The secret ingredient?....IT'S PEOPLE!!!!!

I just got up to grab one of my leftover tacos from Del Taco earlier this evening which was sitting in the fridge. Yep, it was cold because I was too lazy to nuke it. As I took the first bite, I was thinking “Why can’t I be enjoying a taco from Jack In The Box instead?”.

True, JITB is known more for burgers, fries and shakes and the like, but like me and almost everyone I know and for whatever reason…we dig the tacos at JITB. For the past several months, I’ve been consuming the tacos from Del Taco just down the street from my residence and to be honest with y’all, I don’t step foot in Del Taco for any other reason. I’m Mexican and I was raised on homemade mexican goodness, damn the high sodium and fat content found in certain dishes. But I know darn good and well where the quality mexican food is and it is not Del Taco or it’s competitor, Taco Bell.

So why are we drawn to the tacos at a burger place? Forget where Osama Bin Laden is, this is a more pressing issue. Us that live in SoCal and other states like Texas that have  JITB chains in them, know what they look like.  We  pull the taco halfway out of its paper sleeve and see what resembles a baby’s diaper that hosted a crapfest due to Hubert eating  way too much Gerber fruit cups.

I mean, the mystery meat and the cheeze (cheese-grease-ooze mixture) clumps together while nestled in what resembles a bowl of corn made in pottery class with a kiln that went rogue in the middle of a session. The only thing in their tacos that look genuine, is the lettuce. But as much as I make fun of their description, they are the tastiest tacos in the fast food industry. Not even Del Taco Bell can beat JITB tacos, unless they are on sale for a ridiculous low price on every Tuesday.

I’m the type that likes to keep informed about alot of different things that peak my interest. Auto and home repair are one of them. My wife and I moved into our current residence when we acquired it from her parents after their passing. My previous dwellings since I turned 18, were apartments and studios where I thankfully didn’t have to maintain any major things that might have went south during those times. But when we moved into our condo (’02)…a different story. This place needed new paint in every room, kitchen, floors….pretty much everything cosmetic. The ONLY thing we kept, was the aluminum can crusher that sits in the garage.

Like I mentioned, I never had to contend w/any serious “make-over” projects when I was single, so my wife and I had our work cut out for us when we decided to remodel our entire 3 bedroom, 1 3/4 bath 1300 sq.ft. unit, so you can imagine how thankful we were when the “DIY Network” came to light via cable TV. We watched anything and everything in the likelihood that we may need to mimic what we’ve seen to make our place more livable. But I really dug the areas where it even showed how to repair things on your own and saving a considerable amount of $$$ in the process which can be used to help fund our project at large, which brings me to…

…Our washing machine

Take a good look at her y’all. She ain’t much but it sure beats the ol’ days of  haulin’ your heavy loads across the prairie, settling down my a creek and stone washing your clothes only to be rewarded with sore muscles, mosquito bites and the absence of “april freshness”.

Both washer and dryer were purchased within a couple of years as major appliances to be replaced  of us moving in. So you can imagine to my dismay when my wife alerted me around 2 Sundays ago at around 10PM when the washer would not drain>rinse>and spin to completion. (Insert Homer’s “D’oh!” here)

Within a minute or so, I was able to diagnose the problem of the switch not being secured from underneath the top of the washing machine cabinet via a couple of screws. No problemo right? Well, ya can’t fasten screws to something if there’s no place where the screws can hold onto…as you can see. The inlet pic shows what I pulled out from underneath the top of the cabinet. After that, the switch was just hanging by the wires to power it. No switchee…no drainy and rinsey. Can’t tell ya how much fun I had with the wife as we hand-wrung out all of her clothes only to put in the dryer for 2 different sessions of adequate drying, not to mention what this little setback is gonna cost me money-wise but what other choice do I have?

The hunt is on.

