Today I did something absolutely hilarious at work. Before we begin let me first complain about the absolutely unbearable length of the day and revel in a moment or two of complete self pity.

...

Okay. So today, work began at 10am. I rolled into Best Buy at 9:15 and the store opened 15 minutes later. Oh... so many things happened. And this twittering little Best Buy Guy (myself) was running to and fro nonstop for the entirety of the shift. It was Mad Friday or something, and it was not an isolated incident, the same thing happened at my other store, Michaels- only worse. But we'll get to that as it comes.

Best Buy was rampant with customers, the majority of which were absolute Scrooges. Did I neglect to mention the Scrooge customer? Let me put it simply. You cannot sell these people life insurance on their death beds. They are that stingy. It's beyond stingy. I offered these people free services.
"No."
I offered them free stuff! I offered them free money! I really did!
"No."

It is at this point that we'll define a rule for this blog. An experience enhancement for all of my faithful reader. (Note: Reader is not a typo. ^_^) The way this is going to work is that I will begin adding my secret, unspoken thoughts in this blog. Ooo... When this happens you'll read what happened- and then see a sentence or two in italics. These are my secret, unspoken thoughts. So for example: In the preceeding scene you what you would see would look something like this:

I offered them free stuff! I offered them free money! I really did!
"No."
What, are you stupid?

The day was crazy. Here's the point: Our store is placed in a "DISTRICT" zone with 15 other stores in the nearby area (the state basically, we're not too populated down here in podunk Missouri). Best Buy's corporate offices had the presence of mind to place all of these stores on a perpetually fluctuating ranking system so at any time, any employee can go to the computers and see how much we suck or rock in comparison to all the other stores in our 'district.' The reason this is important is because it makes the stores engage each other in a mass competition which normally improves sales quite a bit. Smart Best Buy corporate offices. I tell you to see the creativity these people have poured into their business it is no understatement ot declare them complete geniuses of economic and infrastructural management. Half the stuff these people use as basic policy is some of the most whacked up crap I've ever seen. And it works... brilliantly.

Incentives for winning the monthy 'competition' include: bragging rights, a warm fuzzy feeling inside, the store manager gets a bonus for that month, and the random promise of pizza by the department manager Chris Palis and Richard Winters (who of course takes the victory or loss quite personally.) I think there might have also been something that had to do with ducks... but I cannot recall. (No I'm serious, there was seriously something about ducks involved.)

Several days ago, I sold nine in-homes in one sale. This is significant for a number of reasons. First of all, because of margin. I learned quickly that employment at Best Buy is not so much unlike taking a basics business course at a college. Best Buy likes to keep the employee as aware of the big picture as possible. I assume this is for a number of reasons. Reasons like: the sense of company awareness gives the lowly sales associate an understanding that he or she is striving for a greater goal. It also gives a better understanding as to which products actually make profit and which ones do not (an understanding which will earn the company money... obviously), and finally, if you're good, being promoted to something where this knowledge is a prerequisite will cut down on the need to waste time training.

Margin and Revenue are two numbers the associates watch closely. (Two numbers that Richard watches with a frevency comparable to the way a dying man watches his EKG.) While revenue is the money we bring in total. Margin is the amount of money we get from what we brought in. Of course to put stuff on the store shelves we have to buy it first. Then we resell it. Best Buy buys wholesale in bulk, and retails it for a profit. Basic economic physics. So what we spent on it minus what we sold it for, equals our margin earnings, or profit. Revenue is really a useless magical number that is postulated under the impossible pretenses that everything that we sold to customers that day was free for us in the first place. Regardless, we sill watch it carefully.

Quick notes on things that earn margin in order of least to most:

1. Item Accessories
2. Performance Service Plans
3. In Store Setups
4. In-Home Setups

Believe it or not, we don't actually make that much money on computers that we sell. Sometimes we can even end up losing money as a store. Which I'm told and I'm prone to believe is very very very very BAD. So, to avoid that part of BAD, Best Buy offers services and setups that one: earn money atop the computer sale and two: are extremely useful (because we want them to sell obviously, might as well have something that the customer can use). Things like computers do not earn as much money because computers themselves are purty darn expensive and it's a competetive market. Writable CD's however? Not so expensive to get wholesale and earn a decent margin percentage. The same with printer ink cartidges, paper, and printer cables. Accessories like these are useful for the customer, and they make a nice addition to the package, and earn a but of margin atop that sale.

