Whoever appeals to the law against his fellow man is either a fool or a coward. Whoever cannot take care of himself without that law is both. For a wounded man shall say to his assailant, "If I live, I will kill you. If I die, you are forgiven." Such is the rule of honor.
If you don't already know what this is from, click here and enjoy:
http://youtu.be/vJu7fhdVMb8
If you do know, click it and enjoy it anyway :)
.... word of WARNING, though: If you are at school or work and you're not supposed to be surfing the internet, you may want to make sure the volume is down. Otherwise, BLAST IT
A few years ago I was bassist in two (count 'em, TWO!) metal bands.
Granted, they were more or less the same band minus our vocalist (due to marriage) and one guitarist (he "wasn't contributing"). We found a replacement vocalist and added a few guitar players and, thus, a new band was born.
Being in these bands was without a doubt one of the coolest experiences I've ever had and gave me the opportunity to do crazy, incredible things and meet absolutely awesome people.
Last night I got out my bass and played a while and all sorts of memories came flooding back to me. I thought about it off and on all day today and I wanted to share the memories and lessons with you guys!
Yes, they're mostly for fun but every lesson rings true to me.
If the cops show up, you're playing just loud enough.
Over the years and countless practices, we had the cops called on us many, many times. This varied on our moods, where we were, what time it was, and if we had our vocalist rehearsing. For whatever reason, the irate neighbors seemed to specifically dislike our screaming vocals. We met many members of the Raton Police Department and the kind of reactions we got from them varied. Many were irritated, broke up the practice immediately and left us with threats and warnings. A few actually listened to us play for a couple minutes, asked us friendly questions and left us with the request that we keep it down. It probably goes without saying that the latter kind made a better impression but, to be honest, either way we waited for them to leave, then went right on playing where we left off.
The best instrument is the one in your hands.
We all lusted after the expensive, kick-ass, brand name, musician-endorsed instruments, absolutely! Alexi Laiho's electric guitars were always much admired and I personally had my eyes on Tom Araya's ESP basses. But nothing can beat the actual bass or drum set or guitar you have your hands on, one that you have and can play and love and have all sorts of memories associated with. I think your first instrument is kinda like your first love: you spend all this time with it and thinking about it and even if and when you grow out of it, I think you'll always remember it.
Good friends share memories. Good band mates share amps.
And I was lucky enough to have both! Years later, a lot of us have grown apart but I still value the memories really highly and I think some bonds will never be totally broken. I especially treasure the memories I have of Johnny Ray. If not for the band, I might never have known him well and I would have really missed out.
To be honest, yes, image is part of it.
We all wore a lot of black band T-shirts, several of the guys had pretty long hair, I always had my hair dyed crazy colors and for about a year I wore only bondage pants.
I always felt pretty honored that they all let me be in the band, because metal is pretty heavily male-dominated. I wasn't the best bass player around but they were always really patient with me and helped me learn a lot.
Good metal lyrics are deep and have fancy words. And profanity.
I remember taking a stab at writing lyrics. I came up with what I thought was a pretty good song and called one of the guys in the band and read it to him. He was quiet for a moment, and seemed to be searching for a nice way to put his opinion. He finally said, "It's, um, good, but, uh, it sounds more like an... uhh.. Evanescence song or something." I probably don't have to tell you this was not a good thing for a hard-core metal band.
We did have a good lyric writer in our band. He came up with these deep, meaningful lyrics with lots of advanced, complicated words. To be honest, I read them, complimented him, then went home and looked up half the words in the dictionary.
As for the profanity, fuck yeah! No shit! Why the hell wouldn't you put fucking profanity in every goddamn syllable? It emphasizes your every fucking point, bitch!
Hahaha, no but seriously. Profanity does give a desirable sort of edge.
The sign of a good musician is one who can play his instrument and headbang at the same time.
I still feel this is true. To be honest with you, I can play, and I can headbang, but not that well at the same time. It was a talent that I aspired to, but lacked. Once we were playing a show and I was head banging like crazy and I almost fell over. Luckily only one or two people saw but it was still really embarrassing.
You kinda have to have at least one or two bands you idolize.
At the time for me, these bands were Children of Bodom and Lamb of God. I sometimes read interviews with musicians and they'll talk about the albums that changed their life. I'm not a professional musician but at this time in my life two albums totally changed everything: Children of Bodom's "Hate Crew Deathroll" and Lamb of God's "Ashes of the Wake." I had these two CDs and basically lived and breathed them. I went to sleep at night with my headphones on listening to them. Every practice we'd warm up by playing the first five tracks off "Ashes of the Wake" in order. I knew every lyric and every guitar riff. I talked with my friends and bandmates about all the musicians by name and knew all their biographies. I argued with with other COB freak in my band about who could copy the band's font better.
This actually turned into a bit of controversy in the 8th grade. The aforementioned other COB freak and myself were so obsessed that we wrote "COBHC" (Children of Bodom Hate Crew") on everything: our binders, our lockers, our skin. Somehow a bunch of other kids picked it up without even knowing what it meant or stood for and for a while "COBHC" was found on EVERYTHING. Graffiti everywhere! Desks, doors, floors, marker boards, walls.
Ooops.
Johnny Ray was always in love with Pantera and to be honest, it was one thing that made his death a little easier: I have no doubt he jams with Dime now.
Behind every good metal musician is a good support system.
This was especially true at the time because we were all pretty young and had to depend on parents and older siblings to drive us around, to have places to practice, to listen to us play, etc. Also, I think behind just about every musician is a parent who is a bit of a rocker themselves.
Awesome band names are nearly impossible to come by.
The first band I was in was called "Asunder", then transformed to "Dead End Philosophy". After I left, they became "Ascending Darkness". I don't know for sure that any of these names were absolutely stellar but they served their purpose. I remember sometimes we'd be out somewhere and someone would ask what our band name was and we'd all get kinda quiet and look at each other, waiting for someone else to say it.
You don't play in a metal band because you should. You play in one because you need to.
The guys I played with lived and breathed music. It wasn't a hobby, it was a way of life. And to turn a passion into a lifestyle? I think everyone can learn from that.
COBHC, bitch!
haha
Sarah
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Monday, September 2, 2013
Mystery Melon on Labor Day
To be totally honest with you, I have almost no idea whatsoever what the story behind Labor Day is. I can only surmise it's a day celebrating us laboring folks but I don't know why it gives us a day off or why it's the first Monday in September. But you know what? I'm not one to argue with a good thing. I got two whole days off in a row and it. Was. Sweet.
