I shall begin with some perceptions regarding work, and the car selling business in general from the perspective of the salesman. The most notable one is this: people will unwillingly, unflinching & very vocally demand honesty & respect from car salesmen, but are only too willing to be dishonest & profoundly disrespectful to me. You might be astonished at how often *I* am flat-out lied to. Now, while I understand they are lying out of a sense of fear and, to a lesser extent, a sense of financial self-preservation, it doesn't make it right. Additionally, a disturbingly large proportion have no qualms whatsoever about coming in, spending an hour or two (or three, or four) not only allowing, but demanding my utmost service, honesty, respect and and then not only returning my efforts with lies, rudeness or outright hostility, but ultimately deciding it's perfectly acceptable to respond with anger when I have the audacity to inquire - in any way - about their intentions, ability, or desire to actually purchase a vehicle. Would you go into McDonalds, demand to know how much everything on the menu costs, why it's better than Burger King, and then get mad if the poor guy behind the counter asks you if you actually want to but a burger today? Of course not - but Lordy, Lordy, folks will do the same thing at a car dealership in a heartbeat. You know what, though? I have found that despite all of this, I really like selling cars, and those misguided folks aren't going to rob me of my joy.
On a more personal note, I played a double-header of softball yesterday and had a great time. I even ended up scraping my knee, which is a sign that you actually played, and akin to coming home after a day of paintball with paint actually on you. Let's face it - if you went and played a day of paintball and returned home in pristine condition, it might be a safe assumption you didn't really invest yourself in the game. However, if you come home covered in sweat, dirt, welts and stinking so badly the staff at The Cotton Patch seats you in the back so that you won't offend the other customers, then you can count the day a success, even if you didn't score a point. Man.....I miss paintball.
The temptation to actually buy a new paintball gun and pick it back up again is fairly strong, as is the notion I need to rebuild my gun collection again. It's funny how after being in such terrible and dire financial straits for so long my first temptation isn't to rebuild myself and my family into a more financially secure stronghold, but to replace the things I've been forced to part with along the way. I'm sure some of that is human nature, though I'm sure a large part of that is a sense of restoring myself in a way; to reassure myself that it's OK for me to do something for ME. I have to confess that's been a struggle for me; I think I've had a sense that's it's OK to sacrifice yourself until you have nothing left, but that it's not OK to pour anything back into yourself. I'm glad the First Rule of Pathways is this: Take care of yourself so that you can take care of others. I still have to find that happy medium again.
For the record, though, we're looking at four acres instead of two, so that I can have two things in my back yard - #1) a small shooting range #2) a paintball field so my friends and I can play for free on a field of our own design. I'm looking forward to having those things.
What else? I ran on of Celexa on last Wednesday, and the doctor's office has been a bit pokey about getting it refilled. Aside from an overwhelming urge to grind my teeth accompanied by a bit of lightheadedness, vertigo and a slightly distressing emotional lability, it hasn't been that bad. Oddly enough, playing two games of softball helped, as did chasing it with a cayenne Monster from Freebirds. I think Freebirds makes everything better. I think Freebirds ( a burrito place, for those of you who don't already know) was a staple of our after-paintball outings for years, far surpassing the Hooters experience of 1992.
I have a few new pics for you guys - this one was over the weekend. It's similar to one from years ago I really liked, and I figure it bears posting.
As usual, I feel like I have a lot less to say when I'm not engaging in the documentation of some kind of personal trauma, but let's face it - everything is going pretty well with me, and that's what this blog is about. About the only complaints I have is the house being a bit warm at the moment, and my knee hurts a little, and I need to figure out a way to keep it from sticking to my pants at work.
Today's musical offering is a something called "Return of the Tres" from a band called Delinquent Habits. I make no offer that it's in any way edifying, and it makes me wish I was a Mexican so I could be cool enough to sing along with it. I hereby dedicate it to My Favorite Mexican - you know who you are, chica. In the event it's offensive, I'm sorry. Mi espanol is muy mal. It's catchy as anything, though. Bask in the Mexicanness of the hip-hop. Bask, I say!
Play it loud and inflict the 90's upon others.
Ok - see you guys (much sooner than) later.
Have a Godzilla.
Also this cat.
And a lizard, because it's been such a long time.
I think Facebook and Twitter have ruined blogging, man. Also working a lot. And not really wallowing in despair, loss or a failed relationship. These are blog-killing things. On a related note, I think my next tattoo will be "SAINT" - it speaks to my identity in Christ, as well as a reminder of how I need to act, think and otherwise love on other people. Coming this fall, eh?
Ok - I gotta eat, and Mom made bacon during the time she wasn't lurking over my shoulder to see what I was writing. HAH - thought I didn't notice, huh? WRONG! I saw you there, trying to steal a glance, watching, reading. But you made bacon, so I shall let it pass.
See you guys soon - thank you again for stopping by. If you're not my friend on Fcebook, become one, as that's generally how I notify you guys I wrote something. It'll spare you from feeling like you have to check back so often. It seems abit cruel to either never update or never let you cats know when i do. And pass the updates on to whomever might be interested, too.
Ok - really stopping now.
2 comments:
Sorry, I thought you were doing work stuff with pics. of new cars.
Cute pics. of A.
Not Anonymous
for what it's worth it was not all that offensive. Most of the Spanish made little sense (except the last verse) and I think was in there mostly to rhyme that very cool song about three bandits reanimating and then singing at some random cantina. The spanish was rather, vernacular.
I totally remember that song.
You oughta find you some reggaeton, although it can be far more offensive than that song.
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