Ever notice how it's the little things in life that amuse us so much? More to the point, ever notice how it's the silly little idiocies in life that amuse us more than anything else? Well, this is not as much ''the little blog that could'' as it is ''the blog that enjoys going up the down escalator in your local mall.'' Will it have anything of real importance? No, probably not. But enjoy the ride never the less!

 


In a few days, Mel & I will be heading down to the great snowy not-quite-as-north -as-Canada. Wherein there will be family gatherings, belated Christmas gift exchanges and more than likely a visit to the local teppanyaki place. And we also get to see: a) how easy it is to have Shady cross the border with us (with her tags & papers included, natch), and; b) how Shady handles Mel's family's schnoodle, Sammy.

I myself am intrigued, since Sammy is about the same small size as Shady, and there's another schnoodle in the neighborhood (named Bear, which makes the name all the more adorable on such a small dog) who really gets along with her. Then again, Bear is even more docile than Shady, whereas Sammy...er, I suspect Shady will spend a great deal of time curled up on my lap for protection from that black, furry, yippy thing.

Ideally that'll be the most stressful thing we get to endure down in Connecticut. If anything for the sole reason that work has been giving me one too many damned heart attacks this last week. It all began with the regional auditor paying a surprise visit to our store. Now all my paperwork is always in order, and the auditor himself is a really nice guy, so I had no panic flooding my system as I saw him stroll in.

The panic hit as I innocently asked, "So what brings you here today?" and he gave me a confused look, as if the answer should have been obvious. It wasn't. Turns out that our store was due for its annual inventory...less than 2 weeks from that day. Way to go Head Office for letting us know this. (To his credit, the auditor had the presence of mind and stopped by in the first place to ensure everything was in order and moving along smoothly for the inventory. Good thing he did, too.)

Now the news of the impending inventory didn't fill me with dread. I'd have needed to pull a few extra hours of work (and huzzah for more cash!), but it would have been manageable. The date of the inventory is what nearly scared the piss out of me. It's not good when you're the manager, and you're being told the inventory a manager is required to be there for, is happening on the Friday you should already be 2 days deep into CT.

Conversely, if both Mel & I suddenly cancelled our trip down, at best we'd be disowned and at worst you'd be identifying our found-frozen-in-a-ditch corpses. The last time we were down to CT was almost a year ago, and we haven't seen her family as it is for nearly 6 months. Even if I bowed out and Mel went down solo, the odds are even if I wasn't killed during her "Mel-chan Smash!" rage, I'd probably get an arm ripped off somewhere along the way. Sure I'd have the pleasure of seeing Mel use said severed arm to beat someone to death at Head Office, but I still need that arm for other things.

So yeah...panic. (And not a disco in sight.)

As it turned out, my District Manager hadn't received any heads-up on this, and was as surprised as I had been about her area being inventoried in the next few weeks. And to boot, I'd acquired her approval to take my CT trip well in advance, at least a full month prior. So our auditor sighed, shook his head at Head Office, and told me not to worry. It's tricky to reschedule for a full district, but a single store's no problem.

Now our inventory will be happening sometime around April or May, possibly earlier if an opening pops up. And now not only can we do the visitation, but by the time my store does get inventoried, all of our dreaded winterwear will be gone. You wouldn't believe how much of a pain in the ass it is to count a few hundred tiny pairs of mittens...and that's just one out of eight mitten boxes!

So, bullet #1 was dodged.

Bullet #2 arrived a day later, and on my day off, no less. This one is rather convoluted, so in keeping with the spirit of Thoreau, we'll simplify the whole debacle. It's mid-morning. A message from my store employee is left on the answering machine, asking if I could really, really, please call the store, it's that urgent. I call the store.

There's an employee from Waterloo Hydro at our store. She has a form/notice to hand to us. The form tells us that our store's account info needs to be changed, or in 5 days our hydro is shut off. The hydro employee adds that usually when she sees this form, it means the store or company is closing its doors. Permanently.

In short, there's a chance that I'd show up to work on Sunday and discover the doors were locked & a sign on those locked doors would tell us: "So long, thanks for all the fish, and you're all fucked, have a nice day! ^-^"

So yeah...panic. Again.

I page my District Manager. And, because the previous day the auditor mentioned my DM's pager might still be broken, I spend the next half hour calling all the stores in her area in an attempt to track her down, just in case my emergency page was sent into limbo.

One hour, many phone calls, and at least 5 pounds lost due to stress-induced sweating later, things are sorted out. The store will not be closing. The hydro company needs to revamp the account due to the Head Office filing for bankruptcy protection, and that will be taken care of by someone at Head Office.

The deadline has already passed. Our store is still there. And it has power too. ("Unfortunately," I am somewhat tempted to add.)

And with that, bullet #2 is dodged.

It may be either ironic or just plain ridiculous for me to say it, but I've been rather tempted as of late to channel Danny Glover from Lethal Weapon and mutter, "I'm getting too old for this shit." So if anyone needs me, I'll be over in the corner rolling a katamari ball. At least when I get fragged by the King of All Cosmos, he makes it a most fabulous fragging.



In other news, I've inadvertently come up with perhaps the greatest name for an alcoholic drink ever: Orgasmic Wookie. I think the amusement stems from just the visual one gets of walking up to the bar and saying in a loud voice, "Bartender! Give me two Orgasmic Wookies!"

Labels: inventory is when, orgasmic wookie, rumour control

posted by Phillip at 8:09 PM