Bee Repartee

07 May 2015

Hey, Baby Wake Up And Hulk Smash A Chicken

You may think you are so hipster and smart with your Throwback Thursday, Sweet Saturday, Follow Friday, and I don't know, Winnebago Wednesday, and Matricide Mondays but I'm on to you.

You're probably tired of squinty baby and sibling photos and 80's fashion pictures on Throwback Thursday. I thought instead to share some memories. Which, if I was more hipster and smart, would have done this on Memory Monday. Some of the best memories I have are in the past.

Let me start again.

Some of the best memories are ones that I have.

I have a feeling this is going to be a long story.

Once upon a time, when ages and waistlines were all in the 20's, My friend, Dana, aside from owning a killer green Volare with bald tires and a never-ending supply of Reese's peanut butter cups, had the cutest, little, studio apartment.

Dana lived in this quaint, brick building located under the big blue Volvo sign in downtown Portland. If you've ever driven up Burnside, you know the sign I'm talking about. The building, I guesstimate was built in the 30's or 40's, evidenced by the carpet, feel of the building, the fallout shelter sign in the basement-gone-communal-laundry-room, and punctuated by the old-fashion elevator.

The elevator's accordion-like gate hinged open manually, then the inside door opened manually as well. Once inside, you'd close the outer gate, the door, and you found yourself closed into this teeny tiny space. People in the 30's and 40's must not have taken up that much room. The elevator squeaked and groaned leaving passengers to imagine a sudden plummet to the basement with or without the button for the "non-existent" 13th floor. It never quite evoked confidence while ferrying passengers from floor to floor when it shuddered more than a mall-parking lot carnival ride.

Dana and I became experts at evading the young, unabashedly forward, Russian manager. He was always good fun, if not a bit handsy. He was harmless and regularly offered "his services" *wink wink*, singing while he roamed the halls in constant state of somewhere between inebriation and crapulously blottered. Its a wonder he kept his job for so long. Him and his "travel mug" of coffee.

One morning after Dana and I had a crazy night of Coffee People drive through, Oasis Pizza, movies, and people watching on "Trendy-Third" street, I remember being blasted awake with 120 decibels of ungodly noise coming from...a chicken. A rock n roll chicken.

"HEY, BABY, WAKE UP! COME AND DANCE WITH ME!"

I sat up completely disoriented. This was pre-caffeine, getting my bearings in unfamiliar surroundings. I said something like, "Who put this wall here?!"

The mattress was designed to fit on a drawer and get pulled in and out like a dresser drawer. In the morning, you'd make your bed and push the "drawer" in and it stayed tucked away in what looked like a giant dresser.

What I didn't know was that Dana, responding to the pot of coffee we drank with midnight movies, she pushed the bed in halfway to squeeze by on her way to the bathroom. My eyes finally focused and I realized when I sat up earlier, I was less than an inch from braining myself on the dresser frame.

As good friends do, Dana just laughed at me. I begged her to make her chicken stop making THAT NOISE. Hands down it's loudest alarm clock I've ever heard. Although, I'm certain I didn't wet the bed. It was a weekend, not Wet The Bed Wednesday.

-Bee's best part of waking up is sleeping in
Listening to: Gravity by Trentemoller. - See more at: http://beerepartee.blogspot.com/#sthash.OnRaE1P5.dpuf

- See more at: http://beerepartee.blogspot.com/#sthash.OnRaE1P5.dpuf

-Bee says The Rock N Roll Chicken has approved this message.
Listening to: Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants

06 January 2015

Even Fish Bait Guy Has A Plan

I'm anchor-less. Floating. Adrift. Bobbing like one of those buoys you see in movies where the guy gets capsized in a nearly indestructible boat and almost drowns in the ocean. This is right before he is eaten by killer sharks the size of Nebraska.

Even Fish Bait Guy has a plan. On the other hand, I'm still feeling an ocean away from any pretense of predetermined goals, killer sharks notwithstanding.

I was thrilled when I was hired at the bookstore after Thanksgiving. Discount. YES. Talking books. YES. Shelving books. If I HAVE TO. Promoting literacy. YES. Smelling books. ABSOLUTELY YES. What's not to like?

The clincher?

This was a temporary hire situation. I've worked for this bookstore before and had an inkling that a permanent position might happen. I have employment history with them. They loved me enough to rehire me three previous times. I loved working for them. I thought I could nail this. I would nail this. I would be the best bookseller ever.