After droppin’  my 7-yr. old at school the next morning, I pour myself a cup of Sumatran Reserve and go over the washer again to see if this is indeed something that I may tackle all by myself. At least I know what the problem was, the question was how I was going to gain access within the washer to replace it. I wasn’t that all worried since I was going to check the manual that came with the unit to look for the part # and possibly, a schematic of how I might gain access to the affected area and save me some $$$ by fixing it myself. Of course, Murphy’s law runs rampant in my residence and of all the manuals that I had, not one belonged to my washing machine. OH SWEET IRONY!

I began to hit the net for any self-help repair tips for my no-frills Whirlpool washer. This is right about where the coffee was fully kickin’ in and my brain started to work at its potential and started to think that I may need to know the model # of my unit before any search was to be had. Couldn’t visibly see any tag for any information telling me what the model # was, so I figured that it was in the rear, which meant for me to shimmy the unit away from the wall and scope from top to bottom for any identifiable marks which would help me. >>>>NO SUCH LUCK.<<<<

I open the lid, check the sides from where my lame switch hangs and scan like an H-K lookin’ for humans in “Terminator”. I’m growing quite worried because it seems that I looked high and low for any type of tag…but what about the middle? Sure enough…there it was, nestled in the middle of the unit and as you can see >>>>the model number. In case anyone’s wondering how I achieved that cool paint peeling effect, I chalk it up to years of over-spray of “Spray’n wash”…evidentially, I can’t aim worth a damn in the washing machine either…LOL.

With the model # in hand, I strut over to my PC and google Whirlpool model # LSR5321JQ0. Click on a few links and was able to find the part # as well but the first site I visited, wanted the neighborhood of $42 just for the part, not including shipping / handling. Well, if I must…I must, but then I begin to do more searching and look on ebay. Eureka! After viewing the sellers rating and without further hesitation, I clicked the “Buy it now” button and did the happy dance as if I found the remains of Jimmy Hoffa….wait, did that come off a little morbid???

The “waiting” game.

Here in SoCal, we were in the middle of some good rain. I realize for those folks that had to put up with dozens of inches of snow and all the trouble that comes with it….I shouldn’t be bitchin’. Well, needless to say when the time came for me to actually render the services of a public laundromat, I had to do it in the rain. I can see you guys rubbin’ your thumb and forefinger together on the world’s smallest fiddle playin’ “Who give’s a rat’s ass”

I had a total of 4 loads which consisted of blankets, my permanent press (no…I don’t throw everything lumped together in cold water), a comforter and my son’s school uniform clothes. Loaded up my Honda Fit and I was off to weather the storm….literally. Since the research and finding the part that I needed took most of my morning and somewhat lunchtime, I headed off to Target to purposely use my $2 for an individual pizza coupon. Brought a vitamin water from home and traveled just across the way to a laundromat where I visited before. Of course, I totally forgot about just how much it costs to do 1 load of laundry….a whopping 6 quarters. Unfortunately, I only brought enough change for 3 loads and I didn’t have time to race home and back before I had to pick my son up from school.

So back to the laundromat with son in hand and his homework packet, which I figured he could work on while the 1 humongous load was being cleaned in the commercial industrial sized washer. My son informs me that he needs to use the bathroom, knowing full well that there is no bathroom in this laundromat, I told him that we need to pay a visit to the pizza place just adjacent to the side of the mini-mall where we were. As my son is finished with his “business”, I take it upon myself to order a meatball sub (which will be covered in an up-coming separate blog) and made our way back to the laundromat, grab my damp blankets and head back home to use a perfectly functioning dryer without adding who knows how many quarters that the laundromat required.

The eagle has landed.

With one trip of visiting  the laundromat under my belt, I decide to check the tracking number that was emailed to me from the seller of my much needed part for my disabled appliance. To my surprise,  I noticed that it was en route to its final destination of Anaheim, Ca.

Doorbell rings and my Shih-tzu goes nuts as I am too scrambling for the door. You thought it was Ed McMahon w/a fat publisher’s clearinghouse check made out to yours truly. Sure enough, the mail man arrived w/my highly anticipated package and began to pry the adhesive edges of cardboard under my fingers. Voila! I was very stoked that it arrived in only 2 days and couldn’t help to wonder if the seller was sympathetic to my needs or was the good ol’ Post Office having a slow day and it just worked to my advantage. Course, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I thanked God for its timely arrival. Then again, I shouldn’t be in celebratory mode just yet since I had to fully inspect the switch to make absolutely sure that what I ordered is what I got. Yep….it’s all good….

