VeryContrary

Things that are making me happy right now:

1)  My stepsons are here for the whole week while they’re on Spring Break.   There will be Scrabble and Texas Hold’Em and movies.  That’s right people, it’s party central around here.

2) The new season of Gene Simmon’s Family Jewels is here.  I was always a little scared of the Demon, but it turns out he’s a pussycat.

3) Did mention how I don’t work for the Big Bad Corporation anymore?   I’m telling you, it’ll give you a whole new outlook on life.

Things that are making me unhappy this week:

1) Not a damned thing.  It’s all good.

How are things going with y’all?

  Mickey and Minnie Mouse are in the middle of some rather nasty divorce proceedings.

The judge, addressing himself to Mickey, says, “Ok, sir.  I’ve heard your testimony and it is my understanding that you wish to divorce your wife because she’s crazy. Is that correct?”.

Mickey replies, ‘I didn’t say she was crazy, Your Honor. I said she was fucking Goofy.”
*Un petit drôle- ‘a small funny’ in French, at least according to Babel Fish.  I thought maybe it would class up this post, which I think we can all agree totally needed it.

As you know if you’ve been reading regularly (and if you haven’t, why not? Do you want to make me cry? Is that what this is? Because it’s kind of mean, is all I’m saying), I am starting a new business.

For the record, when I say ‘I’ am starting a new business, I actually mean me, and my fellow groomer and partner, Miranda, and then there’s all the work that Pookie has done and continues to do and Baby Girl has done more than her fair share (sometimes it’s not so cushy to work for your Mom) and of course, Pooter has helped by providing comic relief and keeping us awake when we were literally watching varnish dry.

So when I say that ‘I’ am starting a new business, I’m not discounting anyone else. I’m just trying to keep the writing (and I use the term loosely) simple and spare. Possibly so that I have more room for cuss words.  Who the fuck knows.

We’ve been calling our customes to let them know where we are, and in a bit of irony when I say ‘we’, I actually mean ‘I’, because I’m the only one making any calls.   So far.  We only have the one phone line, so it’s  my turn now, and then Miranda (my partner) will get her turn in the barrel.    The barrel, she is a cruel mistress.

Anyway, besides the  cauliflower ear, it’s been by and large a positive experience.  People have been very enthusiastic about the new place and are eager to come see us.

However, the one that will forever stick in my mind is the wonderful lady who said (and I quote), “I’m so proud and happy for you! I always knew you were better than that place.”.

I think I love her.

Today’s post comes to you in list form. Because that’s how I roll. Yo. And yes, I’m aware that the the faux gangster talk is simply not done anymore, but I’m not very cool or ‘with it’, and that really is how I roll.
(1) Festivals we attended this weekend: 1

The Jonquil Festival at Old Washington State Park in Arkansas (just a quick jog down the road from Hope, where they’re still shooting up the ‘Birthplace of Clinton’ signs. )

(2) Foods consumed off a stick because I didn’t learn anything the last time: 4

Alligator (of course, right?), sausage, shrimp and the hands-down favorite, chocolate covered strawberries. We ate, we made candles, we appreciated history and we met some local wildlife.

The wildlife being Agnes the wild turkey, and Esme the peahen. We named them ourselves, because we are the kind of people who do that. Well, Baby Girl and I are the kind of people who do that. Pookie is the kind of people who roll their eyes at people like us.

(3) Shows/movies added to the TiVo line-up: A lot.

Some highlights: Shalom in the Home on TLC. I have a little bit of a crush on the Rabbi. Apparently common sense is an aphrodisiac to me. Next I’ll be mackin’ on the Supernanny.

Barefoot in the Park with Jane Fonda and Robert Redford. It was made in 1967 and they were both gorgeous. Also, Neil Simon wrote it so it’s funny as hell.

Mythbusters. I don’t know we’ve never TiVo’d this one since we watch it every chance we get, but it has it’s own season pass now.

All in all a great weekend, thanks mostly to a newfound ability to eat stick food in reasonable quantities.

So what did y’all do this weekend? Go anywhere fun? Eat anything disgusting? Watch anything on the tube that didn’t kill any brain cells? Inquiring minds want to know.

To all you who have been clamoring to hear what happened on my last day at Large Multi-national Corporation (all one of you), you’ll be glad to know that it was rather anti-climactic.

I was going to weave a story full of intrigue and violence and bullshit, but at the end of the day, I’m too tired to do anything except tell the truth.  The truth is kind of boring, y’all.