Performance service plans can either be heaven or hell for Best Buy depending on who's using it. The PSP makes Best Buy your technical support / repair shop for the computer you buy. So if you spend $250 on the PSP and use in the three years it convers only bring it in once to get a key fixed in your keyboard, then the PSP has done pretty well for Best Buy's margin. If you're a psycho who likes to take your laptop on canoe trips involving class 6 rapids and lots of unsupervised alchohol consumption then we more than likely will end up replacing your computer multiple times and will lose a buttload of money. It's very give or take.

In store setups are simply, normally run $150 and will make your new computer run like magic. I cold preach the in store setup all day long by now but I've already got a huge blog going here. Basically in store setups are one time full optimization procedures that we can do for the you when you buy. They're very useful and give you a much nicer computer in the end than the one you picked up off the shelf. Plus Antivirus, plus AntiSpyware. Good stuff. These things are great for margin because we didn't have to purchase the in store setup beforehand from a wholesaler. This is just labor. Useful still, but crazy good for the store's welfare.

In-HOME setups are the gods of margin. And well worth it, depending upon your needs. An in-home setup is almost the same as an in store, except we have our Geek Squad drive out to your house and do it there, as well as set it up with your internet, your network, your office space- etc. And numerous other little things. It's also a lot of fun because they're car is just plain cool and good for impressing the nieghbors (geniuses... pure genius). These will normally be about a hundred dollars more than in-store. Almost pure margin.

So selling one with a computer system will allow the store to earn some kickback with the twenty dollars they made or lost on the computer package the customer just bought. They take some of the weight off of the system itself by adding money. Per sale, Margin is calculated as a percentage. The registers at Best Buy calculate the amount of money that was actual product, and the amount of the sale that was services and profit. That percentage beyond basic wholesale to retail profit is the Gross Margin Percent, GMP. Very important because this is one of the most primary ways the winner of the monthy competition is calculated. The way this works is if you sell an eight hundred dollar computer and a service plan, the GMP for that sale will be smaller than the same service plan on a three hundred dollar computer. If a service plan is $200, then your margin for the thousand dollar computer is $200 out of a $1000 sale. About 20%. On the 500 dollar system it would be $200 / $500 or so, making the percentage rise to about 40. Better margin.

Now before we go any farther here, I've got to allocate space to explain that this does not mean selling the cheaper model with the service plan is automatically better for the company. (Note: If you're tired of reading this tripe and want to get on to something more interesting, just scroll down to the big orange letters that say "OKAY, NOW FOR THE INTERESTING PART." -->The reason I'm writing this much about it is because I feel good explaining these things to myself and later if I forget I can reference them. Plus, a background knowledge on Best Buy's operations will make the reader more aware for in the future when I become manager and this stuff becomes relevant. (Shrug)) The reason a cheaper computer with a service plan is not necessarily better is because a cheaper computer is normally cheaper because one or more of the following:

1. It's a piece of crap.
2. It's a closeout model that is normally higher priced and is on sale now so we are rid of it.
3. There are ten billion instant rebates on it.

If the computer is cheap for all three reasons, Best Buy is LOSING SIGNIFICANT MONEY when the computer is actually sold at that price. It's bad when its one. Terrible when two, and absolutely horrendous for everyone when its all three. So attaching a $200 service plan to a computer that we're losing $150 dollars on only makes us $50 dollars- for the entire computer. But selling the same plan on an eight hundred dollar system with no rebates at a marginally profitable price for us in the first place will produce 200 dollars. This is why Margin is not the only number we watch carefully, and is not the only number used to calculate the monthly winner.

Short story long: That nine in one I sold a few days ago? Shoved our department to number one in the district, AND number one in the territory (bigger denomination than district, about 70 stores I think...) and the entire store moved to 12th in the nation (about 700 stores) Which is phenomenal. Richard is preaching pizza. If we can hold the spot till the end of the month it makes us the winner! YAY!!!

OKAY, NOW FOR THE INTERESTING PART:

Wow that thing is an eyesore... Anyway, the point of all of that is that today I sold two in homes out of the air. Which means there was no computer remotely involved. I just sold it to this poor woman buying a printer and a monitor. The day had been so unproductive... like I said, Scrooges. Two million customers, none of them want anything useful. This woman saved me... and it was so weird...

Now- because I'm still the new guy I still am not entirely sure how to ring everything up or what papework is required for sales like this one and come to find out: THERE IS NO SUCH PROCEDURE for the nonsense that I had cooked up. What happened was this woman wanted to buy a computer, we're talking about it and come to find out she has a perfectly capable computer at home, just her monitor and her printer went out. So we look at monitors, I get her into a 19" flat panel with built in speakers. Very nice. We look at printers- I get her an all in one printer scanner copier from Canon, the MP150. Also very nice. I then tell her that if she doesn't want the hassle of getting everything put together and running compatibility with her current machine and dealing with wires and setting up the resolution and (blah blah blah) that we can have the Geek Squad come out to her house and set everything up for her. We talk about that for a while, she comes to the idea and we seal the deal. Grab some ink for the printer, and some paper, and a cable for the printer and off we go. I get to the register expecting we'd just run the sale as everything she had, plus two in home add-ons (software or hardware installation beyond the basic in home setup). Come to find out: the computer requires a computer in-home setup to then put in an add on. Oh... no but you don't understand. She wants the in home. Make this work.