…let’s make with the install.(1st attempt)

I forgot to mention that the morning after the machine was el no worko, I was able to find some self help via the internet, in regards to dis-assemble the unit to get to the area where the switch rested, and so I did manage to get to a certain point until I was trying to figure on just how to separate the cabinet from the back of the unit itself. Since I didn’t have the part then, I thought it was best to re-assemble it and just wait until the part did arrive. So with the previous knowledge of  dis-assembling the unit, actually having the part, and a hell-uv-alot of determination, I decided to go full bore with the removal of the front cabinet assembly. I let out the biggest WHEW once that took place since that was the only hurdle that I really had to overcome. All that was left was to crawl underneath the cabinet, remove 4 hex screws, pop off the top of the cabinet and gain access to  remove the old switch and insert the new one….easy, right?

Now we’re cooking. I definitely have some momentum since gaining access to the switch itself. Got all the wires behind the clips. All that’s left is to attach the ground wire to the screw underneath and….and….WHAT THE F$CK??????

OH NO YOU DON’T!  NO F’N  WAY.

As it turns out, there was not enough slack to attach the ground wire to the screw. I take a deep breath, gather my marbles and proceed to remove the new switch from the cabinet. I immediately grabbed the old switch and compared it to the new switch. Hmmm, not exactly the same. I made w/the box cutter and separated the wire housing and pulled out the wires until they were fully free, got out my Mitre saw and trimmed the new housing to match the old. Inserted the wires back into the housing and we are clear for take off.

Deja vu and the final stretch.

Ok, ran the wires through the clips, yadda yadda yadda, Bob’s yer Uncle and hooray for hollywood, the ground is connected and I can begin with the re-assembly of the washer or what I was starting to call it >>>> Wanda. As in….I Wanda why it took so long. No matter. I’ve got a little over an hour before I pick up Jr. from school and all that’s left is to reverse the order of the assembly itself. Well, no sooner did I see the light at the end of the tunnel, I had a hell of a time trying to line up the cabinet with the chassis of the unit. Since the cabinet was just a shell of 3 sides of metal, it was hard to negotiate the clips in the front and on the sides….but alas, I got the bastard in to make a long story short.

Circuit jack connecting the new switch to the main power is fully connected, all the clips and screws are attached and I got Wanda back in her original state. Now to test the switch itself. I plugged her in, set the cycle knob to “Spin”, depressed the new switched and she turned like a charm. I released the switch and she stopped abruptly. RIGHT ON YOUNGBLOOD!!!!

I shimmied Wanda back into her spot along side of the dryer, attached the water overflow hose and both hot & cold water lines from the wall and into the unit and tested it with a very small load. She passed with flying colors and I was feeling relieved from the fact that it was all over. A successful part replacement that saved me at least a dead Benjamin from parts (with shipping) & labor alone. DIY rules.

Well, today is the day. It started when I was reading a response here yesterday morning while enjoying my buttered toast and a cup of Sumatran Reserve. Clicked on the link yet? Ok…let me procede. As I stated, I fully intend to address the issue of negative responses on ANY given public forum. My problem is that life gets in the way, I lose focus and  procrastinate, thinking I gotta get around to addressing this.

As many of us do, we awake, turn on the ol’ PC or Mac and are greeted w/our choice of internet provider’s front page news section. My internet provider happens to be Yahoo. The news goes from the top article listing the global stuff and the local news towards the bottom.  I click on the article “Woman dies in head-on collision” written by a local paper near my area. I read the article and soon the responses.

It never fails to amaze me how people can be so ignorant in there responses to any given topic. The original topic that I scribbled on “that piece of paper” that I mentioned earlier was : A theory on “over the top” responses on youtube. But as I stated  in the link provided and in the 2nd paragraph, these comments are subject to everything we focus our attention to. Youtube just happened to be the portal of my choice that I feel  is rampant with such ignorance. I mean let’s face it, youtube is an entity on its own and it is bound to have its fair share of dare I say…extremists or better yet….extremist responses.

