Things are not going well at the quickie mart. As you know, Manager Patel left for India, and, unbeknownst to him, I reduced our inventory to just five products. In retrospect, maybe that wasn’t a good idea. Sales have dropped dramatically, and most of our regular customers have not come back. It’s like a ghost-town in the store. Is it because I chose the wrong five items? I’m not sure.
Sometimes new customers come to the store and act surprised when they see so few items. I explain our new gimmick -- how we offer better service because we aren’t wasting our time stocking the numerous products that other convenience stores sell. People respond in disgust. They look at me like I’m crazy. It hurts my feelings. Some curse at me or call me stupid. I retort with, “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but birds will never hurt me,” and then they curse even more. A nun gave me the finger the other day! I think it was a nun. Maybe it was a woman wearing a burka. Regardless, it’s horrible. This anger apparently reflects on the overpopulation of our suburbs. Get too many people in an area and they start getting angry. Look at New Jersey!
Now I am losing sleep over the lack of business and don’t know what to do. I fear that Manager Patel will unleash the wrath of Shiva on me when he returns.
To compound my issues, some upstart kids set up tables in front of the store, selling products for cash. Cookies, I believe. Anyway, those kids did so well in their sales (I couldn’t resist buying some Thin Mints myself) that others have set up tables of wares – canned soda, crafts, shirts, and magazines – right on our store sidewalk. It’s a veritable open-air market out there. And very crowded. I like it so much that I do my Christmas shopping there are lunch time. But I think the crowds outside are hurting our business inside. I don’t think people even notice that there’s a small store here.
One afternoon, I was sleeping at the register when a friendly youngster came into the store to buy some cigarettes. When he woke me up, I told him my problem and asked him what he’d do in my shoes. He said maybe I should change my plan of selling only five products. Out of the mouths of babes! Can you believe a kid can be so stupid? No wonder he smokes cigarettes.
Anyway, I will have to figure something out. But right now, I don’t care. I am closing the store for the long weekend – Thanksgiving! This year, I was going to try baking that new recipe, a duck inside a turkey, but I don’t have to! My neighbor, Jenny, is bringing us a full turkey dinner to help us out before my surgery. I am so excited. Thanks to her, we will have a delicious meal this year and I won’t have to grocery shop or slave in the kitchen all day. She said this will help give me time to get things done before my upcoming medical procedure. What a lovely woman.
Jenny said she would have invited us to eat at her house, but she is still a little upset that my husband set her house on fire at her last party. On one hand, she's trying to help, but talk about being negative! She got to stay in a hotel for five months because of that fire, but does she thank us for that? I guess she takes out her personal issues on her neighbors. She also brought up the ceramic-birdbaths incident. For goodness sakes, it was snowing! How was my husband supposed to know he was driving through her front lawn? And then through her back lawn? Anyway, Jenny said she’s happy to bring over Thanksgiving dinner provided my husband continues to honor her restraining order. I can live with that.
At Thanksgiving, I will surely be thankful for Jenny’s generosity. She may be quirky, but she’s a great woman. I’m also grateful for my wonderful husband of 20 amazing years, my terrific children, my parents, and, of course, Manager Patel. I hope you have a happy Thanksgiving with the people you love.
Please keep me in your prayers, as I have my fibroid procedure on Monday. Thanks for reading. I’ll keep you “posted.” (Very clever, wouldn't you say?)
Jackie
<>
Nov 8, 2008
Why I Haven't Written a New Post
Ladies and gentlemen,
I have to apologize for not updating my blog. See, I work full-time at local quickie mart, and I really got wrapped up in doing a complete inventory of my store. Things got ugly. We were supposed to have 1,000 packages of Beef Jerky, but instead we counted 2,000. Plus, we were 1,000 packages short on fried pork rinds. It took me an entire month to create “Yummy Pork Rind” labels on my computer to stick on the packages of Beef Jerky. Plus, I had to buy poster board and a Sharpie marker out of my own money to make a sign that says, “All sales are final.”
