Jim Morrison was wrong and I need to just stay in the house...

People aren't strange.
People are STUPID.

That's capital "STU" and capital "PID".

At least now I know who it is that teaches people around here how to "drive".

It's that retarded bitch at the Post Office.

Sweet Baby Jesus... I wanted to just smack her rapidly and repeatedly across the face for about an hour.

Gawd.

It's my fault. I know it. I went outta the house... no, I fucked around with cash and made myself have to get the insurance payment off and postmarked by Monday. I just wanted to be "safe" and have it done by today.
Ya know?

So, I go to the Post Office with the cash and the envelope and shit and first off, I got there 20 minutes before they close. I go in, get in line, am next, then realize that all I had on me was the exact amount of the money order and not even enough change in my pockets or console to pay for the stupid money order.
So, I roll my eyes at me and growl and race home. I radio-ed Eric to grab some cash and just meet me in the driveway.

I get there, he's there, I make a circle around him, he throws the cash in the car and off I go again.
Much like a "keyhole race" or, coincidentally, the "post office race", both of which are on horseback. Ya run up, spin and race back, more or less. Only difference between the two is in the keyhole race, there's a "keyhole" shape on the ground in lime. Ya hafta run into it, spin and run back without messing up the lines. In the other, you have to grab a mailbag off the ground and run back. It's fuckin' AWESOME when ya don't have to actually dismount to get the bag, too. I won doing that. I ran up, bent waaaay down, grabbed the bag, spun Diablo and raced back. Won by, like... 7 or 8 seconds, too. God, were those preppy bitches with the huge Quarter Horses pissed... *lmao*

Anyway... I get the cash, race back, make it and get to a window.
The instant I get to said window, the retarded clerk has to go help the equally retarded clerk at the next window.

This stretches into a several minute operation, duirng which time I am getting more and more annoyed. (Hadda go to the bathroom, damn it.)

Finally, the moron-atron comes back and I say, and I quote: "I need a money order for three hundred thirty dollars. Here it is... (I slid a WAD of cash to her) I've counted it about sixty times, so I'm not doin' it again."

To which she replies... "Okay. A money order for three hundred sixty..."

"NO. Three hundred thirty. Sixty is the number of times I've counted it."

"Ohhh..." ("Duuuhhh...")

So, off she goes.
For six minutes!!!!, counting this shit.
My fuckin' parrot would be more adept at handling cash.
And, I thought that one kid, Christian, was stupid at the grocery store... (He's just as fumble fingered and s-l-o-w as this one, but still not quite as bad. HE only counts the shit ONCE, thank Christ.)

ANYway... she counts it three fuckin' times. At the rate of one bill every three seconds, mind you. My bad that 150 of it was ones.
(I know I oughta cash in but, honestly, just looking at a wad of cash like that is still too much fun for me.)

After she counts it the third time, she says... "One dollar short."

I stabbed with my fingernail the one one that was laying there, on the mat, all by itself for all the fuckin' world to see and slid it to her saying, "Three hundred THIRTY."

"Oh, that for money order..."

"No, it's NOT. THIS (waving around two additional ones) is for the money order. THAT is three hundred THIRTY."

"oh."

(Trying to smile) I say, "It's really important that this thing be postmarked today, so I'm just gonna whip through the money order and hand it right back to ya, okay? I've got the envelope done already..."

"Okay."

Then, the money order prints out and dipshit proceeds to put the money away before she hands me the fuckin' thing so I can fill it out.

GGGRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!
GOD, give me strength...

Finally, she gets it and hands it to me, I fill it out in under 30 seconds, whip the shit into the envelope, almost give myself a papercut lickin' it and slappin' it shut and I watched her postmark it. Had to make sure it was the right stamp... *rolls eyes*

I get home and go to pee. There's this stupid cup that matches the toothbrush holder, that sits on the lid of the toilet tank. We keep pens and miscellaneous pocketshit in it, mostly. Lately, it keeps falling over and dumping two tons of shit into the trashcan. "I don't wanna throw this shit away, or I'd do it myself, dick", I've said about forty times in the last week TO the cup as I set it up and pick all the shit back outta the trash.

As you can imagine, this is getting old, right?

Well.
I get back from hell... I mean the Post Office and guess what?
Mr. Lazyassed cup is layin' down on the job again.
So...
I terminated his ass with extreme prejudice and my size 7 steeltoed boot.

Fuck you cup, who may just have been the victim of misdirected anger. Ya did piss me off too, but, truth be known, it was that chick's FACE I really wanted to stomp.

Sorry.
(Yeah, about as sorry as Bluto after he smashes the folkies guitar... *giggle*)

Anyhoo... I'm stayin' in the house now.
In fact, I'm gonna go back to what I was doing, which coincidentally, is what made me leave for the Post Office so late in the first place... goin' through my download mgr., finding cute dudes to post.

There's one more I know is in there. And, I even think I was told to go ahead and post it if I want to...
We'll see...
*grin*

It's a good one.
Ooohhh... I just remembered another one I wish I was allowed to post. Gawd, this guy is adorable... Well, they both are, but... you know what I mean.

One I think I can (if I can gather the cajones, in case I'm wrong about it being okay), the other I know I'm not allowed. *pout*

Oh well... back to it.

Posted by: Stevie at 12:14 PM

Comments

Posted by: Terry Reynolds at April 24, 2005 12:37 AM (OPRCz)

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