Now that is a plan.

I quickly discovered that 9 other new employees were attempting to transition from temp to permanent. A friendly new face next to you in orientation turned into someone who would punch babies and steal from grandma in what felt like the longest, most cutthroat, sales driven, month long interview. And it wasn't really. Just felt that way.

However, the flu is no respecter of persons, even co-workers who would eat their own young. I came down with the plague a week before Christmas and missed 5 days of work. And I mean gutter crawling, COPD wheezing sick. What was I supposed to do? Typhoid Mary all the bibliophiles in my quaint city with the latest mutated, flu, bronchitis superbug? To my credit, I did have a Dr's note but my manager didn't need it, which was nice. He said he understood. He said, no problem.

This is code for "thanks for not giving us the flu but we need to keep employees who aren't going to have the flu forever."

Two days ago, I found out I did not make the cut. Insult to injury, I had to call them to ask. I was told "there were just so many great employees to pick just two." They couldn't hire me in a 2 to 9 chance as a former employee? I want to scream sexism, ageism, flu-phobic, brain damage-ism, and any other -ism I could conjure up. I wanted that job but really I was sick. A lot.

This was one of the lowest paying jobs I've ever taken. However, working in a bookstore is a dream job. I thought that if I stayed on, in their words, "maybeeee a max of 6 hours a week..." I could at least keep my discount. My big draw was interviewing would be a little easier with a show of current employment regardless of part-time college these last few years.

I'm taking this "sorry, we cant keep you" ridiculously hard. I feel so stupid rejected. I've not finished school so I don't feel prepared to work in the field I've been studying and I'm not good at waiting around for my college program to open up in fall of this year.

See? Anchorless.

I am someone who is geared to plan, list, mock-run-through, deliberate, set out with MacGyver preparedness for all contingencies, and hitting my goal. Me, waiting around? Not so good at that.

Today, I thought I'd throw in the towel. I'll just stay at home and make goat milk soap or bee's wax candles to sell on Etsy. It shouldn't matter that I don't have a goat and I don't know how to make soap. Despite my name, I don't have any bee's wax either...but anything is better than waiting around till fall.

-Bee wants some cheese with her whine
Listening to: High and Dry by Radiohead

Ps. After being rehired several months later after this post and then getting my dream job in July? I'm not going to complain.

11 December 2014

Can I Gift Wrap Your Face?

Christmas.

It is my favorite time of year.

Strip away all of the commercialism, complaining, awkward Christmas parties, and rum flavored bricks disguised as "fruitcake" and I'm just like that sugar-filled, befooted, pajama-wearing child on Christmas Eve all over again. I like the family time, the meaning behind Christmas, and the smell of a fresh cut tree. I love giving and helping others (although, this? Someone can do year round). I have scores of good memories of Christmases past. It really is my favorite time of year.

This season, with a lull in my college classes and a family to support with hubs, I took on a part-time job selling books. Discount is lovely. Talking, sharing, reading, and smelling books are favorite past times so the job made sense. Having extra moolah at Christmas is also a bonus.

Working in the public eye with people once again has reminded me why this line of work is not my favorite. I think that somehow people have gotten progressively more demanding, entitled, and downright rude over the decades. This is still the exception to the rule but either way, I'll still smile and give the customer my undivided attention.

Although, if you declare that an item "Must be free today!" when the register scanner can't pick up the UPC? I'll probably want to stab you in the left eyeball. (I'm right handed). I only hear this line at least twice a day.

If your credit card is declined, I'm fairly certain when you gaze at me imploringly, that I haven't misplaced your bank statement, I will not magically pull an approval out of my ear, nor am I responsible for balancing your account. Running it four more times will not make money appear in your account. Sorry.

If you want to use half a dozen coupons and they are expired, think of it as week old hamburger in the fridge. If you use it everyone will want some. Then everyone will get diarrhea and...

Okay, forget the hamburger thing.

If I allow it, I have to allow everyone the same. All is fair in love but not coupons. I just can't...even when you plead and look at me like I'm a whey-faced sheep herder for not allowing only YOU to use expired coupons. If you were Queen Nefertiti, we may consider it...or the Pope...or the BatDad guy from youtube. He's super hilarious.

