I hate drama

Work went pretty well today. 

We got up and went to the warehouse.  Ron had his own comfortable wheelchair.  I'd brought a folding chair of my own.  I was glad I had it. 

We got soda, and I got some pastry.  I knew I needed pastry. 

I have Moon Pies, 3 kinds of honey bun (huge in Texas - I never really encountered them elsewhere), cinnamon rolls, and cheese danish.  I also have chocolate cupcakes and chocolate donuts. 

You know the real question isn't why I'm fat - it's why I'm not fatter! 

Tomorrow, amusingly enough, I need to get cookies.  At least they like what I'm selling.  I hate to offer a product and see it sit there, unsold.  Then I have to literally eat it or throw it out when it expires. 

We got our stuff and off to work.  The driver was kind of difficult.  I gave very clear directions.  He just went his own route.  He kept saying "Is it near ____" and saying the names of things I never understood.  Like "SSI"  - that's a metal fabricator. 

No, his "SSI" was the Social Security office of Adjucation and Review.  A big difference. 

"Is it near the chicken place?" 

NO! 

I don't even know what chicken place he was talking about.  He kept acting like it was on Aldine Mail Route, too, miles away. 

It's hard to convey the feeling of distate and utter horror as I realize I have an incompotent driver.  I mean, I'm OK with him killing us.  I get sick of being crazy, and I'm saved - as long as he finishes us off. 

But when the guy can't even follow a direction like "Take the JFK exit", you have to wonder. 

Like I told Ron, I don't think he will be driving long.  According to what the driver said, he basically tried to go on disability (even though he can drive, bend over, tie down a wheelchair, very physical work), and was denied.  Maybe he thinks if he gets fired he will get unemployment. 

Not if you're fired for cause.  Ron and I picked up some labor law. 

Praise God, we got off the vehicle with all the inventory.  I said thank you and did not file a complaint. 

I put the chair in our stockroom.  Something is going on as regards the stockroom.  I'm not sure what.  We may lose it soon, but the other vendor's guy said we won't, they're just going all around it.  Huh. 

Nice. 

The other vendor has a lot more "stuff" than he needs, especially since he is losing locations.  He will need to do some purging at some point.  I wonder what will induce that. 

At any rate, I was friendly and got Ron pushed off to our area (a good roll in the wheelchair, holding soda and pastry in his lap).  We got there and I removed my stuff, then I got Ron settled. 

I heard him groaning at one point, and sitting down.  Hm.  That bad.  (see the post on his back)

I tagged all my pastry, and stocked it.  I cleaned the glass fronts and then - it was time to deal with THE BEAST! 

It looks so innocent, a nice little glass front bottle vendor soda machine.  But inside lurks a demonic and twisted heart. 

Basically, I fixed the problem, but the mechanism is mounted on a slide that does not slide.  So I had to duct tape over the coin slot. 

It was a lot more exciting than that.  There was a pocket knife, a mallet, a lot of cursing, and a postal worker saying "That thing still bugging you?" 

I was glad my crystal deodorant works so well.  I'd have smelled like an old sock. 

Tomorrow we will have to meet a repairman to fix this, but we've basically told the state we don't want it anymore.  We have battled this thing for years.  It continues to cause us trouble.  It needs to go away.  A canned soda machine (and we have a perfectly good one unplugged due to power issues) will make just as much, if not more money, without all the drama. 

I hate drama.