On September 7th, my cousin George is getting married to the very awesome Miss Samantha Jo Staggs and for their wedding, the female guests are encouraged to wear Kentucky Derby-style hats to the ceremony. Well, it probably won't surprise you to hear that my sister Emmy and I don't exactly have a closet-full of these decked out hats but Emmy looked 'em up online and found that they can get pretty crazy and creative, and you know what? Crazy and creative is right up our alley. We decided to make our own!
It took a few lengthy trips to Walmart but we finally found passable hats to serve as the canvasses for our creations, plus a whole lot of decorative elements. I want to save the reveal of the hats for the actual ceremony but I will say that the hats came out completely incredible and totally... uh.. unique! Mine is quite gaudy and artsy, but my sister's is pretty much guaranteed to steal the show.. absolutely electrifying :)
So anyway, Em and I spent a good portion of our Labor Day weekend working on said hats at her house. Before we started working on them Sunday evening, we swung by Dairy Queen to get some ice cream first and ate sitting in her living room watching the Syfy channel. (She told me, "I used to laugh at David for watching this channel but now I watch it all the time!")
It was then that the scandal took place.
We were getting a fair bit of rain and Em and David's dog Pickles was inside, along with their two cats, Flo and Beans. Picks always has a ton of energy and likes to run around and play with toys and water bottles and... other things. I was watching TV when Picks shot by my chair, dropping something by my feet. I paid no attention but Em looked down and gasped. I looked down too, and saw... a cat turd, fresh from the litter box.
"Pickles!" Em protested. "Bad dog! You know you can't play with the cat turds!" Picks looked back at her, the picture of innocence. I felt the need to defend her.
"Oh, she was just giving me a present" I said.
Em looked dubious. "It's possible," she conceded, "but I actually think she's trying to blame it on you."
I looked at the turd in question, then the dog. The dog looked back at me with a look that said, "How vulgar! Have you no class?" I frowned.
"You see, she knows all too well that she can't but maybe she figures that you don't come here enough to know the rules. You're the perfect target," she added with a smile.
I couldn't decide if I was appalled or impressed.
This afternoon the Record family had our annual Labor Day picnic. We had it up at The Point, a piece of property where my family likes to shoot guns and eat. Shortly after arriving, my grandma realized she had forgotten something and headed back to her house with my cousin Brian in tow.
They were gone a strangely long time and we began to debate what had happened and where they went.
"She said she was headed to her house..." I began.
"Maybe she meant the Greenhouse," offered my cousin Danny as he dug through a cooler my Grandma had brought, full of cokes and, inexplicably, a tub of butter.
But soon after, we heard the roar of the gator coming up the road. My grandma drove up and began unloading the back of the gator. Brian helped, then approached the table we were sitting at with a strange look on his face and a large dark melon in his hands.
"She said it's a watermelon," he whispered. He set the mystery melon on the table and we all examined it. It was almost exactly the size, shape, weight and color of a bowling ball. The finger holes were the only things missing.
We conjectured for a while about what strange kind of gourd it was, but couldn't come to any conclusions.
After a while we ate dinner, sitting in the shade of great big pine trees at old metal picnic tables that are much older than I am with a light breeze blowing our hair and the edges of the table cloths my grandma had put down. We talked about school and work and Em and I bragged about our kickass derby hats. The sun sunk lower, elongating the shadows. We began to pack up the food and plates.
"Wait!" yelled Dan, and produced a large knife. He grabbed a spare bit of tinfoil and plunked the mystery melon on top of it. With the precision of a surgeon, he made an incision in the melon, carefully and slowly splitting it in two. Then, with a sudden motion, he pulled the melon apart.
"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered.
It was, unmistakably, a watermelon.
It was unappetizingly mushy, though, and instead of dessert, became target practice.
But, teach us to doubt Grandma!
Hope you had a good labor day, too!
Sarah
On September 7th, my cousin George is getting married to the very awesome Miss Samantha Jo Staggs and for their wedding, the female guests are encouraged to wear Kentucky Derby-style hats to the ceremony. Well, it probably won't surprise you to hear that my sister Emmy and I don't exactly have a closet-full of these decked out hats but Emmy looked 'em up online and found that they can get pretty crazy and creative, and you know what? Crazy and creative is right up our alley. We decided to make our own!
It took a few lengthy trips to Walmart but we finally found passable hats to serve as the canvasses for our creations, plus a whole lot of decorative elements. I want to save the reveal of the hats for the actual ceremony but I will say that the hats came out completely incredible and totally... uh.. unique! Mine is quite gaudy and artsy, but my sister's is pretty much guaranteed to steal the show.. absolutely electrifying :)
So anyway, Em and I spent a good portion of our Labor Day weekend working on said hats at her house. Before we started working on them Sunday evening, we swung by Dairy Queen to get some ice cream first and ate sitting in her living room watching the Syfy channel. (She told me, "I used to laugh at David for watching this channel but now I watch it all the time!")
It was then that the scandal took place.
We were getting a fair bit of rain and Em and David's dog Pickles was inside, along with their two cats, Flo and Beans. Picks always has a ton of energy and likes to run around and play with toys and water bottles and... other things. I was watching TV when Picks shot by my chair, dropping something by my feet. I paid no attention but Em looked down and gasped. I looked down too, and saw... a cat turd, fresh from the litter box.
"Pickles!" Em protested. "Bad dog! You know you can't play with the cat turds!" Picks looked back at her, the picture of innocence. I felt the need to defend her.
"Oh, she was just giving me a present" I said.
Em looked dubious. "It's possible," she conceded, "but I actually think she's trying to blame it on you."
I looked at the turd in question, then the dog. The dog looked back at me with a look that said, "How vulgar! Have you no class?" I frowned.
"You see, she knows all too well that she can't but maybe she figures that you don't come here enough to know the rules. You're the perfect target," she added with a smile.
I couldn't decide if I was appalled or impressed.
This afternoon the Record family had our annual Labor Day picnic. We had it up at The Point, a piece of property where my family likes to shoot guns and eat. Shortly after arriving, my grandma realized she had forgotten something and headed back to her house with my cousin Brian in tow.
They were gone a strangely long time and we began to debate what had happened and where they went.
"She said she was headed to her house..." I began.
"Maybe she meant the Greenhouse," offered my cousin Danny as he dug through a cooler my Grandma had brought, full of cokes and, inexplicably, a tub of butter.
