Have you ever sent a text message complaining about somebody, screwed up and sent it to the person you were bitching about?
I kinda sorta did that today. I don’t want to get into specifics, but I sent Toney (I thought) a message about a strange phone conversation I’d just had, and mistakenly sent it to the person I’d been speaking with.
It wasn’t too bad, what I wrote, but it still makes my stomach expand and contract every time I think about it. I even went on the internet to see if there’s some way to recall a text message, if the recipient hasn’t read it yet. Heh.
Have you ever done something similar? Tell us about it, won’t you? Use the comments section below.
I worked on the “book” for three solid days starting Thursday, and didn’t make as much progress as I’d hoped. I was wanting to be at the halfway mark, Chapter Thirteen, by today. Not quite.
But it’s gonna take as long as it takes. It won’t serve me to rush through it. I don’t mind putting in the work, but I’d really like for this project to be moved to the next step, already. A request for a fourth draft would be mighty disappointing.
Oh well. As the insufferable assholes say, it is what it is.
If you ordered one of the limited edition summer shirts, it should have arrived, or will be arriving momentarily. With a few unfortunate exceptions…
As I was processing the orders last week (and watching the ’75 World Series as usual), I got to the end of size XL, but still had nine envelopes calling for them. WTF?
I checked my paperwork, and saw that I was ten shirts short. The nine going into the envelopes, and one for Steve. What the hell, man? I’d never run into this problem before. The T-Shirt Lady always delivers exactly what I order.
So, I called her and she couldn’t understand it, either. She says the shirt counts are confirmed at four different points throughout the process. This is a problem she almost never encounters.
I got the feeling, and it’s probably just my paranoia talking, that she didn’t completely believe me. And I hate that. But, dammit, I’m ten shirts short!
So, roughly 95% of the limited editions have been mailed, and nine people who ordered XL are in a temporary holding pattern. I’m really sorry if you’re one of the people affected. I’ll be sending you an email, hopefully today.
And I was at a grocery store yesterday afternoon, buying a six pack of Troeg’s Pale Ale (which is very good indeed), and something completely ridiculous happened.
There were two guys there, checking out the beer selection. And when they finally made their decision, one went to the cash register to pay, and the other continued browsing all the way on the other side of the room.
The cashier, a woman with a red, scaly face, asked for the man’s ID. Then she hollered at the other guy, who looked to be about 35 years old, and asked to also see his license.
“What?” he said.
“I need to see your ID, as well. I need to check everybody in the party.”
“But I’m not buying any beer,” the guy said. “I don’t have my wallet or my license with me, ’cause I’m not driving or buying anything.”
The woman turned the key off on the cash register, in a dramatic fashion, and told them she wouldn’t be selling them any beer. And with that, she turned her back on them and walked away.
The two men, who had long since passed the age of 21, looked at each other in astonishment. Then they shrugged and left the store.
I saw them a few minutes later in the parking lot, getting into a truck with Connecticut plates. They were still talking about what had just happened, completely baffled. I wanted to shout, “Hey, welcome to Pennsylvania!” and thought I’d better just stay out of it.
But is that stoopid, or what? In this state they act like beer is plutonium, or something. Yet everybody’s a drunk… Go figure.
In grocery stores (the few actually granted a license) beer is separated from the general population, and has to be purchased from a dedicated beer cashier.
You can’t just pick up a six-pack and a sack of chips. In that case you’d have to make two purchases, in two different parts of the store. And if you make the mistake of buying the beer first, they’ll wrap that shit up like you’re preparing to mail it to Europe or something. It’s crazy.
Anyway, I’m going to start my work week real soon, and had better call it a day here. Let me know about your embarrassing text message errors, or anything else, for that matter. How’s the weekend going, for instance?
And I’ll see you guys again tomorrow.
I hope my small “pup tent” t-shirt was not shorted! Btw, the latest Avett Brothers is a great record!
Another dude poundin’ rewrites for a book here. So much so that I’m hemorrhoidal, and forced to work from a standing posture, looking down on the computer screen from high above and straining to reach the keyboard.
I try to put myself in the mindset that the rewrites are MY rewrites, and not the publishers–they make the book better for ME. If you can wrap your head around that concept, the process might go a tad easier.
