Budunkadunk in Black Pantyhose - Walmart! (2)

Okay, let me start by saying that I am fan of Walmart. One stop shopping and always entertaining. However, some of the most bazaar things happen while I'm there. This was not a direct result of anything Walmart did, unless they sold this poor girl the pantyhose.

So today I stayed home with my daughter who was under the weather with sinus gunk. However, mid day she needed more meds and we truly had nothing to eat in the house. Off to Wally-world I go. First stop the pharmacy department. Looking for vitamin C and vicks vapor rub. Find the VC no problem, but when I went into the aisle where the vicks should be (which happens to be right in the doorway of the pharmacist) I had to do a double take at the young lady, who was in her late teens, standing at the window. She was wearing black pantyhose that I'm assuming were to serve as tights. Now we all know that tights are a thicker material and much more appropriate for wearing with the shorter dress shirts. And those of us with "fuller" hips know just how thin pantyhose become when stretched over a lilly white butt! However, she must not have gotten the memo! To my eyes amazement, she was wearing a "normal" t-shirt...that was totally not long enough, and the black pantyhose! YES! Virgina, I saw your butt crack! And when I say butt crack, that's what I mean, not only was she wearing hose in place of tights, and a t-shirt in place of a shirt-dress, she was wearing no panties!!! I know the look on my face was total bewilderment! How do I know this, because the lady working behind the counter saw the lost and blank look on my face and ask if she could help me! (hahahaha) What do I say!?!? [No, but you can tell miss budunkadunk to read a fashion magazine!] Ahh, but my silvered tongue managed to spit out..."No, I'm just thinking! Yeah...thinking I'm going to bust out laughing! Even worse...Miss Budunkadunk realized her shirt was riding up and reached up to pull it down. Oh, why me! Now, do I politely tell her the issue as hand (or butt) or do I keep silent? I chose silent. 1, because I don't think I could tell her with a straight face and 2, if she's that stupid....let her mother tell her!

Can't Sell It Without the Bucket-Walmart (1)

Recently I went into my local Walmart, after work, to pick up one item. As if anyone goes into Walmart for only one item..anyhow... I decided instead of cooking I would pick up something from the deli. They have this great deal ..the triple bucket. Comes with your choice of two of their chicken items and potato wedges. It will easily feed a family of four for under $10 and it comes in one "bucket". So I told the young girl that I want the triple bucket with chicken strips, buffalo chicken and wedges. She tells me they are out of it. What? The steam table was full of all the requested items....how can you be out of it?! With a most puzzled look I ask just that question. The clerk proceeded to tell me she couldn't sell me the triple bucket, because they were out of the bucket! What the hell!??!?! I had her to repeat her statement because I was in total disbelief! She did, and then the young man working behind her said the same thing. The deli manager told them they were not to sell the triple bucket with out the bucket and they have been out of the bucket for a month!!! I ask why they couldn't put them in three separate containers? (or was this to simple?) Again I was told they couldn't sell it without the bucket!!
As I left the deli counter and proceed to the check out, the more flabbergasted I became at what had just taken place. I sent my daughter to the checkout lane and I headed for the customer service desk. (Those of you who know me...this is not a good thing!) Of course there was a line, both in front of me and behind. I know the minute I tell the CS lady what has happened all ears and eyes are going to be on the grippe B holding up the line.
"Next"...my turn. Two clerks were standing there. I proceed to tell them what has just happened. I can honestly say the look on their faces was priceless! (along with everyone within ear shot in line...which also included hushed chuckles) She ask, "Are you serious?" I said, "I'm standing here." She chuckled and ask if I wanted to speak to a manger, Yes, I do.
Poor Joe. He arrived with a worker on his heels and many irons in the fire. He told me he would be right with me. As I waited patiently, watching him put out fires, he came to me with a smile and a very stressed look (God bless him!) He asked me how he could help me...again I told my story (including how I don't understand why it can't be put in three separate containers) only to be met with a response of "Are you serious". Now it has become funny on so many levels. He told me to wait just a minute...and disappeared behind a locked door...is he coming back, or running the other direction (haha). He reappeared after about two minutes and told me they were preparing my order to go pick it up and bring it back to the service counter.
Okay, so now walking to the back of the store ... again...thinking, okay, they are "preparing my order"... the one for the gripping b who has just gotten the entire deli crew in trouble. My thoughts...are they going to spit in it...lick it...drop it on the floor and pick it up... not so sure I want the triple bucket anymore.
But when I got to the deli counter the young man apologized and said he was just doing what he was told. Kudos for following directions of a superior, dumb ass superior! Again I told him what I wanted. You're going to love this.....he then ask where Joey was? Confused, I ask what the problem was. He said he didn't know what was in the triple bucket! You've got to be kiddin' me!!! I say this only because right above his head was a big sign with what the bucket consisted of.
After finally getting my dinner, some 45 mins after entering the store, I proceeded back to CS and to see Joe. He proceeded to ring up my "bucket o' chicken" only to send the register in a tail spin. He bagged my containers and handed it to me. I told I would pay for it, he then said I had earned it! Very true. Kudos to Joe for customer service. True story!

