Tag Archive | Stereotyping

Going in Circles

Twenty years and nine states later, I’m right back where I started.  My 41st birthday was last week.  Twenty years ago I was living here in Tennessee working as a church secretary.  Now, I’m living back in Tennessee, working in a minimum wage retail job.  Not much difference.  I deal with assholes and grumpy people all day, and the occasional nice person.  I’m ignored, belittled, and treated like a minion much of the time.  I just keep on smiling and saying hello, because that is part of what I’m being paid to do.  It’s only when one of my favorite customers comes in that I am able to drop the act and genuinely smile and be happy to greet someone.

The funny thing is, that even when I’m grumpy and don’t want to be there, I still smile and act friendly.  Even when I don’t want to.  Sometimes I just want to snap at people because they are just so damn clueless.  Because of this I’ve come up with a list of my pet peeves.  These are things that people do when they are in the store that absolutely drive me insane and make me want to a) scream, b) cry, c) throw my badge on the counter and walk out, or d) all the above.

Do:

  • Acknowledge the cashier or store employee when they welcome you to the store.  This could mean saying hello or even just smiling back.
  • Be prepared.  Have your discount card, coupons, money, and/or ID ready before you get to the register.  I’m trying to check you out in the friendliest yet most efficient way.  Please help me help you.
  • Get off your damn phone!  Do be courteous, as I will do the same.cellphonerude
  • Empty your basket.  Again, help me help you as quickly as possible.
  • Put your basket/cart back where you got it.  I sometimes give the elderly a pass on this one.shopping cart
  • Control your children.  Germs are real folks, and your children are not welcome to drool and climb all over the counters grabbing the scanner and everything else within reach.

Don’t:

  • Be rude to the cashier.  That includes being on your cellphone, not saying a word to the person helping you, throwing items or money on the counter (like throwing spare change at a beggar), and thinking the cashier is a mind reader.rude
  • Be a snob.  Just because the cashier is doing a job that you think is beneath you, just imagine what you would be willing to do to take care of your family and be able to feed them.
  • Be “holier than thou.”  One lady actually said to me, “Honey if you were perfect you wouldn’t be working here.”  I hate the Sunday crowd the most.  The so-called God-fearing Christians are usually some of the rudest, meanest, most judgmental people I have to deal with.
  • Think we’re lazy and/or not intelligent just because we are working a minimum wage job.  (At least I’m working.  It might not be my dream job, but I bring home a paycheck and pay my own bills.)
  • Give the cashier gospel tracts.  I know that you think that they might be the one in a hundred who actually reads it and finds the Lord, but no.  Save the sermons for the parking lot.  They have a job to do and taking them with a smile, then throwing away your little cutesy tracts after you walk out the door is not in the job description.
  • Tell us your latest racist or sexist or off-color joke.  You will receive the death stare.1i-chzbgr

I guess that’s all for now.  I’m sure I’ll have to add to this list later on.  Just remember to be nice to cashiers.  We have to do a lot of math and deal with assholes all day long.  On top of that we have to go around a clean up after you.  (I’m talking to you.  The ones who like to walk half way around the store before deciding they don’t want something, and then just set it down anywhere before heading to the checkout.)e4f9348b43ufq

I’ll take a beer now please.

Peace, love, & happiness.

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Peace, Love and Happiness

One night, while at the local watering hole with DC, one of her old high school friends  showed up.  She sat down with us and we started talking.  She told us about her kids, grand-kids, and all that good Southern small talk shit.  Then once we moved on to the topic of relationships, she dropped a bomb on us.  She has not had sex in ten, ten, years.  Oh my God.  I almost spit out my beer.

DC was also shocked, but she said that she had also gone years without before.  DC then noticed that I had turned pale and stopped breathing at the thought of not having sex for TEN years.  DC then asked me, “Well Ginger, what’s the longest you’ve ever gone?”  My answer, “six months.  Those were six of the longest months of my life.  DC then proceeded to laugh and snort, spitting out her Scotch, then saying, “That’s all? Six months?!”

So last week I went 4 days without sex.  Before that I went another four days without sex.  As of tomorrow I will have gone another four days.  If I can make it past day four I will have accomplished a tiny milestone towards my new goal.  Celibacy for one *cough* year.  I want to cry just typing that, and yes, I hang my head in shame.