I’ll give y’all an example.  I’ve clicked on the vid where it shows that 5 year old asian male dancing his heart out on the Dance Dance Revolution whatever game in a frantic pace. As one who has used DDR as an exercise tool and has done his share of drenching my bod with sweat and raising the ol’ blood pressure while having fun, I could not help but marvel at this lil’ dude hittin’ all the arrows on the dancepad with such precision and at what it seemed like 5 times the pace of what I was doing without battin’ an eyelash. Nothing but kudos for this kid.

Well…I guess its my own fault for scrolling down and reading the responses that usually follow up on what I felt is an astronomical feat, they are of anger and pity and hatred upon hatred. Not for the kid in the vid but for what preceded all the comments that I mentioned. Curiosity got the best of me, so I (regrettably) scroll down and search for the culprit (who’s infamous name has already been mentioned by the lynch mob calling “them” out in their responses) who started this whole ruckus.

Gee, it’s no surprise that it was what I considered, a racist comment….and on a 5 year old of all things. Those of you know the vid(s) that I’m talking about know the comments that I’m referring to. So what’s new right? People spewing hate in a public place where others gather and all that talk – aka “haters”. Yeah yeah, freedom of speech….love it or leave it…right?

It’s not just offensive comments that I’ve taken notice of that have been introduced when reading the replies. You can type in ANYTHING that you deem innocent on youtube and it won’t be long at all before you read outraged comments verbally lynching culprits who are “captain-ing” the calamity at hand. I’ve gone on youtube looking for Looney Tunes from my youth that were all but forgotten just to be reading comments of others that have turned it into a political or religious soapbox. Don’t even bother giving me a link on left-wing, right-wing, Christian, athiest ballyhoo because it’s all laden with the respective propaganda and ramblings-on of such blow-hards. Hmmm. The irony here is that I don’t like to focus on such negativity when this very paragraph did focus on the negativity that I just noticed. Like a snake eating its own tail.

So after you- the reader, have been following the aformentioned (and if you are still with me on this>>>>>>a whole-hearted thanks ) paragraphs, this is crux of it all. It is my sincere  belief that not all, but some or maybe of these “over the top” or inflammatory comments are indeed written only to incite passion and to get one’s blood pumping…maybe not the way like an extensive DDR workout like I mentioned earlier but nonetheless, to provoke an emotion…a response. It is also my belief that some of these people don’t even believe in what it is that they are typing, so if I feel that’s the case, then I don’t feel the need to believe what it is that I’m reading. Taking pretty much everything that’s a neg reply like a grain of salt. I feel that some people will log into youtube or forum and leave a truly distasteful comment and watch the hilarity fly among  those whose feathers have been ruffled, like pirates of the verbal high seas.Like I said….captains of calamity

I haven’t had the chance but I’ve been wanting to check out “Gumby and Pokey” (yes…I’m a ’70s kid) on youtube…you know, for shits’n giggles and wouldn’t be a bit surprised if there was some “pirate” that made some off-the-wall homosexual comment about the clay-clad duo and I’d bet you would go looking as soon as you read this blog, right? ; )

As I’ve stated before, I am a beginner blogger. I’ve only had a few replies to either my blogs or comments on other blogs and they’ve been favorable but it won’t be long until I come across one or a few that won’t be to my desire but I gotta remember with what I am and where I’m at and what I could and will  possibly face no matter what I read or write about.

Everything is subject to opinion, opinion is sometimes ridiculed….therefore, everything is sometimes ridiculed.

With that said, you may be asking yourself why I didn’t heed my own logic when I made the response to the reply left on the link that I posted earlier here? Maybe that particular “captain” got the best of me for a split second but I hope it’ll be the last that I react with anything other that my head swaying and going “tsk tsk tsk”.

The only captain that I want tinkering with my emotions better be on a full bottle with his leg on a barrel.

