Je Deteste le Dial-Up

Hooray for ignoring Blogger for a month plus a few days! During this time people at work have calmed down, Tipp City showed me why everyone calls it Tipp Shitty, I got some new wheels (in more than one way), the stupid Cardinals won the World Series, I found a sobriety checkpoint, and the Browns won two games.

Further Explanations:

Tipp City
Tipp City has, at two different times, annoyed the hell out of me. Last week their high school cross country team and all of the other people associated with it came in without bothering to make any kind of reservation or even say "Hey, we've got about 75 people here, is there enough space?" It's not really a big deal, we have enough space. It's just nice to know that tons of people might be coming.

Yesterday their high school marching band came in. They were kind enough to call in their reservation two weeks ahead of time. Hooray for that! However, they said 200 people. That's a lot, and it's irritating, but we can handle 200 people (if they are wise enough to realize that it takes a while to make pizzas for 200 people, which they weren't). However, they underestimated by about 150 people, which brings us awfully close to our maximum capacity if it doesn't take us over. Somebody (probably pissed about the hour they were going to have to wait for their pizza) called the fire department and complained about the number of people in the building. So, we have 350 people when we were told 200, we can't close the store to other customers, so who knows how many people we actually have, everybody's running around like crazy trying to find all the orders (because many people called them in early), Tony's dealing with the fire chief and can't find anything that says what our official capacity is because it is brilliantly not posted anywhere in the building, and everybody's pizzas are well done because the only place we have to set them when they come off the conveyor is in the stone ovens. Yay planning!

At some point some bus driver lady walks into the kitchen telling me that she wants to pick up the bus drivers' pizzas. I told her I'm sorry but she'd have to wait in line like everybody else. She looked irritated and got in line. Once she got though the line she told Ashley that the bus drivers got free pizza, Ashley told her no, so got pissy, I went and told her no, she told me we always do it, I told her we have never done that, and she says "But they do it for us all the time here." I said, "No one said anything to me about free pizzas for bus drivers and I can't do that if no one told me I could." She gets all huffy puffy and says, "Fine! Just give me two of the pizzas, then!" Which we did and that was that.

Tony got to deal with the man who was telling our bartenders how he was going to kick someone's ass because it was taking so long to get his pizza. Apparently he didn't see the other 350 people in front of him.

New Wheels
The first way I got new wheels was actually buying new tires because two of the Corsica's blew out within a week of each other. We figured it was about time the thing got new tires.

The second way I got new wheels was buying a new car. It's a beautiful Cobalt. It's blue. Chevy calls it Laser Blue, though, which sounds pretty cool. Also, if you are in the Dayton area and want a new car, don't go to Martin Chevrolet. They are jerks. They didn't tell me anything about the cars I looked at, tried to tell me that 37,000 miles isn't that many for a 2 year old car (that they were selling for more than a brand new one everywhere else), and the guy behind the desk was ultra rude to me when all I was talking to him about was what color car I might like. I did not get a car from them. I got it from Joe Johnson in Troy. They were much nicer. And they had the exact car I wanted. Hooray!

Sobriety Checkpoint
Saturday (technically Sunday, since it was 2 AM), while driving home after dinner and Soft Rock, I discovered a sobriety checkpoint. All I saw, though, were flashing lights, all the cars in front of me stopping, and no cars coming toward me. I figured it was a wreck, so my brilliant ass pulls into a driveway and turns around, a highly suspicious move. As soon as I turn around the police come after me. The woman comes up to my car and says, "Hi, I'm so and so from Clay Township police. Why were you, uh, uh..." and I said, "Turning around?" and she said, "Yes." I told her that I thought it was a wreck and I didn't want to get stuck in it. She said that it was a sobriety checkpoint. She asked me if I had been drinking and I said "Yeah, about three hours ago." She said, "How many did you have?" I said, "One" which isn't entirely true, but I only had about half of the rum and coke and the amaretto sour hardly counts, as it was nearly all sour. Anyway, she responds with, "Oh, the infamous one," at which point I nearly explode with rage. She does the follow my finger with your eyes test and apparently my eyes were quite shaky, so she went back to her car to run my license and all that good stuff, called over another cop, and made me get out of my car, do the eye thing again, which I guess they were still shaky, but she didn't say anything to me. Then she made me stand on one foot and count to 30 and walk in a straight line and turn around and such. I did all those just fine (because I was not inebriated). Miss Police told me I could go back to my car and I asked her if my eyes could be bouncy because I'm tired and she said, "Yeah, that could do it." I said, "Oh, okay, because I am exhausted." I wanted to ask her exactly how reliable that test is, then, at 2 in the morning, but I figured I should just go.