Give me a ghetto

I'm pretty exhausted. 

Monday we got up very early, went to work.  We had planned to do all stocking possible, then go to the warehouse. 

The other vendor just sits in his stockroom, twice a week, for a couple hours each time.  Ron and I have had a policy where I use Ron as my escort.  The man behaves when Ron's around because he knows he can't blame me if I have a witness - when he's the one who verbally abused (on one case, physically shoved me against a wall) me.  Ron will not tolerate that behavior, either. 

The other vendor seemed pretty placid, so I foolishly thought I could go in our shared stockroom alone.  He immediately started yelling and trying to pick fights, so I left.  After that, I had Ron with me every time and he acted like a sweet little lamb. 

I get it - it's not fun to work with mentally unstable people, myself included, but the guy can be outright scary.  I may say oddball things, get a little hyper now and then, or walk around depressed, but I'll do anything for my customers and they know it.   My machines are full, everything works, and everyone's greeted with a smile. 

The other vendor even told us, if something happened to us, he'd try to sue and steal our business, rather than give it to another blind vendor.

Hey, buddy, nothing in this world is promised.  He made thousands a month, coming in and working 6-8 hours a week (and a few more at home).  Great.  Well, those days are over. 

God chose to bless us, instead.  We aren't being ugly about it but we're not going to hand it over, either. 

I don't want fights but this guy is going out of his way to pick them.  Not to mention that tense, itchy feeling I get in my back, around him, knowing just now much he would love to stick a knife in it, if possible.  Ugh. 

I have no problem with his people.  We go out of our way to take care of each other. 

I had hoped "the other vendor" would learn God's lesson, humility - because he has been very haughty for a long time (note to self, don't do that).  Instead, he is getting bitter and vengeful.  Disturbing, especially since we work in literal close quarters. 

So, after all that tension it was actually nice to escape to the warehouse.  We had our guy-with-a-truck. 

I bought a lot of stuff and started loading.   Our friend helped, and a nice Spanish fellow.  I tried to give the second guy some money but he declined.  Very nice, thank you. 

We got to work and I got it all unloaded, then put it up in the stockroom.  But wait, I had to stock the new snack items I'd bought because snacks really needed some work. 

I did, but by the time we left I was exhausted. 

Annnd, it was pouring rain.  Ron was very angry at God.  He wasn't worried about getting wet, he was worried about the driver getting wet.  He knows black women's hair doesn't tolerate the rain.  Since we'd only had 30% chance of rain forecast, it was doubtful the driver would have "Protection". 

Happily, as our driver told him "I'm wearing a big ol' purple wig today!" 

She was, and she rocked it. 

We got home fine. 

Yesterday we went to Walmart and came home.  Then we went to Southwest Houston and did a Bible handout. 

Not my best. 

I handed out 12 total. 

1 to a guy who said he had to "do a home energy audit" and inspect my appliances.  I declined and gave him a Bible. 

I gave one to the driver, who took us there, a very long trip.  One highlight - our discussion of the differences between white hair, and black (racial).  Ron got a little carsick in the back. 

We finally got there.  I handed out 1 Bible to a middle eastern lady, who was shocked when I refused the money she offered.  I handed out 4 to black individuals, and 4 to spanish folk.  That's about standard (half black, half latino) for a regular handout. 

A chaplain told me he really liked what I was doing.  I told him I want other people to have what I have. 

The median was awful, forcing me to walk in the street in places.  That triggered some anxiety which had me cursing myself for my earlier caffeine intake.  It had looked OK, but I was wrong. 

9 Bibles in an hour - a record. But 9 people got Bibles.  Actually we were up to 11.  I gave another one to a guy I saw picking garbage.  I was impressed.  He threw the trash out of the dumpster, collected his cans, and then put the trash back in the dumpster. That exhibited a thoughtfulness that really spoke to me.  He was happy to get it, too. 

If I hand out one Bible it's a good handout. 

We ate and went home, exhausted.  I did put up a request for really bad neighborhoods.  From what I saw, I had a lot of suits, in very expensive vehicles, going home to the suburbs.  They did not want Jesus. 

Give me a ghetto, please.  The ghetto loves a Bible Handout.