Momma Meets Rainman...Run, this IS your sign!

Picture yourself this, You are surrounded by 2 types of people in general, most of which are "Rain Man" caliber males of the hispanic or native american variety. And chances are they really do get their underwear at the (K- or Wal-) Mart of Espanola!*

The other type of person surrounding you is an Anne Ramsey/ Momma (as in "Throw Momma from the Train") caliber female of the hispanic or native american variety. Smelling of cat liter and cigarette smoke, she scorns you for speaking to her.

And neither of them make me feel very welcome in the foreground of my place of employment. And the rest of the surrounding people you can look at as a younger cross section of both of the above... and see them grown old in your mind's eye as some sick hateful old bastards or witches.

Yet they still ask you how the kiosk works so they can enter the drawing for the free 42" flatscreen TV, and they probably don't even have basic cable, because as I see it the peublo is more of a trailor-park than anything I have ever seen in the midwest.

*I withdraw my battle for the ñ, an N with a ~ over it, I dont frippin care any longer, go ahead and say it in english! or better yet say it in some mixed up dislexic perspective like someone i know who thought it was Esmerelda ...

I need to get the F out of here, I wonder if this was wrote to me...

Brown, Shitty effin' Brown - EVERYWHERE

So it was recently pointed out to me how ugly this place really is... by S none-the-less...and he continues the day muttering lyrics from The White Stripes' "Dead Leaves and The Dirty Ground."

It is true, everything is some sort of brown here. they don't paint houses colors, not even white. everything is some sort of shitty brown color, and even the muni trash cans are dark enough green they blend into the brown.

The only exception is cars. And that is because beaner boy likes his ricer to be quickly spotted when going 80 mph in a 65, even by the local law enforcment officers who you've read about on S's blog. I STOPPED- I SWEAR!

When I first moved into this house ( i refrain from the word HOME) i liked the varied earth tones and non whiteness of the interior walls. I bought brown bath towels to match the bathroom, now i want to burn them.

I feel highly compelled to go buy a bright red hooka lounge style semi circle sofa. Of course this would cause S an aneurysm that we can not afford treatment for. BUT i do have a hot pink Velveteen Queen Anne chair i inherited hears ago i could bring out into the mail area of the house just to look at and LAUGH OUT LOUD about! I'm also feeling a deep need to go dye my hair of the same color, just to show i do not belong here.

Light Duty vs. Unpaid Leave

I'll take the light duty.

So after the negotiations and discussions with various management, a position of light duty has been arranged for me so that i can work while i am dealing with tendinitis.

The pit is the only department that does NOT have a light duty position at this casino. So I have coincidentally been given a position as Poker Room Cashier.

S is a Poker Room supervisor there as you probably know, and so far I am not allowed to work there the same days he does, and he only works 3 days a week, so i work the other 4 and am scheduled 10-hour shifts.

Last night was the 1st night of this for me. And I have a bit of casino cage cashier experience from when i 1st moved to Vegas, at the Western on Fremont Street. Ya I know that was a bad choice, but a story for another time too.

So I was familiar with how to handle the drawer and I only had to learn a few things on the computer. It was all pretty fairly easy.

Given the option to stay in this position long term i might take it. I wish there was a way to have days off with S tho. I guess if this becomes a permanent thing, we might be able to work it out.

I just have to learn to listen for the dealers when they call out for chips. I don't always hear it, so maybe after a few shifts i will hear it naturally.

In the mean time, last night a few co-workers from the pit wandered in to play and or to visit. Everyone seems to know already that "I'm not allowed to work in the pit until I'm 100%" and since some cases of tendinitis are chronic, I may not get to go back....

All I can say is let's wait and see what happens, I may just go back to Vegas in the long-run!

11th Grade, all over again

I was talking to my Mother, about how things are at my new job and i compared it to my Junior year of High School.

You see there was this teacher who had her head so far up her ass, she couldn't recognize a good paper for what it was worth and turned it in to the school board, as slander. It was about a failure to communicate with people who only saw things their way, who could not see things objectively.

She threatened to fail me. So my mother and I convinced the school board to have a different english teacher read and grade the paper objectively.

My opening line to the paper was a quote, from a movie:

What we've got here is... failure to communicate.
Some men you just can't reach. So you get what we had here last week,
which is the way he wants it... well, he gets it.
I don't like it any more than you men.

The movie was, if you do not know, Cool Hand Luke.

Anyway, So I feel very similar conflicts within my work environment and my supervisors here.
I'm with-holding detail as I am cautious they might find and read this.

But much like going to the school board, I am taking similar actions in the work place now.



Not to mention this whole place is full of all the immature behaviors of a high school. Especially Cliques!