So of course we don't let the poor woman know that something is at all amiss, I just have her fill out her name and personal information on several random sheets of official-looking paper several times assuring her that it's just a part of the procedure for the in-homes while I run around from manager to manager and getting the strangest looks ever trying to make this deal work. Clever that... Anyway, eventually we get to Debbie who is department manager or something or other big shot like that and she's like... "Umm, you said what?" Debbie's a smart gal, she instantly recognized the potential in the sale here and the understanding that the customer wanted it made it essential that we get her what she wants. So she goes to the guy who would actually be driving out to the woman's house and asks him about it.

When he's done laughing, she comes back, shrugs, and tells me to run it through as a wireless network set up ($159) for both of them together and stamp it with a post it note that explains the situation for our Geek. So I do. And that is exactly what happened. Everyone was happy. The woman got what she wanted and I generated $159 of pure margin on two items technically considered profit generating accessories anyway plus ink, paper, and printer cable. Our numbers bounced up again and locked in place. There are about four days left in the month cycle and our spot is nearly guaranteed. Why? Because I STILL do not know what I'm doing... I love it. I can see the headline: "Idiot New Guy Mistakenly Saves Company! Profits Soar!"

After work at Best Buy I went to work at Michaels where I mostly ran a register all night, there were two million people in the store for some God-forsaken reason. I was so tired at the end of it... Basically that's all that happened there though. The really entertaining part of this day happened after work, at Hardees.

Directly after getting off the clock at Michael's I went home and showered, changed, and made a point of feeling a lot better about myself. Then I packed up the laptop and headed of to Hardees for my usual multi-hour interlude before a new day comes and I return to the rat race. I got there around ten forty five PM to find a ton of cars in the parking lot. Okay... freaking why? What is this? Universal go to places and spend money day?

I go inside and there is this line winding around filled to the brim with this gang of sorts. Ghetto crew. Lots of big coats even though its 79 degrees outside, lots of bling bling, lots of dreadlocks, and lots of bad teeth. There is a terrific commotion taking place. Carze looks up from behind the counter with this "Oh no, not another one." Look on his face, the same face I'd been wearing the majority of the night at Michaels, and his face breaks with relief when he sees me.
"Hey! Hows it going man?"
"Looks like you've got quite a crowd here."
"Yeah 'do. Sure 'do. It's prolly gonna... be awhile."
Things were going crazy in that kitchen back there...

Some guy turns from the back of the line and says, "Dude done ran outta fries, dog." Translation: This fine establishment is running low on french fries, also knows as 'chips.' Then he takes a second look at me. "Dude... who is you?" Which I naturally regarded as a mildly unnatural question for this particular setting. I gave him my name. Nothing much really came of it... as far as I know. The following events however may have related.

I soon learned that MSSU, the local college, and Hardees restaurants have teamed up in the local area to provide an absolutely profit annihilating opportunity for the students who attend. Free drink and fries with any sandwich. Freaking crazy. So there's a massive amount of 'homies' all lined up to recieve the discount and are they ever making an ordeal of thing. I go ahead and get in line, plenty hungry. And wait patiently as the line tenderly trickles forward. Not long after, another crowd of people come in that the ghetto crew in front of me apparently know well probably due to equal affiliation with MSSU and wouldn't you know the first thing out of everyone's mouths is that the f'ing store is f'ing out of f'ing french fries, dog.
Translation: Dude, that was some freaking sweet vocabulary there.
Really? You think so? I have been working on it...
Totally, freaking sweet.
No, you mean F'ing sweet.
Oh yeah... duh.

More bling bling, more tall black guys in big coats and too much hair... or no hair... either way- they collect behind me and beside me and basically completely destroy any presentable imitation of a line that might have existed before and perform handshakes and exchange rap dances as is customary and then they settled down a bit.

Here's the stupid part: There is this girl in the crowd that came in behind me and she's like- "Hey, do you live here?" What are you people? My secret fan club? What's with the freaky questions? "Yeah."
"Oh. Cool. Do you go to school around here?"
"I graduated from Webb City." Did I just admit that? Oh God... strike me down...
"Oh."

