WARNING! DON'T BE A SHOPPING SUCKER!

1/2 off!   Save like never before!   

Take  50% off our already low prices!    

No one beats our prices!

Sound familiar?

Every store in the mall is vying for your dollars!  "We want, We want, We want your money!"

Okay, this time of year many of you are willing to part with it.  You're out there shopping like crazy!  

"Buy this, buy that, don't worry, someone will like it"

I can almost hear the bells chiming along:

"Spend Christmastime, merrily spend, 
                  buy everything, credit cards bend!"

But ... THERE IS EVIL PRESENT!!!!

Lurking on your receipts, you will find the nemesis of fair play.  It is there in plain sight, but most do not even think of looking for it.  Who would ever fool around during the most joyous season of the year?  No, not your friendly retail store that has all the sales going on ... they wouldn't dare!   

Or, would they?

Most states have laws on the books that make it illegal for a store to charge more for an item than it is priced on the shelf.  However, who will know if this act has taken place if they don't check their receipts?

Look at it this way.  You're at the mall.  You've spent hours shopping.  You're checking out at the register, but instead of watching or adding up the prices in your head, you're thinking about:

Why should I pay attention to what's on the receipt?
I've got so much to do!  It's only money!!!

1. How the hell you're going to get your car out of the cluster ____ of a parking lot outside
2. Who you still have to buy a pair of socks or some jockey underwear for as a gift  (*see Julie for suggestions)
3. What still needs to be wrapped at home before that joyous morning
4. The ass behind you with the crying kids that still want the package of Honey Boo Boo hair ribbons the mother has put back on the shelf three times
5. What your spouse is going to say when you tell them how much you've over spent on gifts
6. Or, quite possibly, what's taking the damn cashier so long because you've had to take a leak for the last 30 minutes and your bladder is about to explode!

The cashier tells you the amount due, you swipe your debit or credit card, get your receipt and grab your bags, and rush to escape the madness, or make it to the bathroom before you leave wet tracks on the floor.  (Fairly obvious when there's no rain or snow on the ground outside.)

Stores love these sort of emotional purchases and buying stress.  Why?  Because you don't check how much you were charged and find all the mistakes that just happened to be in the profit pocket of the retailer!

How dare you suggest we intentionally
mess with the prices around
Christmas Time!  That's only to pay
for the Christmas party we have.
We mess with it all year 'round!!

Now, many of you realize I embellish upon occasion, or use even nasty sarcasm to make a story funny.  It's what I do.  (If you enjoy it ... Great!  If you don't ... Sorry 'bout that!)  It's what I normally do.  

However, the following is an actual event and conversation that took place Tuesday.

I needed one item, some recordable DVD's.  (Yes, I still record DVD's of movies and documentaries on the non-commercial pay channels like HBO, MAX, STZ, SHO, TMC, etc.)   I drove to Big Lots, store #05125.  (I list the store # because I've already written to their home office about the incident.)  

Anyway, I walked to the DVD's, found a package of 50 with a shelf tagged price of $13.00, and took them to the register.  Like most stores, one register was open for over ten customers waiting.  Finally, another register opened as four more joined the line.  After a couple of checkouts, it was my turn.  Completing the ringing up of my item, the cashier saw the twenty in my hand (yes, I still use cash) and said, "Do you want me to take this out of the twenty?"

Now, normally, the price is given.  This time, it wasn't.  Automatically, I handed her the twenty.  She returned my change, a five and sixteen cents without counting, and said, "Merry Christmas!"  

I looked at the change and said, "How much did you charge me for these?"
Cashier:  "$14.00 plus tax is what they came up at."
Me:  "They're only $13.00 on the shelf."
Cashier:  "So."
Me:  "So, it's illegal to charge more for an item than what it's marked at on the shelf!"
Cashier:  "Don't worry about it.  It's only a dollar."
Me:  "That's right, it is ... MY dollar, not the store's."
Cashier:  "It's Christmas.  It's no big deal."
Me:  "I'm sure your corporate headquarters doesn't advertise to bring people in and then plan to steal from them.  I need to see a manager if you're not going to do what's right."
Cashier:  "Step over there and I'll get you one."

What does it take to stop the insanity of this cashier?
It's not that it's only a dollar, it's the principle of a store
stealing without any form of guilt involved!

So, I stepped to the area at the end of the register.  Immediately, the cashier took the next customer, and the next, and the next.  Finally, she turned around, saw me still there, turned back around shaking her head, and took the next customer.  