No tttexxxting dooone on myyy phone. I don’t eeevvven buttttt diiial anyyyone. Damnnn theeses keyss r sml.
Gretchen those pictures are wonderful. I couldn’t help but notice the beauty of the fabrics they used in the old feedsack prints and the backdrop on the stage of kids.
Plus I was thrilled to see two pictures from Caribou Maine! That’s where I am from (actually New Sweden is roughly 7 miles north of Caribou) but I know exactly where those pictures were taken. Seeing pictures of the potato pickers brings back all kinds of memories too. Getting out of school for two weeks to pick potatoes was how I earned money for clothes. They only recently stopped doing that in the 80’s, although kids in high school can get out of school to work on harvesters.
Thanks for sharing the pictures!
Gretchen, those Depression pictures are great. Thanks for posting.
Wonderful pictures Gretchen. Thanks for sharing them.
I live in So. Cal & I have never had a problem purchasing beer/wine/liquor. They sell it in every grocery store (fully out in the open), BevMo, gas stations, etc. There are liquor stores but I would never go in those dives because I don’t feel like getting shot.
I guess my uncle who was visiting recently had a run-in with a grocery store clerk who told him she wouldn’t sell him his bottle of wine because he had a TX license, but that is a bunch of boo-shit. I work in a department that processes ABC (Alcohol Beverage Control) licenses so I know the rules & I instructed her of them. Her manager came over, apologized & rang up the wine. Other than that I have never seen a problem.
Geez, other states are bordering on prohibition with their alcohol sales. I’ll stay right here & drink when I want to, from stores that I like.
It makes me smile the way alcohol is treated in this whole country. In most the gas stations here in WV the alcohol is safely tucked away in the “Beer Cave” so that the evil can’t escape on it’s own and pollute the “good folks” walking around the other parts of the gas station.
Most “pubs” around here are completely windowless and I’m still not quite sure what the purpose is of that. You can drink a beer in Applebees and sit by the window so why not in a bar? My presumption is the evil-doers must be shielded from the rest of us.
Cheers!
Tammie: That’s awesome that you would recognize something from those pictures! Funny enough, after I saw the picture of the “Brockton Enterprise” newspaper building in Maine I went onto Google maps and trotted down the street to look at what the building looks like now (and I’m not from Maine or anything, I just sometimes do that with old photos because modern technology allows such whims). The building is completely different, of course, but you can still see some of the columns on the second story.
Anyway, glad I could bring some nostalgia to the board here. What I can’t get over is the beautiful color of the pictures. I keep having to remind myself of the actual time period they were taken.
i could never live in a state that had such insane beer laws….
i’d never be able to buy anything. i’d go to the store to buy a beer and some pork rinds and wind up having my girlfriend’s sister shamefully bail me out of jail for roundhouse kicking an assistant manager into his afterlife.
Gretchen, thanks for that post. It was nice to see my dad’s old stomping grounds (Stonington Ct.) as it looked when he was young. He was 15 when that photo was taken.
I’ve never sent or received a “wrongful” text, and I’ve never in my life used IM of any kind.
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Miss you. Let us go!1
“Wrap that shit up like I’m preparing to mail it to Europe or something”
grin.
I love “Mommy Wants Vodka” SO much better than other blogs I read, like this ridiculous one called “West Virginia Surf Report.” Your blog is consistently funny, but WVSF sometimes drones on and on about mundane things and how the writer didn’t work on his book… or drank beer. Thanks for your hysterical writing, like the “No Fly Zone” post last week! Best, your biggest fan. -Nalts
I have sent texts to the wrong person a few times but it always seems to work out in my favor (I wrong texted my sons mother before we started dating and that’s what kick started the relationship) oddly enough when I read this Monday later that night I received an email that consisted of a pair of boobies! No message and no face. When I replied back, “nice tits, who is this?”, I found out the sender obviously had the wrong email:-) the funny bit about it is that email address consists of my full government name and not some cutesy nickname, so this chick either knows someone with my same name, same spelling (rare but unlikely) or she knows me, made a fake email and sent me a pic of her hoo-haas! Either way I was happy!