Music: Todd Rundgren's "Faithful"
Link o' the Day: Customers Suck!

And here we are on Monday.

Not a bad day overall. Somewhat productive. I'm pleased to say that the Desk of Despair has been cleared of the Clutter of Crud. The Light Table of (whatever I called it last night) is likewise cleared as well some other bits and pieces of the bedroom. And I got some writing done! Yay, me! Of course I have a lot that still needs to be written and edited, but I've been so busy with freelance work lately that I really needed some time to work on my own stuff. Part of this was the clearing of the Desk of Depair and turning it into a Desk of Really Great Deeds. that is to say, I set my laptop up in the bedroom where there are fewer distractions.

And while I was working I queried a slow market, and sent a story to another market that needed sending out. We'll see. So productive evening overall.

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Not much else to report today. We get closer and closer to the Big Move. Again, yay--me!

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Today's link goes to a site that I'm sure will warm the cockles of many a heart out there. At least those cockles who have had jobs in the past that could be best described as "Customer Service" jobs. It's Customers Suck! As the name suggests, it's a webpage for folks condemned to working customer service to vent and related horror stories. I remember my days behind the counter and read through many of the sections nodding with an eerie sense of familiarity.

I've had a number of different jobs over the past twenty years--probably the worst being bar bouncer. Sure, it sounds like a cool job, but try being the only bouncer for a college bar on the weekends. Yeesh! I learned then and there that some people have no shame when it comes to trying to get into bars. Fake IDs. Handing IDs back and forth in hopes I wouldn't notice. having lithe girls slink up against me in hopes of distracting me so I wouldn't notice their three underage friends sneaking in behind me.

The worst was this one idiot who hands me his ID, and it's not a fake or anything. It clearly states that he was 19. I look at him and ask, "What? Not even a fake? What makes you think I'm going to let you in here with this?"

"I'm on the baseball team."

"You think you have a right to be here illegally because you're some sort of jock?"

"Yeah!"

"Get the f*ck out of here!" Meanwhile, his friends are all laughing at him.

Yeesh-squared. I caught him trying to sneak in through the fire door in back (well, sort of sneak--a big alarm went off whenever that door was opened--so it wasn't exactly subtle. I couldn't even give him points for cleverness.

And of course fights would break out on occasion, but you get a certain advantage when the pugilists are bombed out of their skull. But what made me decide never to bounce again was experiencing the night before all the students left for the summer. I had a least half a dozen bottles thrown at my head (again, I was at an adbtage in that thehurlers were too drunk to aim well). And the students (Providence College students--there, I said it) proceeded to trash the place.

I was very impressed with those students. Very mature. Very adult. Maybe the drinking age should be raised to 30.

Okay, that's it for the night. Gotta dash.

Cheers!