But soon after, we heard the roar of the gator coming up the road. My grandma drove up and began unloading the back of the gator. Brian helped, then approached the table we were sitting at with a strange look on his face and a large dark melon in his hands.
"She said it's a watermelon," he whispered. He set the mystery melon on the table and we all examined it. It was almost exactly the size, shape, weight and color of a bowling ball. The finger holes were the only things missing.
We conjectured for a while about what strange kind of gourd it was, but couldn't come to any conclusions.
After a while we ate dinner, sitting in the shade of great big pine trees at old metal picnic tables that are much older than I am with a light breeze blowing our hair and the edges of the table cloths my grandma had put down. We talked about school and work and Em and I bragged about our kickass derby hats. The sun sunk lower, elongating the shadows. We began to pack up the food and plates.
"Wait!" yelled Dan, and produced a large knife. He grabbed a spare bit of tinfoil and plunked the mystery melon on top of it. With the precision of a surgeon, he made an incision in the melon, carefully and slowly splitting it in two. Then, with a sudden motion, he pulled the melon apart.
"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered.
It was, unmistakably, a watermelon.
It was unappetizingly mushy, though, and instead of dessert, became target practice.
But, teach us to doubt Grandma!
Hope you had a good labor day, too!
Sarah
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Pests!
Earlier in the summer, when all the crazy summer rains began, we had customers flocking to our anti-mosquito section. We couldn't even keep most of the stuff in stock, it was going so quickly. OFF sprays and citronella candles and bug zappers and citronella oils to go in lamps and mosquito dunks, oh!, the mosquito dunks! On Mondays (freight day) I'd have customers come in and demand I go through all the bins of freight just so they could get first dibs on the dunks. The two-packs were good but the six packs were better!
As you might imagine, we are still selling a lot of mosquito stuff, but right now the huge thing is flies. Flies are absolutely everywhere! The little sneaky small ones that buzz around your ears and drive you crazy but are so fast you hardly see 'em, and the big fat ones that seem to haunt your every move and stare you down with their big fat gross fly eyes. It's times like this that lots of people fly-hunt recreationally- we stroll leisurely around with a flyswatter in hand just looking for targets. And yes, I include myself in this category. Much like a paranoid ex-cop with his gun always near-by, oiled and ready for action, I have a pink and white flyswatter hidden by the cash register and unlike the gun enthusiast, I don't even have to switch the safety on and off!
Just last week I was eating lunch with my dad in the break room and we were joined by my Aunt Sonja and Uncle Jeff- my aunt was eating but my uncle wasn't. He sat back in his plastic lawn chair at the break table with a flyswatter clutched firmly in his hand, eyes cast upwards following the two or three little black winged demons as they buzzed around and occasionally dive-bombed the table. Every so often he would abruptly stand and slice the swatter through the air at a little buzzy target, without much success. After a while he sat down, shoulders slumped in defeat, looking at the swatter in his hand with dislike.
"I have the wrong weapon," he told us. "What I really need is my shotgun."
If you are really having trouble with pests we have something on the Rental side of the ACE store called The Ortho Problem Solver- America's Definitive Reference Book that I highly recommend. Tucked behind several shelves of fertilizer and Miracle Gro products and facing a shelf of lawn ornaments (like statues of the Virgin Mary and bobble head frogs) is a sort of altar with this humongous reference book on it. It is close to 1000 pages and is filled with photos of creepy bugs and descriptions and advice and pictures of rotting plants. I try to visit the altar and read a bit of the book everyday, usually right after I water the barrels of plants in front of the store because after lugging gallons and gallons of water I'm hot and cranky and the altar is right underneath a swamp cooler vent.
Pestwise, I personally have been having my issues with scorpions. I saw (and killed!) three scorpions in a period of two weeks. According to The Ortho Problem Solver- America's Definitive Reference Book, though scorpions are most often found outside under rocks etc, the will sometimes venture indoors when the weather gets really hot. Which it has. The Ortho Problem Solver- America's Definitive Reference Book also said that these scorpions are really pretty shy and mean no harm and just sting when threatened, and most times their stings are no more severe than a bee sting- really not dangerous unless you're allergic. So, basically, The Ortho Problem Solver- America's Definitive Reference Book told me to grow up and stop being such a wimp. Thanks, The Ortho Problem Solver- America's Definitive Reference Book.
On a more personal note, I am taking this semester off of school. I'm working at ACE (obviously...) instead of school and I'm really trying to focus on writing. I love writing and I think I'm pretty good at it and if you're reading this you either like what you read or are family and have no choice. Either way, I hope you'll stick with me. I'm going to try to write more and more blogs, even if they're not very good. I just need to get in the habit of writing more.
Thank you!!
Sarah
As you might imagine, we are still selling a lot of mosquito stuff, but right now the huge thing is flies. Flies are absolutely everywhere! The little sneaky small ones that buzz around your ears and drive you crazy but are so fast you hardly see 'em, and the big fat ones that seem to haunt your every move and stare you down with their big fat gross fly eyes. It's times like this that lots of people fly-hunt recreationally- we stroll leisurely around with a flyswatter in hand just looking for targets. And yes, I include myself in this category. Much like a paranoid ex-cop with his gun always near-by, oiled and ready for action, I have a pink and white flyswatter hidden by the cash register and unlike the gun enthusiast, I don't even have to switch the safety on and off!
Just last week I was eating lunch with my dad in the break room and we were joined by my Aunt Sonja and Uncle Jeff- my aunt was eating but my uncle wasn't. He sat back in his plastic lawn chair at the break table with a flyswatter clutched firmly in his hand, eyes cast upwards following the two or three little black winged demons as they buzzed around and occasionally dive-bombed the table. Every so often he would abruptly stand and slice the swatter through the air at a little buzzy target, without much success. After a while he sat down, shoulders slumped in defeat, looking at the swatter in his hand with dislike.
"I have the wrong weapon," he told us. "What I really need is my shotgun."
If you are really having trouble with pests we have something on the Rental side of the ACE store called The Ortho Problem Solver- America's Definitive Reference Book that I highly recommend. Tucked behind several shelves of fertilizer and Miracle Gro products and facing a shelf of lawn ornaments (like statues of the Virgin Mary and bobble head frogs) is a sort of altar with this humongous reference book on it. It is close to 1000 pages and is filled with photos of creepy bugs and descriptions and advice and pictures of rotting plants. I try to visit the altar and read a bit of the book everyday, usually right after I water the barrels of plants in front of the store because after lugging gallons and gallons of water I'm hot and cranky and the altar is right underneath a swamp cooler vent.