Inventory is a recurring problem in the fast-paced quickie-mart world. There are so many small items that somehow disappear between the thefts from the kids who walk in and the stuff I stick in my own pockets. It’s very frustrating, especially for me since I am in charge of inventory. My manager told me he’s fed up of this problem, and if I don’t fix it by the time he returns from his one-month trip back to India, I will be fired!
Would you write a blog if you thought you’d be fired? No, I had to focus on work. To my good fortune, I’ve come up with a brilliant solution that will surely impress Mr. Patel when he comes back. I have reduced our entire inventory to just five products that are top-sellers or necessities: toilet paper, beef jerky, fried pork rinds, gum, and, of course, cigarettes (I had to do something for the children). I am sure this reorganization will please Manager Patel and surely lead to my promotion.
The other reason I haven’t written is because I haven’t been feeling so well. I’m in pain all the time. No, it’s not from 20 years of marriage. It’s worse. It’s real, physical pain. I say "real" because my psychologist said the pain I pretend to have in order to get attention doesn’t count.
The pain is due to a fibroid, a benign tumor, on my uterus. Oh, if you’re a man and feel squeamish about hearing that word (uterus), just substitute a word that’s not so offensive. How about “can of beer?” Anyway, I went to the doctor, and he said the fibroid is larger than my can of beer. In fact, it has expanded my can of beer to the size of a 12- or 14-week pregnancy. Heck, if the thing keeps growing, I’m going to name it and throw myself a baby shower! I’m preparing for the worst by registering at Babies R Us.
Anyway, forget all that. I just want this pain to be done with. The doctor said I can have a traditional hysterectomy or try some new-age procedure that is much less invasive and has been very successful in lab rats (unfortunately not so successful in non-lab rats).
Regardless, four out of five dentists recommend the non-invasive procedure, so I’m going to do it. Here’s how it works. They’re going to shoot something plastic (possibly recycled Wal-Mart bags or ammo from generic versions of Nerf guns) into the fibroid, and that will kill it slowly over the next three months. I should be back to my regular self within weeks. The fibroid will decrease in size, but the mass will remain in my body, perhaps as a memorial to what once lived there. The plastic pieces will circulate in my body until I die. Upon my death, I have asked to be thrown into a recycling bin. Now you see why this option is so attractive as compared to a boring hysterectomy. It's got . . . pizzaz! All that plastic all over the place. It's like a party in your body. Who wouldn't want to have this done?!
I certainly do! The procedure takes an hour and a half, and I’ll be in the hospital overnight, which means I’ll have control over the TV remote. I hope they have sliced pears for dessert while I'm in the hospital. I hear their sliced pears are to die for. I will settle for pear halves.
Oh, finally, did I tell you that it was my birthday last week? I turned 44. Sadly, I feel like I’m 64. People who take care of themselves, eat right, and exercise always feel younger, but I don’t do that stuff. That’s why I feel older. I did do some jogging on my birthday morning when I heard that the new Dunkin Donuts down the street was giving out free donuts to the first 20 customers. I felt like a 50-year-old as I sprinted through the front door of the store and up to the counter! It’s good to feel young again.
My family made my birthday spectacular. They are the best. They decorated the house, gave me such thoughtful presents, and made me feel special, showering me with false compliments and false praise all week! They know how to make me feel loved. My friends sent cards, called, or stopped by with gifts, which I immediately sold for cash outside the quickie mart.
Sometimes, when people start getting older and a birthday approaches, they feel depressed. They begin to ponder life, where they’ve been, how much they've accomplished in life, and what they wish they'd done. I don't do those things either. I just went out to a lovely dinner with my family and later watched TV in bed while eating a piece of German chocolate cake. Mmmm. It was a great birthday!
