Ohfuhgawdsakes!!!

I found myself repeating that phrase multiple times in the past 24 hours. I thought about this and realized that it has basically come down to three events. So in an attempt to lower my blood pressure and prepare for a relaxing weekend, I shall vent for you, the entire internet.

Exhibit A: I present this one first for it is, by far, the least funny and most terrifying. I was driving home on my lunch break to change my pants (I must have sat in something... there was some goo on the back of my thigh like right where the chair ends.... erm... irrelevant). OK, so I'm taking Big Busy Boulevard to Little Street, which is where I need to turn, right? Right. As I'm approaching my intersection... no light, no stop sign... I notice a woman pushing one of those tiny umbrella strollers, also approaching the intersection going the same direction I am, about to cross Little St. I think, hm, I hope she doesn't try to blindly cross that street. I put on my blinker. I slow down. She stops right on the corner, turns around, looks directly at me. I think, oh good, we have communication, she sees me, I see her and like normal people would, she will wait 1/2 a second while the car, which is must larger and much faster and coming off of a busy street and simply cannot stop in the middle of the road (ah, and don't forget, I was in a bundle of green-light escapees.... I really couldn't stop) makes the turn and then I can cross Little St safely with my little bambina. So she immediately turns right back around AND PROCEEDS DIRECTLY INTO THE INTERSECTION! By this time, I'm already beginning to turn, so I swing way far out to the left (good thing no one was coming my way on Little St) and still barely miss her. I look into my rear view mirror and she is literally, standing in the middle of the street giving me a dirty look. Hey, lady, you almost got mowed over by a Hyundai, GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE STREET!!! Now from the time I began to turn until the time of the dirty look was just enough time for me to inhale sharply and exhale, so it happened pretty quick. I honestly do not know if I was in the wrong or not. I tried to put myself in her flip-flops and I still cannot understand seeing a car coming with their blinker on, slowing down, about to turn and still going through the intersection. I personally wait until both roads are clear before I navigate an intersection like that. Do pedestrians still have the right of way when there's no crosswalk? I mean, I wasn't going to just stop in the middle of the road and wait for her to mosey across. That would've surely caused an accident. Whew. OK, it's over. Glad I got that out.

Exhibit B: Yesterday, I went to Taco Cabana. Here is my order: Chicken quesadilla, two soft chicken tacos, no lettuce or tomato, one 32 ounce drink. I did not say it fast. I always wait for the cashier to finish pushing buttons on one thing before saying my next item. I'm considerate like that. She then asks me if I want pico de gallo on my quesadilla. This question always kinda irks me because it's supposed to come with pico. If I didn't want it, I'd say I didn't want it, eh? So I look the girl straight in the eye and give her an emphatic "Yes" to the pico inquiry. So I wait. Doot-dee-doo. Fill up my tea. La-ti-da. Here's my order. I pick it up. Chicken quesadilla, no pico, one steak taco with no lettuce, tomato, OR CHEESE. Go back and read what I wrote at the beginning of Exhibit B. See what I ordered and compare. So I check my receipt. Chicken quesadilla (unmodified.... check.... kitchen got that one wrong by leaving off the pico), One steak taco (when I ordered 2 chicken tacos), no lettuce, no tomato (she got the condiments right). So why did they leave off the cheese!!! So not only did the girl put the order in wrong, the kitchen fucked up what she had already fucked up! WHAT THE FUCK?! I swear to San Antonio I am never going back to that Taco Cabana ever again even though I love Taco Cabana, as a general thing. They screw up my order every single time and it's even worse in the drive through. I am sad that I have to break up with my nearest Taco Cabana. Good thing there's one by the mall. Mmmmm the maaaaaaallllllll..............

