To the Men in my Life

I do really appreciate you for being respectful. Why the sudden note of this?
Well...........let's just say mama's really lucky to have narrowly avoided commiting murder today. Although, technically it would have been impossible, because the awesome dispaly of backwards dickwadish male chauvenism was being done via cellphone, but, hey, the mental imagery I had of ripping a guy's tongue through his nostrils was probably arrestable.
Picture this, if you will, dear readers...a small, inconspicuous Radioshack, run by yours truely, a customer-proclaimed "firey lil' redhead whipcracker". My staff is well trained and knowledgeable, I myself am well trained and knowledgeable. You can't really work more than a few weeks without getting a crash course in basic electronic fundamentals dumped into your cranium. After almost two years of tenure, hell, I could re-wire just about anything (and yes, my nametag proclaims, right under "Store Manager", "two years of service").
In walks a frazzled looking gal holding a USB serial conversion box. These things are ARCHAIC. But hey, we still see 'em. She's also holding a rumpled printout from our webpage emblazzoned with a bridge rectifier. She hands me the paper and begs that I "figure out what he needs", implying some mystic husband. She starts stammering through an explanation, but I politely cut her short, as well, the damn product number is right there, and it's not exactly hard to find product 273-1771 in drawers that are marked 273 series HERE. Ok, sorry, sidetracked into geekiness there. But basicly it was like asking a dairy clerk for milk in the MILK section of a grocery store...standing under the MILK sign....then explaining that it's the stuff that comes from a cow.
After I quickly retreive her part, she has a "Much more complex issue" that she needs handled. See, the conversion box is self powered, meaning it has a little AC Adapter (wall worts is what they are comically referred to as). Finding these, however, is pretty much Radioshack 101. A box, like the one she has, is marked 18V, 200ma, and underneith is the socket marked with it's polarity, which will be in this case +--<-, or positive over negative polarity. Often times it's the opposite, negative over positive, but no worries, or adapters are designed to do both with simply switching the direction you place the adaptaplug (little prongie thing that goes into your device). I start to work, and realize that what I have is an 18v 1000ma, which could potentially damage the device, as well, it may have the right voltage (the V part), but skyrockets over the amperage (that's the ma, or milliamperage reading). Although I have an adaptaplug that fits, obviously, I am not about to fry this puppy, because she is holding it like a precious heirloom and apparently the Mystic He needs this component asap.
She instantly calls him, and is apparently scared out of her wits. I find this disconcerting, but say nothing.
I can now hear the Mystic He who will be now known as the High and Mighty Asswhole screaming at his poor wife via the phone. She actually stammers an apology that she is not as smart as he. My face has now become an expressionless mask as I am horrified that this sap of a gal is placating a beast I surely would have chased out of my store on a broomstick. He is apparently so sauve as to clack away at our website while berating her ignorance, and spits out a sku for a different AC adapter.
So...the one he has requested is a 12v, 800ma.
I know this will not work.
I try to say this.
I am greeted by hearing HMA sneer into the phone, "Don't listen to the idiot behind the counter, like SHE would know ANYTHING"
Wife is now staring at the aforementioned "Manager, two years of service" nametag, as if commiting it to memory in case she needs a defense.
He's now whining about the tagline that reads "Includes one adaptaplug at no extra cost". See, we keep those seperate and just throw 'em in once we match up the size, because there are dozens of sizes for different devices. We note them by a letter for convenient reference, as in A B C, etc. This one is an M.
I'm holding said M tip, as I've already fitted it.
He's now click happy, and has read that there is a multipack of adaptaplugs that has 8 for those who want to use multiple devices on one wallwort. He demands this is the one she request, despite the fact that I am trying to explain to her the multipack is not part of the freebie deal.
I hold the tip up to her face, plug the tip into the device, and as enlightenment dawns she explains that the Nice Lady found the right tip already, and is including that one.
She asks me to plug in the device.
I explain that the adapter HMA has requested is not strong enough to power the device, and therefor nothing will happen.
She stares blankly at me, I can hear him cursing, so I take a deep breath, switch the polarity to the correct direction (because, kiddies, if you put the tip on in the wrong direction of polarity to your device, you will hear a pop, feel a burn, and smell smoke. It's called "Asshole go Boom"), and plug it in.
Hey, guess what, nothing happens.
He now starts screaming at her that she has fried the unit because she plugged in the wrong polarity.
She is practically in tears, sniffing the device for the electrical fire smell he is describing that she must surely have caused.
*sigh*
She insists on making the purchase, now apparently terrified and mumbling that she just "doesn't have his brains, adn doesn't know about these things".
Swallowing the words on the tip of my tongue in regards to her enabling a beast of a most assuredly abueive dickwad backwater sonofabitch chauvenistic pig who should choke on his budweiser...
I ring her up...
Smile....
Explain how to return said product (because it will be coming back, since HMA dipshit really should die and requested the wrong voltage)...
and watch her walk out the door.
I then promptly went to smoke a cigarette, call my boyfriend, and say to him, while uttering in my heart to all of you guys:

"I appreciate you for respecting my intelligence as a woman"

Livin', Lovin', Learnin'

