"Won't give dimes"

Monday the other vendor's wife told me she'd gotten a complaint that the bottle vendor "Wasn't giving change".  I did a test vend and it worked.  I just scratched my head and moved on. 

Today someone told me it "Wasn't giving dimes".  Specificity.  Ah.  That, I can fix.  Generally speaking, that means the machine is either out of dimes, or the bottom dime is jammed.  If the dime is jammed you have to jab upwards with a pointy thing to get it loose.  Then it will dispense.

No pressure, though.  I heard the customer telling her friend I was "Going to fix it so it won't rip us off anymore".  Yike. 

The coin mech also features a handy "test" button for each denomination, so I can press the button and see if it's giving coins.  We had plenty of dimes.  I pressed the button.  No dime.  I found a sharp pointy thing (construction debris) and carefully felt for the opening on the underside of the coin mech.  I jabbed it upward, took a few tries.  Then I saw the stack of dimes lunging up and down.  I gave it "the business" and removed the pointer. 

I pushed the button "Click!" - I got my dime.  I yelled "Ha!" and raised my arms in victory.  I shut it and did a test vend, using $1.25 like the customers.  Sure enough, two coins, a dime and a nickel, change.  I did a happy dance. 

I got to sleep in this morning, and slept so late I woke up with a headache.  I watched Supernatural reruns (I haven't seen the first-runs).  I did my God Time.  Ron got up and took a bath. 

We went to the warehouse.  I got my candy bars (I desperately needed candy), and some other items.  I had an insulated bag for the candy, because it's warm.  No one wants melted candy.  It worked. 

We had to wait an hour, next to guys from Teen Challenge, fundraising.  They do good work, I heard, so I was fine with that. 

Ron kept giving them "Helpful suggestions" (rolleyes).  I'm sure they were happy to see us leave. 

We took everything to work.  I finally recited all the sodas in order, in the stockroom, on Ron's recorder so he can get his own now.  We were both very happy about that, and the Postal Workers found it very cute to see Ron rolling along in the wheelchair holding his soda. 

I did all that candy, and moved some cold food from one machine to another.  I fixed the bottled vendor and helped Ron stock it.  Ron did canned soda. 

We finally finished.  He gave me tomorrow off, so that'll be nice. 

"A Metro free day" - a day with no paratransit trips, is a must.  Even more than me getting a day away from Ron, we need a day away from paratransit now and then. 

We waited outside in the rain.  The driver went past us twice.  A Postal Worker helped me wave, then gaped as the driver went by.  I told her "I don't really get upset about my mother drinking so much, when pregnant, and messing up my brain.  But I do when I'm waiting on paratransit!"  She laughed. 

I know that will be all over the plant, if they didn't know already.  She turned out to be a good driver, though. 

I think a lot of employees have finally "gotten" the fact that I am also disabled, and we are dependent on public transit - what with seeing us waiting outside on our ride so often.  They get it now. 

It really started pouring when we boarded.  The driver had to take us home, during rush hour, in the pouring rain, on a Friday night. 

We made it.  Poor dumb Baby Girl came out to meet us.  In the rain. 

The Party Machine guy was visiting our neighbor.  He fired up around 7:30 but Ron called the police and put a stop to it. 

I ate a couple of hot dogs and took my meds.  Ron was horrified.  For a guy who hassles me everytime he finds out I'm eating, it was rather hypocritical.  He thought my dinner was "Too small". 

I got my meds down and I'm not sick.  That's a win.