Exhibit C: OK, this one.... I don't know if you'll find it funny or not because it has a lot to do with my work and I don't know if I explain my work well enough sometimes. So you see, I assign rural addresses. This is something that must be done, believe it or not, with a certain level of accuracy. It's rural, so a lot of addresses are far apart, and you have to allow for future development, blah blah blah. So we've got a pretty good system going with the County. The County issues permits and then requests the address for the new house/barn/business from me. I assign it, notify the county, send a letter to the resident. Simple as pie for the resident. The County requires the permit, not so much to restrict building, but just so that they know what's going on and so no one builds in a flood plain and all the proper culverts are put in blah blah blah boring work stuff.

So this woman.... let's call her Tammy. She calls my coworker Kandy, who mercifully screens most of my phone calls and refers them to the County, which is where they need to go first for their permits before bugging me about an address. Apparently, Tammy had bought some land and was about to move her mobile home onto the land. She went to the post office and they requested that she contact me to make sure it was a valid address (I hope I don't give too much away when I tell you right off.... it wasn't). Tammy did not take this well because she already supposedly had an address. It was on her contract. It was legal and binding. Or..... was it? So Kandy confirms the location of the lot and tries to refer her to the County for a permit. She says, "My name is Tammy Smith... can you check to see if my builder filed for it?" Kandy informs her that no she cannot check because you do not file permits in this office. Would you like the number for the County? Tammy: "But why can't you make it valid? It's been the address for years." Kandy: "Because that is not the correct address. You have to get your permit first and then we will assign you an address." The conversation goes on and on like this for at least 10 minutes, all the while Kandy is trying to steer this woman over to the County. Finally, she gives up and decides that she wants to talk it over with me before advising Tammy any further. So Kandy asks her, "I'd like to talk this over with Dianna, who assigns the addresses. Can I get your phone number so we can call you back?" Tammy: ".......... Oh. I don't know my phone number." This is where we sort of start to think that maybe Tammy ain't the brightest. Kandy: "OK Tammy. Can you call back in about 20 minutes, then?" Tammy (in awe and wonder): "........How did you know my name?" Kandy: *smacks head repeatedly* "Ma'am. You told me your name when you were asking me to look for your permits." In reality, she'd told Kandy her name about four times already. OK, short term memory problems here......

So then I get a phone call from Keith. Keith is the cosigner. I can hear the dip in Keith's lip. Please couple that with the biggest Texan accent you can fathom. "Permit? I don't need no permission for nothin, I just go n' do it!" Me (fighting back the urge to congratulate him snarkily): "Well, sir. If you don't get your permit, I can't give you an address." Keith: "We done got our address! Why cain't ya just tell the post office here that it's good?" Me: "Uh.... because it's not?"

Let's pause here and fill you in. They were using an odd number on the even side of the street... big no-no. The lot in question actually already had an address (an even one), but hell if I was going to give that out without a permit. Whoever had that lot before had obviously made up the address... and poorly, at that.

Keith: *talks in circles and says everything I've told you about five more times*
Me: *doodles whilst repeating herself about five more times*
Me: Sir, would you like the number to the County? They can tell you whether you need a permit or not and if you don't need one, they'll call me and you'll have your correct address in about ten seconds.
Keith: No, I don't wanna talk to the County.
Me: *perplexed seeing as I just told him exactly how to solve his problem*
Keith: I'll have my builder call you.
Me: Um. OK.
*click*

Builder calls. Thankfully, he seems to have some working brain cells. I explain the permitting/addressing process to him. He says he understands and takes down the number for the County. Yay! Success!!! .....Or is it?

Today I get a phone call from TJ. I have no idea the relation to these people, but he is very concerned as to why they can't just use the odd number. OHFUHGAWDSAKES!!! Go back and talk to the OTHER THREE PEOPLE that this has been explained to AT LENGTH within the past 24 hours! And then call the County!!! Thankfully, TJ takes the number and very politely thanks me for my help.

WHEW!

And now the weekend can begin. I have some good news for you too, but honestly, I think I need another post for that since I'm not sure how many people who actually started this thing finished it. And people? It's Friday and we need good news. Venting. Venting good. Ooh, know what else is good? Venti.

Until the happy post..... ta-ta!