You’ll never look at fastfood the same and you thought the movie "Waiting" was bad.
At the moment I work at Long John Silver’s / A&W. I am displeased there; some may even say I hate it there. For the time being I put up with it because I tell myself only one month and then to UPS (Where I am currently employed but I won’t be scheduled to work for another 30 to 90 days.) Since working there at LJS/A&W I have seen some questionable activities, ones in which the FDA and DEA might have issues with. If you have a weak stomach or hold personal views against drug usage, don’t even bother reading any further.
So let us start with the FDA related matters. I would advise not ever eating the corn, this should help you understand why: toilets get clogged so does the machine that cooks the corn. I bore witness to an employee with an itchy nose sneeze on a hamburger bun, paused for a moment while he though "Hmm should I start over or continue to use this bun…this bun it is." The manager spilled twenty hamburger patties on the ground and in order to save on food cost she got one of the larger (in size) employees to act as a shield from the camera as she gathered them back up and later served. Coleslaw has been mixed bare hand and those haven’t necessarily seen soap previous to the mix, this also applies to the hush puppies. On occasion the batter is mixed in a container that also was host to mop water (This is later explained why that is an issue.) "Floor spice makes everything nice" is a recent phrase that tells of a long held belief and practice. I have only seen one other employee other than my self properly wash dishes with a sanitizer. Some employees drench hamburger patties with the fat and oil that drips off of them when they are cooked. But my all time favorite has to be when I first started working at LJS; I picked up one of the bags of Fries from the top. Unknown to me at the time, a great percent of the bags are ripped during the packaging process; the bag broke open from the bottom and the contents hit the grease laden floor; I paused unsure of what to do or say; I paused too long apparently, one of the other employee witnessed this and ran to the back to grab a dust pan; I thought "Oh how nice now I don’t have to pick it up" but then I noticed a devilish grin on his face; I continued to watch him as he shoveled the fries into the dust pan that earlier I used to rid the parking lot of trash; puzzled I was until he started going for one of the baskets when it dawned on me, "That sick twisted bastard is going to cook and serve those fries." After that moment I never could eat at a fast food restaurant without reflecting on that moment.
Now for the DEA offenses: We have a dealer that works at the store, uses the company phone to set up transactions. Meth has been consumed on property, as has marijuana (pounds of it.) I was asked to hold on to one pound because this person didn’t have a secure location to put it in such as a car, "Umm no that’s a felony." I must say a pound of weed is a lot of weed. One day it was low volume sales, so three of the employees took it upon themselves to smoke out and then clean out there bowls. The art of rolling a blunt and roach are free of admission all that is asked is you don’t mention the source of knowledge. What I find most humorous is if someone were to call in to the area manager and request that a drug test be done to the entire population of employees including management all but three would fail out of twenty or so.Miscellaneous: One of the employees has slept with every female employee that has ever worked there (With the exception of three, one is the manager and married, one had a boyfriend that would of killed him, and the last one is repulsive in appearance) and because of this management hasn’t hired a female employee in six months. Three liters of napalm have been on location and later was the cause of the dumper catching fire. The assistant manager’s life was threatened by an unstable employee at knife point/edge. There was a situation that arose where a fight broke out at the store and ended with twelve cop cars and a saw off shotgun was in play.
So what have we learned from this post? One we don’t eat fast food not only is it not good for you, it really is not good for you and two if you ever find yourself in need of drugs and don’t know where to go, any convenient fast food restaurant should have at least one dealer on staff waiting to fulfill your illegal prescription.
A non acidic trip.