Hello y’all. After writing a few blogs and getting a little more acquainted with wordpress.com (let alone…the whole blogging thing), I figure it’s time I took this opportunity to tell ya a little more about myself….at least more than what I have on my wordpress profile.

But first, my username : ZZYZX71.

It’s actually a name of a road off Interstate 15 in California that rests North of Barstow and South of the California/Nevada state line. 71 is the year of my birth.

OK…so why “ZZYZX”?

Ever since I was a small child…about the age of 3 I think, I’ve always enjoyed looking out of the window when we’d be traveling on the freeways to scope my surroundings. I’ve noticed buildings, landscapes and especially the road signs posted overhead and on the side of the freeways. I would commit them to memory. I used to be picked up from my house from my Uncle on my Mom’s side and driven to his house in the early hours of the day to be cared for while my parents worked. What I didn’t realize then and from what I knew of years later, it was about a 10-15 mile drive. It involved traveling North on the I-605, then East on State Route 60 in Southern California. This would be around 1974 or so which means no seat belt law enforced. I would stand on the seats so I can see out of the passenger window of my Uncle’s blue with white-panelled Ford pick-up truck. So there I was…looking at the moving landscape, and viewing the road signs that were at somewhat of a blur. I was not in preschool yet so I could not read for crap but I memorized the patterns of the letters as well as the view in which I traveled on Mondays thru Fridays. Soon after, I memorized the entire trip. I loved traveling on the Freeways. Since that age, I always looked out of the car window no matter who was driving, just to see my surroundings and memorize them, so obviously…being on a new stretch of road was very stimulating.

Fast-forward to 1990. I was friends with a girl that I used to work with at “The Red Lobster”. I was 19 at the time. I had a major crush on her but she didn’t know. So when she asked me to accompany her with her Mom and her Uncle to Las Vegas, I was like…. “YES”. Very excited to say the least. First off-I was going to be in the car with her for hours and 2nd-I was going to be traveling to someplace new. First time on I-15 just North of Ontario, then the I-15/I-215 split, Cajon Pass and all of the cities (or towns) in between there and Vegas, which included the first new Interstate that I’ve never seen before….I-40, going towards Needles.

We stop in Barstow for some lunch and head back in her Mom’s late 80′s Pontiac Grand Am and drive off Vegas bound to continue my discovery of uncharted territory, not to mention, trying to take mental inventory of what I was seeing, which was not much after leaving Barstow, just desert and road signs. We drive through “Baker” and I witness “The World’s Largest Thermometer”.

From then on, it was a very boring ride, patches of dead brush on the desert landscape, some bridges, and the railroad that ran parallel to the freeway, but still acknowledging the existence of  the road signs that were unseen by these four-eyes….yes, I wear glasses.

I remember thinking on that trip that there is nothing around here for miles. No towns, gas stations, lodging or food and the other amenities that are associated with civilization. Maybe somewhere around here, this is where the government conducts things like A-bomb tests like I’ve seen on TV shows, secret aircraft tests for our military, or UFO stuff. I also remember thinking about “Area 51″ and the things associated with that term.

No soon after I start having my mind on government cover-ups and alien conspiracy theories, I see a road sign with the words: Zzyzx Rd. 1 Mile. My eyes bugged out and my jaw lowered and my brain was trying to compute the data that I just read. First glance of that sign it looked like it read YXXZZYYYXYZX. WTH!!!!!!! Some kind of alien language?  How is this even possible?????  Who or what is it named after?  Somebody actually put these letters together on an official state funded sign with the little reflective dots even to be seen at night and pierced it into the ground? As if it where just “another road sign”? All of this flashed in my head within the mile after seeing “YXXZZYYYXYZX Rd” or whatever and “Zzyzx Rd” with the arrow lying underneath the ambiguous name and pointing in the NorthEast direction. Soon we reached Vegas but my mind was still trying to wrestle with the idea that a road sign liked that exists.

