Never Trust a Car Salesman

On Saturday I bought my very first brand new car.

Brand New!!

When I drove off the lot I had 9 miles on the odometer, a full tank of gas, and a payment for the next five years..... But I had the excitement of owning my very first new car.

The excitement has quickly faded, I must say. I'm currently in a state of anger over the fact that I am unable to get ANYONE at the dealership to actually answer the phone. Oh yes, they promise you the moon and the stars to get you behind the wheel of one of their vehicles, but once that sale is complete, they vanish into the night.

So, you may be wondering, just why in the heck would I be so angry that I can't get in touch with a soul at this dealership?

Let me tell you....

I hop into my new car this morning, start her up, and begin to back out of the driveway. That's when I notice the 'check engine' light has appeared.

Thinking to myself, now, why in the heck would the check engine light come on, and stay on, when I have only 143 miles on this car, I decide I had better call the salesman and inquire.

So, I get to work and pull out the business card I received on Saturday, the card of the salesman who emphatically requested I use in any event that required contact with the dealership.

I call.

I am appalled to find out the number listed as the salesman's direct dial does not even belong to him! Thinking perhaps I have called the wrong number, I call back again. Nope. I had the correct number, his business card is incorrect. I leave a message, hoping for some sort of response.

Nothing.

Several hours have now passed by, and, not a single response. So, I call the number listed on their website. Again, I receive voice mail. Again I leave another message. No response.

I'm fairly ticked now.

I can't wait to get this asshole's customer service survey in the mail, the one he had mentioned 6 times, the one he had literally asked me if I could respond with all 10's on.

Vindictive, perhaps.

But, what in the hell ever happened to courteous customer service AFTER the sale??

Who's that coworker?

I have decided to dedicate today's coworker to the innocent bystander who happened to catch Julie, Sandy, Dave, and I while we were up to no good.

Bob.

Because the days, these days, are increasingly longer with nothing to fill them, we are left to our own devices to keep ourselves busy.

This isn't a good thing.......

Sandy, Julie, and I were chatting at my desk when Dave approaches, loudly exclaiming "I'm going to be a Bob today...." and laughs. What Dave is insinuating is, he is going to fill his day with meaningless conversation and surf the net all day like Bob, the irritating new guy. (Not the Bob, however, who happens to be the subject of todays post.)

This is not how the comment was interpreted, however.

"You do know what a 'Bob' is Dave, don't you?" Sandy is laughing, her mind is in the gutter. Naturally, Julie and I are right there with her.

"No," Dave replies, his interest piqued.

"A battery operated boyfriend, silly," by now, we are all laughing, Dave is red faced.

Julie has exited her seat to put a way a print so Dave sits in her chair and pretends to be modest. Seeing that Dave has decided to sit in her seat, Julie returns back to her chair and sits on Dave's lap, asking if he'll be her 'Bob'.

It was at this very point that Bob, the innocent bystander who happened to be on the other side of the wall listening to our entire conversation, decides to pop his head around the corner to see exactly what the heck we were up to.

The expression on his face was priceless.

Here we are, Julie is sitting on Dave's lap, Dave's face is beat red, I'm laughing my head off, and Sandy is deep in a story about a sex toy party she had attended where she had seen the biggest dildo in her life.

"I'll tell you what, when God made me, he put in an energizer," turning on his heel, Bob smiles and walks away.

I have to say, I'm going to miss this place and the action that happens when it closes.

Envy

I am envious of the women who have husbands who come home to them each night. Envious they know they are appreciated, they know they are wanted.

I would give anything to be one of those women who are envied by women like me.

Who's that coworker?

Why, it's none other than Sandy, my other partner in crime!

Sandy and I go way back, actually, 9 years to be exact. I sit here and think about how we both started out, working together in material stores as kit pullers.

Little did I know back then that I would one day end up being her manager.