Your friend,
Jackie
P.S. If you are a friend and have not sent your expensive gift yet, it's not too late. I will accept presents until Thanksgiving. (After that, I will reject them.)
<>
I have to apologize for not updating my blog. See, I work full-time at local quickie mart, and I really got wrapped up in doing a complete inventory of my store. Things got ugly. We were supposed to have 1,000 packages of Beef Jerky, but instead we counted 2,000. Plus, we were 1,000 packages short on fried pork rinds. It took me an entire month to create “Yummy Pork Rind” labels on my computer to stick on the packages of Beef Jerky. Plus, I had to buy poster board and a Sharpie marker out of my own money to make a sign that says, “All sales are final.”
Inventory is a recurring problem in the fast-paced quickie-mart world. There are so many small items that somehow disappear between the thefts from the kids who walk in and the stuff I stick in my own pockets. It’s very frustrating, especially for me since I am in charge of inventory. My manager told me he’s fed up of this problem, and if I don’t fix it by the time he returns from his one-month trip back to India, I will be fired!
Would you write a blog if you thought you’d be fired? No, I had to focus on work. To my good fortune, I’ve come up with a brilliant solution that will surely impress Mr. Patel when he comes back. I have reduced our entire inventory to just five products that are top-sellers or necessities: toilet paper, beef jerky, fried pork rinds, gum, and, of course, cigarettes (I had to do something for the children). I am sure this reorganization will please Manager Patel and surely lead to my promotion.
The other reason I haven’t written is because I haven’t been feeling so well. I’m in pain all the time. No, it’s not from 20 years of marriage. It’s worse. It’s real, physical pain. I say "real" because my psychologist said the pain I pretend to have in order to get attention doesn’t count.
The pain is due to a fibroid, a benign tumor, on my uterus. Oh, if you’re a man and feel squeamish about hearing that word (uterus), just substitute a word that’s not so offensive. How about “can of beer?” Anyway, I went to the doctor, and he said the fibroid is larger than my can of beer. In fact, it has expanded my can of beer to the size of a 12- or 14-week pregnancy. Heck, if the thing keeps growing, I’m going to name it and throw myself a baby shower! I’m preparing for the worst by registering at Babies R Us.
Anyway, forget all that. I just want this pain to be done with. The doctor said I can have a traditional hysterectomy or try some new-age procedure that is much less invasive and has been very successful in lab rats (unfortunately not so successful in non-lab rats).
Regardless, four out of five dentists recommend the non-invasive procedure, so I’m going to do it. Here’s how it works. They’re going to shoot something plastic (possibly recycled Wal-Mart bags or ammo from generic versions of Nerf guns) into the fibroid, and that will kill it slowly over the next three months. I should be back to my regular self within weeks. The fibroid will decrease in size, but the mass will remain in my body, perhaps as a memorial to what once lived there. The plastic pieces will circulate in my body until I die. Upon my death, I have asked to be thrown into a recycling bin. Now you see why this option is so attractive as compared to a boring hysterectomy. It's got . . . pizzaz! All that plastic all over the place. It's like a party in your body. Who wouldn't want to have this done?!
I certainly do! The procedure takes an hour and a half, and I’ll be in the hospital overnight, which means I’ll have control over the TV remote. I hope they have sliced pears for dessert while I'm in the hospital. I hear their sliced pears are to die for. I will settle for pear halves.
Oh, finally, did I tell you that it was my birthday last week? I turned 44. Sadly, I feel like I’m 64. People who take care of themselves, eat right, and exercise always feel younger, but I don’t do that stuff. That’s why I feel older. I did do some jogging on my birthday morning when I heard that the new Dunkin Donuts down the street was giving out free donuts to the first 20 customers. I felt like a 50-year-old as I sprinted through the front door of the store and up to the counter! It’s good to feel young again.