Needless to say, on the way back home, I payed close attention to the specific area just to get a good hard look at the sign again so I can remember the spelling of it. Now the question is….How the hell do you pronounce it and what is it’s origin? Well, I would not get that answer until several years later when I had PC access and “Wikipedia” to research “Zzyzx”. According to one entry, it’s pronounced to rhyme with “Isaac’s” (eye-zacks) but I heard it first on the radio during a traffic report and “they” pronounced it to rhyme with “physics” (fiz-zicks), so I’m going with the latter….(Ziz-zicks)

More on the Zzyzx name (if interested).

The word left such an indelible impression on me, I decided to use it (or some variation of it) on all my “handles” or usernames for various forums and online video game accounts. It kinda suits me though, strange and mysterious at first, but once you get familiar with it…you’ll understand it better than before.

Thanks for reading and taking an interest.

Well y’all….I’m one of those peeps. After reading  the above paragraph, you may be thinking….“These people drive me nuts” or “….why is that?” Cause and effect, my friends.

A little background on me. I used to be a cashier at “The Red Lobster” , a local Hotel restaurant and finally…”Boston Market”. The story I’m about to share, angered me as a former cashier rather than a consumer. Of course, depending on who’s reading this, it could upset you as a consumer rather than a cashier.

Let’s go back to 2004. At this time, I was a devout “Hot Wheels” collector….yep-the little die-cast toy cars made by Mattel. As a collector, I would “hunt” for cars that would be way outside my local area which is Orange County, Ca.

This particular “hunt”  led me to Santa Monica, Ca near the 3rd St. Promenade which is made up of clothing stores, bars, restaurants and specialty shops w/kiosk’s in the middle as well as live performers showcasing their talents, but my destination was to visit the Toys”R” us store adjacent to the promenade. I headed in with my then 2 year old son who was asleep in his Graco stroller. I make my way to the “Hot Wheels” section and begin to check every single car that hangs on the pegs. This would take about 20 minutes or so depending how well stocked the pegs were, but I would check every single car for imperfections as in mis-matched wheels, graphics or hard to find variations on specific cars that were released. I came across a Tow Truck which I thought could be a hard to find variation (possible rare car) so I placed it in the little storage section between my sons rear wheels of his stroller and continued to search the pegs just to see what else I may find, which eventually led to nothing else except the one lone Tow Truck resting in the stroller.

I make my way to the cashier, reach below to place the one Hot Wheel on the counter  which Toys “R” Us retails for $.99 (before L.A. county tax at then 8.75%). My son is awake at this point and is fussing just a bit from being asleep from the 40 minute drive. The cashier says “A dollar-eight is your total” All I have is a $20 bill nestled in my wallet which I withdrew from the neighboring Wells Fargo ATM machine. I felt kinda silly busting out the “20″ just for a single car since I usually buy several to a dozen cars when I’m purchasing these things, but this particular location only had the one car I wanted and was not about to put it back on the whim that it may be a rare collectible find. I quickly place the “Jackson” on the counter as I’m tending to my son who’s settling down from being fussy just moments before. As I rise up from the stroller  waiting to receive my change from the cashier (which should have been $18.92), I read the total on the her register display which says: Change due $3.92.

I stated to her that I gave her a “twenty” and she said “No sir, you gave me a five”. “Uh, No!….I gave you a 20 dollar bill because that’s all that I had in my wallet.” Of course which was futile to her since I could have been some schmuck from the street claiming that I ripped her off. I started to get annoyed because at this point it was becoming clear that it was going to be a “he said/she said” sort of  argument to the customers who were starting to line up at the register behind me. My cashier experience kicked in and I pointed out how she failed to leave the “20″ on the counter until I received the correct change for my purchase just to prevent the situation that I was in from happening. I told her that I was a cashier and she could have cared less. Knowing that this was not going to be resolved with just her and myself, I asked to call her supervisor over. She gets on the phone and calls him over and within a minute, the supervisor is asking what the problem is. I told him the situation how I believe I was short-changed and he made it sound like I could have made the mistake and that he was backing her word vs. mine. At this point, I was furious because of the injustice that I felt I was being dealt.

