I might be dead

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This came up when I Googled “dado joint.”  I have no idea.

Sitting very near to me is a pile of paper, about an inch high, that I will need to absorb to some as-yet unclear degree in order to pass an examination on Friday.  The test is going to take two fucking hours, and right now I have not the slightest idea what they think is going to take that long.  I am and always have been a fast test-taker, so I expect this to take no more than twenty minutes.  In theory, I ought to be studying at the moment.

I’m going to save it for tomorrow.  I haven’t had a good old-fashioned cramming session in a few years.  We’ll see if I’m still any good at it.

A shocking admission: despite my exhaustion, this has been a worthwhile trip, and there is nothing happening tomorrow that makes me think it’s likely that I’ll change my mind.  As a lifelong educator the notion that professional development and/or training might not be personally insulting, much less actually useful, is almost unprecedented.  Meeting with vendors is great.  Granted, they’re all salesmen too and thus hucksters to some degree or another, but I’m actually learning shit.

Oh, and there’s HGTV on the hotel room TV, so you know how I’m really spending my evenings, right?


Also, people who live nearby are posting on Facebook that the local weather services are muttering about a foot of snow on Friday.  If the world suddenly ends you know why.  Good luck, thanks for all the fish, and all that.

I’m not dead yet

Jesus, I thought doing cons led to long days.  I’m dead exhausted right now.  The good news is that the company is not wasting their money or my time, and we are being well fed.  I have no real complaints other than I’m not at home and not asleep.

Also, Denver is very flat, which surprised me, and seems to consist entirely of warehouses and factories.  It may be that I’m in the wrong part of town but there are a lot of goddamn warehouses and factories.  We’re pretty much confined to the hotel at all times so there’s been no real opportunity to sightsee and that’s unlikely to change.

“Why are there no pictures of the mountains, Luther?” you might be thinking.  Well, it’s because so far the only time I’ve seen them has been while I’ve been in a van with ten other people and that does not lead to prime photography opportunities.

Sleep now.

The View from my Hotel Window: Denver edition

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Well, la-di-fuckin’-da, Denver.  I’m not even convinced you exist yet.  On the plus side I’m apparently already The Guy Who Brought Painkillers, so everyone is coming to me for help since the air here isn’t fit for humans to breathe.

Dinner had better be delicious.  I have been up since 5 am and it’s 7:48 my body’s time.  I require something heavily potato- and beef-based, dammit.

Today’s inexplicable work thing

I had a customer call me and demand to have her delivery scheduled on a certain day.  I was able to accommodate her request, and did so nearly immediately.  She then got mad at me and rather rudely insisted that I have her original salesperson call her back right away.

Uh.  K.  Sure.

I’d write more, but I’m trying to find a way to watch MSNBC so that Rachel Maddow can open Al Capone’s vault.  At least that’s what I think she’s doing.  I suspect watching it tomorrow will be more likely.

Just checking, pt. 2

200w.gifOccasionally I have reason to call customers that have been in my store but I haven’t actually sold something to.  Sometimes it’s because they’ve asked me to keep an eye out for something for them and I’ve seen a piece I think they’ll like.  Sometimes it’s because something they were thinking about buying has gone on sale and I’m hoping I can convince them to come in and buy.

Actually it’s pretty much just those two reasons.

So this guy came in two weekends ago with his two kids and his wife.  He’d been in at least twice with one of the boys previously, and I’d talked to him both times pretty much by pure coincidence.  He and his son picked out five thousand dollars worth of bedroom furniture.  Five thousand dollars of fairly ridiculously ornate furniture.

For a fifteen-year-old.  We’ll lay that aside for the moment.

At any rate, they didn’t buy.  Dad said he’d be back “tomorrow” with cash and I sent them with a quote.  And they didn’t show the next day, which isn’t entirely surprising.  It happens.  But I had his phone number, so when we had an “everything on sale” thing going this weekend I called him and let him know I could save him some money.  Left a message.  Today was the last day of that sale, so I thought I’d leave one more message for him.

He answered the phone.  I said who I was and where I was from.

“I’m with a patient right now,” he said.  “I’ll have to call you back.”

252-word leadup to this question: what the fuck kind of doctor keeps his cell phone on while he’s meeting with patients, much less answers it when he doesn’t recognize the number?  Have any of you ever had a doctor answer a goddamn cell phone while you were with him?  That’s fucked up, right?  I’m not crazy here?

He didn’t call me back, by the way.