Tall black guy standing next to her glances from her to me and does this- "Oh oohh!! OH! Uh OH!" And starts bouncing on his hips like some rapper's do and waving his hands and laughing. "Trisha's on it! She on it!"
Trisha? No... No I don't know you.
"Gonna get a little one night stand here now!" He laughs.
I'm taken aback. WAY. "Yeah... not interested." I'll be sure to look you up though if I ever want a incurable STD.
He's quiet for a bit, and his eyes go from me to her real quick then back to me, incredulous. 'Wh- now, what you think she's kidding?"
And who the hell are you? Her pimp? "My girlfriend probably wouldn't appreciate it." I smiled.
"Aww.... c'mon," He leans in and nudges me. "What yo girlfriend don' know ain't gonna hurt her!"
"Oh? Who's the dirty liar that told you that?" Dickhead.
"What?"
"Who's the dirty liar that told you that?"
He just looked at me.
"No."
He shrugged. "Aw'right man, I respect dat, I do." He holds out his hand to give me the ghetto snap shake thing... I take it and we do the ghetto snap shake and nothing more is said of the poor girl.

Chris, one of the guys who works in the back of Hardees tossed me a cup, knowing that I'd be getting a meal, and I filled it with something caffeinated and sat down. I began to write.

A while later the crowd left and I returned for food. Carze and Chris gave me the discount the college students got, just for no reason, and upgraded the whole thing to a large. So basically I ate a lot tonight. Whew... it's been a long day.

...

Why did I just write all that? I can feel the sun coming up... what time is it? Wow... 5:43. Better get down the block, post this, and get to bed.

I miss you Jess... talk to you soon.

Alright, I'm just writing this because I feel so freaking cool after having done it. And it was no piece of cake. Plus it was nice to know that I'm still more clever than $40 worth of software... Actually, I wasn't really paying for the software when it all happened. Whatever just proves it wasn't worth spending money on anyway. I don't know why I was even using it, I specifically tell customers at my job not to use this stuff, that it won't work. I suppose now I've got an true story to back up my claim. The reason I haven't broken down and just bought the good stuff is because my Best Buy discount hasn't kicked in yet, and that will save my at least $35 of the forty. It really is an exciting story though. If you're a total nerd. Which I suppose I am.

I just finished a two day bout with a virus.

And man was it ever intense. It was a sneaky little thing, and almost as cunning Wally himself (for more information concerning the tale of Wally and technical detains concerning his eventual annihilation, please refer to... I don't know... just as me and I'll tell you about it.) but nothing could really ever match Wally. This was like a very weak subroutine of Wally. Anyway-

I was cruising around the net a merely two days ago. On tuesday I think... Yes, that was the day... Grr. There's a call for an activeX control which is normally nothing unusual. Sometimes to view certain applications online you have to install what is called an ActiveX control, which will be a program that specifically runs your application and several others by the same company. Often. Nowadays, ActiveX controls are often used as ways for stupid people to download a virus that is cleverly disguised as an ActiveX control.

Apparently I am a stupid person. Because I though nothing of going into my security settings on Internet Explorer and saying to it "Yes, go ahead and download this file even though I really have no idea what it is." (Believe it or not, Explorer Seen actually has an option for that...) The program downloads- YAY! wonderful, the application runs just as it promised to do. So I continued not to think anything of it.

Bad idea.

Moments later, a little bubble pops up an tells me that I have might just have a virus or some spyware, and that this program called something like "Spyware Killerer.. er" Might just do the job in killing it. Now, I can buy it for fifty three dollars from the online website by clicking on this little balloon. Well isn't that nice? I can just click this little balloon and suddenly I'll have antivirus guaranteed to find my virus and kill it. Well it ddidn't take three seconds for me to figure out what was going on and promptly smacked myself in the head. I'd stupidly downloaded one of those corporate viruses. Basically, its a virus made by an anti-virus company that pops up in your system and tells you that you've got a virus and the only solution is to BUY OUR ANTIVIRUS SOFTWARE. Its not that simple though, or no one would ever fall for it, of course it's also got to do all the same stereotypical virus things, like eat the computer alive till you but whatever. By infecting random files. The first thing it hits is my internet explorer. It changes my home page to their home web site, the one that will allow me to buy their antivirus. Any and all attempts to alter the home page back to my original are worthless. And any time I try to navigate away from their stupid page, it just clicks me right back to it again. So, I cannot move from this page in internet explorer, so getting online to kill it is hopeless. I open AVG, my free anti virus software. This free download is supposed to be able to accomplish all the same things that a paid program can. Okay... So I scan the computer.

After an hour of scnanning, it reports I have two files with viruses. Great. It was then I realized why AVG is not a paid program. It's a virus scanner, and that is all. There is no "delete that freaking virus" option" There is just the AVG telling you that its there.