Lot’s of things were going on in my head in that moment. My son in the stroller quiet as “Daddy” was getting upset, the line of  people building up and how it was just so convenient that I was a person with a small child who was occupied at a single moment just as the cashier in question was short-changing me because my full attention wasn’t on receiving the correct change.I already made up my mind that the cashier was crooked and that she’s done this before and was already plotting to show then and there that I could prove that she indeed short-change me and have an extra $15 in her register unaccounted for, only so she could pocket it when she was alone to do so.  I regained my composure and stared that supervisor in the eye and asked if the camera that hung overhead directly over the register, would show evidence of what denomination I handed to her and that they should go check the tape like they do in Vegas when there’s a dispute at one of the tables. He said No and that the camera overhead did not give a clear shot of the register in general. I took it as if he didn’t even want to bother to go check. He then tells me that he doesn’t even think that particular camera is even on at this time, thus making it clear to me that there is no video to check.

With my quick wit I told him “So, If I was was the kind of the person that punched the girl in the face as a result of being short-changed, it would not show up on video?”  The supervisor was stunned. I also stated with conviction that we need to get this resolved and that they should “pull her drawer” and count it in the office which would show that she was $15 over in her drawer…my $15.00.  As I said this, I noticed a slender man standing to my left which was in the path of the register and the exit and he introduced himself as an “employee” of the store. He also inquired about what happened and I brought him up to date. He then tells the supervisor to get on the phone with someone from the office reciting of what was taking place on the floor. Sure enough, the supervisor hangs up the phone and tells the cashier to “pull her drawer” and to accompany the slender man back to the office.

By this time there is a small crowd made up of customers and employees gathered at the register witnessing this guy with a small child in a stroller making a fuss of being short-changed. But I didn’t care. There were principles involved and no one was going to come between me and my principles. About 5 minutes pass when  the supervisor  at the drawer-less register  receives a call from the office.  He states to me that they there willing to give me $20 in store credit. At that moment, I knew I had “them”. Then I told the supervisor, “I thought you said that I made the mistake and that your cashier gave me the correct change now all of a sudden, you guys wanna give me $20 in store credit? ” I told him that I did NOT come in here with store credit and that I paid with a $20 bill and that I’m not leaving until I get the appropriate change for that $20 bill. Once again, the supervisor was on the phone with the office stating to them that I wasn’t “going for it”.

The slender man and the cashier return and he pretty much tells me in private, that the girl’s drawer was indeed inaccurate but not by the $15.00 which I claim. She was actually “short”, which just proves to me she can’t count worth a damn and that my claim of being short-changed was possible after all. He then offered the same $20 in store credit but I was not having it. If they were willing to give me the $20 in store credit, then they should just give me the $20 back. He soon came back with a “20″ and asked for my name and phone number if the event the cashier’s  drawer was correct, that they would get  ahold of me later in the evening. Knowing that I was 100% sure that I gave her a “20″, I, without hesitation, gave them my info.

After 20 minutes of  drama, I was out of there….vindicated and satisfied that I stuck to my guns. It was at that moment that I realized that I will NOT be going through this experience again and that I would be using by ATM card whenever possible…even if it is for a measly 99 cent purchase because quite frankly, it takes the guess work out of the eqaution if the cashier can make correct change and that I don’t end up in another situation like I did several years ago.

Yes, I understand to error is human and it could have been all a simple honest mistake but most of you know as I know that customer service and the customer has within the past several years, become an “us vs. them” issue.  Yes, I suppose I could use cash and can make it easy on the cashier and “eagle- eye” their every move and make sure they leave the denomination on the counter while they make the correct change, but I cease on being a paying customer and become a baby-sitter simply because employees can’t perform the jobs that they’re paid to do.

I never did receive a phone call from anyone at Toys “R” Us that evening or thereafter. I’ve quit Hot Wheel collecting since this past June so those $.99 purchased have stopped but I’m still quick on the ATM card when I make a single-item purchase. Why put myself through the possibility of being short-changed when I don’t have to?