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Shame, not from being embarrassed that I willfully choosing to become celibate, or that I probably won’t make it even three months, but that it’s come to this.  That I actually need to quit having sex cold-turkey because I have a serious problem.  You may think I’m just trying to be funny, but I’m not.  There are so many things that I’ve done that I couldn’t even write about on this blog because, even though this is anonymous, I was still so damn ashamed of myself that I couldn’t even to write about the awful things I had done.

So I’ve decided that since I’ve left so much out of my blog because I wasn’t proud of doing those things, I’m going to write about them while I’m suffering through my year of celibacy.  That way, I write more, I purge my sins, and you don’t get left out of the confessional loop any longer.

Call it a cleansing process.  I’m already about to have a panic attack just writing about it, and it hasn’t even been four days yet.  I plan to do anything necessary to stay celibate.  No more hanging out at the bar, getting drunk, flirting with strange men.  No more online dating websites.  Most of all, no more ex-lovers, ex-husbands, and ex-boyfriends tempting me by waving their cocks in my face.  No more dick-blindness.  SLUTS FOR A CURE.  So, there’s my half-assed plan on remaining celibate for ONE YEAR in search of inner-peace, self-love, and authentic happiness.

Peace, love, & happiness.

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Last Friday Night

Pop-music-alcoholSome nights just aren’t meant to go as planned.

Friday night was supposed to be a fun night out with friends.  It turned into one of the worst nights I’ve had in a long time.  It’s partially my fault.  I just don’t know when to say when, and I’m not just talking about alcohol.

It started out fine.  DC and I went to another local bar where Teacher was playing.  When we arrived there was a large table full of friends having dinner.  I knew most of them.  They’re a great group of people and they invited DC and I to join them.  Not long after we sat down, more friends showed up and joined us.  There were probably twenty of us in total.  We ate, drank, laughed, and enjoyed Teacher’s music.

One of the other people that showed up was Bacchus.  He brought a date and they joined us at the big table.  He and I had talked a few nights earlier about what might happen if I went Friday night and Viking was there, then if Mr. 7am showed up, then Paul Bunyan, and of course Teacher would be there.  It could potentially be one big cluster fuck.  Then Bacchus said “and then if you left with me.”  I thought it was funny and that the cherry on top would be me going home completely alone.  Turns out I wasn’t so wrong about that part.  More on that in a minute.

A little while later Teacher’s girlfriend, who I still think is the most bland person ever, showed up with her guy friend that was with her last time we were there.  She was sitting directly behind me at one of the pub tables, our backs to each other.  We never speak or even really make eye contact which is fine with me.  They didn’t stay long.

When DC and I went out to smoke the Viking showed up.  He said hello and went on inside.  The Viking is a guy who I’ve met a few times.  He’s also a friend of Teacher’s.  I saw him at another bar a few weeks ago when I was out with Bacchus.  We talked and had a good time.  Since the Viking and I were already friends on Facebook, I sent him a message the next day.  I told him it was good to see him and that maybe we could hang out sometime.  He agreed and said he’d let me know when he got back to town.  He works out of state.  Part of the reason I went Friday night was because I knew the Viking was going to be there.  I wanted the chance to talk to him more and maybe see if he was interested in hanging out more.

I had talked to Mr. 7am again on Wednesday, and he said he wanted to hang out this weekend so I told him he could just pick me up from the bar when he got off work.  I know I said I was going to stop seeing him, but I figured I’d give him one last chance.

He text me a little after 9:00 pm and said that he had to go home after work because he was going to get up early and cut grass before going back to work the next afternoon.  I was angry and hurt and embarrassed because I had let him do that to me yet again.  I told DC and she said I probably should give up on him because something just isn’t right with him.  I know she’s right and that’s what I should do.

tumblr_m7lajcEDVo1qchllgo1_500In my anger, I decided it was time to move on, so I changed my focus toward other pursuits.  I was no longer dickmatized and since Mr. 7am was no longer coming to the bar, I decided to try to talk to the Viking a little.  A bunch of us were outside smoking and talking and Viking sat down beside me.  We talked a little, mostly joking around and enjoying the crazy conversation that his friend and an old drunk man were having.  Things didn’t really seem to be going anywhere with him, so again, I decided to move on.

I had noticed the bar manager the few times that I’ve been to that bar, and I decided maybe I should give him a shot, just for kicks.  He did remember my name, even though I couldn’t remember his, but then again, most people find it easy to remember my name.  However, I wasn’t really in the mood to put any effort into him and quickly let that one go too.