Ten minutes passed and she had not made the first move to get a manager.  Perhaps, she envisioned I would grow tired of the game and walk away.  I guess she's never dealt with one that has much more experience in life being an ass than she has!  (Not literally, of course, she had me beat there.  I don't think her tail had ever seen the light of day until she got the job she seemed to be totally enjoying!  Not trying to be crude, but she not only beeped when backing up, floodlights came on and a radar tower started turning!)

However, shall we say, "I'm beginning to get pissed!"  

When she finished with the customer, I stepped up to the counter and issued a strong, "Whoa!"

I continued, "You've ignored me for over ten minutes.  Now, you either get a damn manager up here, or I'm calling the police department and pressing charges against you for theft!  The gambit you've played is disgraceful and completely unacceptable to anyone with a hint of principle.  If you cherish your position, you'll listen to a person that is a District Manager for a national retail corporation and get your tail in gear ... now!"

I bought all this stuff and never once checked a
receipt.  I trust cashiers as they never make mistakes.
And, you know computers don't either!

Now, I'm no longer a DM, but she didn't know that.  Besides, it sounded like an intelligent statement to me!

She got on the phone, called to the back, and five minutes later a manager showed up.  Completely ignoring my presence, punched her code in the register, turned and walked away without a word.  No apology, no explanation, no nothing!  The cashier gave me my dollar and tax, and said, "I hope you're happy."

Needless to say, I returned the kindness of the store manager and cashier with an email to their corporate headquarters immediately.  Since I have yet to have a response received from them, all I can do is to envision the cashier getting an award for her tenacity to help out the company's profit margin.  ("And here's to the young lady that helped us to afford this year's Christmas and 4th of July get togethers!  Yay!!!!)

How dare you mess with my lunch
at Arbys!!!  Why, if I didn't give you
what you asked for, you'd keep the
stuff I wanted.  Why should I pay you
more than the marked price?

But, that's not all.

Wednesday, I went to Office Depot for some cd cases, as I'm making my son-in-law some mix cd's of some classic rock artists.  I went to the shelf, saw the price tag of $7.49, grabbed a package, and took them to the counter.  

Guess how much they stated I owed them?    
No, not $7.49 plus tax.  

$11.77!!!!   

This time, the cashier followed me to the rack, saw the tag and recognized that there was no way the cases should be priced that high, and corrected the pricing at the register.  This was done in less than two minutes.  However, if I had been thinking of something else, I would have given the store an extra couple of dollars.

Am I a cheapskate?  Damn straight!  Profit margins are already in the marked prices.  Anything over that is just additional money out of our pockets!  A dollar here, two dollars there, another one down the way, and you've given away lunch at Arbys!   (And the Lord knows I love my Bacon, Turkey, Ranch sandwiches from Arbys!)

Retailers, adding dollars to price lists in their computer
systems?  Why, they wouldn't do that ... would they?

Are retailers purposely marking items up in the computer?  Good question!  I have no proof, so to say so would be slander.  But, just think about this.  They know you're in a rush and not thinking about prices like you normally would as you're caught up in the season.  What better time for corporate to tell the price programmers for the registers to jack up the prices a dollar or two and certain items?  If they get caught, they'll simply say, "Oops" and change them back.  If they don't, it's profit!

So, beware of price changes that shouldn't change.  Look at your receipts, and give them hell when they try to say, "It's Christmas, don't worry about it!"

Or, if you wear your "Shopping Sucker" tag with pride, simply send all your extra, frivolous cash my direction and I'll say, "Thank You!"  

I'll even smile when I say it!  And, if you're not offended, I'll add, 

Merry Christmas!!

©Copyright RCRUMPLE2012. All Rights Reserved

German Chocolate Cake...Life Is Wonderful!

In the last 9 days, I've written two blogs: one here on the Job Fair and one in the Ravaging A Destroyed Mind series.  Sounds like I've been screwing around doing not much of anything, doesn't it?  

So, just call me a lazy ass and get on with your life if you want.  

Well, I've also produced two Fantasy/Horror hubs on Hubpages, two newscasts (that easily took 24 hours of writing time each) and a long tribute hub for a "Pass It On Lollipop" award I received.  Still doesn't sound like a lot, does it?

Still haven't called me a lazy ass?  What are you waiting on, Ground Hog's day?

Add to that most of my evenings have been spent planning a joint blog effort with a friend of mine.  Believe me, the talking about names, what to do, how to do, and where to do takes ten times longer than the actual writing.  

It's like two teenagers trying to decide what to wear to the prom via chat room conversation.   Fuh Su-rer!