My family made my birthday spectacular. They are the best. They decorated the house, gave me such thoughtful presents, and made me feel special, showering me with false compliments and false praise all week! They know how to make me feel loved. My friends sent cards, called, or stopped by with gifts, which I immediately sold for cash outside the quickie mart.
Sometimes, when people start getting older and a birthday approaches, they feel depressed. They begin to ponder life, where they’ve been, how much they've accomplished in life, and what they wish they'd done. I don't do those things either. I just went out to a lovely dinner with my family and later watched TV in bed while eating a piece of German chocolate cake. Mmmm. It was a great birthday!
Your friend,
Jackie
P.S. If you are a friend and have not sent your expensive gift yet, it's not too late. I will accept presents until Thanksgiving. (After that, I will reject them.)
<>
Oct 29, 2008
A Special Note To "Disappointed in Quebec"
I received this letter last night from devoted fan and reader "Disappointed in Quebec." God bless this person. I felt an immediate response was necessary since she checks my blog so frequently. See below.
Jackie,
The blackout was about as long ago as the dark ages. When are you going to post again? I have been checking your blog no less than 10 times a day and am continually disappointed. Please write something soon.
Disappointed, Quebec
Dear Disappointed in Quebec,
First, thank you for writing. I am always happy to hear from yet another satisfied fan. I looked you up on Facebook and was very impressed. You seem like a terrific person. Lots of hair, and I must say that explanation of how to keep your gums healthy was quite impressive! I couldn't stop reading. You stated in your description that you cannot read very fast, so I am typing my response slowly.
Anyway, I'm confused that you think the last post I made was about the blackout. I have actually published three different posts since that one. Don't fret, though. I have some possible solutions to help you.
First option: have you checked your Internet connection? If you have dial-up, that's probably the issue. It's much slower than cable.
Second: Have you considered that you live in a different time zone than I live in? You are in the Canadian Time Zone (CTZ), and that might explain why there is a delay in receiving the posting. If you'd like to receive the posts quicker, you might consider moving.
Third: I learned that Canada is the last time zone to be updated on the Internet, right behind Antarctica, where there is a very high Internet-saavy penguin population. I verified this information with industry leaders Bill Gates and those Google guys.
Fourth: Are you sure you're looking at the computer? Sometimes the microwave looks an awful lot like the computer. My suggestion is that you try to type in a search and see if the smell of reheated food is eminating from the "computer." If it is, I'll hazard a guess that your dinner is ready.
Please write back and tell me if you find the missing posts.
But, Disappointed, there's another issue we need to discuss. Why are you disappointed in Quebec, eh? Who could possibly be disappointed in Quebec? They have great Ice Follies shows, beautiful money, they pronounce everything with weird accents, and do you know that Quebec is also known as the Rice and Duck Capital of the World, a title claimed by Stuttgart, Arkansas, but wrongfully stolen from Quebec. (Look it up, it's true.) So, please reconsider your disdain for that great city.
Thanks again for writing, and, if all else fails, I'll bet you'll find one of the missing blogs by the weekend. Maybe Daylight Savings Time will provide an extra hour or two for your Internet to catch up. Have a great evening.
Jackie<>
Jackie,
The blackout was about as long ago as the dark ages. When are you going to post again? I have been checking your blog no less than 10 times a day and am continually disappointed. Please write something soon.
Disappointed, Quebec
Dear Disappointed in Quebec,
First, thank you for writing. I am always happy to hear from yet another satisfied fan. I looked you up on Facebook and was very impressed. You seem like a terrific person. Lots of hair, and I must say that explanation of how to keep your gums healthy was quite impressive! I couldn't stop reading. You stated in your description that you cannot read very fast, so I am typing my response slowly.
Anyway, I'm confused that you think the last post I made was about the blackout. I have actually published three different posts since that one. Don't fret, though. I have some possible solutions to help you.
First option: have you checked your Internet connection? If you have dial-up, that's probably the issue. It's much slower than cable.
