Chick-fil-a Day

The minute he heard about it, Ron automatically assumed we were going to Chick-fil-a day.  I was happy to go.

It's pretty funny actually; they use peanut oil.  The last time I ate peanuts, I had a 2-day migraine.  I talked to a former employee, and she said the grilled meat items would be OK for me.  I don't have an allergy, I guess it would be an intolerance. so I was fine.

I am also not a fan of chicken.  I just don't like it much.

However, after Ron made the trip, and then told me about it - he always consults me first, so it's indicative of how strongly he felt - I said sure.  He was very worried I wouldn't have anything to eat.

I told him I'd be fine, I could eat a grilled thing or maybe do a shake.

We went to the warehouse today.  I took my medication on an empty stomach (antidepressant and antipsychotic).  I WILL NOT do that again.  I felt sick and miserable.

I'm fighting a sore throat, not bad though.  I really wondered it I'd be able to stock the machines.

I put Ron on the flatbed cart at the warehouse and drove him all over, picking up my supplies.  He got some peanut butter crackers (I won't eat them due to the migraine issue).

[short break to trim Ron's beard.  He worked the trimmer, with a #4 guide, and I supervised.  He no longer looks like a "Most Wanted Watch List" terror suspect.]

We got to work, I still felt pretty wobbly.  I had gotten almost everything I needed, though.  I have 2 handcarts at work.  3, actually.  One is a 3 shelf metal cart, which could not hold all my merchandise.  One is a Mag-liner.  It's got a bed about 4 feet long and it folds.  However, it was holding cases of bottled soda.  I didn't feel up to moving them.  So, I took my other cart, it's about half the size of the mag-liner but I made it work.

I bought pastry, so I had to label each pastry with the sell-by date.  I stocked them.  Then I did the other stuff, crackers, chips, candy, etc.  It took pretty much the whole work day, but the machines look a lot better.

Ron was a little frustrated, he couldn't borrow me like he normally does, but he managed.  I will have to check the canned soda machines.  I don't believe he checked them.

I got a snack and went out to the bus shelter.  We have a credit union, in the same parking lot as the "bus stop" - it's only used by people waiting to be picked up by a car or something.

Anyway, I've waited there, on rides, several times a week for almost 12 years.  Normally, it's tedious.  A very few times, I have felt uncomfortable as I was approached by gangster types, but managed to deflect them with my body language.  Once or twice I took out my cell phone and called someone.

Today, as I was eating my cinnamon roll (hey, it helped), a woman pulled up in a car, driving very slowly, wearing gang colors.  Glaring at me.

I did my best to look like a stupid cracker eating a cinnamon roll, pretending I didn't see her (that's what I felt led to do).  She glared at me for a few minutes, but left.  I felt very relieved.

I have to blame the current administration for the racial tension.  He has amplified existing tensions, telling blacks they are entitled to more, the white man is out to oppress them; and telling whites they will have to ante up.  Telling illegals they are welcome, and offering amnesty, which pisses off the whites and the blacks!  What a mess!

If I tried to create racial tension, I couldn't have done a better job.  It's funny, actually, because my husband is black, my customers are black, I have very few white neighbors, and my favorite drivers are black and latino!   The majority of "my" Bible recipients - black and latino!  I have to laugh.

People try to divide, God brings together.   I think it's fantastic, so I won't let people turn me into a hater.

I doubt Ron would allow it, either.  If he thinks I need to fix an attitude he's very vocal.

We got home safely, and I took a nap.  Ron didn't understand I was taking a nap, so I had to get up, leaving a stretched cat in my bed, and tell him.  He became silent and I heard him snoring, shortly.  I had a good nap with the cat and woke up.

I'd overslept this morning, and missed my God Time.  So, I did that before we went to Chick-fil-a.

We had one of our favorite drivers.

It is safe to say, between about 7-9 AM, and 2-4 PM, the workshop clients ride to and from their day program.  For those who may not live in America, the "slow" clients generally live in a  group home setting, 4-5 people, with a caregiver.  The caregivers work 8 hour shifts, and don't actually live in the home.

The clients get picked up in the morning, and taken to the "Day Program" - generally they put themselves out as "employment centers" but it is simply daycare.  They tend the clients during the daytime, then the driver picks them up in the late afternoon to take them "home".

We had 2 such clients riding in the backseat.  Ron rode in the backseat and I rode in the front with the driver.  One of the clients got upset, he had forgotten something at the workshop (the driver was about 30 miles from the workshop).  Even if he'd been close, he has to keep a schedule or he gets penalized.  The client would be back at the workshop in 12 hours.

The driver said, no, I can't go back.  That's the policy.

The client became progressively more agitated.  Ron tried to reason with him until I said "Disengage".  He understood immediately and shut up.

The client did not.  He became very restless and all of a sudden, he hit the driver.  It was so loud even Ron could hear it.

The guy smacked him, hard, in the shoulder, while he was driving, and began demanding to be taken back to the workshop.  We were almost at the restaurant.  The driver dropped us off.

I said "You need a witness to this.  I don't think this is over".  The client was tapping the driver, on the shoulder, progressing again.  He said "You think?"  I said, yeah, let me write down my name and phone number, you need a witness to this.  He said OK.  I did.

I took Ron into the restaurant and got our food.  It was our first time eating there.  Ron wanted chicken strips.  I got a grilled chicken sandwich.  Both were excellent.  Ron ate all the fries, they are cooked in peanut oil.

He coaxed me to try one, and I told him no thanks.  I reminded him of my last migraine and the torment.   I prefer curly fries to waffle fries anyway.

Ron called the paratransit company and reported the incident.  They were horrified.  I don't think that guy will be riding for a while.

I know regular clients will lose their service for aggressive acts, I don't know about the slow ones.  It's not my business.  I just hope I don't ride with him again.

We enjoyed our meal and I experienced something I don't enjoy often.  A very large feeling of family.  Everyone eating there, felt the same way we did.  It was vitalizing.

Even though it was incredibly busy, the staff provided excellent customer service.  I was impressed.  The store had a couple policemen on duty.

When our ride came, the traffic was so intense they had to send one out to direct traffic around the paratransit vehicle, as they loaded the wheelchair!  What a trip!

We had a pretty good ride home, after dropping someone off at a Bingo Hall.  I wished her luck!

Now we're home.  Ron forgot to make trips for tomorrow, so we're off.  It will be very hot, so I think I'll rest up, try to kill the sore throat, and maybe do some organizing.

I can always stand to do that.