Phermones

I've had the opportunity the last month go out on the town with one of my cousins. We've discussed many worldly problems, grey hair, hair growing where it shouldn't, grey hair coming in where it shouldn't! and even Pheromones...(Pronunciation: \ˈfer-ə-ˌmōn\
Function: noun
Etymology: International Scientific Vocabulary phero- (from Greek pherein to carry) + -mone (as in hormone) —: a chemical substance that is usually produced by an animal and serves especially as a stimulus to other individuals of the same species for one or more behavioral responses. We have decided through our discussions our Pheromones are low, and our flirting skills have diminished. This has to be fixed! So.....

Friday night, my cousin, our friend Amy, and I met at a local restaurant for dinner. My cousin was to be the designated driver for she and I (we live with in a mile of each...convenient!) since she had to have her daughter at dance class the next morning. I'm always the DD so this was a good thing for me. But as fate would have it....it's never about me. When the waitress brought us our bills, I ask who the band was going to be that night. It was a band that I had heard before and they are fairly decent for a bunch of "good 'ol boys". So my cousin said she'd stay, but she couldn't listen to music without being able to drink. How lame an excuse was that to drink! haha. So we switch rolls and I became the DD. (again...never about me :( We paid our cover charge and stayed. Well in a good "honky-tonk" there's always the man to hook up with before the night is over...the catch! (or at least in her world that how it goes!) Don't want anything more than the catch. It's good for the ego and lets us know at our age (very middle40's) the pheromones are still working. However, hers were on over time.

We had sat at table in the back of the bar area. As the band began to play, across from us set a table of men worth fishing for (hence throwing out the pheromone bait). Now my cousin had been checkin' them out since they sat down and had eyed the fish she was going for....he just had to take the bait! (pheromones) Now, admittedly, she's good. Can't say that we've not been out that she didn't catch what she wanted. However, this fish wouldn't even make eye contact! Never ever has this happened. But the fishing went on. You never leave your spot when you know the catch is there. As fate would have it the table of men drew more friends from within the restaurant/bar. One "big ol boy" was standing right in the line of her eye contact. This was not good. She repeatedly made remarks about not being able to see....each one getting louder and louder. Then it happened...big ol boy turned around! As it turned out he was a friend of her sons. A "22" year old friend. Neal. Unfortunately Neal had an instant reaction the pheromones! So she is trying to fish the other table and the 22 year old is flirty with her! (the pheromones are on overtime...turn them down!) He's telling her how hot she is, etc... all the while to his closed ears (evidently a side effect of the screaming pheromones) she's telling him how she still sees him as the little boy running around the yard with a towel tied around his neck for a cape and she wants the fish at the other table, that won't bite! But as we watched this group of men, something became very apparent...these were the touchy, feeliest men we'd ever seen. (You can read what you want into that). We read it that it didn't matter how high the pheromone level she wasn't going to catch this fish with noting less than testosterone!

She now had to set her hook to a bigger fish willing to except the pheromone bait and leave poor Neal gasping on the bank...and she did. Poor Neal, drowned by the lack of oxygen due to the pheromone factor. He was just to young to swim with the big fish.

Moral..."The Neal Factor"...be careful where you cast your pheromones....they could be stronger than you remeber! (...and it was never about me!)

Until next time....enjoy fishing :)!

My "baby's" first Job!