The bar was getting ready to close so after one last beer I followed Bacchus and some others back to the room that he had gotten for the night.  That’s when the party really got going.  There were people in the room, outside the room, just everywhere.  I managed to have a really good time even though I wasn’t really on the prowl anymore at that point.  I was just having fun hanging out with everyone.

It did strike me a bit odd though that the Viking hooked up with the falling-down-drunk girl from a few weeks ago.  She seems nice, but evidently her standards are pretty low, as are his.  I was glad to have dodged that bullet once I saw how disturbing the “hook-up” looks from the outside.  They got caught making out in the back of a vehicle and then shortly after they left together.

tgif8So the numbers were falling but there was still a good crowd there hanging out.  I did manage to get into a conversation with the bar manager, and he seemed nice, but he also seemed to be stuck on the tall blonde bartender.  So again, I moved on.

Finally, we were down to the basics.  Just me, Bacchus, and Mr. & Mrs. Right.  They are friends that I met through Teacher and I adore both of them.  Eventually Mrs. Right decided it was time to go to sleep so she passed out on one of the beds in the room.  I was outside the room sitting on the tailgate of Mr. Right’s truck talking to him and some old drunk guy who disappeared at some point leaving Mr. Right and me to talk.

CqFOqHDHxZ8lAs we were sitting on the tailgate talking, I noticed that the curtain in the room was open about a foot.  Then I noticed the lights lower.  See, I forgot to tell you that Bacchus’ date had also passed out, on the other bed in the room.  She had been there for a few hours and was out cold.  While I was trying to be a good friend to Mr. Right and give him some relationship advice (I know I should not be giving relationship advice, so no comments on that one please) I saw something through the window that I wish I had never seen.

I was trying really hard to pay attention to Mr. Right talking to me, but it was very difficult considering I was watching Bacchus have sex with his date, with Mrs. Right asleep in the next bed less than four feet away, and I just couldn’t concentrate.  It was an odd mixture of shock, disgust, anger, and yet I couldn’t stop looking.  I was just praying that his date was actually conscious during it.  Otherwise, that would be pretty shitty of him.

So, there I was panicked and frozen sitting on the tailgate of a truck in a hotel parking lot watching my friend fuck some drunk woman (who told DC & I at dinner that she was married) while trying to give heartfelt advice to Mr. Right.  What a fucked up night it was.  It still makes my head spin just thinking about it.

To be true to the “confession” part of my blog, I have tried to be more than friends with Bacchus a couple of times, but only because he was flirting with me just as much as I was flirting with him.  He even came right out and told me one night that I’d have to make the first move.  I did and that turned out terrible.  He got scared and ran.  So that’s fine.  I think he makes a better friend anyway.

Wonderwoman_dodging_bullets_by_TopcowImage2dFI consider myself to be a good person.  Yes, I do bad things sometimes, but not terribly bad.  In general I’m a caring, compassionate, loving, smart, friendly person who tries to give people the benefit of the doubt.  So why is it that men keep choosing these skanks, plain janes, and old drunk whores over me?  Not that I really wanted any of those guys, but (and this is the narcissist in me coming out again) why would they not even try….or did they try and I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to take notice?  Either way, I’m so happy that I went home alone Friday night (the only part of the “plan” that actually went as planned).  I may not have felt that way when I first got home, but after a day or two of meditation and writing I realized where I stand with people and how many bullets I’d probably dodged.  So…yay me!

Happy humping & keep your options open, but watch out for those stray bullets!

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Birthday Sex: The Extended Version

bday sexAt 7:00 am I heard my bedroom door open.  Someone crawled into bed beside me.  Someone naked.  I opened my eyes just a sliver and it was my new friend-boy, Mr. 7am.  After I opened my eyes and saw him leaning over me and coming in for a kiss he said, “Good morning baby.  I’m here to give you that birthday kiss I promised you.”

He had to work the late shift the night before and couldn’t make it to my party.  So I told him he could come by after work and I would leave the door unlocked for him.  I wasn’t really expecting him to come by after working all night, but I’m so glad he did.

Az5CUnmorning-sex-alarm-flirting-ecards-someecardsHe kissed me and then kissed my breasts and then kept going until his face was buried between my legs.  Forget alarm clocks.  I’d rather have a tongue between my thighs at 7am.