Second: Have you considered that you live in a different time zone than I live in? You are in the Canadian Time Zone (CTZ), and that might explain why there is a delay in receiving the posting. If you'd like to receive the posts quicker, you might consider moving.
Third: I learned that Canada is the last time zone to be updated on the Internet, right behind Antarctica, where there is a very high Internet-saavy penguin population. I verified this information with industry leaders Bill Gates and those Google guys.
Fourth: Are you sure you're looking at the computer? Sometimes the microwave looks an awful lot like the computer. My suggestion is that you try to type in a search and see if the smell of reheated food is eminating from the "computer." If it is, I'll hazard a guess that your dinner is ready.
Please write back and tell me if you find the missing posts.
But, Disappointed, there's another issue we need to discuss. Why are you disappointed in Quebec, eh? Who could possibly be disappointed in Quebec? They have great Ice Follies shows, beautiful money, they pronounce everything with weird accents, and do you know that Quebec is also known as the Rice and Duck Capital of the World, a title claimed by Stuttgart, Arkansas, but wrongfully stolen from Quebec. (Look it up, it's true.) So, please reconsider your disdain for that great city.
Thanks again for writing, and, if all else fails, I'll bet you'll find one of the missing blogs by the weekend. Maybe Daylight Savings Time will provide an extra hour or two for your Internet to catch up. Have a great evening.
Jackie<>
Sep 21, 2008
Blackout in Mayberry
Sorry that I wasn’t able to write my blog last week. We had a giant wind storm and lost power long enough to lose the food in our fridge. Our power has obviously been restored now (or I wouldn’t be typing), but there are still thousands in the area without power, and it’s been almost a week!
When the electricity went out, we lit candles, chatted, and waited for the winds to die down. You get pensive during a storm. We talked about how fortunate we are to live in such a great neighborhood. Everyone here is kind, caring, and just so nice. They’re always helpful and these young parents are so devoted to their babies. There’s a smattering of us with older children too, and everyone gets along. I feel like we have a little utopia right here on our street.
You learn a lot about humans in the aftermath of a storm, especially when you start looting. The first thing I learned is that most of our neighbors are trusting and never lock their doors. How charming! On the east-coast, everything would be locked down, and people would have their loaded weapons pointed out the window at prospective trespassers. Too paranoid for me!
Next, I learned that people don't realize that expensive alarm systems are rendered useless without electricity. Our neighbor across the street is single, lives alone, and barely makes the bills, but she just bought an alarm system to protect her pride and joy -- a collection of French impressionist art. I know she worked hard to purchase all those valuable pieces, and I felt sad for her as my sons and I took each painting off the wall while she went out to buy an emergency radio. I told them to remember this lesson: never get attached to “stuff,” like this poor, crazy woman did. It’s funny how people get so out of perspective that they live and work for their “things.” I felt much better when we got home and hung her paintings on our living room wall. They didn’t look as good in her house.
I also learned that some people have great talents that they are afraid to share with the world. My best friend, Jenny, lives across the street and is practically a sister to me, but until we snuck into her house while she was outside helping an elderly neighbor, I never knew that she has a great talent for photography. I was ready to shut down her computer, the kind I’ve always wanted, when I noticed the most captivating pictures of her children on her screen saver. The photos were like art; she captured feelings, expressions, joy. As I carried her flat-screen monitor to my back door, I wondered if Jenny ever backed up her hard drive. I’d hate to think she’d lose all those photos because of a lack of foresight. I decided to print some out for myself before wiping out her hard drive, but my sons forgot to steal the printer. Kids! You can talk till you’re blue in the face, but they just never listen! I was still happy about my new windfall, but it hurt me to think that Jenny’s budding talent was thwarted due to a storm.
We walked through the neighborhood and got to chat with all the neighbors. When they, too, went to assist others, we were able to get all sorts of nice stuff – a Chihuahua, a sports-car, a Great Dane, some really well-behaved children (their parents should be proud), and this little grandmother who was just so adorable that we had to have her.