Well, it has happened. My baby (21) has gotten her first official job. Which I am not ready for. I can't explain why. FYI the job requires a drug test which is a blog in and of itself! For those of you who don't know my daughter is a special needs adult (adult only because of her age). Praise that she has overcome many hurdles in her life, but she doesn't take let downs well. As we all know the workforce can be a let down. However she has been employed in a Christian environment. Plus one of the other workers has a special needs daughter, and her supervisor has a special needs niece with hydrocephalus. So she is surrounded with understanding people. However, work is work. Now that I've exposed that my daughter is special needs, you'll come to understand why I've titled my blog 'Am I Just Over Reacting' when I question some of the things that have taken place amongst my family, school, and the bureaucracy of our government where she is concerned. So, in a nut shell, this begins a new chapter in my life as well, as if I wasn't nutty enough already. Till next time....blessings.

Work In Progress

I've been prodded to post so here we go. I actually started this blog to vent my everyday frustrations. But they come so fast I haven't had time to keep up.
When I created my title, "Am I Just Over Reacting" it was because members of family...mostly my mother has done some insane things that just blow my mind! So I wanted input as to if I was just over reacting or if she's crazy. Those I've shared my hardships with vote crazy.
I've never gotten along with her dare I say like her. But I was born in the 60's and raised through the 70's when you didn't talk about what went on behind closed doors. And social services .... I'm not sure it even existed. Bad thing were kept "with-in" the family. Sad for me. You see, by today's standards I be considered a victim of child abuse...physical and mental. I was beaten (or at least "spanked" very hard) on almost a daily. You've heard of having the belt taken to you, in my case it was what ever was handy at the time. Belts, tea towels (yes, when popped in the face repeatedly with one it hurts like hell!), wooden spoons, spatulas and hands nothing was off limits. She used her hands only when nothing else was readily available because it hurt her! Go figure! Mentally, all the yelling. Telling me how I didn't deserve to be here. How my sister was the better child, why couldn't I be like her. Thank God I wasn't and I am not! (Which I'll provide more insight to later). Telling me how she kill me if she could get away with, how she'd run the car into a telephone pole if it wouldn't hurt her and my sister. Gospel truth! However, abuse then was almost unheard of and never brought out in the open. Don't black-list the family. Especially in a small town.
I can remember as early as three years of age the abuse. The yelling, beatings the slamming of doors, etc. My dad, who was doing all he could to provide for his family, a wife, who put him down for everything he ever did and blamed him for all that was wrong (even after his death she still blames him for stuff, she's crazy I tell ya!) my sister (whom I've not spoken to in four years, which I'll get to in a later blog) and myself. So he wasn't home during the days and she didn't work. Then he went to work on the night shift. Not good for me. Abuse was easy. No witness. But as time went on I realized that I wasn't treat with love, care and nurture by my mother that I'd see her treat my sister with not the mention the way other mothers treated their own. Of course as adults we realize things are not always what they appear to be, but as a child I knew something was not right.

(hang with me....I'll leave you shaking your head at the the things to come.)

To Much Like Work

This blog-thing is to much like work! It's FRIDAY! Watchin' the clock. Going to chaperon the middle school dance tonight. You talk about a reality check! Some of the kids are headed for the penn for sure. Their attitude toward adults is unbelieveable. If I heard my child talking to an adult the way these kids do,..f-this/f-that... she'd be eating pureed food for days. And the parents are truly clueless. The girls are the worst. Drama, drama, drama! She said this...she looked at my boyfriend...she called me a 'ho! My response is don't be a 'ho and you won't get called one. Seriously, if you have a middle schooler, unknowling go watch them inner-act with their peers. You may learn alot!

Do they realize how they really sound?

Most people have trouble starting their blog. Me however, I was locked, loaded and ready to spit out the events of my day. So I sat down to write, browse other blogs and watch American Idol. (I can't just one thing.)
Now, the events of my day look calm compared to those indivdual who think they are good enough to go on national television and sing! Do these people not have family and friends that are honest and ballsy enough to tell them they can't sing! And have those same people not watched passed episodes and know they are going to be rediculed and belittle? And then when these non-talents get rejected they have the ....audacity... to curse, flip the camera the bird and say that the judges who make millions of dollars in the music industry don't know talent when they see it! I'm a firm believer in reality checks and these people need one. As for the events of my day that I was ready to vent ..... I'll take the rest of the night and relish in the fact that no matter how selfish and self-centered my "mother" is, at least she hasn't gone and national television claiming she can sing.......