Mr. 7am is not my usual type.  He’s a little country and from this small town, but he seems very genuine and laid back.  He’s a foot taller than me, in great shape, and has just the right amount of chest hair (and no back hair).  He was a vision to wake up to.

I grabbed his head and pulled him up to mine and kissed him.  He tasted like sweet pussy…he tasted like me.  I grabbed his ass with both hands and pulled him closer, letting him slide inside.  For the next hour we fucked, and I sucked, and we fucked some more until we both came simultaneously.

That was the beginning of my birthday sexfest.

Over the next week he came by a few more times, always at 7am.  Each time was better than the last.  I always had to get up for work though, so we didn’t have much time to talk.  That was fine with me.  He’s hot, and willing, and makes me dripping wet.

As the week progressed I went on a couple of other dates, but they were all duds.  I was completely unattracted to them.  One guy couldn’t stop staring at my tits, and the other had no filter so any dirty thought that came to his mind, he just said out loud.  Not the best dates I’ve had, but not the worst either I suppose.

Then on Thursday I got a message from a guy who lives quite far away and we started talking.  This guy managed to get me so worked up so fast that I couldn’t wait to see Mr. 7am again.  Unfortunately for me, Mr. 7am couldn’t make it for a few days for a few reasons.  So I was left to take care of things myself.

Saturday I thought I was going to die of boredom until my friend DC asked me to meet her at the bar.  We had a good time listening to music and talking until closing.  At closing our friend Bacchus showed up.  He invited me to go out bar hopping and we did just that…until 4 in the morning.  I was exhausted Sunday, but pleased that we had such a good time the night before.

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Well, hello Mr. Booty.

Since Mr. 7am had to work, I didn’t expect to hear from him until at least yesterday, but at 4pm Sunday he sent me a text.  He said he could be here in an hour.  What?  Mr. 7am is going to be here at 5PM?  What has the world come to?  LOL

So I hurried to get ready for his arrival and in between getting ready I was still talking to my out-of-town friend online.  Once again, he was getting me all hot and bothered, so by the time Mr. 7am got here I was ready to strip him down and go for a ride.  He had other plans though.

When he came in with a six-pack of beer and a bottle of Crown I knew I was in trouble.  He handed me a beer and sat down at the table.  I joined him, reluctantly.  As we drank our beers, we talked and he told me some funny stories.  Don’t get me wrong.  He’s a really nice, funny, charming guy, but I had other things on my mind.  I do want to talk to him and get to know him better, but maybe some other time when I’m not about to soak through my panties.

Anyway, as we sat there I kept looking for an opportunity to make a move on him.  I didn’t want to interrupt him as he was telling a story, and I wanted to let him finish his beer, and then his cigarette…but, but, dammit boy!  Fuck me already!  LOL

Finally I saw my opportunity.  He stood up to go to the fridge and as he came back to the table I told him to come over to me, where I was sitting on my bar stool.  I wasted no time in grabbing a hold of his ass with both hands and pulled him in so tight that I could feel his cock pressing against my thigh.  He had on these gym shorts that made it very easy for my hands to slide in and down to his ass.

imagesAfter some really good kissing, and his being shocked by how eager I was, he said, “That’s enough. Let’s go to the bedroom. Now.”  He grabbed my hand and led me straight to the bedroom.  He was undressed before I even sat down on the bed.  I started getting undressed and was laying there on my side in just my underwear.  Since I hadn’t planned on having company I didn’t have time to put on my fancy panties.  You girls know what I mean.  I just had on some cute orange stripped cotton & lace bikinis.  He didn’t seem to mind.  He took one look at me and said, “Damn girl.  Look at that ass.  You’re looking fine.  Mmmmhmmm.”  You have to imagine him saying it in a nice thick Southern drawl.  LOL  Needless to say, my panties didn’t stay on much longer.

I wore him out, and he did the same to me.  By the time he left I was shaking all over from the five orgasms I had and I could barely walk.  Twenty minutes later I was still shakey when he sent me a text that said, “Omg u r hot.”  He texts like a 12-year-old, but he fucks like a pro.  Either way, I was flattered and ready to pass out, which I did.

So that was my week of birthday sex and damn it was good.  Hopefully it will continue and I’ll have at least a whole month of mind-blowing orgasm-inducing sex.  😉  I’ll let you know how it goes.

Happy humping (from the now 40-year-old Preacher’s Daughter)!