It was actually a pretty good day.  I felt much the same way I imagine a prisoner feels packing up his shaving kit and girlie magazines on his last day in the joint.

I did have one manager tell me (when I expressed disinterest in someone else’s  breach of stupid, useless policy), “You are still the salon manager even if it is only for a few more days, you know.”.  To which I replied, “Actually, I’m salon manager for about 30 more minutes, but I haven’t given a shit for awhile now.”.    Hee.

We’re running a bit behind on opening the new place because the owners were renovating and got screwed by their ‘contractors’ (‘contractors’ here meaning the meth heads their son hired so he could pocket some of the renovation money).  So March’s rent money will go toward April’s rent instead and we’ll be officially open less than a week later than we intended.

Which is fine because it gives us time to accomplish some other stuff, like fuck around on the internet while ‘at work’.  That’s right, I can now screw around on the internet while at work, like all the rest of you slackers.

Also, I wanted to show you what our banner (sign) will look like.   Just go here and have a look.  I have to tell you that when my daughter saw it, she said, “Wow, our phone number is easy to remember.”.   She said this completely without irony.  She’s so pretty.

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Conversation between Pooter and I the other evening.

Him: (low level fussing)

Me:  What are you fussing about?

Him: Because I’m upset. (‘because’ is his default sentence starter)

Me:  You’re not upset. You’re pretending to be upset. I know. I’m a girl.

Pookie (in the other room):  Snort.

My life of late has been..a bit stressful.  Between finishing out my two weeks at the old job and trying to get everything ready to open the new place on Monday (things NOT ready, btw), things have been, well, crazy.

I won’t bore you with the details, because the details are indeed very boring (Ex: The water company has the highest desposit of any of the utilities, phone and internet included. Yawn.)

There have been a couple of high points though.

The first was when I got to kick a customer out and tell her not to come back.  It was totally satisfying. Don’t worry, I didn’t just pick out an old lady at random to kick out, just to give myself a boost.  This lady deserved it.

She got very angry when the groomer didn’t recognize her because “You’re name is Kate and my name is Katie! Remember!?  GOD, I can’t believe you don’t remember me.”

Then, she insisted that we had always charged her for a toy poodle clip on her dog. Which, since her dog is most definitely a miniature poodle and the computer verified that she had never been charged for a toy, we told her she was mistaken.

Let me give y’all a little advice.  Don’t tell crazy people they are wrong.  It’s a bad idea.

I was already inclined to boot her out, but besides the size of her ego (“I’m Katie! You’re Kate! What is WRONG with you!?”), and trying to get the groom cheaper, she hadn’t really acted out badly enough to get the boot.

Just as I’m telling the manager that I’d just as soon he got rid of her, she loudly exclaimed that Kate was pissing her off.

I whipped my head around at her and announced that ‘ok, we’re done now!’.  I handed her her dog and told her that she needed to leave.  She then told me that Kate had ‘screamed’ at her first.  Since Kate is sort of infamous for being a low talker and there were about 10 people in the salon at the time, she had no hope of getting that one to fly.

I quite literally shooed her out of the salon, all the while saying things like, “Alrighty then!  Thanks so much!  Time to go!  Have a great day!”

The other high point was having a great book to excape into and forget all the stress for awhile.  Super Mom Saves the world is a fast, fun read and totally capable of delivering you to Calgon-type happiness.

Melanie Lynne Hauser is a hot chick with a sense of humor (check out her blog) and the ability to transfer that sense of humor to the page.  Thank God.  Now if I could just get Super Mom over here to use her power of 20,000 Swiffers on my house, I’d be finer than frog hair.

The other day my friend Miranda and I had the following conversation. About spit. Because we are 10, apparently.

Me: Spitting is disgusting. Truly revolting. Ack.

Her: Dude, we all know how you feel about spitting. We get it. Now shut it.

Me: Whatever. Hey, when I was a kid, though, I could spit like a cobra. I was deadly.

Her: A spitting cobra?

Me: No, dumbass, the non-spitting variety. They’re just as mean and unpredictable, but not nearly as deadly. Unless, of course, you lie down in front of them and let them spit in your eye.

We then spent the next ten minutes pretending to be a spitless cobra. Complete with lots of spittle flying around and the noises one might make while attempting to ‘hock up a loogie’.

We decided that this particular snake is kind of grumpy, has an inferiority complex and is more than likely named Steve.

Steve the loogie hocking cobra.