Screw that. I went in search of the thing on my own. I hit CTRL-ALT-DELETE and went into my system processes looking for unfamilliar files. I checked all the ones not marked SYSTEM and found their actual process origins. Then I backchecked those processes in the system registry with a parameter for anything created within the past few hours and collated the results. There were two. Then I searched the name of the website that kep appearing in my home page and that search turned up dry in the registry at least. The files that appeared in the registry as recent were shut off manually, by me, through CTRL-ALT-DELETE. A few of them go down. And two immediately reload themselves. Bingo. These are my little guys. At least... that's what I figured first. These two little twerps name isamonitor, and isamini. The little bubble thing pops up again and I take special care to note the system icon it sprouted from. It looked like those triangular yield signs and had an exclamation point in it.

I did a basic system search for the first file: isamonitor.exe. It turns up in a program files folder alongside four other files, one of which is isamini.exe. I also find that little icon with the yellow yield sign and the exclamation point. I select everything and hit delete. Three files hit the Recycle Bin and two stay. Guess who... isamonitor and isamini. Apparently the files are in use so I can't delete them. I again go into my processes and manually shut them down. POP! They open right back up again.

Pesky little things...

So I can't delete them until they're turned off, and I can't turn them off because they insist on popping right back up. It's got a stranglehold on my Internet Explorer so I can't go grab a utility that will allow me to freeze a process in action and delete its origin. So what am I to do?

I restarted my computer, again. Remember this all happened over the course of two days. I watch my startup tasks and it shows that these two buggers are among the first basic system apps to run. Apparently, somewhere, there is a list, and the list has the names "isamonitor" and "isamini" as one of their startup programs. I thought for a second. I could take several hours plowing through program files and INI files until I find it and remove the few lines of code that ask for those names. Deciding that I didn't want to do that, I instead tried something completely absurd. I went directly into the folder where the two viruses were kept and right clicked : Rename. I named isamonitor.exe "poop" and renamed isamini.exe "turd." Closed everything and restarted the computer.

It works. I get a small message at startup telling me that the exe file "isamonitor.exe" could not be found and could not be initialized. I click okay and another message pops up telling the same thing about isamini.exe. And I'm like- "THAT'S BECAUSE I RENAMED THEM POOP AND TURD YOU ASININE MACHINE!!!"

I bolted into the folder, found poop and turd and deleted them both. To the glory of God above, they hit the Recycle Bin with a satisfying clank and I emptied it, sending both files into oblivion.

Now my internet explorer is back to normal, running my own start page like it should and allowing to move freely about the net! So basically I met two viruses in codeplay combat and thrashed them both! HAHA!

Caleb - 2
Viruses - 0

Booyah! I felt so cool. ^_^

Yikes! Work today starts at five and I'm supposed to meet some dude at 722 Connor Street in Joplin today to look at an apartment at freaking FOUR! Which means I may be cutting my timeframe a little close. I'll keep a good watch on it though, the time that is. I have a good internal clock and keep track of time pretty well (just buy a watch you dunce. I did... and I lost it, or it broke... one of the two, maybe both) ANYWAY. Even if I didn't have a great internal clock, I do have another gift that proves useful in such situations. I have the most amazing ability to sense when people are looking for me. Not the most common of supernatural attributes, but very potent. And a very responsible one come to think of it. I'll know the exact moment a customer at work becomes tired of waiting and moves to find me. I'll know the exact time that my mother wakes up and wonders where I am in the middle of the night. (Doesn't happen anymore, we came to an understanding about that. Simply- I come home whenever and lock the door, she doesn't wake up and drive around the nieghborhood looking for me at two AM. It's a wonderful system. Used to be I'd be out and somewhere around just after midnight she'd wake up and wonder if I was hope, make an ordeal out of it, and check to see if my car is outside. That's when my radar goes off, tells me that I'd better book it, and I get in the car and drive home just to pass her going to the other way on my road heading god-knows-where-she-thinks-she's-gonna-find-me in the middle of the night)

However intriguing my extra sensory perceptions may be though, its hardly the point. The point is that I have an appointment in less than an hour to see some guy at an apartment with two bedrooms. The basics looked good... I do hope they allow pets. How else will Arby be allowed to stay? The reason for this most ospicious adventure includes the retrieval of my paycheck from Best Buy. That happened today. I recieved the funds for all of my efforts in the past three weeks and it totalled to around 200 PER week, ending finally at some $610. Booyah. Not rolling in it of course, but enough to scrape out a decent living for my demographic. Which means I start apartment shopping. I called several residences and one very old guy told me I had the wrong number. I checked it, sure enough I did. Thank you and sorry. Click.