Well, it has been a looooooooooooooong time since I've sat down and written anything meaningful in here. Is anyone even still reading?
I've pretty much just been riding the tides of life of late, and boy has it been one hell of a journey. I suppose this is what makes up the spice of life, but it's damn tiring living the one that I do. See, in case I haven't made it abundantly clear, I have an extremely FULL life. I work six days a week, and each of those days starts at 5:30 in the morning. I wake, start the coffee, rush myself into getting ready and most of the week, hurry to get the wee one ready at the same time. After begging him to finish his 'nana, we scamper off to the bus for an hour plus commute full of wriggling, whining, and general fuss making because apparently being three and a half and having to ride a boring ol' commuter bus just AIN'T happenin. Granted, I've been able to master a few tricks to ply complacency out of Sir Stubborn, like timing a thingie of his favourite yogurt for the switch in busses midway during our commute, and having him recite every colour of ever ad on the ceiling. Sometimes it works, othertimes I end up climbing off the bus at our stop with him screaming in my arms and every other commuter on there cursing my existence. The sitter picks him up at the coffee shop next to my work, and I get through my entire day complete with checking my now drasticly reduced paycheck (thanks, corporate fuckers!), having no time for lunch, only two staff members worth a shit, and then scrambling to meet the sitter at 6, climb on the bus, and drag him home (that commute is even worse. tired baby + long commute + crabby co-passengers = my own private hell). We have just enough time when I walk in the door to play the I Don't Want THAT For Dinner game, pop kiddo into a bath for Splashfest, and then curl up into bed with him to read the same damn Curious George book over and over and over again. I get the remaining two hours of my day to snuggle into Scott, maybe watch TV or whine until he lets me take over the TV to whack away at whatever video game suits my fancy. Since he bought me a crazy amount for Christmas, I got options. It rocks. I love my boyfriend!
So here's the kicker...that's only three days a week. The other three of my work days are pretty terrifying. On Thursdays I go through the usual routine except I get to play roulette with hoping that the ex dragged his ass out of bed to meet me at our busstop for a baby exchange. If he misses the first bus, I have exactly one half hour to blow up his phone and yell him onto the next one so I'm only moderately late. After the 7:02 bus goes, I am forced to take a cab, a la last Thursday. Remember that trip to the hospital I took in Sept? That shit is setting me back 2,500$. Mama can't afford a fucking $30 cab ride right now because her sorry ass ex can't drag his carcass out of bed to snag custody for a whopping day and a half.
IF all goes well I get to snag an hour of "me time" on the bus giddily playing with the DSLite afformentioned wonderboyfriend bestowed upon me for christmas (I am soooooooo incredibly spoiled, seriously!!!). I scared some guy the other day because he realized that whilst happily stylussing my critter around a cutesypoo town on Animal Crossing, I was nodding my head to Icon of Coil. Apparently the dichotomy of this broke something in the poor man's head. Now, because I am "only" working a nine hour day during the four working days I have my son, I get to spend the other two working eleven hour shifts. See, my paycheck got this nice big kick in the nads, and as a side dish, my hours got increased, too. I was originally paid 2,200 a month based on some fantasy 45 hour work week as a salaried individual. I'm now paid 1,500 as an HOURLY employee based on a 51 hour worok week (since that 1,500 is including overtime, how fucking nice) with no monthly bonus. Oh, to make up for it they rebestowed our SPIFFs. Well, teh vendor provided ones at least. It couldn't possibly come from the company who makes a fortune fucking us over...
So, the light at the end of this long, frustrating, time consuming and incredibly thankless tunnel is that I get that magic one day off a week, and I do live it up. I sleep in as much as Anthony lets me, and spend the morning snuggling with that precious little man on the couch. I happily endure Handy Manny and Sesame Street and Johny and the Sprites so I can inhale babyhair and feel little hands curl around mine. He has this ridiculous sweet habit if he's sitting on my lap, he'll reach a hand around to my cheek, pat it and mumble "Love you, mommy"...just because. While he takes his nap Scott and I lounge on the couch and enjoy a cup of coffee and talk about our random ideas for our future. We'd like to move to a bigger place, one with a yard and a studio space for me to paint again. I really haven't since I moved in here, both from lack of time and space. I hop onto the computer on a rare occassion to check the job listings, because quite frankly, I can't give my life to a company like this when they shit on us as badly as they just did. The paycuts were brutal, and I got passed over for a store closer to my home and would've taken a lesser cut in pay for a fucking rookie just because she belonged to a damn clique of kissasses. I loved the Shack dearly, but apparently it could give two shits less about the people working there, and that's a company philosophy I can no longer support. Especially because being a Single Mother is apparently the fucking mark of death in this workplace. I long for the simplistic nine to five I hear so often spoke of by my friends in the normal, non-retail world. I yearn for health benefits that don't cost $200 a month just to minimally cover my son and I.
So, I suck at keeping touch with my friends, hardly ever venture on line to commune with my homies, and yeah...don't have much time for anything that resembles normalcy. Maybe when I was younger this level of hectic was do-able, with not anymore. But I'm makin' it work as best I can, loving my family as much as humanly possible, and learning the hard way that being a single parent in this world sucks and takes the effort of everyone around you just to work. Thank god I have amazing people in my life who can cheer me on, though.
I love you guys.
Keep wavin' those pom poms.