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99 problems but a prick ain’t one

So, I had an interesting night.  It started out that I was just supposed to ride to a neighboring city to hear Teacher‘s band play.  I’m friends with a couple in the band and my friend Bacchus was nice enough to offer me a ride.  Everything was fine until I found out that TB was supposed to be going also.  TB, short for Talker Bitch, is batshit crazy and everything that comes out of her non-stop mouth reeks of bullshit.  I noticed all this when I first met her a week ago, but I was drunk and was trying to have an open mind and make some new friends.  Damn.  That was a terrible idea.

So she rides with us to the bar.  We get there and Teacher’s band hadn’t started playing yet, so he was outside smoking with all of us.  While we were there he made a snide remark about E.B. and asked what time he was coming.  I didn’t take to that very kindly and quipped back that I had a very heavy purse in my hand and his head makes for a very large bald target.  TB quickly got all hyped up and kept telling me that I shouldn’t let him talk to me like that.  First of all, it was a joke.  I knew that.  Given the opportunity and the right mood, I would probably have done the same thing.  No worries.  I was fine.

As the night progressed, and TB drank more beer, she became an attention whore to the tenth degree.  That was fine.  I was sitting at my little table drinking my Diet Coke and minding my phone.  Oh yeah, by the way, I was the designated driver, hence the “no alcohol for me” thing.  This was probably only the second time in my life that I have been assigned “Designated Driver” duties and I took it seriously…well, seriously enough.  I had one drink because someone brought it to me, but that was it.

We did listen to the band for a while once they started.  Teacher was awesome as always.  No surprise there.  Then during the break we went back outside to smoke.  Somehow during the conversation, TB came over to me, grabbed my hair, and pulled.  I almost lost it.  I said, “What the fuck! Not cool.”  Of course she and Bacchus tried to play it off.  She especially.  She said, “I didn’t pull it.  I just did like this.”  Then she proceeded to gently run her fingers though my hair.  That just made my temper flare even more.  Hasn’t this damn girl ever heard that you don’t fuck with a redhead?  She needs to be schooled.  I was tempted, but I didn’t school her.  Oh, my God, I wanted to choke the bitch.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.  I overcame.  I was proud of myself.

Then once back inside, there was this whole other drama with this meth head bitch who looked like Twiggy, if Twiggy was raised from the dead a hundred years from now.  But of course, a lot of the guys thought that she was easy prey and tried their best to get in her pants anyway.  Even though she was high as hell and crazy as hell.

Then there was the narcissistic chauvinistic fat-ass lawyer who thought he was hot shit.  He gave me the creeps big time.  I just backed away slowly and went back into the bar like a good little girl.

If all that wasn’t enough to kill my mood, then the next part completed it.

I walked inside to go to the bathroom.  The bar was closing up and Teacher was taking down the equipment.  He came up to me and said, “Would you mind driving me home?  I’d really appreciate it.”  Without thinking I said of course I would.  First, and I told him this, TB was about to give me an aneurism, and second I didn’t want him driving if he was drunk.  I do still care you know.

Well that didn’t go over too well with TB and Bacchus.  I honestly thought Bacchus would be ok to drive, but I guess I was wrong.  They got pissed.  I freaked out, but I didn’t let them know.  I said I’d see if Teacher would want to just ride with us.  So I went inside to tell him what was going on and he told me not to worry, just to take them home because I had already promised them.  FUCK.  Confession: I almost teared up when he told me to go ahead and take them home.  I’m not sure why.

I drove them back here.  I thought they were going to fuck in the backseat while I was driving the 45 minutes back, but that was mainly because that’s what happened the last time I was the “designated driver.”  I don’t think they did, and when we finally made it back I just wanted out.  We were waiting on her mom to meet us and pick her up, which was taking forever.  I was tempted to get out and just walk home from there, but I knew Bacchus wouldn’t let me do that.

Eventually, like this post, it all ended.  I got home, got some sweet tea, pulled out the laptop, and started writing this.  So there ya go.  Like the song says, ” I got 99 problems but a bitch prick ain’t one.”  She was definitely my top problem for the night.  No more TB for me.

Ahhhhhhhh.  Sweet silence.  It’s just you and me, girls & guys, just like it should be.

Happy (quiet) humping!

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P.S.  Yes, I’m actually writing a P.S.  My 40th birthday is next week.  Expect my 400th post on my 40th birthday to be one you’ll never forget.