Sandy has been one of my best allies as well as the one person I've gotten into the most mischief with. I'm sure, if you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you may recall the post where I pointed out how we had 'accidentally' discovered that if you put acetone in a styrofoam cup the cup would totally disappear. (Yes, this would be the post where I had described how I had asked Sandy to steal some acetone from the conformal coat room so I could remove the nail polish I was currently sporting and paint my nails, mid day, during work hours, with a new color.)

I will definitely miss our antics and schenanigans.

My Insecurity

It bothers me that most women do not like me. For whatever the reason, I am a blight on society, a social pariah in the eyes of my own kind.

It makes me sad.

Yesterday was Charlie's 50th birthday party and I spent almost the entire party making small talk with his various male friends and coworkers, treated like an outcast by the huddled clique of women who had congregated on my front lawn.

MY FRONT LAWN!

The highlight of my pathetic and pitiful evening was when Steve happened to drive past my house and see Dave and I talking on the front lawn, prompting him to stop and crash the party just to say Hi.

Yes, that's right, a former coworker who now lives in Grand Rapids, who totally happened by the house on accident, can stop and crash a party just to say Hi and people who have been sitting and eating and surrounding me all evening can't give me the time of day.

Something is drastically wrong with this picture.

Who's that coworker?

Because my time at work is coming to a close, I've decided to dedicate a few posts to some of my favorite and most memorable coworkers. Some of the names may ring a bell from posts of the past, some may be first introductions to people I've seen and worked with throughout most of my 11 years here. Either way, they have stood out to me for their own unique reasons and will undoubtedly be remembered.

(I only wish I had chosen to do this earlier, several people have already left for the promise of a new future.)

I find it only fitting I start with Julie, my partner in crime. From the Monday and Friday look outs for the Water Boy to our daily chat sessions, she will definitely be one of the people I miss most.

I'll never forget the day I met Julie, 5 years ago. Sandy had come up to me, freaked out, holding a piece of paper with a temporary employees name on it telling me she was certain this guy was a terrorist. Julie and Sandy had been friends, and Julie had been watching this guy, scoping him out, positive he was one of the wanted terrorists.

So I researched his name on the internet.

Sure enough, the name pops up as a terrorist wanted for murder and bombing and a link took me directly to an FBI site. Now totally freaked out, Sandy takes off to tell Julie about our find. Julie appears in the door way moments later telling me all about how this temporary employee drives a different vehicle several times a week with plates from different states on each vehicle. She then goes on to tell me how this guy had claimed to be a photographer from New York and had only come to our town to find a wife.

Now I'm freaked out.

Really, if you think about it, what photographer is going to leave New York, work as a temporary employee for $8 an hour, live out of a hotel, and work in an electronics plant to find a wife?

We just knew this guy had relocated himself here to learn about electronics for future terrorist activities. Not quite sure if I was caught up in the moment, or if I was just a little scared, but I filled in the sightings information on the FBI website stating an employee was working at my company who went by the same name and was around the same age as the man listed.

I hadn't told a soul I did this, nor did I include any personal information about myself.

Less then a month later the temporary employee quit suddenly, along with another woman. Rumor had it that he was moving back to New York and she was coming with him. I often wonder to this day, what ever became of the two of them and was he really what he claimed to be.

Is this better?

I've decided to brave it and have a coworker take my profile view sporting that ever-so-sexy baby bump. (I'm having a really bad hair day, so, please disregard everything from the neck up. While I'm at it, please picture me somewhere scenic and beautiful, like a field full of wild flowers, instead of perched next to the dock doors in my receiving department.)

By Popular Request

A preggie picture of me! (I'm so close to being 24 weeks pregnant I'm just going to say I am) Aren't I just the cutest thing??

















Editor's Note : Sorry Jessica, but you totally cracked me up, and I have to add this. I know I've mentioned it a million times, in person and on this blog, about how my boobs have become ginormous. Up until now, nobody has actually come out and confirmed my fears.....

Then came this comment from Jessica in an email. "By the way, your chest is huge! Or maybe that maternity shirt just accentuates."

All I can say is, watch out Dolly Parton!