Ok, so.  I’m quitting my job (my last day will be March 9.  It cannot get here soon enough), and opening a business.  I’m not doing it by myself, because there’s just no way I could.  Besides Pookie, without whom this literally would not have worked, I will have two partners.

In case you don’t know, I’m a pet groomer.  I’ve been doing this since God was a pup and I’m really rather good at it.  (Most memorable client?  The 13 foot long albino Burmese python. Poor thing had mites and needed a bath.  If you want to know what bathing a snake is like, grab a ferret or a four year old boy child (I have one you can borrow. Boy, not ferret), and attempt to wash them with any precision or thoroughness.   Then imagine them 13 foot long, kind of ticked off by this point, and glaring at you with red eyes.)

Parenthetical paragraphs aside, this development is very exciting.   I currently work for a company that wouldn’t collectively cross the street to piss on me if I was on fire.  In case that wasn’t clear, I’m not feeling the love.  Nobody is feeling the love.   A few months ago, I went to work and my boss was just..gone.  There one day, gone the next.  He was fired, although the party line is that he was ‘moving on to bigger and better things.  Which, come to think of it, would be a great closing line for a resignation.

So, we get a new boss on loan and he’s, well, he’s an asshat.  He’s simultaeously clueless and cunning.  On his first day, in the middle of telling me how we were going to overhaul the grooming department (gah), he says, ‘Hey, I notice everyone is really tense.  Any idea why?”.

Well.  Let me think.  Maybe it’s because our boss is gone, in an unexplained and abrupt manner, and now you’re here.   They’re all worried that they’re next on the chopping block, dumbass.

Fully eight employees have given their notice and most of those have already left.  One day, when New Boss wasn’t there and we could relax a little  (“What are you doing to grow the business?”  “Remember, the customer is always right, even when they’re wrong! Fuckwit.), three of us got to talking and someone (I don’t remember who) said something like, “Fuck this. We should open our own place”.   The other two of us agreed heartily and thus, a plan was born.

I immediately started looking at commercial rental properties and learned what frustration really meant.   The money that people were asking for some of these places was crazy.   One place, approximately 9oo sq. ft, was going for $1200 a month.  I realize that doesn’t sound like much for that much commercial space, but this is a very small town on the outskirts of a lower-medium sized city.   Our commercial real estate generally runs about a buck a foot.  This place was already overpriced, but it also had ceiling tiles falling out, an awful green floor..covering (I honestly don’t know what it was) a smell that can only be described as stenchtastic and had tractors parked in it.

Now, I suppose I could have used the tractors as art/conversation pieces, but the rest of it just wouldn’t do.  I asked if he was planning on doing any renovations (which was my polite way of asking if he really thought he was going to get $1200 for this shithole), and he replied that he wasn’t “putting any more money into it.  Oh, and by the way, when they run the new road through here, the building will be coming down. Don’t know when, could be 5 weeks, could be 5 years. Don’t worry though, I’ll try to give you 60 days notice.”    Pookie’s theory is that the nice man was, in fact, smoking the dope.

No wonder it’s never been rented out in the five years I’ve lived here.

So anyway, after much frustration and being stalked by realtors with their heads up their asses (2500 square feet for only $3750 a month! It’s a steal! Which is ironic because I’m the thief! Call me!), I found a place.  It’s awesome and it’s perfect and it’s everything we need, on two acres, even.

We’ll be doing pet grooming, daycare and boarding.  There is virtually no competition for the services we’ll be providing. Well, there are lots of groomers here (but we do have a fairly large and loyal following) but there is no pet daycare and any boarding is strictly ‘dog sits in a box all day and tries to avoid getting sprayed when someone cleans out his kennel’.   It’s like jail, only not as warm and cozy.

We’ll be providing the space and the resources for dogs to have interaction (with both people and other dogs) and exercise.  We’ll have pools for dogs to swim in, toys for dogs to chew on and sticks for dogs to chase.

It’s kind of exciting and scary and nervewracking and an absolute blast all at the same time.   The thing is, the last time I did this (started a business), it was with Patsy and she was the veteran and did everything and I kind of gave her money and showed up to work when she told me to.   This time around, I’m the vet and the one getting things done, for the most part.  I keep wishing for Patsy, to be honest.

The two things I did last time that were of any signifigance were that I found the building and I thought of the name.  Well, I found the building this time too, but instead of having to think of another name, I simply recycled the first one.   Since the first business is still going strong, I figured that was a good omen.  So, we’re calling it Creature Comforts.  What do you think?