My retirement poem from Rite Aid

I worked at Rite Aid as a Pharmacy Technician for a couple of years. One of the reasons that I became a pharmacy technician was because I was given the impression that I would get paid enough money to make it worth my while. (Wrong!)

When I started to work there I had been promised better pay raises (which never happened) and there came a time when I could make more money staying home than going to work. And then there was the fact that the newest pharmacist acted like a bully, and I decided that there was no reason in the world for me to go to work to be bullied if I could stay home and make more money selling life insurance and not be bullied. There were a lot of incidents, but the final straw was the day that he told me that I could not use the bathroom or get a drink of water unless it was my break.

That was the day I turned in my resignation! Sorry, boss, you don’t tell an American female employee that she can’t go to the bathroom unless it is her break! I did not walk off the job that day, I turned in a two week’s notice. If I could have arranged to stay there and work only the days that the “nice” pharmacist worked I would probably still be there.

I know that during my brief tenure there, I brought in many customers, and the sales increased substantially. It’s amazing what a difference a smiling face makes, you know what I mean?

I loved most of the customers, (and I miss most of them too) and I hope that I made their days a bit brighter when they came in to pick up their order. I miss some of the co-workers, too. I stopped working there June 16, 2011. On my last day of work, I read this self-composed poem aloud to the co-workers that were working with me.

My Retirement Poem

I’ve worked hard and that’s for sure
My motives always have been pure
Many customers I could lure
To this place to seek their cure

My smiling face they’d come to see
A joke, a song, a laugh for free
A friendly call “how do you be?”
Many became friends to me

Grow the business I would try
One more item would they buy
Would not let their children cry
Lollipops would dry their eye

Conversations short and long
Belting out a silly song
Helping others to stay strong
Roll my eyes when boss is wrong

Count the pills, take out the trash
Taking in the customer’s cash
Looking at a baby’s rash
Wearing earrings oh so brash

I’ve worked here now too many years
Calming down the patient’s fears
Greeting victories with my cheers
Ignoring the old geezer’s leers

For me to leave, this is the day
But not before I’ve had my say
My youth is gone my hair is gray
Finally my turn to play

Retirement has come to pass
Finally to this long-haired lass
So put some bubbly in my glass
Bend your knees and kiss my ass!

Guns guns guns

Angry man
Angry man – photo found at http://www.myfacewhen.net/view/3619-angry-black-man

Yesterday, at around 4:45 pm I was sitting at my computer when I heard a very loud pounding on the front door. I got up from the computer and started to walk towards the door. I could see through the studio windows that the person pounding on the door was our cranky neighbor Mr. X. “Oh great,” I thought. “What now?”

Before I could get to the door he used his fist and  pounded on the glass storm door so hard that I thought it was going to break! I have no idea why he did not use the doorbell – it works just fine! When I opened the door, I asked him “what can I do for you?.”

In response his face contorted in anger, and his neck veins started to pop. He waved his arms around, and started to shake his fist at me. He was shouting that we had no right to touch his rocks at the end of our driveway, and that they were his property. (We had to put our trash cans down there, and the trash cans touched a couple of the rocks.)

Then he started to yell “You tell that husband of yours that I know what you are doing in that garage and I’m not going to let you get away with it!” Shaking his fist and leaning over me he continued to yell “I’ll see you in court!”

At that point I saw Michael in the driveway, headed towards the house, and I pointed to him. I said “I’m done with you, there’s Michael, go take it up with him!” Then he turned and started to walk over to Michael.

I closed the front door and locked it, turned around and walked quickly into the living room, telling my step-father Dick “quick! Come outside with me right away, I think we are going to need to be a witness to this!” So Dick and I immediately went outside to keep an eye on what was going to happen.

I had my cellphone with me and I called the police (dialing 911) while I was heading outside. As soon as I stepped outside I loudly announced that I was calling the police, so everyone knew that I was calling the police. Michael said “good!”

When the dispatcher answered the phone, she asked me where the emergency was. I gave her our address. She asked me what was the emergency, and I told the dispatcher that I needed police immediately, there was a heated argument going on between two male neighbors and I was afraid that it was going to become violent at any moment. I told her that both of the men had guns and that I was afraid that someone was going to get shot. She said “they have what?” I said “guns.” She said “what?” I said “guns.” She said “what?” I said “guns. Guns. Guns. You know, like ‘bang bang you’re dead!’ Guns!”

 

gunfight - free clip art
gunfight – free clip art

At that point, I was starting to wonder if this was just a nightmare! I don’t have a thick accent, and I don’t stutter! I grew up around here, English is my native language. Exactly why the emergency police dispatch lady did not understand the word “gun” is beyond me!

After all that, it took the police over forty-five minutes to arrive at the scene. They talked to all four of us, and they told us that no charges were going to be filed.

Neighbors can be problematic

complainingmanfreeclipart
Complaining man – free clip art

We have a difficult next door neighbor, Mr. X. Mr X frequently comes over here to complain about things that most of the people who I know would not even think about. He complains about how and when we do or don’t mow the lawn. (He wants us to mow our lawn the same day that he mows his lawn – saying it will look nicer.) He complains how fast we drive up our driveway. He complains that sometimes one of us comes very close to the edge of the culvert that goes under our driveway, saying that we will crush the culvert and that will cause the ditch to overflow.

He complains about where we put our trash cans for pick-up (at the end of our driveway on the shoulder of the road, on state property, where the trash company told us to put them.) He complains that we don’t trim the weeds from the ditch beside the road (the state’s property, not ours.)

He complained to the County for having Lori’s rented storage trailer in the back yard (which apparently is a violation of County code.) After receiving a letter from the County telling me that someone had complained, I had to spend $25,000 to build a garage in the back yard so we could get rid of the trailer.

Recently someone poured sugar into the fuel tank and crank case of our really expensive commercial lawn tractor that we brought with us from Maine, and we had to take it to a repair shop. We can’t prove who did that, but we have our suspicions – we have not had any problems with anyone else since we moved here…..