I do hope there's no tangle with credit. Being that I don't have credit and all that... I pay for everything in cash. Which only means I don't buy things that I don't have money for. Believe it or not, that isn't exactly normal these days. The best way to attain leniency in any monetary situation, is to develop a good natured and strong relationship with the guy that you owe. Like if I ever owed Arby money and I couldn't come up with it on the spot. Just a guess, but I don't think he'd evict me. Just as I would not evict him. Obviously. So, just a tip. An obvious one I think. Become good friends with everyone, and sooner or later, when you owe them something (not like anyone intends to fall into debt) at least then you'll get a little slack. ^_^

I'm off to see the apartment! Cheerio!

-Monsterbox

In an amazing tangle of fate, emotion, and good old fashioned irony, my father, yes, my very own dad, has managed to find himself tumbling happily along in a plotline it would seem was taken from a bad combination of SITCOM style and Reality TV. Not that the man has ever watched 10 hours of television in his life, in fact, even if he were a television enthusiast, I don't think he would have watched this one. Why? Because in reality, you're more likely to see a man in a black trenchcoat dodge bullets atop a skyscraper than you are to see the scenario my dad has found himself in.

Perhaps replace the word 'scenario' with 'hole' and 'found' with 'dug," depending on who you ask and where this goes. Me? I'm just laughing aloud. This is not life, this is drama. And as much life as my dad has lived (getting good use of that senior's discount dad?) this, I imagine will be his first real encounter with drama. And by drama I of course mean, something a junior high / high school girl would find absolutely serious. And thank God in heaven there are none of those involved. This certainly is the sort of thing that would wind up in a bad rumor... then again, this is the age of information and technology. It's more likely nowadays to end up on MySpace... or a blog. ^_^

And again, I must consider the fact that I have sisters... one of which who is a Junior High school girl. Then I must also couple that with the knowledge that my dad actually teaches at a Junior High so... suffice it to say he's absolutely marinating in dramatic potential. (If he is reading this, he is probably going to consider the positive connotation of the word 'marinating' to be rather out of place in this context. Just remember that anything being marinated is about to be either eaten- or set on fire, and then eaten. ^_^)

Ready to get to the meat of this story? (Ha! A pun!) Our story opens several years ago with my parents' divorce. We can talk about that all day long but as its not the point, we're going to skip the majority of it. My mother and my father go their separate ways as the kids, me and all of my siblings. Well of course life doesn't end there so eventurally people started seeing other people and my parents took up dating. (Not each other... Which is kinda obvious) There were a few interests on both sides but nothing solid until my mom met this guy named David Idleman. Key facts concerning him include that he is also divorced, was married to a woman named Amy, and has a daughter named Sarah. We could talk all day long about him and how that's working out and all but again it isn't the point so suffice it to say they were officially married on May 8th, 2004 while I was at a theme park and thats about all I wanted or needed to know.

As we're gracelessly skipping through recent history, my dad also became involved in a somewhat serious relationship with another named Alisa. Nothing like marriage mind you, it was good for a while but didn't work out and there was nearly some drama over it but nothing amazingly uncommon and my friends that isn't the point either so we're going to skip the majority of it as well.

Fast forward to the present day, or... several days ago. This is where we slow down, elaborate, and explain the reason why I'm still laughing. Oooo... DRAMA! (shivers in the stupidity of it all) So, I am at church on sunday morning and I think it had just ended and I am walking past, rather through, a crowd of people and I encounter my dad. Someone immediately attacks the other and that goes on for a while like it normally does and then we break and reinvestigate our surroundings. Standing between one of the pews near us and watching the minor fiasco (a common occurence) is this woman that I hadn't seen before. I didn't get the major details at the time, but as churchly fellowship goes I intoduced myself and we exchanged names and she's like- "Oh, you're Caleb? I know about you." Apparently she knew I was the son of my father (which is to say she knew my dad either before or better than she knew me). We talked a short (very short) while and she seemed a lovely person, filled with energy and pretty darn pleasant at that. Had I been paying my best of attention, I might have better noticed my dad beside me. His reactions and his mood were somewhat different in that moment. It was very subtle, but I caught the scent of it.

Fasting forward again. I arrive at my dad's house later in the evening one night and find him very much not at home. In fact- no one is home. But I am used to that so I merely wrote on my computer for a while. After a long while I called his cell phone, from the house phone. He answered with the words-

"Hi Bethany."