Last week was stressful (Life still is.) But it became less stressful because Kyle drove me to Houston and the following events occurred. In Houston we visited my almost 93 year old Great Grandmother Malott. Who, by the way still goes to the gym every Saturday. When I was approximately a year old she used money from my Great Grandfather Malott’s salary from Continental Oil Company to put into a bond. This bond matured when I turned eighteen years of age. The money this bond generated was intended to be used for whatever cost I may incur during my higher education process, so my Great Grandparents wanted. My Grandfather Preston, on the other hand had other thoughts he was grated access and control over the bond as my grandmother didn’t want to deal it. My brother was born after these bonds were created, much later. My great grandmother didn’t create a bond for him because it was after my Great Grandfather had stopped working at Continental Oil, ergo less money available for investments. Back to my Grandfather Preston, he decided that part of my bond was going to my brother’s education. I suppose that I don’t have too much of a problem with it but I think my sister’s bond would be a more appropriate source, as she has no plans in life and probably is going to be pregnant by the age of twenty one if not sooner. I personally don’t know the amount of money in the bond but my Great Grandmother does (I think). She called up my Grandfather Preston within minutes and told him: "Hello Preston, Jason is here and has told me his recent situation and has told me your views on the purpose on the bond. As he is the only one in college right now the focus should be on him, I want you to give him whatever money he needs to be successful in school. This is a serious matter. I’m going to let you talk to him now…" Kyle was in the room his mouth sort of dropped about ten feet. He later told me that ‘Damn your matriarchal 93 year old grandmother just bitched out your grandfather’ in a sort of stunned way. I responded, "I know" stoically. After I was done talking to my Grandfather, I got off the phone told my Great Grandmother everything was alright and he was going to write the checks. She needed to eat so I suggested going out. Of course to make it difficult: I am indecisive and she doesn’t like to inconvenience others and Kyle was ‘going with the flow’ we collectively didn’t know where we wanted to go. My great grandmother started calling up her friends and family to see if someone wanted to go out that night for dinner. After about ten phone calls we found someone, a neighbor for a four floors up, Susan. She is a first generation Asian American and it shows, she is in her late fifty / early forties. She has known me since my birth pretty much. She said she would be down in a minute. Kyle and I were waiting for my great grandmother to get ready and for Susan to come down from her 10th story four-bedroom condo. A knock on the door, an attempt to get in but the door was lock. The door being locked is unusual, Kyle had locked the door out of habit of locking doors. I could tell immediately from her coming into our condo she was in a negative mood. Which as some of you know, an angry Asian woman is actually less favorable than death. After a few moments of semi-uncomfortable small talk about school and her son’s education at Princeton University, my Great Grandmother walked from the back room ready to go. We went down to the garage with charge of driving left to me; to drive the boat of my Great Grandmother’s G45 Infinite flagship sedan. In the car we went, as we all got situated in the car, Susan (in the passenger seat) sharply turns her head towards me and say "Where are we going?" My first immediate response would of been "I don’t know." but given her state I looked to my great grandmother and said "Yes, where are we going?" As she was the truly hungry one in the car. We decided on an Italian restaurant just down the street. Even for a Saturday we didn’t have to wait for a seat but the noise level was at about 80 decibels. This makes it difficult for someone from my family, as we speak softly and I mumble. For the majority of the dinner I spoke with my grandmother while Kyle and Susan spoke to each other. Not much to say about dinner, it was good. Kyle was so full that he was repulsed by food several hours later. On the way back to Arlington Kyle averaged 93MPH in his brick yard maroon, better known as purple, Nissan 350Z. There was even a stretch of road that was perfectly straight to the eye where he was doing 100MPH and let go of the wheel. He was testing his alignment but still the concept of traveling at 100MPH and not actually having immediate control of the machine producing the effect is mildly frightening. We continued exceeding the speed limit even after passing at least nineteen officers of the law, well until we were on the verge of Dallas and we passed two particularly bored harassment officers, in Camaros no less. We stopped within 1/4 mile from where we passed them. I think because of that the officers were brief in questions they asked. I was expecting more questions and harassment. But after about five minutes in the cold (from the windows being down) and the sound of speeding cars passing by the officer returned to us with a citation in hand. We went down the road a couple of miles then we hit traffic, keep in mind it is 1AM, there is a standstill on 360. Kyle took this time to text message his mother and inform her of his recent traffic violation. After the threat of illegal repossession of his car they discussed the expungation of the citation. That concludes the weekend.
Quote of the day:
"Life: for a limited time only" ~ Me
Clarifications of “My current ‘?motion’” and more disclosure.
