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Radioshack And My Balls
Unemployment And My Balls
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(03/06/2003; 04:25pm) - you're fired

i have the prospect of a new job. the wheels are in motion. things look good. even if this job doesn't come through, i need to get one immediately anyway, so, with this post, i declare the end of
my blog. the following is a transcription of a tape-recorded encounter, recorded earlier today.

quote: my boss

tyler, i think it's time we had a little talk. i think it's clear to both you and me that things aren't really working out. you've been with us for about two months, and while at the beginning i thought it might just be that you were new with us, now it seems clear. things aren't going the way we thought they might in the beginning. we feel
that you're not really a positive contribution to our organization. now don't get me wrong, you're a nice guy. everybody here likes you a lot, and wishes you the best. we're sure that you could really thrivesomewhere else, just not here, not with us. it's a compatability issue, really. i think you know where we're coming from. i regret informing you that we have to let you go. you're fired from unemployment. we ask that you please fill a desk by the end of the week.


(02/24/2003; 03:19am) - the end of the month is so lame

hmmmmmm.....i really have to pay rent again (that's a reminder to all of you out there with apartments, and italian landlords) but, i have no moneys. Uh oh. i was informed by my parents that tax returns don't happen immediatly. and i was all, "but i saw this commercial...and some guy...he had this check..and he like walked in with taxes and walked out with a check, and i thought that's how it worked." they were all, "that's not how it works" and i was a"but it was on tv, it's got to be true." then i found out that it was some lame h&r block thing, and they charge you out the ass to do it. well well well. this truly does suck my balls. the government's lamer about giving me my owed moneys than i am about giving my owed moneys. this leads me to believe that uncle sam is either a tightass, a dead beat, or broke...or possibly some combination of the afformentioned. so, in conclusion, i have no money. "well what are you going to do?" you might be asking yourself. i'll tell you what i'm going to do...i'm going to go into debt, and try a little harder to find a job. no i won't, hahaha. i think i'm going to do medical experiments actually. jobs are for lamers, and i'm no lamer. i've taken pills before when i didn't know what it was going to do. i might as well get paid $1500 to do it.
also, if any of you want to buy my brownies, there'll be an ongoing bake sale at my joint for the next week. only $16 a brownie. they're not pot brownies or anything like that that might actually make them worth $16, except for the massive amounts of love (etherial, not liquid, love) that i put into each one.
kisses,
tyler

(02/13/2003; 05:17pm) - only because i have the time

now, this is not directly related to being unemployed...but it would not have been possible without all of the free time having no job allows one.
i was on a plane headed for california for the week....and i had to watch Sweet Home Alabama. now, you might be thinking, "you didn't have to watch it...exercise your right to choose, and politely
decline the offer to watch the plane movie." well, should you be thinking that, you are an idiot, and have never been on a plane. no matter how bad the stupid plane movie is, and it is almost
guaranteed to be bad (and edited for content) you have to watch it, because it will make 90 minutes of an intolerable long journey go by a bit faster. now, i know this is andrew's territory....but
holy crap that movie sucked my ass!!!! i doubt any of you thought it might be good...but it's worth repeating. that movie sucked my ass so hard!
i also had to watch an episode of the king of queens. the only time i've ever seen this show is on airplanes, because it sucks so hard. i don't know why it's always on airplanes, but that's the
third time i've seen it on one. to make it a bit better, i had my studio monitor headphones with me because my "street" headphones broke the day before the flight. so everything i watched on the
plane had the pleasant accompaniment of an extremely loud, high pitched squeal, emitted by the crappy airplane headphone system. and i heard it in all of its glorious fidelity.

but enough of listening to me whine....go get me a job, sucka!

(02/10/2003; 01:22am) - the diet

i'll outline what i ate today, and then add who the food was from

breakfast:
2 large chocolate chip cookies (courtesy of our upstairs neighbor who works at a swanky belgian bakery)

lunch:
2 tina's burritos with bravo salsa (both courtesy of kate moving back to england and having extra food)

dinner:
1 packet of picante beef ramen noodles with half a can of black beans (both courtesy of wolfe who went shopping tonight while doing his laundry)

dessert:
3 mini twix (also courtesy of kate's movement)

i may or may not have another snack this evening (there's still two cookies left) and i might have a cup of tea (taken from the box of lipton tea, which we've had since college...adding milk from wolfe, and sugar from kate.)

i can't wait until i'm self sufficient again, but until then, i thank my friends for keeping me alive. (and pudgy)