Pestwise, I personally have been having my issues with scorpions. I saw (and killed!) three scorpions in a period of two weeks. According to The Ortho Problem Solver- America's Definitive Reference Book, though scorpions are most often found outside under rocks etc, the will sometimes venture indoors when the weather gets really hot. Which it has. The Ortho Problem Solver- America's Definitive Reference Book also said that these scorpions are really pretty shy and mean no harm and just sting when threatened, and most times their stings are no more severe than a bee sting- really not dangerous unless you're allergic. So, basically, The Ortho Problem Solver- America's Definitive Reference Book told me to grow up and stop being such a wimp. Thanks, The Ortho Problem Solver- America's Definitive Reference Book.
On a more personal note, I am taking this semester off of school. I'm working at ACE (obviously...) instead of school and I'm really trying to focus on writing. I love writing and I think I'm pretty good at it and if you're reading this you either like what you read or are family and have no choice. Either way, I hope you'll stick with me. I'm going to try to write more and more blogs, even if they're not very good. I just need to get in the habit of writing more.
Thank you!!
Sarah
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Your Very Own Guide to Raton, NM!
I am fortunate enough to have been born in the cultural hotspot of Raton, America, and I felt it's time to share with those not so fortunate. Below I have compiled a small list of terms, locations, and activities common here in the Land of Enchantment.
You're welcome in advance.
BEAR BAIT- Local term. A not-so endearing term for the massive amounts of Boy Scouts who come through Raton every summer on their way to Philmont Scout Ranch.
CHAY (also SHAY)- Local vernacular. Not to be confused with "E". The word "chay" is usually used as an exclamation of surprise, awe, astonishment, or shock. In some cases, the word is drawn out extensively: "Chaaaayyyyyyyy". This usually indicates a larger amount of surprise, awe, etc.
CHUPACABRA- Local legend. Or is it? True, the Chupacabra is not just limited to New Mexico, but it is well known here. Every so often the NM news channels will do stories on the Chupacabra, and they are always a funny mix of the newscasters shooting holes in the story and irate farmers complaining about the damn things eating their goats.
CRUISING- Common local activity. Mostly a social activity, "cruising" is the activity of driving up and down Raton's 2nd Street with friends, blasting loud music and wasting finite natural resources.
DAIRY QUEEN ICE CREAM CONE- Infamous local landmark. Located in front of Raton's Dairy Queen establishment, there is a humongous replica of an ice cream cone. Just about every six year old who has seen it has licked it, Raton citizens included.
E- Local vernacular. Not to be confused with "chay". "E" (pronounced like it looks) is generally an exclamation of chagrin, annoyance, frustration, or exasperation. Often drawn out, "Eeeeeeeeeeee" sometimes comes out as an irritated sigh.
FIREBALLS, THE- The Fireballs are one of Raton's few claim-to-fames. The band formed in the 1950's and is known for the hit, "Sugar Shack".
GARDNER ROAD- Infamous local landmark. Gardner Road is a small road on the outskirts of Raton, not heavily trafficked. Mostly used by locals as a place to drink, get high, have sex, and/or hunt for trolls.
OMBERS- Local vernacular. Pronounced "awwm-burs". All but extinct, this word was the precursor to "chay", and is therefore noteworthy. Mostly used by elementary school children. As with "chay" and "E", "ombers" was sometimes drawn out.
PO-PO- Local vernacular. Term for the police, of course. I actually made a joke out of it: What does Santa Claus say when he sees the police? Po-po-po!
POLICE REPORT- Local news. Played on the radio, it's a list of alleged criminals and their crimes. Almost always good for a laugh, since it's such a small town. It's always great when someone you don't like gets a speeding ticket or something.
RATON- Place. Located in the Northeast corner of New Mexico, this gem of a town was once called "Willow Springs" but is now called Raton. No one is exactly sure why. For the record, pronounced correctly it would be something like "Ruh-tone" but we locals pronounce it "Rat-own".
TROLL- Local legend. Out on Gardner Road (see above), there is a bridge that, legend has it, is home to a flesh-eating troll. Locals will sometimes dare each other to go troll-hunting at night. As far as I'm aware, the troll has never been sighted, but when you go under the bridge in the daylight, there are bones down there. Maybe not such a legend after all...
WALMART (as in, "Let's go to Walmart!")- Location/Activity. Superior to KMart because of its location and 24 hour operation, locals like to go there a lot. It's an excuse to go to Trinidad where there are lots of different restaurants and whether you buy anything or not, there's always something to do. NOTE: Playing hide and seek there is frowned upon...
Have you contacted your travel agent yet? :)
Sarah
You're welcome in advance.
BEAR BAIT- Local term. A not-so endearing term for the massive amounts of Boy Scouts who come through Raton every summer on their way to Philmont Scout Ranch.
CHAY (also SHAY)- Local vernacular. Not to be confused with "E". The word "chay" is usually used as an exclamation of surprise, awe, astonishment, or shock. In some cases, the word is drawn out extensively: "Chaaaayyyyyyyy". This usually indicates a larger amount of surprise, awe, etc.
CHUPACABRA- Local legend. Or is it? True, the Chupacabra is not just limited to New Mexico, but it is well known here. Every so often the NM news channels will do stories on the Chupacabra, and they are always a funny mix of the newscasters shooting holes in the story and irate farmers complaining about the damn things eating their goats.
CRUISING- Common local activity. Mostly a social activity, "cruising" is the activity of driving up and down Raton's 2nd Street with friends, blasting loud music and wasting finite natural resources.
DAIRY QUEEN ICE CREAM CONE- Infamous local landmark. Located in front of Raton's Dairy Queen establishment, there is a humongous replica of an ice cream cone. Just about every six year old who has seen it has licked it, Raton citizens included.
E- Local vernacular. Not to be confused with "chay". "E" (pronounced like it looks) is generally an exclamation of chagrin, annoyance, frustration, or exasperation. Often drawn out, "Eeeeeeeeeeee" sometimes comes out as an irritated sigh.
FIREBALLS, THE- The Fireballs are one of Raton's few claim-to-fames. The band formed in the 1950's and is known for the hit, "Sugar Shack".
GARDNER ROAD- Infamous local landmark. Gardner Road is a small road on the outskirts of Raton, not heavily trafficked. Mostly used by locals as a place to drink, get high, have sex, and/or hunt for trolls.
