fuck you Glen, you're gonna frey

The holiday breakdown express has officially
left the station and is hurtling through the
countryside at terrifying speed.
There is not enough time in this world
to do what I need to do and so,
I am writing instead.
I went to sleep at 3 a.m. last night - got up today
at 7:15 a.m. wishing I had been born with a thermos of
coffee for a hand so I could drink
mass java before even lifting my weary head
from the pillow.
But, things being what they are (and aren't) I hauled my
carcass down the stairs and woke up the old fashioned way -
one cup at a time.
I wrapped and cleaned and swept up the demon dog/cat hair that
falls endlessly from my animals...WHY are they not naked by now?
Then, I went off to help a friend get her house totally, positively
absolutely ready for that particular kind of guest who is fun and yet
makes you feel almost like you're breaking out in hives.
It was oddly soothing, being there in her house, dusting and fussing
and washing beautiful old glass while music played and her life went
on all around me. There was a calm purpose to working for her that is
absent when I do the same things at home - perhaps because my work here
is never done, while my work there stopped the moment I did.
I felt nearly blissful, and I tried to carry that with me as I headed off
to return a defective CD at SoundWhereHouse (known here, from now on as:
AssHat BastardTown). I bought my defective CD last week, as part of a
used-music buy 2,get one free promo - and since it was defective,
I wanted to replace it with some other, same-priced item. I spoke to
a clerk, went and perused the racks and came back with something I
thought would work. The clerk did her thing, and right then, I had
a moment of truth experience. The defective CD scanned at a much higher
price than I paid for it. The clerk said "19.95?" and all I had to do was
nod and: poof, I'm gone with a really great bargain.
But bliss was lazing through my system like cotton, like sugar,
and instead I found myself saying,"Oh no - I paid much less for that..."
And then, my party was over.
The manager had to be called, and he had to bring his something-stinks
face over and toss his Glen Frey ponytail around and make all sorts of
noises that eventually sounded like this: "The CD you returned was the
free one in your deal. You paid nothing for it, so you get nothing for it.
It's worthless - goodbye." He was so smug I could see his nasty, little
self dancing with glee behind his dismissive,got-my-wind-burn-at-Whistler
look. His tiny, Eagle-wanna-be eyes were saying, "Nah, nah ....fuck you,
you can suck my guarantee..."
I wanted to reach over the counter and rip his Eddie Bauer casual wear
right off his back and light it on fire.
But, I am afraid of confrontation.
My standard M.O. has always been to be nice while secretly seething, and
then head to the nearest bottle of wine for immediate extinguishment.
Since I have removed that option from my emotional control panel - I
have mostly tried to just avoid such situations - or I have moved
directly from secret seething to total shutdown.
However...not today.
Mr.AssHat BastardTown was my last straw. I leaned over the counter
and said "YOU need to watch how you speak to people."
He said "Oh, I'm so sorry." which was such bullshit even he had to
smirk. I said "No, I don't think you are." and I left.
I'm so disappointed that I couldn't think of something just
fantastic to say, somthing so keen and biting and witty that I got a
round of applause from the 742 people behind me in line.
And yet, I stood up for myself.
I had my own back - in front of other people...
and if that don't put the Christ in Xmas
then I don't know what will.

Peace on Earth bloggeroos
bs