(02/06/2003; 02:45am) - today...today....today

today i was watching game shows and getting physically upset at the results of them. in every one i watched (3 in total) the best players in the game would start off doing really well, then by some stupid random chance part of the game, they would loose something, and the really stupid contestant would win the game. 3 times in a row. by the third show, some guy got eliminated in the second to last round, but he never got to answer a question! 20 minutes he's been on the show, and he never gets a question, and then gets eliminated. i was almost moved to tears. i at leats punched a pillow, mumbled obsenities to myself, then changed the channel to junkyard wars ( a repeat, but a good one none-the-less)

i just remembered that i stopped rating days on the suck my balls scale.
i was getting into that gimick, but it just hardly seems appropriate now in these trying times. give my balls a break guys, seriously, give 'em a break.

(02/01/2003; 05:24am) - i totally have a job

oh man, i can't believe you fell for that!

(01/28/2003; 03:38am) - holy fucking crap

i haven't looked at my actual bank balance in a while, because it knew it had to be unreasonably low. and i've had a bunch of little checks sitting around that i've been way to lazy to cash, so i've had to real clue how much money i really had.
i knew (sorta) that by the 1st i'd be at least within $100, give or take, of the $600 necessary to cover rent. well, fuck it, i was bored, and of course i had nothing else to do, so i did the math. i saw that my real bank account balance was $14.61. tyler thought it was more like $180. he was wrong. turns out a bunch of transactions were pending last time i checked, like the cable check ($130 i thought i had) and some subway clicks ($20 i thought i had) then i found check that i forgot i had, so i was back up another $50, then another, then some christmas cash from grandma....
now, i won't bore you with any more details except to say that the final total that i will have in the bank, by february 1st (death day, when i'm expected to have $600) is $603!
fuck yes, i did it. i'm succesfully unemployed and succesful!
now please tell me that i have all of the control. and that i'm only doing this for journalistic reasons. that i can get a job any day i actually try, but i'm putting it off because i like this lifestyle so much. please tell me this, please tell me i'm a good person and everything will be okay. or take me out drinking and cover my tab. both good, both favorites.

(01/27/2003; 06:07am) - it's startling, really

i hadn't counted on how terrible an idea a journal about being unemployed was. being unemployed means that you don't do shit. i spend about an hour a day trying to scroung up bucks to pay rent. i'm selling my cd burner for $50. i sent some guy in rhinebeck a copy of the scrabble cd rom, and he sent me a check for $6. trust me, that's a lot. ramen noodles mean more to me than jesus did when i was catholic. i've become increasingly nocturnal. i've seen 4 hours of daylight in the past 5 days, and 3 of them were after sun up. i periodically have the urge to "get some work done" until i realize that i have to work to do. it's like i have a cold, but i don't feel sick. i believe that the best way to get my life back on track is to follow the wisdom of the ladies man. i must have sex, and wait for something to randomly happen. (any takers on the sex?)

(01/19/2003; 05:20am) - ode to rent

so, it's been 28 days since i've had a job. tonight was the first time i had left the house in 4 days. from what people have said, it's good that i haven't cuz it's been so fucking cold, but i couldn't have confirmed nor denied it. i've convinced myself that i have been spending no money, and therefore "being good" it is, however easy to forget that rent is approximately $20 a day. my daily income, including odd jobs and pirating software is about $3.17 a day. i'm really good at math, and i think i'm screwed. i am looking for a job, sort of. i'm pretty much waiting for something to fall into my lap, and i figure the safest plan is to make sure my lap is always generally in the same place. for good measure, i make sure to keep it warm with a nice bowl of ramen, just so when that thing does fall into my lap, it'll have a cozy warm place to rest, and some good eats.

and now, my ode to rent:

i pay for heat, and food to eat
i bought my bed, but was given my sheets (by my mom)
screw off, stupid italian guy from long island!
wanting $600 crappy dollars every month, that i worked moderately conning and mooching for.
my stupid sink leaks, and you're ugly.

i don't know how poetic or entertaining that was, but it felt good. no one reads this but me anyway, so on that note, you're so cute tyler.