OMBERS- Local vernacular. Pronounced "awwm-burs". All but extinct, this word was the precursor to "chay", and is therefore noteworthy. Mostly used by elementary school children. As with "chay" and "E", "ombers" was sometimes drawn out.
PO-PO- Local vernacular. Term for the police, of course. I actually made a joke out of it: What does Santa Claus say when he sees the police? Po-po-po!
POLICE REPORT- Local news. Played on the radio, it's a list of alleged criminals and their crimes. Almost always good for a laugh, since it's such a small town. It's always great when someone you don't like gets a speeding ticket or something.
RATON- Place. Located in the Northeast corner of New Mexico, this gem of a town was once called "Willow Springs" but is now called Raton. No one is exactly sure why. For the record, pronounced correctly it would be something like "Ruh-tone" but we locals pronounce it "Rat-own".
TROLL- Local legend. Out on Gardner Road (see above), there is a bridge that, legend has it, is home to a flesh-eating troll. Locals will sometimes dare each other to go troll-hunting at night. As far as I'm aware, the troll has never been sighted, but when you go under the bridge in the daylight, there are bones down there. Maybe not such a legend after all...
WALMART (as in, "Let's go to Walmart!")- Location/Activity. Superior to KMart because of its location and 24 hour operation, locals like to go there a lot. It's an excuse to go to Trinidad where there are lots of different restaurants and whether you buy anything or not, there's always something to do. NOTE: Playing hide and seek there is frowned upon...
Have you contacted your travel agent yet? :)
Sarah
Monday, July 22, 2013
West Virginia, a blog
So, about ten days ago I posted a poem I wrote about my trip to West Virginia, but it's high time I posted a longer, more detailed tribute. I, along with my sister Elizabeth (Emmy) and her boyfriend David, went out to West Virginia to visit my mom, step-dad Leo and their dogs!
FUN West Virginia facts and trivia!
Did you know...?
Thursday, July 4th
For the record, and this will be relevant later in the blog, I have two Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter shirts. I wore one on this day because it was Independence Day and the shirt says on it "Are you a patriot or a vampire?" and is therefore the most patriotic shirt I own.
Every year on the fourth of July, my family hosts a picnic for friends and family. Thinking back, I think the only one I've ever missed was three summers ago when I went to West Virginia the first time! Anyway, every year the picnic is a little different (some new people will come, some regulars don't make it, and the weather is subject to change) and a lot the same: my dad sits in a chair by the BBQ, drinking beer, surrounded by a bunch of guys with boisterous laughter, my grandma never EVER sits and instead flits around from person to person, table to table, literally forcing people to eat, demanding "Are you having fun?" and worrying because her head count is three off from last year, and the rest of us eat, drink, and try not to get sunburned.
Anyway, this fourth of July didn't disappoint. One of the only notable differences was that David's family came this year and he and his brother Buddha got involved in a water gun battle with my cousin Brian and his friend, and David and his brother dominated so heavily it was kind of hilarious.
Another difference was that after the picnic, my sister, David and I didn't hang around and watch Raton's firework display, but instead got in the car and drove down to Albuquerque!
Friday, July 5th
Friday was just kind of a long day traveling. We got up at 4:30 to get the 5:15 shuttle from our hotel to the airport, flew to Dallas, waited a few hours, got on a plane, waited about an hour while they fixed the "secondary power", which provides the plane with air conditioning, then flew to Charleston, WV!
We were picked up by Leo and three border collies. We went up the holler and hung out for a bit, then went downtown and listened to a concert right by the river. It was loud and lively and there were a bunch of people dancing like crazy. My mom and Leo kicked off their shoes and went dancing too! I'd say the majority of the crowd was more than a little intoxicated and it was pretty funny. My sister and I especially liked a guy that was twirling a lit-up baton- he was pretty bad at it but seemed to think he was pretty badass.
Afterwards we checked into our hotel by a guy at the front counter named Bob. Later that evening David went back down to ask a question and Bob was sitting out in front of the hotel with some buddies, smoking and drinking beer. Ahhhh, West Virginia!
Saturday, July 6th
On Saturday, we visited the Capitol Building in Charleston and then went fishing! Well, David went fishing while we watched and sat in the shade. It was kinda crazy because a car that was parked right next to ours got broken into while we and it's owners were about fifty feet away. Luckily none of us had left anything valuable in our car! Anyway, the police were called and it was then that we discovered West Virginians do not use the term "Po-po".
Sunday, July 7th
Sunday we went white-water rafting! West Virginia had been getting a whole lotta rain and all the rivers were really high. It was a great day for because it was kinda overcast and not too hot. Leo took his kayak and paddled alongside our raft. He thought the high water didn't make the rapids quite exciting enough but we all had a pretty cool time. Since we had to drive a ways to get to the rafting place, we got to see lots of the countryside and it is so unbelievably green and beautiful!
Monday, July 8th
I'd never been to a Cabela's before, or even known what it was, but Charleston had one so we went! It is this humongous hunting/fishing/camping kinda store. To state the obvious, I'm not a hunting/fishing/camping kind of girl but it was still pretty cool. They had tons of taxidermy on the walls and Em and I spent a good twenty minutes looking at all the bright, sparkly, stinky, gross kinds of fish bait.
That evening we went to see the Lone Ranger and sat through all of the end credits just to see New Mexico credited!
Tuesday, July 9th
My mom, David, Em and I drove from Charleston to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
The first thing I thought when we entered the lobby of the Gettysburg hotel was, "Wow! It smells like grapes and maple syrup in here!" because it did. Well, I thought so. I don't think everybody else really did. They agreed about the syrup and thought maybe chlorine, cuz of the pool, but no. It was grapes.
That evening we ate dinner at a brewery. David and my mom had some beer and I had a vodka cranberry or two. We tried pierogis for the first time and they weren't bad.
Wednesday, July 10th
When packing my suitcase I planned ahead for this trip and brought my SECOND Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter shirt specifically for this day. It is black and has the likeness of a penny on it, just with some blood and an ax. Where better to wear an Abe Lincoln shirt but Gettysburg? I put it on and my mom appraised me thoughtfully. She said, "I can't decide if it's a stroke of genius to wear that here, or just tacky and in bad taste."
The first thing we did that morning was go to the Gettysburg Visitor's Center. It's a huge building absolutely filled with civil war history! They have displays with weapons, soldier uniforms, medical devices, pictures, documents, you name it! They showed a short film about Gettysburg and in the visitor's center they also had something called the "Cyclorama" which was a massive, 360 degree oil painting from the late 1800's depicting the battle at Gettysburg. It's been restored and they light parts of it from behind while describing what's happening in the painting. It was incredible!
