet... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
A few years ago, I was doing hotel reservations for a conference. You HAD to confirm your going or not going until two weeks before the date, because the fancyschmancyhotel would NOT hold extra rooms: they are a very popular resort, the conference would take over 1/3 of their rooms, but if it was cancelled, they would have no trouble filling those rooms in a couple days.
So, GuyX does not return any info if he is going or not. I call his secretary twice daily for a week and some, until five days before the conference when he decides he is not going. 'Good', I think, since the resort already rented the unclaimed rooms for regular guests. I confirm with the secretary that it can not be changed anymore later, fax and e-mail her a copy of the material where it says there will be no room for changing his mind later.
Three days later, secretary calls and tells me (very embarrassed) that GuyX decided he will go.
He is a federal court judge. I work for the government. My boss sucks up to to the entitled guys who think laws and regulations do not apply to them. Micro-rant: WTF is wrong with the legal body here? They judge violations of the law, but think the law, any regulations, deadlines, anything that might limit THEM in any way are just suggestions.
I spend long hours that day (overtime, unpaid, hooray) and the next cajoling the travel agents in the area. No, FancySchmancyHotel has no rooms avaiable. None, they are booked solid and the waiting line is 300+ guests long. Beg, plead, pull off hairs, no dice. I even manage to track down the organizers of the conference and beg them for help. The best we can do is to find a five-star resort some 17 kilometers away (not five-star-deluxe like FancySchmancyHotel). Since there are up to a dozen people in the same situation (changing their minds last minute) the organizers of the conference managed to wrangle a deluxe charter bus to ferry the undecided back and forth.
I write it all down, explain the situation to my boss and to his boss, show all the repeated e-mails and faxes of confirmation: GuyX decided to go LONG after the reservation deadline, best thing possible is the secondary hotel and charter bus transportation. I am backed on this by the organizers of the conference, who call and fax the same information: even this arrangement is a courtesy above and beyond anyone's duties, since the Undecided Ones could not be arsed respecting the deadline.
GuyX is informed by this by my boss, and I am there during the call, so I know what was said, the pointing out of deadlines, how many exceptions were made for him speshul snowflake entitled craptastic moron (of course that was my mental dialogue), how we bent over backwards and made several other people bend over backwards, all in professional polite businesspeak.
GuyX returns from the conference wanting MY head on a pike, because -I- "dumped" him on a "shitty" hotel and "forced" him to take a bus back and forth, and that is because I am "racist".
Yes, GuyX is black.
No, I did not knew that at all: never met him, he was for me just a name on a list, but of course... "If things dont go PERFECTLY my way, it MUST be because I am being discriminated against!" Not because he waited until well past the deadline to decide to attend the conference, even being warned repeated times about the hotel policy. No, he was 'mistreated', 'disrespected' and 'abused', because I must be a 'racist shit'. I heard him yelling at my boss' boss, who, being the fantastic guy he is, let the man yell away then went over the profusely documented actions I took. He even brought out my time cards to show I stayed past close securing him a FIVE STAR apartment.
The cherry on top of the shitsundae? GuyX did not pay a single cent for this three-day stay at the conference. He did not pay for plane tickets, nor the room, nor meals, nothing.
GuyX left still huffing and puffing, even after my Boss' Boss told him, in polite words I can't exactly recall, "I am sorry your whiny shpeshul snowflake victim-complex ASS felt hurt, but it is your own damn fault."
Get out of work at 7:15. "oh, I need to get gas." Drive towards the usual gas station.
On the way there, I realize my front left tire is quickly deflating. Okay, no problem, all gas stations here are full service, and that one is a service station AND I am a regular.
Notice how I fail to heed the signs...
Arriving there, the moment the attendants notice I have a flat they 'nonchalantly' stroll away to the far end of the station, leaving me to struggle with the tire alone. Oh, nice.
Change tire, check pressure, get back in car and head away. Will get gas another day at another place.
Have to drop by the supermarket. Arrive there 15 mins before closing, and they already moved the shopping carts into storage. I still fail to heed the signs and head in, grab what I need in 5 mins. Its a lot of stuff, it is raining and I have to carry it all to the car on my own. Again, people who are supposed to help scurry away and pretend to not see me.
Hint to them: its more believable if you do not glance my way every 10 seconds.
I juggle shopping bags and car keys, manage to not drop anything in the rain water puddles, and drive home.
Arriving home, check mailbox. Find letter from collection agency saying I owe a parcel service something equivalent to 80 dollars. Check my files, hmm... signed receipt tells me I paid in advance for the parcel service, in cash. Oh, 'joy', monday I have to call around and will end having to fax the receipt around because DHL is a bunch of lard-eating moronic fakeries of humans who can not keep their records straight.
I might have been a bit upset by then.
Shower, start cooking dinner, and turn on computer... nope, full HD crash, lots of files lost, have to buy new HD, another USD 100 expense.
Got the clue, went to bed, slept late. Had computer fixed.
Just, Meh. Not a good day at all.
Okay, when a worker goes to another city, at work, training, or congress, meeting and such-such, he receives $$$ to pay for food and hotel.
There are three levels of $$$. The highest level, a worker receives when traveling to a state capital or city with more than 200,000 people. The lowest level, is when traveling to a city with less than 200,000 people. The middle level, is when going to a city with less than 200,000, but that is a tourist-city, or some other location where bed and food are more expensive than what you would expect from a 'small' city.
I was put in charge of checking bed and food prices around the state. I checked 50-something cities, including the cities where tourists go, calculated averages, and came to the conclusion that no, there are no cities in my state that classify as 'special'. I fill the report, and send it in.
The Dumb Cow (director-general) returns it, yelling that she wants only the MAXIMUM prices. The top. The most expensive. AND she does not want me to mention that those prices are the top ones.
Yes, my friends, the Old Cow wants to make the state look more expensive than it is. Why? Your guess, mine is that she wants to grease judges and other directors, so they can stay at the most expensive places when coming here.
I did not sign it, my supervisor did.
And I am keeping copies of my original report.
I will sit back, and wait for the auditors to come after her.
Gods, she might finally have got enough rope to hang herself with.
- Is a thief;
- Is a robber;
- Is a carjacker;
- Is a murderer;
- Is a smuggler;
- Is promiscuous, having up to six different 'girlfriends', saying to all they are 'the one';
- Is a liar (see above);
Do I need to continue?
So, exposing your kids to all this is okay.
One pixelated sex scene, and the game is bad? Puh-lease... even more since its not 'real' sex, but a rubdown... the guy does not take off his clothes.
So, worried mothers and fathers... be relieved. No pixel babies are going to exist as a consequence of the pixelated sex. Its SAFE sex...