(12/10/2002; 03:11am) - 2 weeks, and fucking counting

so, 14 days stand between me, and freedom. do i know what i'm doing after that?....yes.
not working.
i'll enjoy my christmas holiday, go into debt, and figure shit out later.
that's why i have credit cards. hopefully (fill in the blank) and my balls will not be far off, or else, y'all might be faithful readers of Unemployment and my Balls, and those won't be very interesting, unless i go completely nuts. actually, i can use journalism as an excuse to not work and go nuts, then all the money i spend while not making money will be a tax write-off. as long as one of you pays me for writing this. offers will begin at .7 cents per update.
take stock in a good cause.
this scheme's suck my balls rating:
0 balls (what a good fucking idea)
on a scale of 0 to 2 balls

(12/08/2002; 02:52am) - depressing and enlightening

a guy came in, i forget what sort of crappy piece of crap he wanted, but i had to look for it on the computer. while he stood there, waiting for me to do whatever it was that i was doing, he periodically grabbed his back and winced in severe pain. he did it four or five times in the minute i helped him out. now, i'd love to make some sort of profound statement about how it can always be worse, and my lame job isn't so bad compared to living a life of pain. but screw that guy, my job is lame. friday i spent an hour (keep in mind when you work on commission, the time you work doesn't matter, only what you sell) scraping old spilt maple syrup off the top of the microwave in the back with the cap of a snapple bottle. the manager was going to throw the microwave out, on account of syrup (quoting him, "because that's just gross, and i don't like gross stuff") but i protested because i make tea in the microwave on account of my not being able to afford coffee. later that day, 3 minutes after i was scheduled to leave, a woman was interested in buying a calculator. i showed her the display model, but it was broken. now, this was no scientific graphing calculator or anything of the sort, it was a normal fucking add subtract multipy piece of shit little calculator that was on sale for $3.99 but, before she would commit to buying one, she had to see a working one, to "make sure it would do what she wanted it to". i assured her that whatever it was she was expecting this calculator to do, it would probably do it, but she insisted. so i told her we had no more in stock, and i left.
tomorrow (sunday) ((i thought you didn't work weekends?))(((he asked me to work sunday on friday))) i'm giving my two weeks notice.
this past weeks' suck my balls rating:
2 balls, ready and willing to retire
(on a scale of 0 to 2 balls, ready and willing to retire)

(11/29/2002; 09:37pm) - it's possible that i work on mars

now, why would i say that? today, a suspiciously skinned man appeared in my store twice. i've never been one to judge on the color of one's skin, however, i've never "encountered" this color before. this man, who appeared to be about 60 (in earth years) had completely green skin. at first i thought that he was being lit weird, or that my brain was playing tricks on my, but the person standing next to him was a normal human color. as he passed through the store, he retained his sickly hue. now, i would have dismissed this as a disease that i'm not familiar with and gone on with my daily business if he was buying something normal: dvd player, cell phone, batteries. but no, he was buying switches, and transistors, and relays, and diodes....FOR HIS SPACESHIP!!! i was nice to him. i got him everything he needed. i mentioned my address, and passed a hint about how it would be a bad place to start were someone, or some race want to take over the world. (i have to mention that my ability to slide that into casual conversation was somewhat spectacular) alien: "do you have 10 mA fuses that will fit this custom holder" sales representative (tyler): "yes, let me find that for you. maybe it's in the other drawer. i hear humans taste horrible. oh, no, it's back in that first drawer, here you go. i hear jupiter's moons are espeicially vulnerable these days. can i get you anything else?"
don't worry, with my careful monkeywork, i think it's safe to assume that dubya will blow us up far before the martians. if only he would walk into my store, and i could subject him to the fruits of my corporate mind control training.
i think that's the most political i've ever waxed in public print. maybe i'm turning a new leaf, or just really bored. i have to mention that i'm writing this post from within the walls of the radio shack fortress. it's naughty, but exciting, like jerking off with the door open when you're only mostly sure that no one else is home.
i'm wrapping up a 14 hour shift which, on principle alone jacks the suck my balls rating to a hairy:
2 tired balls
(on a scale of 0 to 2 tired balls)

(11/26/2002; 02:37am) - i wish i had something more interesting to say about work



(11/21/2002; 12:25pm) - is your job good?

only two types of people go to radio shack. people that don't speak english, and really old men. i only speak english, and luckily, most of the old men do to. it's funny because old men don't want to buy cell phones, in fact most of them are scared of them, and with good reason, cell phones are just scary, i mean. where's the wire? if i can't see it, i'll probably trip on it. and i can't afford to trip again, i just got over my last broken hip. if i break the other hip, my body will be composed of %16 percent metal. what if the cell phone interferes with my pacemaker. what if my pacemaker blocks my cell phone's reception. where does the wire go, again? my kids want me to get one so that they can call me, but i never leave my house anyways, so i say, "call me at home" only other place i go is here, to get more batteries for my shortwave radio. what's the difference between those two walkie talkies, no, the ones below those? can i buy one at a time? do you need another one before it'll work? nevermind, i'll just look around? why did they have to change vcrs back to silver. just when i got used to black, now everything's silver again, black was nice, but i guess nothing ever stays nice for too long does it? i don't understand anything about computers.
today's suck my balls rating:
2 old balls
(on a scale of 0 to 2 old balls)

