Of Robberies and Canadians
I live in a small town. I'll freely admit it. We call it a "bubble town." We're a small town surrounded by, if you can believe it, even smaller towns. That could be why, perhaps, that it's beyond shocking when a bank robbery occurs where I live. Just down the road, too-- when I walk to band camp or work, I pass that bank. I pass that bank daily, in fact, whether by foot or vehicle.
The worst part is that I know who did it. I know it makes it sound as though I was involved with the robbery, but I wasn't. I mean, seriously. If you weren't aware, stealing anything makes me feel sick. Oh, and the police know that I know, because my dad had to go and identify the man. So did our family friend and pastor. So did another family friend. That's because the guy is a drug addict.
No lie. He used my family for our money for years-- that's part of the reason we're in so much trouble now. My parents have always had bad credit and we've never really been up on the bills that I can remember, but it doesn't help when you have a leech cheating you out of your money to buy cocaine. My mom knew he was a drug addict and wanted him out of our lives-- my dad didn't listen. He sort of went blindy, perhaps naively, along with the drug addict. The guy was supposedly turning his life around-- he was going to church. That's how my dad met him, in fact: he was walking home from church with a Bible in his hand. My dad picked him up and became friends.
In short, he virtually ruined my family. We stopped going to church together, my parents fought, nothing's been good since. He wasn't a good addition to the family.
And now this. My mom said that she heard that someone heard him talking about how some guy robbed a bank in Hermitage and got away with it.
All I know is that when you get to the point where you need money for drugs that bad, you're lost. It's sick, and I'm disgusted by it. I don't think I wrote about it in here, but my family was also screwed over by another drug addict.
Maybe I'll write the full version of both stories at a later time, but the wounds are fresh. Remind me, and maybe I'll get around to it. Maybe in a fit of anger, I'll just have to let it all out. But until then I think I'll just continue quietly seething.
In lighter news, I saw cassi0688 at McDonald's today with the cute boy she babysits. I thought it was the cutest thing with the way he was taking her hand and pulling her around. I totally wanted to say hi, Cassi, but I... didn't.
And maybe in some down news about work (when don't I have some bad news about work?), Vanna was a bit upset today. Upset could be an understatement, but I didn't stay around to assess her state of distress.
Borris had the schedule book changed to me staying until 1:30 instead of four, so that I could attend Alura's Sweet 16. Well, we got a bus load of people, and 1:30 came and went. My mom came into the store at about 1:45 and gave me the little, "Are you coming?" look. So I asked Vanna if I could clock out.
"What time are you supposed to leave?" She looked at me as though I had lost my mind.
"1:30," I told her, more than likely with the same look.
"We have you down in the floor plan until four."
"Are you sure?" I pulled out the schedule book. "I thought Borris changed the schedule."
So Vanna looked through and, just as I thought, it was changed. However, Vanna said that this was the first they had heard of it. When she told me I was down in the floor plan until four, it was almost as if she expected me to say, "Well, I can stay." But I didn't.
I'll be honest: I almost did. Vanna can give you a look that would make puppies keel over and die. But then I thought of Alura's party.
"Well, I guess you can clock out, then." And she set it up for me. She then proceeded to tell Courtney that she was going to work counter.
I felt bad, but what could I do? I wasn't going to miss my friend's Sweet 16-- a friend I hardly ever have time to see. Was it my job to tell Vanna that the schedule was changed? Borris initialed it-- I assumed he would have told them. But I wasn't going to miss my friend's party. We had people coming in, and we would be fine for the night, I'm sure.
Live and learn, I suppose. When I tell my mom something bad that happened at work, she always repeats, "You're fifteen and this is your first job." She always tells me not to get stressed out and to relax. And this time I think I will. I'm sick of worrying about the trivial things-- I went to the party, and moreover, I had fun.
Vanna has tomorrow off, too, and I'm pretty sure that tomorrow starts her vacation. She'll have time to cool down and I doubt she'll even remember it happened when she gets back. Hopefully she'll be mellow and cool, and will let me start with a fresh slate.
And if she doesn't, my life might just suck. But I've decided that if I become hated at my job, I'm done the moment I turn sixteen. There will be other jobs for me, and so far, I've done well at my job, so I should leave on good standing with Borris and my other managers. I don't want to leave my job, but if I would begin to feel tortured, I'm not going to stick through it.
There's a girl that works with me right now, Madeline, that Vanna hates. With passion. and Maddy knows it-- it's not some huge secret. If I was in Maddy's position, I'd quit.