Little man with curly hair

Sharing things you ought not share

Sitting on the porcelain chair

Daddy! You make stinky air.

My head is warm, nice and flushed

While I wipe my moistened tush

Afraid to come outside the stall

To face the music of strangers all.

But alas, there’s no one to laugh and point

I say it’s time we leave this joint

I wash my hands and then a sigh

We leave the store with the big bullseye.

This isn’t fiction, this is no joke

The wacky weed I do not toke

The phrases mentioned are very true

Like this one: Kids will humble you.

Maybe the fact that I live in Southern California will grant me a reprieve of a verbal tongue-lashing  from the southerners or all lovers of some decent BBQ. Err….maybe not. What led to the love of the McRib? How can anyone with fully functioning taste buds even consider the McRib as a “go to” food? The McRib was released originally in 1981, I was 10,  and McD’s was pretty much a usual choice when it came to fast food. Also, my knowledge of good food was vastly limited due to the fact that my parents only ventured out to no more than maybe 10 miles to eat out. We would frequent a place called Chris & Pitt’s which was a local BBQ restaurant. “Home of the Woodfire BBQ” is their slogan. Truth be told, this was my very first BBQ experience and I became quite a fan of their BBQ spare ribs. So it’s not like I was deprived of halfway decent BBQ.

I only ordered a few things from the menu at Mc’D's in my youth. Double Quarter-Pounder with cheese on one visit or even the long-forgotten Steak Sandwich w/the same type of bun featured on the McRib on another visit. How many of you out there actually remember the steak sandwich that I speak of? Oops….gettin’ off track here. So let’s see, 1981…the McRib was added to the regular menu and it was the 2nd taste of (and I say this loosely) BBQ that I’ve ever had. Maybe I should point out that I’m not of the caucasian persuasion. LOL, so this too may put some minds at ease. Doesn’t matter. The fact is that I ordered it almost on a regular basis. I can’t explain what it was that drove me to my liking this “abomination” of BBQ. It could be the pickle/onion/BBQ sauce *ahem* combo, the fact that it was (at that time) one of two sandwiches that featured a roll instead of a bun, or the fact that it was a boneless piece of pork, which piece of pork is anyones’ guess. That dark little secret could be buried with Ray Kroc-the corporate and late founder of McDonald’s.

The McRib itself was a reqular menu item from 1981-2005 but I was not eating them throughout their existence. I acquired my driver’s  license sometime in 1991. I was hardly home or subjected to the limits of boundaries where I couldn’t obtain palatable grub. I would drive and venture to eateries that were oblivious to me when I was sans transportation. I would hang with my friends and they would recommend some tasty grub. If any of you college kids are out there reading this, we had to rely on word of mouth from friends or colleagues. The net was practically unknown at this time so there was no online help like yelp.com to get a heads up of what’s good (or bad) to eat. Cell phones were for Dr’s,lawyers or the rich and the phones were much like those huge “walkie-talkies” in comparison to today’s mobile devices that we hold today. Damn!!!!! Stay on target. McRib, McRib, McRib.

The point is that I was eating less of McD’s and more of a better quality of fast food, if you could believe that there is such a thing. So I was eating less McRibs. But when the news came down that it was being stricken off the menu, I had to have one. What’s that saying? You never really miss something until it’s gone? Yeah, maybe a little overboard for a menu item of McDonald’s of all places, but when they brought it back for a limited time in ’07, ’08 and just hours ago for this year, I was at the drive-thru picking up this poor excuse for a BBQ sandwich, but think about it… the marketing folks did not call it a BBQ sandwich. Probably in fear of retribution that I mentioned early on in this post. If I remember correctly, the “Mc” portion of Mc”Donald’s sometime ago was synonymous with non-genuine or sub-par, so perhaps calling it the McRib was all the warning true BBQ lovers needed to keep a distance. And if by any chance there are some of you true BBQ lovers that are indeed secretly scarfin’ down a McRib in the closet or a Mc’D's bathroom to avoid public scrutiny from your better BBQ brethren….I like to give y’all a thumbs up for keepin’ it McReal.