Be sure to read “My current ‘?motion’” if you would like for this post to have context.My mother did not consult me for the purchase of the new house. Questions have arrived on why she didn’t purchase a room for me. I believe it was in part due to her wanting me to move out and in part to lack of availability of 5/6 bedroom houses on the market. My other three siblings are permitted to continue to reside in her house. One of which is of legal age and causes tremendous grief to my mother. My mother probably thinks that I am capable of moving out now and supporting myself. Given the choice I would reside with my mother or at least her funding for a year or two more. I see me being kicked out now as crippling, its looks as if I am going to have to cut my hours at school even more, work more hours to support my newly pressed upon expenses. There is possibility of me simply quitting school (at least until the point in life where I reevaluate my life and where it is going (or not going)) given the stress and my own disbelief in the institution called education. Or at least my belief that not all fortune needs to be achieved through a single sheet of paper stating that the bearer went to school for X years with the capacity to do busy work. I honestly don’t have a plan that sits well with me. I have what I would consider back up plans. If I was so young, didn’t care about my absolute well-being, Kyle Lee, and/or recent social ties formed from GLEE I would close my bank accounts, dispose of my belongings, fake my death after purchasing a $50,000 car on my American Express card, cancel my credit cards, then move to Mexico; where I would live the remainder of my life in a state of relation not even a ’420′ amount of marijuana could put me in.
My current ‘?motion’.
Be advised I am venting, informing, explaining, and generally bitching in a negative fashion, proceed with caution.Some of you may have noticed I have hermitted myself from most social contact including the company of my boyfriend, this is certainly not by design; this is more of a product of coping with certain events that have occurred and that will soon occur. If you don’t already know, my mother has purchased a house recently. This new house they have purchased does not have a room for me or even the capacity of expansion. Of course I wasn’t notified in advanced. In fact, finalization of the contract for the new house was in order before I was in-depthly informed about her plan. I suppose it is a good thing my mother is not expedient in certain plans. That is not to say she didn’t purchase the house quickly or she doesn’t marry and divorce just as quick, or that she handles some aspects of life where I personally would move at a more dilatory / cautious pace; it is to say that because she is selling the house, the house I am still residing in, is going to be a process that will outlast god himself (or May whichever occurs first). The process has begun but its completion is no where near; the yard needs some tending to, the garage is in a condition best described as looking similar to post-battle war zone, the carpet needs treatment from a professional cleaning firm, every room needs a coat of paint, at least four holes in dry wall need to be patched, the HVAC system needs a overhaul, these of course aren’t the entirety of the problems faced but are just a small portion which my mother has deemed me partially responsible for taking care of. By partially I mean great majority of as she and Patricia are overwhelmed in having in their possession three properties, much less dealing with getting at least one of them off their hands. I am not only expected to take care of these ‘choirs’ but also to have 90% of my belonging relocated to any destination that isn?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Äû¬¢t that house by March. My mother has also blessed me with another high expense, one in which is quite high for my demographic; being a white male, under the age of 25, unmarried, and having offenses on my record.Recently through semi-conscious thoughts in the shower (the sources of many realization), have I discovered why the house is being rid. It may seem apparent to most but anger does cloud ones’ logic. The house we have lived in for almost eight years now, was occupied in concurrences by a person no longer in our immediate lives; or put differently my mother and stepfather divorced. This doesn’t explain why the new house doesn’t have a room for me, and yes I have considered the possibilities but that doesn’t change the fact that I have been, as Kyle has put ‘dis-invited from your mother’s house.’ I suppose part of me is enraged but the logical part, the part that rules and controls 97% or my life says, it is the most economical, perhaps the best given the situation and ultimately says your actions will not cause change in her particular action/decision presented here. And though this logical part is 97% of me it has been recently suppressed or at least not the dominating control. Lately I have been emotionally strung out, my mood changes from barely controlled violent anger to uncontrolled sobbing. That is a part of me that I desperately try to escape and/or avoid. My biological father was of that nature (a majority of the time), and though I was young when I did know interact with him, I remember thinking to myself ‘What a pity he can not control his emotions, even for someone who should be disciplined being in the Army as he is.’ This emotional state I am in is unfavorable. In typing this post alone, I have shifted from anger, tears, mellow, distrusted, lonely, annoyance, and back to angered violent thoughts. This state I am in, could be interpreted as, the results of years of trying not resemble my father in his emotional roller coaster tendencies and the coupling of recent spike in stress to produce an even worst situation than it is.I suppose I would like it all to end. The stress with my mother, moving, working more, seeing Kyle less, (not being able to read his mood), uncontrolled emotion, financial obligations. I guess this sounds like suicide but not to worry I have enough attachment to my life not to, or to live this far and die before any real satisfaction in life would be a waste. Of course likes and actualalities run parallel.