Afterwards, we went to the cemetery, where they have lots of memorials and countless gravestones, many unknown. They had a monument where Lincoln actually delivered the Gettysburg address and that was absolutely awesome!
We went to see the Wax Museum and then walked around from shop to shop looking at an unbelievable amount of merchandise. In front of a business that ran late-night Gettysburg ghost tours, a young man was dressed in Civil War-era clothing and handing out fliers. He gave us one and told us a little about it. He suddenly broke off his spiel, staring at me.
"I love your shirt!" he told me. "That was such an awesome movie!" I grinned at him, overjoyed to have someone appreciate the effort.
In the evening, we were getting ready to have dinner and my sister's phone rang. It was a computerized message kindly letting her know that our flight out of Harrisburg had been canceled. That was it. So after dinner we went back to our hotel room and Em spent literally about three hours on hold with Expedia, and then a few different airlines, trying to get a flight back home!
It was a long, stressful few hours but we managed to have a pretty good time anyway. One of the TV channels was playing Sleepless in Seattle on repeat and we had a bag of pretzels and some Dr. Peppers so while Em was on hold from numerous travel agents we just kind of hung out. We are now able to brag that we have heard Expedia's full "music while you're on hold" playlist!
Finally, we secured a flight from Baltimore to Houston to Albuquerque.
Thursday, July 11th
Thursday was another really long day of travelling, made even better by the fact that I lost my wallet somewhere in the Houston airport.
But we made it home. I really, really missed my dog and my kitties. What I didn't miss so much was work. The very next morning...
Sarah
with lots of credit to ELIZABETH RECORD for helping me remember
FUN West Virginia facts and trivia!
Did you know...?
- West Virginia covers about 24,000 square miles and has a population of about 1.8 million
- 25% of the nation's total coal production comes from West Virginia
- THEY HAVE CRAY-SEEEEE WEST VIRGINIA PRIDE!
Thursday, July 4th
For the record, and this will be relevant later in the blog, I have two Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter shirts. I wore one on this day because it was Independence Day and the shirt says on it "Are you a patriot or a vampire?" and is therefore the most patriotic shirt I own.
Every year on the fourth of July, my family hosts a picnic for friends and family. Thinking back, I think the only one I've ever missed was three summers ago when I went to West Virginia the first time! Anyway, every year the picnic is a little different (some new people will come, some regulars don't make it, and the weather is subject to change) and a lot the same: my dad sits in a chair by the BBQ, drinking beer, surrounded by a bunch of guys with boisterous laughter, my grandma never EVER sits and instead flits around from person to person, table to table, literally forcing people to eat, demanding "Are you having fun?" and worrying because her head count is three off from last year, and the rest of us eat, drink, and try not to get sunburned.
Anyway, this fourth of July didn't disappoint. One of the only notable differences was that David's family came this year and he and his brother Buddha got involved in a water gun battle with my cousin Brian and his friend, and David and his brother dominated so heavily it was kind of hilarious.
Another difference was that after the picnic, my sister, David and I didn't hang around and watch Raton's firework display, but instead got in the car and drove down to Albuquerque!
Friday, July 5th
Friday was just kind of a long day traveling. We got up at 4:30 to get the 5:15 shuttle from our hotel to the airport, flew to Dallas, waited a few hours, got on a plane, waited about an hour while they fixed the "secondary power", which provides the plane with air conditioning, then flew to Charleston, WV!
We were picked up by Leo and three border collies. We went up the holler and hung out for a bit, then went downtown and listened to a concert right by the river. It was loud and lively and there were a bunch of people dancing like crazy. My mom and Leo kicked off their shoes and went dancing too! I'd say the majority of the crowd was more than a little intoxicated and it was pretty funny. My sister and I especially liked a guy that was twirling a lit-up baton- he was pretty bad at it but seemed to think he was pretty badass.
Afterwards we checked into our hotel by a guy at the front counter named Bob. Later that evening David went back down to ask a question and Bob was sitting out in front of the hotel with some buddies, smoking and drinking beer. Ahhhh, West Virginia!
Saturday, July 6th
On Saturday, we visited the Capitol Building in Charleston and then went fishing! Well, David went fishing while we watched and sat in the shade. It was kinda crazy because a car that was parked right next to ours got broken into while we and it's owners were about fifty feet away. Luckily none of us had left anything valuable in our car! Anyway, the police were called and it was then that we discovered West Virginians do not use the term "Po-po".
Sunday, July 7th
Sunday we went white-water rafting! West Virginia had been getting a whole lotta rain and all the rivers were really high. It was a great day for because it was kinda overcast and not too hot. Leo took his kayak and paddled alongside our raft. He thought the high water didn't make the rapids quite exciting enough but we all had a pretty cool time. Since we had to drive a ways to get to the rafting place, we got to see lots of the countryside and it is so unbelievably green and beautiful!
Monday, July 8th
I'd never been to a Cabela's before, or even known what it was, but Charleston had one so we went! It is this humongous hunting/fishing/camping kinda store. To state the obvious, I'm not a hunting/fishing/camping kind of girl but it was still pretty cool. They had tons of taxidermy on the walls and Em and I spent a good twenty minutes looking at all the bright, sparkly, stinky, gross kinds of fish bait.
That evening we went to see the Lone Ranger and sat through all of the end credits just to see New Mexico credited!
Tuesday, July 9th
My mom, David, Em and I drove from Charleston to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
The first thing I thought when we entered the lobby of the Gettysburg hotel was, "Wow! It smells like grapes and maple syrup in here!" because it did. Well, I thought so. I don't think everybody else really did. They agreed about the syrup and thought maybe chlorine, cuz of the pool, but no. It was grapes.
That evening we ate dinner at a brewery. David and my mom had some beer and I had a vodka cranberry or two. We tried pierogis for the first time and they weren't bad.
Wednesday, July 10th
When packing my suitcase I planned ahead for this trip and brought my SECOND Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter shirt specifically for this day. It is black and has the likeness of a penny on it, just with some blood and an ax. Where better to wear an Abe Lincoln shirt but Gettysburg? I put it on and my mom appraised me thoughtfully. She said, "I can't decide if it's a stroke of genius to wear that here, or just tacky and in bad taste."
