The rantings, ravings and musings of a now mid-forties american male. Sex, violence, rock-n-roll. Also, emotions and all that other mushy crap.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
I'm late to my own birthday.
Well, I was there, but I wasn't here. Make any sense?
You wouldn't have wanted me here yesterday, anyways. I was not in a good mood. I am never a fan of birthdays. I have had exactly one good one that I can remember in my 39 years walking this planet. February 22 is rarely a good day for me.
And that one, was last year.
Seeing as how the previous 37 sucked, and last year was good, it made me reflect on my life since last year. See where this is going? Or more accurately, swirling down the bowl?
I don't know if I blogged about this last year or not. And frankly, I'm too lazy to check.
I'll give you the Cliff's Notes version.
Last year I was working at the bike shop. I had just gone full time there, just had been made a department manager. I was working on my birthday, a Tuesday, I believe. Things at the shop were in flux. The management company that hired me, and all the other managers wasn't happy with the way the store was being run. Mostly, they weren't happy with the General Manager. The consultant that was at our store started hinting that she wanted to replace him. And she was interested in making me the new G.M. Needless to say, I was interested. I wasn't trying to stab the G.M. in the back, but if they wanted to get rid of him, I'd be interested in taking his place. Well, I was meeting with this woman at lunch for like two hours. The whole time, my cell phone was, as the youngins say, blowing up. The office, the S.O., people from work, etc. I didn't want to answer seeing as what we were discussing was pretty important. So when I finally get back, everyone is freaking out. I'm thinking everyone knows something is up. The GM finds me and says to go up to the service bay, there is someone up there waiting for me. I have no clue what is going on. I get up there and all the techs, and half the sales staff is up there. In the middle of them is a little asianhottie in a small skirt. She comes up to me and says something like, you're late, blah, blah, blah. Then I hear music. She starts to dance. Yes, she's a stripper. And who sent her? The S.O. She cleared it with the GM and sent a stripper to work. I'm freaking out a bit. I don't want the consultant lady thinking I'm irresponsible and this is how I operate, but fuck, it's a stripper sent by the S.O.!! Turns out the consultant lady thought it was hilarious and it was no big deal. It was a good day.
If you don't already know, in the end, everything blew up.
On the day I was to be named GM, the owner of the shop sold the place, fired the consultants and I was just fucking disappointed and as miserable as a human could be. It was as horrible a feeling as I've ever felt. The new owner, a raging coke addict and part time dealer, eventually let everyone who worked there when he bought the place go. Including me this past fall.
So that is where I am this year. My birthday this year? It snowed. There was sleet. I still haven't found a good job. No stripper. Fuck, no cake or presents either. The S.O. barely tolerates my existence at this point. Oh, I did have lunch at Bob Evans, that's something. Some friends from the bike shop wanted to take me out, but with the shitty weather, everyone canceled. Woe is me. I'm throwing my own birthday pity party. I know, I'm lame.