Now our entire neighborhood has electricity again, and things are back to normal. Yes, I have a house full of people, and I’m not sure where I’ll store all this new stuff, but we’ll get it all sorted out. That’s just the way it is after a storm -- work, work, work. I’m a little disturbed to see that the grandmother keeps drinking something out of a silver flask – not a good influence on a house full of children, but I’ll worry about it in the morning. As I go to bed and watch the blades of the Gonzales’ ceiling fan gently move the air in my bedroom, I feel a sense of peace to have such great people around me and to be blessed with so many new, material things and those sweet children, who I am now proud to call my own. With so many people in the house, Christmas is going to be very expensive, but I have faith that we will be provided for -- I heard the weatherman say we’re expecting a stormy winter.<>
When the electricity went out, we lit candles, chatted, and waited for the winds to die down. You get pensive during a storm. We talked about how fortunate we are to live in such a great neighborhood. Everyone here is kind, caring, and just so nice. They’re always helpful and these young parents are so devoted to their babies. There’s a smattering of us with older children too, and everyone gets along. I feel like we have a little utopia right here on our street.
You learn a lot about humans in the aftermath of a storm, especially when you start looting. The first thing I learned is that most of our neighbors are trusting and never lock their doors. How charming! On the east-coast, everything would be locked down, and people would have their loaded weapons pointed out the window at prospective trespassers. Too paranoid for me!
Next, I learned that people don't realize that expensive alarm systems are rendered useless without electricity. Our neighbor across the street is single, lives alone, and barely makes the bills, but she just bought an alarm system to protect her pride and joy -- a collection of French impressionist art. I know she worked hard to purchase all those valuable pieces, and I felt sad for her as my sons and I took each painting off the wall while she went out to buy an emergency radio. I told them to remember this lesson: never get attached to “stuff,” like this poor, crazy woman did. It’s funny how people get so out of perspective that they live and work for their “things.” I felt much better when we got home and hung her paintings on our living room wall. They didn’t look as good in her house.
I also learned that some people have great talents that they are afraid to share with the world. My best friend, Jenny, lives across the street and is practically a sister to me, but until we snuck into her house while she was outside helping an elderly neighbor, I never knew that she has a great talent for photography. I was ready to shut down her computer, the kind I’ve always wanted, when I noticed the most captivating pictures of her children on her screen saver. The photos were like art; she captured feelings, expressions, joy. As I carried her flat-screen monitor to my back door, I wondered if Jenny ever backed up her hard drive. I’d hate to think she’d lose all those photos because of a lack of foresight. I decided to print some out for myself before wiping out her hard drive, but my sons forgot to steal the printer. Kids! You can talk till you’re blue in the face, but they just never listen! I was still happy about my new windfall, but it hurt me to think that Jenny’s budding talent was thwarted due to a storm.
We walked through the neighborhood and got to chat with all the neighbors. When they, too, went to assist others, we were able to get all sorts of nice stuff – a Chihuahua, a sports-car, a Great Dane, some really well-behaved children (their parents should be proud), and this little grandmother who was just so adorable that we had to have her.
Now our entire neighborhood has electricity again, and things are back to normal. Yes, I have a house full of people, and I’m not sure where I’ll store all this new stuff, but we’ll get it all sorted out. That’s just the way it is after a storm -- work, work, work. I’m a little disturbed to see that the grandmother keeps drinking something out of a silver flask – not a good influence on a house full of children, but I’ll worry about it in the morning. As I go to bed and watch the blades of the Gonzales’ ceiling fan gently move the air in my bedroom, I feel a sense of peace to have such great people around me and to be blessed with so many new, material things and those sweet children, who I am now proud to call my own. With so many people in the house, Christmas is going to be very expensive, but I have faith that we will be provided for -- I heard the weatherman say we’re expecting a stormy winter.<>
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