I'll still offer free gift wrap even though, under your breath, I might have heard you question my parentage and/or encouraged me to fornicate with myself.

If you have a penny for change, feel free to quip about "booking the cruise" or "woo hoo, one penny!" I will think of the old adage, "A penny saved is a penny earned. And a million pennies will get you a nice vacation." I just made up that last part even though its true.

If you say "Merry Christmas", I will say "Merry Christmas" right back. They can fire me if that's a problem. If my cares were a calculator, it would say, "0".

If you ask about a book "with a blueish cover with stars or something on it" I will probably refer you to The Fault In Our Stars by John Green. Otherwise, I apologize for not memorizing the billions of covers that roll through a bookstore. This is is just inevitability with most booksellers, librarians, etc... In fact, according to Scientific American, the brain’s memory storage capacity is close to 2.5 petabytes (that's a million gigabytes). My brain on the other hand, has difficulty remembering where I set my coffee 5 minutes ago. BUT! I'll do my best to find you that blueish cover with stars.

If you talk with me about books, a good sale, or finding an awesome present, I will be genuinely happy with you and for you.

Lastly, if you ask me who wrote the autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, I will still find your book, but will most likely end up making you feel stupid.

(SPOILER: Its Ben Franklin)

This is that thing again called inevitability. Like fruitcake bricks at Christmas, awesome presents, cold cups of coffee, and the occasional urge to ask, "Can I gift wrap your face?"

-Bee prefers Christmas chocolate
Listening to: Pandora oldies Christmas music

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25 October 2014

Idiots Guide To Preparing For The Flu

It's very important to be prepared for anything. My purse is the mecca of natural disaster preparedness, chock full for every possible contingency. Safety pins, band-aids, hand sanitizer, first aid, ibuprofen, a Lego, high heeled Barbie shoe, fuzzy granola bar, ziplock of cupcake sprinkles, and a 9V battery.

You never know.

However, nothing in my purse can prepare anyone for the flu. This is where I come in. I've prepared a small checklist so you will be fully ready for anything flu-like that comes your way this winter season.

Set alarm clock in one hour intervals throughout the night. Turn off alarm at 3am. Stay wide-awake. Turn on TV, preferably Conan O'Brien reruns. Watch a heavily-edited episode of Sex and the City. Watch incredulously as the sound of infomercials on the Butt Zapper attempt to lull you back to sleep. Feel sleepy only when kids wake for school.

Get up in the morning and drink an entire bottle of Elmer's glue. Follow this by gargling a Big Gulp of glass shards. Follow with half a pot of coffee. Drive children to school. Look cheerful.

Go run a 5K after hand-unloading a truck full of gravel. Rest by lying down on your local highway. Truck ramp is best. Do not get up unless you are run over a minimum of three to four times. Smooth clothing and proceed to finish household chores.

Grab a handful of sandpaper from the workbench in the garage. Apply by rubbing vigorously to entire nose and lip area. Stop when bleeding occurs. Brush hair and put into ponytail. Apply Chapstick. Reflect on how hot you look.

Go to Walmart or other drugstore and purchase as many over the counter medicines as legally possible. Visit several pharmacies if you score less than 10 boxes on your first attempt. Try not to look too guilty.

Procure an icepick, two if possible. Jam one in each ear, muffling sound effectively. Ask everyone, "What? I hab a cold." when they speak to you.

Go to garage and find the nearest tire pump. Shove end up nose as far as the pain will allow. Pump vigorously. Stop inflation only if pump breaks or you can no longer breathe.

Buy a disco lamp and install with 500 watt colored lights. Display strobe light show in bedroom. Point directly at your head for optimum retina exposure.

Purchase small ping hammer at hardware store. Use on upper molars twice a day. Make sure ice picks are still solidly in place. Tell everyone around you that you are finally feeling better.

Go to the grocery and buy soup, crackers, ginger ale, bread, and bananas. Bring home and dump out everything in toilet. Make yourself a cup of hot tea and a piece of toast. Eat nothing else for the rest of the day.

Get into shower. Refrain from using soap of any kind. Get into bed sopping wet with large brick of moldy Swiss cheese. Alternate turning on heat to 110 degrees and blowing AC. Read or watch TV while attempting to look comfortable.

Congratulations! You are now prepared for the flu.

~Bee does not eat fuzzy granola bars.

Listening to Tom Sawyer by Rush

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