After assuring him that I was not my little sister and having a good laugh we discussed each other's wherabouts and quickly discovered that I was at his home and that he was certainly not and as I delved there was a moment of hesitation before he finally told me he as at a certain someone's house. My eyes went a little ide and I smiled, and there was some silence... and then I think I asked him if he was having fun and after another moment of hesitation, he replied that he was. That coversation dissolved into unspoke understanding shortly following that and after stepping in to explain that Nathan (my brother) and a friend were there, and that Sarah (my stepsister) was there as well, little more was said so we both said goodbye, see you soon, and hung up.

He returned just around midnight and I am still there, shmuck that I am, still typing on the computer. After showing him a small video clip I downloaded called Animusic (which he thought was very cool, the demo clip is linked here, if you want the whole thing just comment me and I'll send it to you. Right now I can't find the exact address, but I will). I soon asked him how his night was and he told me he had a great time and a lot of fun and I nodded and he nodded and we just kind of looked at each other for a while...

"You like her?"
"I really do."
There was a pause in which a nearly began laughing, but didn't. "It's weird isn't it?"
"Oh it is so strange... I mean, is this even possible?"
I shrugged. "Looks like it's happening, so I guess it is."

It is at this point that the actual details of what happened that night, and in those other nights, must blur. For one, I don't exactly know the details, and for two, it is such that it is such details are impossible to understand, even for those that experienced them. I asked my dad what had happened. We talked, he talked, I listened. He told me how very weird he felt again and again and again... It was all I could do to keep from laughing. I believe he keeps reservations about the situation, that is- about dating the woman I met at chruch. And the reasons for that are not hard to understand at face value. He wants to be careful, and is, and wonders about so many things that won't change anything at all. About himself and his own emotions, and about her and her emotions. All of this has been playing up a bit. And I know, generally, this kind of thing isn't that uncommon, generally a divorced man seeing another woman is common enough. So why the intrigue and the hint of panic resonating in my father?

Simple. The woman I met at church is Amy Idleman.

Dave's ex-wife.

(sigh) it's late folks. And I have to get up early in the morning and go to work a full day at Best Buy and Michaels. I'll chatter about this some more later. ^_^ I hate to leave you all hanging and all... but consider now that you know everything I know about the situation, for the most part. Except for perhaps the fact that she likes him in return and when I went to his house just tonight to get the stuff I left there over the past weekend, he was gone, and when I asked: I was told he was gone on a date. That's all I know. As you have the story now, all you really lack is my personal commentary and unspoken details, which, if anyone actually wants to read about, may appear here later.

Dad, if you're reading this, don't worry about people seeing this. Only two people ever really read this blog, me, and a particular Australian who wishes you no harm. ^_^ I'm not talking about it, for obvious reasons. See you around, maybe after work one night. Depends on where you are. ;)
Cheers-

-Monsterbox

It was a dark day. Thunder rolled as lightning danced across the open plains and Anthony Casimire stood, clouded by confusion and frustration, clenching his fists in near explosive agony. He had done everything they asked of him, and still, there was no hope of success. It was time for action, and action would finally end it.

It began before, not so long ago, in the office of some unnamed financial peon suboordinated by the university. The topic for discussion was a college loan, and it was progressing wonderfully. All the details were worked out, all the paperwork was signed and documented- a smile and a handshake and all was well, our Casimire was on his way.

Something happened. It was discovered that a loan was not necessary, that the funds for a payment may already be at hand. As a loan can create years and years of painful paymaking long into later life, Casimire's quest quickly came to a resolution of restructuring his financial plan, and to appropriate the changes, he again sought out the financial peon with whom he'd first spoken. That advisor cheerily took his first payment and gave him a brief explanation as to how the online payment system worked. After which he was sent on his way. He set out to set up his online payment profile on the University's website. Which is where everything went to hell.

He called around. "The website wants my bank account number and I gave it to them and it says no good, it also wants me to send a first payment and I already paid that one, all of my information is bad, and nothing is working."
The peons, the useless standing pile of human infidelity created only to hold the architects of reason at the top, were utterly without a solution. Phones rang, numbers were transferred, and our friend, the good Anthony Casimire watched his world slowly swirl down the toilet bowl of the university's infrastructure to tune of the elevator music playing peacefully over the phone on hold. For endless hours and wastes of time, he toiled and struggled, jumping through hoops and landing in crap, only to roll over and face the same predicament over and over again. No matter what he tried, no matter what they said, nothing was working, until he found an angel.

"Hello?"
"Ooh..."
"...Hello?"
"Lady I don't know who you are, but I've got a sad story to tell you... A really sad story."
"... okay. I'm listening."

Anthony Casimire, in a drunken-like state of red-tape weathering on his mind, conveyed the events of the past few days, and the absolute impossibilty of his situation. He spared no details, and something happened.

