no, this is not an anal sex bit…
…although we’re just getting started, and i’ve side barred to weirder places.
no, this is about a day i had to have three asshole conversations. i’m not a fan of these, but i do them well. they’re conversations where i have to, as samuel l jackson said in pulp fiction, “get into character”, and that character is more than a bit of a prick. i’m not his biggest fan.
but he’s effective.
what’s fun is this bit started with quite literally three different conversations i thought i’d have to have, in person, and let me inner asshole come out to accomplish shit. it happens. it doesn’t happen often, but it happens. but two of the three took place over the phone, and for a peak behind the curtain, this all kicked off about ten days ago. so here’s the round one break down:
one little asshole conversation –
reason: the seven to ten days i was supposed to wait for my prescription sunglasses is now in day fifteen.
result: i called and was told “they were still at the lab” and that the expected return date was september 14th, and i was talking to them on the sixteenth. they said they’d call to see what was going on. we’ll see where that takes us.
update two fucking weeks later – i have one of the pairs, the other is still “at the lab”, and the pair i do have they forgot to return the oakley factory lenses to me which dramatically depletes the resale value after i’m done with them, so they’re gonna have to cut me a check on that. and in theory i get the other glasses on thursday.
two little asshole conversation –
reason: we are $1,300 into a $2K tile project and it all might have to be ripped back out for plumbing reasons, which they claim to check before starting
result: i ended up slowly and methodically and by hand (versus the drill powered drum auger i used the day before) digging all the dirt out of the drain. i realized after the fact i had done the dirt drop via years of emptying out mop buckets down that drain. what i didn’t realize is there was what appears to be a dog bone wedged a foot down the pipe right as the shower bends into the main drain. shit, it gave me an excuse to buy thirteen inch pliers:
but i got it out, and got all cleared from there. i called the tile guy to push off part two of the project another week (anticipating that the plumber couldn’t come till monday and unsure if he could even get it) but all went well so no asshole follow up call needed for the tile guy, which is a good thing…i like larry.
three little asshole conversation –
reason: my boss was shorted three shirts by my shirt folks
result: this one i did in person between the other two, and it, too, had mixed results. we were trying to just get three more shirts made on some supreme hanes blanks he provided, but apparently it’s more complicated than that and the owner thought he’d already been refunded, which could be the case as all statements go to the bookkeeper (i.e. his folks) so this one also needs to play out.
update two fucking weeks later – still no shirts, but supposedly wednesday. supposedly communism works – ask castro how that shit went for him!