The first thing we did that morning was go to the Gettysburg Visitor's Center. It's a huge building absolutely filled with civil war history! They have displays with weapons, soldier uniforms, medical devices, pictures, documents, you name it! They showed a short film about Gettysburg and in the visitor's center they also had something called the "Cyclorama" which was a massive, 360 degree oil painting from the late 1800's depicting the battle at Gettysburg. It's been restored and they light parts of it from behind while describing what's happening in the painting. It was incredible!
Afterwards, we went to the cemetery, where they have lots of memorials and countless gravestones, many unknown. They had a monument where Lincoln actually delivered the Gettysburg address and that was absolutely awesome!
We went to see the Wax Museum and then walked around from shop to shop looking at an unbelievable amount of merchandise. In front of a business that ran late-night Gettysburg ghost tours, a young man was dressed in Civil War-era clothing and handing out fliers. He gave us one and told us a little about it. He suddenly broke off his spiel, staring at me.
"I love your shirt!" he told me. "That was such an awesome movie!" I grinned at him, overjoyed to have someone appreciate the effort.
In the evening, we were getting ready to have dinner and my sister's phone rang. It was a computerized message kindly letting her know that our flight out of Harrisburg had been canceled. That was it. So after dinner we went back to our hotel room and Em spent literally about three hours on hold with Expedia, and then a few different airlines, trying to get a flight back home!
It was a long, stressful few hours but we managed to have a pretty good time anyway. One of the TV channels was playing Sleepless in Seattle on repeat and we had a bag of pretzels and some Dr. Peppers so while Em was on hold from numerous travel agents we just kind of hung out. We are now able to brag that we have heard Expedia's full "music while you're on hold" playlist!
Finally, we secured a flight from Baltimore to Houston to Albuquerque.
Thursday, July 11th
Thursday was another really long day of travelling, made even better by the fact that I lost my wallet somewhere in the Houston airport.
But we made it home. I really, really missed my dog and my kitties. What I didn't miss so much was work. The very next morning...
Sarah
with lots of credit to ELIZABETH RECORD for helping me remember
Friday, July 12, 2013
West Virginia, a poem
I recently visited West Virginia and eventually I will post a blog about the trip. However, I'm feeling extremely lazy right now so that will have to wait.
In the meantime, I will post this poem I wrote while in West Virginia. Please note that poetry is not something I'm good at, do often, nor really enjoy. I was just in a rhyming mood, that's all. It's not that great but I still want to share it with whoever wants to read it.
All right!
From New Mexico, born and raised
To move elsewhere you must be crazed!
Why else would you move worlds away
Where there's no green chili and it rains all day?
West Virginia, green and lush
When it rains the rivers rush
Biscuit World in Charlie West
Dairy Winkle is the best
Churches poaching without shame
For more denominations you can name.
Walleyes nibbling Emmy's feet
Bugs just love the humid heat
David fishing with borrowed poles
The land is full of half-mined coal
Lightning bugs sparkle in the dark
Feed the ducks at Daniel Boone Park.
Border Collies race up the holler
Get beer and hotdogs for a dollar!
The buildings are old, but the land is older.
It holds the bones of Civil War soldiers
Musicians stomp their feet and saw their fiddles
People have few teeth but large middles!
Smokey the bear says "Fire Danger is low"
There are clever license plates everywhere you go.
Cheer and throw toast for West Virginia Power
Go white water rafting for hours and hours!
All too soon, it's time to go
back to dry, fire-prone New Mexico.
I'll miss my mom, Leo and the big rivers state-wide
But I'll also miss the strong West Virginia pride!
By the way, if you're planning on flying through the Houston Airport, please look for my wallet?
Sarah
In the meantime, I will post this poem I wrote while in West Virginia. Please note that poetry is not something I'm good at, do often, nor really enjoy. I was just in a rhyming mood, that's all. It's not that great but I still want to share it with whoever wants to read it.
All right!
From New Mexico, born and raised
To move elsewhere you must be crazed!
Why else would you move worlds away
Where there's no green chili and it rains all day?
West Virginia, green and lush
When it rains the rivers rush
Biscuit World in Charlie West
Dairy Winkle is the best
Churches poaching without shame
For more denominations you can name.
Walleyes nibbling Emmy's feet
Bugs just love the humid heat
David fishing with borrowed poles
The land is full of half-mined coal
Lightning bugs sparkle in the dark
Feed the ducks at Daniel Boone Park.
Border Collies race up the holler
Get beer and hotdogs for a dollar!
The buildings are old, but the land is older.
It holds the bones of Civil War soldiers
Musicians stomp their feet and saw their fiddles
People have few teeth but large middles!
Smokey the bear says "Fire Danger is low"
There are clever license plates everywhere you go.
Cheer and throw toast for West Virginia Power
Go white water rafting for hours and hours!
All too soon, it's time to go
back to dry, fire-prone New Mexico.
I'll miss my mom, Leo and the big rivers state-wide
But I'll also miss the strong West Virginia pride!
By the way, if you're planning on flying through the Houston Airport, please look for my wallet?
Sarah
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
What Did You Say?
I'm going to tell you an embarrassing secret. Well, it's not SO secret. Like, lots of strangers have been learning this secret firsthand for the past ten days or so. Well, okay, it's not really a secret. But it DOES embarrass me. Ready?
I have, um, how shall I say? "Spotty" hearing. I don't mean that I'm deaf, no, not at all. I can hear quiet sounds just fine! And I'm not talking about selective hearing; everybody has that. What I mean is, when people speak, I often have trouble understanding exactly what they say. I either hear a bunch of unintelligible sounds or I hear them say something different entirely. This is not a new problem! I've had it for as long as I can remember. It happens a lot in everyday conversations but when it comes to song lyrics, whispering, and especially people talking on the other end of a telephone call, I am really in trouble. Plus, all these things are compounded under stressful situations.
Don't know what I mean? For example, someone might tell me, "Please close the drawer" and I'll open the door. Until I was about sixteen, I honestly and truly believed the Von Trapp father from "Sound of Music" was, indeed, named Gaeogg. It never even occurred to me that their European accents would make the name "Georg" sound like that.
When I was younger, I, like so many, watched the 1970's musical "Grease" and sang along with the catchy classic songs like "Summer Nights" and "You're The One That I Want". It wasn't til my mom laughed at me when she heard me singing "Greased Lightnin" and corrected me that I realized I was singing the lyrics completely incorrectly. For the record, the correct lyrics are:
"Go, Greased Lightnin', you're burnin' up the quarter mile!