The difference between me and Maddy is that I'm good at my job. Not that I'm trying to pump up my ego, but Maddy is bad at drive-thru and can't work grill. She can't really do much at all-- she was hired through major connections. She came in late one day and then tried lying when Vanna called and ended up coming in an hour late, only to ask if she could have more hours. Not to mention that when Vanna called, Maddy's mom said, "It's Vanna from McDonald's! Do you want to talk to her?" As if Maddy even had a choice.
But, seriously, if my life sucked, I'd go work at a bookstore. Or maybe the library. I heard the other day that when we get the Super Wal-Mart we're also getting a Barnes and Noble.
I know.
BARNES AND NOBLE!!!!!
I'm so excited when I think about it. It's not coming until late 2007/sometime in 2008, of course, but I'm so excited. I almost pop a vein squeeling the moment I start thinking of it. I hope it's like the one in Cranberry-- that BN is amazing. I could spend days there-- literally. I kid you not.
Until then, there's always Value Booksellers. I love that store, too. Speaking of which, I need to get out there sometime to buy Shopaholic Ties the Knot. A book that I do, in fact, have the money for. Only not really, after all the expenses I have. My paycheck is my biggest one yet, though-- $199.20.
Not much to some, but I almost choked when I saw it. When did I work all those hours? It was insane.
I don't want to start talking about money, though. I really just want to say another thing about my day at work.
I gave this man his change, and I gave him a couple dimes. I guess he was looking at them or something, because the next thing I hear is, "Excuse me, miss? I don't want this dime, it's not American."
Sure enough, upon closer inspection, I see that it's a Canadian dime.
"I'd like another one, please."
At first, when he said that, I smiled, because I thought he was joking. Then after a second or two I realized he was dead serious.
"Absolutely, sir! We'll get you that." I asked Vanna to open my drawer and then I pulled out an American dime, checking closely to be sure that it definitely wasn't foreign.
I couldn't believe it when he did that, though. What place doesn't accept Canadian money? Sure some places don't, but most do. A dime is a dime, okay? And I don't think it was even the whole "where he could and couldn't spend it" factor, as much as the fact that the dime was Canadian.
Since when don't people like the quiet neighbors to the North? I could understand if it was Mexican or something, but friendly Canada? They don't cause any trouble!
The things you see at McDonald's.
And if anyone pays attention to baseball/Yankees/Red Sox/sports/ESPN, you'll know that the Yankees are kicking the Red Sox's butts. It's so bad that I almost feel bad laughing about it. Almost.
The worst part is that I know who did it. I know it makes it sound as though I was involved with the robbery, but I wasn't. I mean, seriously. If you weren't aware, stealing anything makes me feel sick. Oh, and the police know that I know, because my dad had to go and identify the man. So did our family friend and pastor. So did another family friend. That's because the guy is a drug addict.
No lie. He used my family for our money for years-- that's part of the reason we're in so much trouble now. My parents have always had bad credit and we've never really been up on the bills that I can remember, but it doesn't help when you have a leech cheating you out of your money to buy cocaine. My mom knew he was a drug addict and wanted him out of our lives-- my dad didn't listen. He sort of went blindy, perhaps naively, along with the drug addict. The guy was supposedly turning his life around-- he was going to church. That's how my dad met him, in fact: he was walking home from church with a Bible in his hand. My dad picked him up and became friends.
In short, he virtually ruined my family. We stopped going to church together, my parents fought, nothing's been good since. He wasn't a good addition to the family.
And now this. My mom said that she heard that someone heard him talking about how some guy robbed a bank in Hermitage and got away with it.
All I know is that when you get to the point where you need money for drugs that bad, you're lost. It's sick, and I'm disgusted by it. I don't think I wrote about it in here, but my family was also screwed over by another drug addict.
Maybe I'll write the full version of both stories at a later time, but the wounds are fresh. Remind me, and maybe I'll get around to it. Maybe in a fit of anger, I'll just have to let it all out. But until then I think I'll just continue quietly seething.
In lighter news, I saw cassi0688 at McDonald's today with the cute boy she babysits. I thought it was the cutest thing with the way he was taking her hand and pulling her around. I totally wanted to say hi, Cassi, but I... didn't.
And maybe in some down news about work (when don't I have some bad news about work?), Vanna was a bit upset today. Upset could be an understatement, but I didn't stay around to assess her state of distress.
Borris had the schedule book changed to me staying until 1:30 instead of four, so that I could attend Alura's Sweet 16. Well, we got a bus load of people, and 1:30 came and went. My mom came into the store at about 1:45 and gave me the little, "Are you coming?" look. So I asked Vanna if I could clock out.