(11/16/2002; 01:08am) - why aren't i rich yet

so, today was the first day in the new store, which isn't as crazy stupid as the last store. the new manager cares about less stuff, and the new employees aren't super-annoying-lame-stupid.
a kid came in who was like 12, and started begging everyone in the store, including the customers to buy some candy from him so that he could win some contest. and he was whining when people said no, and being all "please" how about just 2!
and i remember thinking "that is so unprofessional"
today was payday, but i haven't seen my check yet because it's still at the other store that i got transferred out of, but i'll pick it up on my way home from my saturday morning meeting. tonight while i was waiting for my ramed water to boil, i wrapped a pickle in 2 pieces of individually wrapped slices of store brand american cheese and put it in the microwave. i ate it with a knife and fork.
todays suck my balls rating:
1.1
(on a scale of 0 to 2 balls)

(11/14/2002; 12:37am) - too big for the corporate mold

i'm sitting here at home waiting for a phone call which will tell me if i still have a job or not. last night i was informed of a manditory meeting this saturday at 9 for new employees. i had no idea that 9 o'clock meetings were a part of my already crappy job, and i somewhat flipped out. i also found out that essestially, we aren't paid for these meetings, as we work on commision and aren't selling anything whilst in meetings. however, they still tried to tell me that i was being paid, but only if i didn't make more commision than minimum wage would pay me. i said this was "bullshit" and that saturday morning meetings are fucking stupid. and that i didn't want to travel for 2 hours at 7 on a saturday morning to go all the way to buttass forest hills queens on two trains and bus each way for a 3 hour bullshit meeting, and i guess this was some sort of problem for them. my manager sent me home early and told me to call the district manager in the morning. i did so, and i am awaiting a call back from him.
i think what sucks the most is that i actually want to keep this job. it's only slightly better than not having a job and having no money. i hate being a little corporate whore, and i know that to keep this job i have to go that fucking meeting, and at least 10 more like it, and pretend that it's fucking awesome. or maybe i'll just get fired.
please send all job offers to tyler@melounge.net, where they will be promply accepted regardless of how crappy they are.
todays suck my balls rating:
7 balls
(on a scale of 0 to 2 balls)

(11/14/2002; 03:42pm) - from box to speaker

i got transferred today to the radioshack basically down the block from the one i'm at now. the new manager seems nice, but, then again, the last dude seemed nice, and he turned out to a be twisted weirdo. so, again, there's only one chair in the whole fucking store, and it's at the desk in the stock room. so, tomorrow, i get to rewatch the training video that i had to watch at the last store because i only got through 2 or the 4 hours of it. the new manager said that i better watch the whole thing because "it can't hurt to review" and, after i get the corporate labotomy, i'll probably agree with him. so tomorrow, it's four hours, on a speaker, because they don't have boxes as sturdy as the last store did.

wish me luck (or send me a folding chair)

(11/06/2002; 01:58am) - i still miss my box

now i'm on the floor all day hucking cell phones at battery buyers. i've taken to laughing after saying, "can i get you a new cell phone to go with that battery?" if don't say it i can get fired, but if i say it and laugh then...alright, well i don't really have a point, but i do like laughing.
so hammy walked by the store three times today, but he didn't come in. i was wondering why the heck not, because he loves the crap out of radio shack. then later i was eating dinner at pizza palace, and he came in. we exchanged pleasantries, and that was that. he was eating a couple slices of pizza, and some soda. that's a fine meal for a 13 year old kid, even if he is a little on the waddy side. however, he had with him a burger king bag. this bag was not the little here's your hamburger and fries bag, it was the big motha-i'm getting lunch for the whole offfice-kinda bag. so of course he couldn't stumble into the shack, he was too busy shoving grease into his face. i remember when i was 13 and thought that eating was an acceptable answer to "what did you do today?" so my heart goes out to the little lump, really.