Greased Lighnin', Go Greased Lightnin'!" along with choreography of the Grease cast moving their arms horizontally across and then up and down, I guess signifying watching the car race across the screen or whatever.
I know that now. However, at the time, I thought they were singing:
"Go, Greased Lightnin', you're burnin' up the 409!
Greased Lightnin', Go Greased Lightnin'"! and I thought the hand movements signified them using the kitchen cleanser to wipe the greasy mess away!
Shut up.
Here is a link to a video of the song:
http://youtu.be/wK63eUyk-iM
Watch the video and during that part, can't you imagine the cast of Grease was using 409 to wipe up various greasy kitchen surfaces?
This problem of mine has really come to light recently because last Monday, I started a new job. As I stated in a previous blog, I've been working in the ACE Greenhouse but our greenhouse season is now over and I was out of a job! So, I started working the Rental counter inside the store. I've worked in and around the ACE store for a very long time, but only doing things like greenhouse, making bin tag labels, checking inventory, ordering, mowing the back lot, etc. Never have I worked at the counter! You would think that working the cash register inside the store wouldn't be that different from doing it in the greenhouse, but you would be wrong.
Not only is the cash register much more complex, but I also had to learn to run credit and debit cards, endorse checks, do returns, answer phones, transfer calls and.... do rental forms!
Rental forms are competed by taking the renter's information like name/name of business, phone number, equipment name and information, etc. These make me really nervous because so far I'm not good at them at all and I don't completely understand how to do them correctly.
Anyway, this afternoon, a man came in to rent some equipment. My coworker, Rich, has been helping me learn to fill out the forms and he knew the man and had me work on the form as they chatted nearby. For whatever reason, no matter how many times the man told me his business's name, I couldn't quite catch it. I felt awkward after asking him to repeat it several times so I filled out the form with what I had heard.
After a minute, the customer leaned over to scan what I had written. I knew it was bad when he did a double take and pulled the form towards him.
"Girl!" he exclaimed. "It is ANDREW's Plumbing, not ANGIE's!!" Then he began to laugh and snort and so did Rich.
"Oh, my god," I said, hanging my head, ashamed.
"It's okay," he chuckled. "Just, please change it."
Towards the end of my day, a man came up to the counter with his merchandise. He took in my frazzled appearance and generally stressed-out demeanor. He smiled kindly. "You new?"
"Fine, thanks," I smiled back.
He raised his voice slightly and enunciated. "YOU NEW HERE?"
I turned pink. "Yeah. Very."
"Thought so."
And I am new. And I think I will get better and better. And as embarrassing as these things are when they happen, they do make good stories later...
Sarah
I have, um, how shall I say? "Spotty" hearing. I don't mean that I'm deaf, no, not at all. I can hear quiet sounds just fine! And I'm not talking about selective hearing; everybody has that. What I mean is, when people speak, I often have trouble understanding exactly what they say. I either hear a bunch of unintelligible sounds or I hear them say something different entirely. This is not a new problem! I've had it for as long as I can remember. It happens a lot in everyday conversations but when it comes to song lyrics, whispering, and especially people talking on the other end of a telephone call, I am really in trouble. Plus, all these things are compounded under stressful situations.
Don't know what I mean? For example, someone might tell me, "Please close the drawer" and I'll open the door. Until I was about sixteen, I honestly and truly believed the Von Trapp father from "Sound of Music" was, indeed, named Gaeogg. It never even occurred to me that their European accents would make the name "Georg" sound like that.
When I was younger, I, like so many, watched the 1970's musical "Grease" and sang along with the catchy classic songs like "Summer Nights" and "You're The One That I Want". It wasn't til my mom laughed at me when she heard me singing "Greased Lightnin" and corrected me that I realized I was singing the lyrics completely incorrectly. For the record, the correct lyrics are:
"Go, Greased Lightnin', you're burnin' up the quarter mile!
Greased Lighnin', Go Greased Lightnin'!" along with choreography of the Grease cast moving their arms horizontally across and then up and down, I guess signifying watching the car race across the screen or whatever.
I know that now. However, at the time, I thought they were singing:
"Go, Greased Lightnin', you're burnin' up the 409!
Greased Lightnin', Go Greased Lightnin'"! and I thought the hand movements signified them using the kitchen cleanser to wipe the greasy mess away!
Shut up.
Here is a link to a video of the song:
http://youtu.be/wK63eUyk-iM
Watch the video and during that part, can't you imagine the cast of Grease was using 409 to wipe up various greasy kitchen surfaces?
This problem of mine has really come to light recently because last Monday, I started a new job. As I stated in a previous blog, I've been working in the ACE Greenhouse but our greenhouse season is now over and I was out of a job! So, I started working the Rental counter inside the store. I've worked in and around the ACE store for a very long time, but only doing things like greenhouse, making bin tag labels, checking inventory, ordering, mowing the back lot, etc. Never have I worked at the counter! You would think that working the cash register inside the store wouldn't be that different from doing it in the greenhouse, but you would be wrong.
Not only is the cash register much more complex, but I also had to learn to run credit and debit cards, endorse checks, do returns, answer phones, transfer calls and.... do rental forms!
Rental forms are competed by taking the renter's information like name/name of business, phone number, equipment name and information, etc. These make me really nervous because so far I'm not good at them at all and I don't completely understand how to do them correctly.
Anyway, this afternoon, a man came in to rent some equipment. My coworker, Rich, has been helping me learn to fill out the forms and he knew the man and had me work on the form as they chatted nearby. For whatever reason, no matter how many times the man told me his business's name, I couldn't quite catch it. I felt awkward after asking him to repeat it several times so I filled out the form with what I had heard.
After a minute, the customer leaned over to scan what I had written. I knew it was bad when he did a double take and pulled the form towards him.
"Girl!" he exclaimed. "It is ANDREW's Plumbing, not ANGIE's!!" Then he began to laugh and snort and so did Rich.
"Oh, my god," I said, hanging my head, ashamed.
"It's okay," he chuckled. "Just, please change it."
Towards the end of my day, a man came up to the counter with his merchandise. He took in my frazzled appearance and generally stressed-out demeanor. He smiled kindly. "You new?"
"Fine, thanks," I smiled back.
He raised his voice slightly and enunciated. "YOU NEW HERE?"
I turned pink. "Yeah. Very."
"Thought so."
And I am new. And I think I will get better and better. And as embarrassing as these things are when they happen, they do make good stories later...
Sarah
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