"What time are you supposed to leave?" She looked at me as though I had lost my mind.
"1:30," I told her, more than likely with the same look.
"We have you down in the floor plan until four."
"Are you sure?" I pulled out the schedule book. "I thought Borris changed the schedule."
So Vanna looked through and, just as I thought, it was changed. However, Vanna said that this was the first they had heard of it. When she told me I was down in the floor plan until four, it was almost as if she expected me to say, "Well, I can stay." But I didn't.
I'll be honest: I almost did. Vanna can give you a look that would make puppies keel over and die. But then I thought of Alura's party.
"Well, I guess you can clock out, then." And she set it up for me. She then proceeded to tell Courtney that she was going to work counter.
I felt bad, but what could I do? I wasn't going to miss my friend's Sweet 16-- a friend I hardly ever have time to see. Was it my job to tell Vanna that the schedule was changed? Borris initialed it-- I assumed he would have told them. But I wasn't going to miss my friend's party. We had people coming in, and we would be fine for the night, I'm sure.
Live and learn, I suppose. When I tell my mom something bad that happened at work, she always repeats, "You're fifteen and this is your first job." She always tells me not to get stressed out and to relax. And this time I think I will. I'm sick of worrying about the trivial things-- I went to the party, and moreover, I had fun.
Vanna has tomorrow off, too, and I'm pretty sure that tomorrow starts her vacation. She'll have time to cool down and I doubt she'll even remember it happened when she gets back. Hopefully she'll be mellow and cool, and will let me start with a fresh slate.
And if she doesn't, my life might just suck. But I've decided that if I become hated at my job, I'm done the moment I turn sixteen. There will be other jobs for me, and so far, I've done well at my job, so I should leave on good standing with Borris and my other managers. I don't want to leave my job, but if I would begin to feel tortured, I'm not going to stick through it.
There's a girl that works with me right now, Madeline, that Vanna hates. With passion. and Maddy knows it-- it's not some huge secret. If I was in Maddy's position, I'd quit.
The difference between me and Maddy is that I'm good at my job. Not that I'm trying to pump up my ego, but Maddy is bad at drive-thru and can't work grill. She can't really do much at all-- she was hired through major connections. She came in late one day and then tried lying when Vanna called and ended up coming in an hour late, only to ask if she could have more hours. Not to mention that when Vanna called, Maddy's mom said, "It's Vanna from McDonald's! Do you want to talk to her?" As if Maddy even had a choice.
But, seriously, if my life sucked, I'd go work at a bookstore. Or maybe the library. I heard the other day that when we get the Super Wal-Mart we're also getting a Barnes and Noble.
I know.
BARNES AND NOBLE!!!!!
I'm so excited when I think about it. It's not coming until late 2007/sometime in 2008, of course, but I'm so excited. I almost pop a vein squeeling the moment I start thinking of it. I hope it's like the one in Cranberry-- that BN is amazing. I could spend days there-- literally. I kid you not.
Until then, there's always Value Booksellers. I love that store, too. Speaking of which, I need to get out there sometime to buy Shopaholic Ties the Knot. A book that I do, in fact, have the money for. Only not really, after all the expenses I have. My paycheck is my biggest one yet, though-- $199.20.
Not much to some, but I almost choked when I saw it. When did I work all those hours? It was insane.
I don't want to start talking about money, though. I really just want to say another thing about my day at work.
I gave this man his change, and I gave him a couple dimes. I guess he was looking at them or something, because the next thing I hear is, "Excuse me, miss? I don't want this dime, it's not American."
Sure enough, upon closer inspection, I see that it's a Canadian dime.
"I'd like another one, please."
At first, when he said that, I smiled, because I thought he was joking. Then after a second or two I realized he was dead serious.
"Absolutely, sir! We'll get you that." I asked Vanna to open my drawer and then I pulled out an American dime, checking closely to be sure that it definitely wasn't foreign.
I couldn't believe it when he did that, though. What place doesn't accept Canadian money? Sure some places don't, but most do. A dime is a dime, okay? And I don't think it was even the whole "where he could and couldn't spend it" factor, as much as the fact that the dime was Canadian.
Since when don't people like the quiet neighbors to the North? I could understand if it was Mexican or something, but friendly Canada? They don't cause any trouble!
The things you see at McDonald's.
And if anyone pays attention to baseball/Yankees/Red Sox/sports/ESPN, you'll know that the Yankees are kicking the Red Sox's butts. It's so bad that I almost feel bad laughing about it. Almost.