SON OF A !!!!!!

So I got to my Incredibly Corporate Plant Nursery Job today at around 10:15. It was forty-five degrees and very, very windy.
My buddy L was already there. She was watering outside, and she did not look happy.

A quick explanation: My job is inside a Big Stupid Box Store, but I do not work for the Big Stupid Box Store. I work for the Incredibly Corporate Nursery that supplies the Big Stupid Box Store. So I don't answer to the folks at the Big Stupid Box Store, per se. But I do try to be helpful. Especially since my buddy L is working for them, and I took over her job, and she is very, very helpful to me (and I am very, very grateful to her. Plus she's super cool.)

Okay, so the deal is, Middle Management Jim, the very lazy guy who works above L at the Big Stupid Box Store, is in a bit of a panic, because apparently there is an impending visit from a Big Corporate Cheese, and he wants everything in his department to look perfect. In his mind, this meant watering. Even though we are in the middle of a drought, and it rained cats and fucking dogs the night before last, and even though I had already watered the plants that don't get rain just yesterday, and even though L had gone to the trouble to check all of the trees and shrubs in the area that had gotten so much rain thirty six hours prior, and found that they were, in fact, quite damp (well no shit), Middle Management Jim wanted the area to look "just watered." I suspect that Middle Management Jim is the kind of guy who got to middle management by timing his cigarette breaks just so, thereby avoiding any heavy lifting but getting back in time to be seen "finishing up" when the Big Guys get there. Ah, Corporate America.

Something that I have yet to mention previously (So little time! So little blogging!) is that despite having every possible tool available to us, not to mention at least one person on staff at the Big Stupid Box Store who can fix virtually anything, virtually every single hose and connector that we use in the nursery leaks. Horribly. Even the big watering can on wheels (affectionately known as "the egg") that we use indoors. The result is that whatever or wherever you are watering, water leaks down your arm, all over your pants, and most definitely onto and into your shoes.

The first day I met Middle Management Jim, I mentioned that I thought it was sending a bad message when we asked customers not to flush their toilets because of the drought and they could plainly see me leaking water all over the floor in the middle of the store. He kind of laughed and moved on to whatever he was doing, which I would assume (having worked there a full six days now) was either taking a smoke break or telling somebody else to do something that he should be doing himself.

So today, as I headed to the back of the outdoor nursery and plugged in the hose nearest the trees and shrubs, I was completely unsurprised to find that the fitting was leaking like mad when I turned it on. I stood there cursing loudly, the water spraying both my face and my shoes, and tightened everything I could find to tighten around the fitting, to no avail. Finally, I stacked several plastic containers of fertilizer on the table in front of the hose, blocking the spray so as to avoid soaking any customers, and went on about watering. After about twenty minutes, another employee of Big Stupid Box Store walked out several paces in front of Middle Management Jim, and remarked

"Wow. look at all that water being wasted!"

I smirked at him and answered, "Welcome to the home improvement store!"

MMJ arrived just then, made an exasperated sound, and immediately shut off the water. He began unscrewing the hose and examining the inside of the fitting. The other guy asked me where it was leaking.
"Is it the brass fitting or the plastic thing?"

"The fitting is fine. The leak is coming from under the plastic thing. And I already tried to tighten all of it, so don't bother." I was saying this for the benefit of MMJ, who ignored me and continued to do exactly what I had already done. He turned the water back on, this time with his face very near the hose. The result was exactly what you would expect, and MMJ cussed under his breath as he shut the water off, removed his glasses, and tried to dry them.

"Do you need this thing now? Or can you do something else while I fix it?" asked MMJ, acknowledging me for the first time.

"Well, I already watered all the back tables. You're the one on the schedule, so you tell me. How quickly do you need all of this done?"

I went off to do my actual job, which is not pointless and which I actually mostly enjoy. MMJ walked past me about fifteen minutes later.
"Incidentally," I said, as casually as I could, "I need to water inside today, and The Egg leaks very badly. I don't know how much you care, or when the Big Cheese is supposed to land, but if they walk through and I'm standing there in a huge puddle of water it probably won't look good."

"That's leaking too?" MMJ said, as if hearing this news for the first time.
"Well, I'll have to see if I can get this other one fixed first. It might not be today."

I never did get the go ahead to finish the unnecessary watering, but I did manage to water inside (water wasted: about five gallons) and do the rest of my job.

I also went to the accountant today. Doing my taxes used to be right in line behind going to the dentist on my Things I like To Do In My Spare Time list, but my accountant is hilarious. Just hearing him talk is worth the price of admission, but since he also leads me through the seven circles of IRS hell with nary a scratch (mental, anyway- the financial scars never quite heal) I consider it quite a bargain. The short of it is that we owe the State of Georgia several hundred dollars. Fuuuuuck. Luckily we have until April fifteenth to find that money somewhere.

I left the accountant and went back to work for an hour and a half. No sign of MMJ or any Big Cheeses. Sweet. I passed the rest of my day peacefully, then clocked out and went to pick up the b.h. from his New Day Job (not an actual "day job", but rather a service industry job that takes place in the a.m.).

We went downtown. He was going to band practice, and when he tried to call one of his band mates on the cell phone, he realized that the memory had been erased. All. Of our. Collective. Phone numbers. Gone. Fuuuuuck.

We stopped at the cell phone store. They were not terribly helpful. I dropped the b.h. off at a bar to meet his band mates. I rushed home to see if I had a paycheck. I did. Sweet. I ran down the road to the liquor store (never let it be said that my priorities are not in order), got a six pack of Dale's Pale Ale (my new favorite- it's in a can!! Holy good beer in a recyclable container Batman!!) at the Five Points Bottle Shop, ducked over to my bank to deposit said check, and stopped for gas (the second time in two days. Fuuuuuck.)

At the gas station, I got out of the car, donning my very warm hat and bracing myself against the wind. A guy got out of his car and said very loudly and very cheerily
"Hey girl!! I like that hat!! You're rockin! You look like a bunny rabbit!!"

He was large and bemulleted, wearing Rustler Jeans and very puffy, very white gym shoes. His mustache was nothing short of remarkable.
I thanked him and smiled and pulled my hat lower while I jammed my bank card into the gas pump. It wouldn't work. see cashier for assistance.

I looked up at the store. It was busy. The weird guy was in line, talking animatedly with everyone around him. I did not have enough gas to get to the next gas station. I pondered whether I cared.

Eventually I went in. The weird guy leapt over two other customers in order to open the door for me. He greeted me again. He remarked on my hat again, though exactly what he said now escapes me. He went outside while I was paying. As I left the store, he was engaged in yet another very animated conversation with yet another defenseless stranger. I opened the door for myself, and he commenced to cussing the other guy out for getting in the way while he was trying to open it for me. I went to my car. I pumped my gas. The weird guy came up to me and said that we could be twins, on account of our cars were both the same color, even though his had a spoiler. I nodded and smiled weakly at him. The gas continued to pump into my car at a glacial pace. I was silently thankful that I could not afford a full tank today.

"Are you married?"

"Yes sir!" I answered, thanking the gods yet again for the b.h.

"Aw okay, I don't mean any harm Here's my card, in case you know anybody needs a website or anything. I build computer systems, websites, do repair- basically anything you can do with a computer."

"Cool. Thanks!" I reached out and took from him a small, poorly copied, unevenly cut square of copy paper, with an unidentifiable logo in the corner and a list of services that the company provides. And then handwritten (obviously he forgot this part before he set the font, and why ever would that matter?) on the top was the name of the company.
I got in the car and carefully put it in the notebook I keep in my back pocket for just such an occasion. Sometimes weird people really make my day.