"Here's what you need to do-"
His eares perked up.
"There is a building, and within that building there may be one who can help you. I must warn you now, there may be great resistance, you have met them before and they are only peons, she is your only hope. Let nothing stop you, and let no one impede your progress. You must cut through them like a hot blade through margarine, until you find... the door."
"The door?" Casimire whispered excitedly.
"I can only show you the door, it is you who must choose to pass through it. She will be through that door, and it is she who is your last hope of salvation..."

Casimire listened carefully, he drank in every word, and when he had all he needed to know, he thanked her and went. He stood now before the building, shrouded in doubt, but desperate enough to attempt anything. There is perhaps one thing that no one could deny about his bedraggled self, and it was that if nothing else:
He certainly was prepared.
Cocking both uzi's with a commanding click and shoving between the folds of his long tenchcoat, he lowered the sunglasses over his eyes and checked the bindings on his boots a final time. Then he entered, the path before him stretched out like a long, impossible eternity with but a single point, his salvation at the end. Everything between was no more than static.
He entered the lobby.
"Hi there! Welcome to our financial aid office- can I help y-"
RATATATATATATATATAT!!!! Gunfire roared and the receptionist was blown back in a hail of bullets. Casimire turned, saw two more bolting towards him-
"Have you seen our easy to use website?"
RATATATATAT!!!!
"Have you talked to our admissions office about your financial options?"
RATATATATATATAT!!!!

Casimire lunged forward, bolting down the halls, two empty clips fell form the uzi's and he spun them down, connecting them to the spare clips on his belt, they locked securely into place, and he continued to run. The hallway filled with nameless, faceless persons, shouting hollow advice and offering mediocre suggestions.
"I told you people! I'VE TRIED THIS ALL BEFORE!" The tips of his guns ignited in flame and smoke and dozens of flying projectiles blitzed from the barrels and went searing through the air into the scattered resistance. The sound of shell casings and bodies simultaneously crashing to the floor echoed in sadistic symphony... The guns in his palms shook with terrifying rythm as he ran, screaming in a fury of energy. Secretaries and receptionists dove for him time and time again as he tore down the hall, only to be blown away by the stream of metal. The right gun clicked wildly, the second clip empty. A man was advancing, and Casimire redirected the left. A line of shrapnel carved into the wall like a violent stripe of chaos, crossing through the man and filling the air with dust and chips of the building. The left gun clicked out and Anthony dropped them both, still he ran. There it was! He saw it in the distance, standing alone like the solitary ray of light in the end of this long dark tunnel. He was nearly there! Only a few more steps!
WHAM!!!! He flew sideways in the sudden impact. He rolled to his feet and spun to see what had hit him.
"It's simple, all you have to do is create a user ID and enter your account information." The man growled.
Somewhere in the distance a spat of wind was picking up speed, it spun through the air, whipping wildly as it neared the building littered with death. It found a hole and blew through a window broken by bullets and so many shards of shrapnel, carving down the hallway past the man facing our hero. "You have no more guns, what do you think you can do? You can't proceed until you have a valid user ID!"

The wind reached Casimire and blew past, flaring his trenchcoat and revealing the shaft of a long and wicked Katana. Anthony Casimire smiled.

With a ringing scrape the blade erupted from its sheath and into the freedom of the air still wafting with the dust of destruction. The eyes of the man, this nameless impotence, this obstacle in the path of a righteous quest, went wide with terror.
Casimire lunged forward, blade high, adrenaline pouring through his viens. The blade moved, backed by an untold energy surging powerfully through the arms and hands of this unstoppable factor.

From the exterior of the structure, passing students watched in wonder and awe as a man exploded violently through a solid brick wall, flying backwards into the air with brick dust and granite in his wake. The hole created framed the weary sillouette of a single man with a sword, standing upright in a hallway littered with bodies. The form turned, and dissapeared once again into the mire of chaos.

Casimire stood before the door nearly shaking, he checked left, checked right, and peered warily over his shoulder. Everything had been done... everything... This was it. His shaking hand reached forward and rested lightly on the shining brass handle of the doorway... He closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, and took a strong breath. His hand turned and grasped the handle firmly, turned it, and threw it open.

He found himself standing in light.
"You have journeyed far..." Said a voice. "What is it you seek?"
"I..." He stammered. "I just want to pay for college. That's all, I just want to pay for my college!"
"Then you have come to the end of your quest. Here is an address, take it, write a check and send your payments there. And all will be well."
Casimire took the address and stammered a thank you. Then he turned... and began walking the long hallway home. It was, at long last... over.

(Dedicated to Anthony Casimire, best of luck with the lest of college mate! ;)