at the end of the day, i remembered that we had remote controls for the RC cars. the boss was gone, so i fired one up, and wrecked the hell out of the store. man those things are cool (stop by, they're only $99.99 *batteries not included* ) i set up a stack of barbie kareoke machines ($59.99 *batteries not included*) and then wrecked them down. it was sweet, i totally split a box in half, and then threw it in a pile in the basement where it would look like it fell of a truck or something. the only downer was that it was hard to control, and i wicked smacked it into my shin one time. that litter fucker's got some torque!

so, shin injury included, todays suck my balls rating:
0.8
(on a scale of 0 to 2 balls)

(11/05/2002; 01:52am) - my feet hurt

so there's this kid, i won't tell you his real name because if he reads this he'll cry, but i'll let you know that it's close to hammy, and if you hear him say it through his little fat face, you'll probably think he said hammy too. so this hammy is 13, but he knows more about radio shack than most of the people working there. i'll paint the picture. he's always wearing a black gortex jacket that would make a skinny chick look like a marshmallow, but when you plop his litlle lump of a head on top of it, he more closely resembles oatmeal. he hangs out every day, and both of his parents are doctors so he always buys stuff. i've sold him 3 laser pointers in 2 days. he laughs at everything (especially if you poke him, heehee) and i'm sure that if he had three larger holes he would make a satisfactory bowling ball.
now, i don't want to say that i don't like hammy, in fact, he's kind of a nice little dude. but, the fact of the matter is he's a husky rich kid, and my feet hurt, so he gets the hammer.

oh, but you want to know more about me? today i sat on the box again (actually a different box. my first box is now on display with it's big ass arch making it's crescent debut at the front of the store) and i watched corporate training videos for like an hour. then my boss (we'll call him se?or) gave me a little talk about "integrity" and how they had to fire a whole store worth of people because their inventory didn't match up over the weekend. during this speech i have the 4 stolen radio shack batteries that i need for my toilet gameboy sitting in my pocket. man, i'm badass. then i sold some crap. i can't understand greek people at all, but they do have mustaches. that almost makes it okay that they smell so weird.

today's suck my balls rating: 1/2
(on a scale of 0 to 2 balls)

(10/31/2002; 02:49am) - can i show you how to save money on your monthly bill?

tomorrow i actually get to sell things. i haven't yet completed my FasTrak to the sales floor training, and they won't teach me how to use the lame cash register thingy until i do. i really want to peddle crap to suckers, why won't they just let me do it? i sat on the box for 4 hours today. that is a dented motherfucking box, i'll tell you one thing. at least i don't shovel poop all day.

todays suck my balls rating: 1
(on a scale of 0 to 2 balls)

(10/29/2002; 08:42pm) - we welcome a new shimmering knight into the vast corporate army

First Day, New Job. earlier this week i lopped my flowing curly locks in favor of a neopompadore. i can't decide if i look super stupid or extra super really cool. i'll favor the latter. this morning i combined my new haircut with a snappy gray oxford shirt, new shiny black leather shoes, and unmatched dress socks to proudly march through the front doors of my new hate distillery. i looked like a nervous 15 year old loser going on his first date with the class ugly girl, only i didn't have flowers. i went straight to the back of the store, me my new manager and was introduced to another guy called (for the sake of anonymity, we'll call him quazar) quazar. quazar is a new employee also, but he's in the manager in training program. (he's already been a manager at circuit city, blockbuster, and the wiz) but he has to start at the bottom with me. in the back of the store, there is only 1 chair, and only 1 desk. new sales people have to complete three preliminary training tests before being let loose on the floor. these tests have to be taken on the 1 computer on the 1 desk with the 1 chair in the room in the back of the store. today i worked for 7 and a half hours. i've passed two of them. quazar passed 1. we took turns, first i sat on a box containing some sort of over priced stereo components while quazar did the tests, then we traded. alright, i lied, once i got the chair, i didn't give it back. screw circuit city boy, sitting on boxes is lame. it took over 5 hours to beat the first test because the computer was balls slow, and the training books that the tests are based on are way out dated, and have nothing to do with what is actually on the stupid test. to top it off, you can only get 5 out of 50 questions wrong. i got 6 wrong.....9 times in a row. do you know what can't be processed with FastCheckout when the customer is using a RadioShack advantage plus card? neither the fuck do i. tomorrow i'm going in early and stapling my ass to the one chair until i pass the crap out of that other test, then, i'm going to sell copious amounts of gold plated cables to jewish women who don't need them. because i....am that guy now, and you can all kiss my ass.
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