Imagine these same two individuals making a decision together, that are miles apart, both having separate lives and personal responsibilities, as well as, different sleeping schedules.  Add to it the fact that both are completely anal about wanting to select the perfect name, perfect format and perfect schedule.  Now, add one more thing to the equation... neither individual is perfect.  Yet, they have a common goal and know if they ever get it going, the world will be at their feet.

Be careful, my toes tickle easily.  Smell anything yet?

It's kind of like knowing you're both great cooks, but having someone else help you in the kitchen is difficult for both parties.  Will you make a feast, or will you totally screw it up and end up sending someone down the street to McDonald's dollar menu for a better meal?  

God, that was a terrible example!  Oh well, what do you expect for free?  

But, please remember, I haven't been doing anything this week.  Just being a lazy ass, squandering my time in the land of Zo (I wanted to make that easy to read if you happen to suffer with dyslexia) wallowing in the good life of munchkins and flying monkeys.  I've traveled the land of yellow brick roads and the journey of being lost in a lost world.  Where's Auntie Em when you need her?

No, I'm not cracking up.  It's called being a wise ass.  (If you're going to call me a lazy ass, at least I can change the "lazy" to "wise" and feel somewhat pleased with myself.) 

In fact, I feel almost as good as I did at the grocery store today.  Please, don't let that statement change your love life, yet.  Allow me to explain.

I have been in the mood for a slice of German Chocolate cake for almost three weeks now.  I wake up in the morning fantasizing about a German Chocolate cake.  

No, not like the apple pie scene in the movie American Pie, damn it.  Get your mind out of the gutter.  You really do think I'm a typical ass, don't you?  

Anyway, if you're meeting me for the first time or just have a terrible memory affected by years of illegal, but fun, drug usage, I have been fighting weight gain and diabetes for about eight months.  I've lost close to 50 lbs. and got my sugar count down over 36 points.  It's very close to normal now, unlike my mind. 

There, I said it before you could.

Anyway, getting back to the German Chocolate cake, I went into the local supermarket today to get a slice.  Normally, they have it available.  I know, supermarket bakeries and pastries are not the most sanitary.  In fact, I won't even go into one of them now thanks to a past experience of watching crumbs move as I started to partake of a second bite of Red Velvet cake a year ago.  Yes, they weren't crumbs.  Just small bugs.

Hope you weren't eating before reading that.  I triggered my own gag reflex just thinking about it again.  Oh well, we all need our protein.

Getting back to the long, drawn out story, I walked into the grocery store.  The produce department was first spied, so I walked over and spent nearly five dollars on a bag of apples that used to run a couple of bucks.  

Don't we all love inflation?  "And a ching ching here, and a ching ching there, here a ching, there a ching, everywhere a ching ching, Inflation is costing us, cash for other things." (Yeah, Old McDonald had a Farm was the tune.  I only claim responsibility for the substituted words.)

Next, as I walked away from the produce department, I found the deli and bakery area.  Deli made large pizzas were on sale two for $10.  Not wanting to spend that much money on one from Pizza Hut, I went ahead and bought two, knowing my wife was off tomorrow.  We'd pop in one tonight, and one tomorrow, and that would keep me from having to take her out and spend twice as much.  Plus, she wouldn't have to cook a meal.

See, I sacrifice my healthy eating habits to make life easy on her.  Don't you wish you had a husband like me?   Oh, if you're of the male gender, ignore that question and just read on.  

So, I'd picked up a plastic hand basket knowing I wasn't going to need a cart for a slice of cake (remember the German Chocolate cake?  That's what this story is about.  Really?  Too many drugs in your past?)  and found that the pizza's were too large to fit.  Now, I'm in a fix,  I have two large pizza boxes in my left hand, and a bag of apples in the hand basket in my right.  Going to make picking up anything else easy, isn't it.

Okay, maybe we better forget about the wise ass and go back to lazy.  I just lost my brownie points for wise.

Now, I'm searching the deli pastry for my real goal, a slice of German Chocolate cake.  I look and I look, but to my utter dismay, there is no German Chocolate cake available.  Not a slice, not a half, and not a whole... nothing... nada... nil... nowhere!  

I started to go into German Chocolate cake DT's.  The fever set in.  I started the shakes.  My lips began quivering.  If I'd have talked, my speech would have been slurred.  My eyes were darting from side to side. 

 Surely another person had moved it over to the pie section.  No, not there!  Over by the breakfast turnover, perhaps!  No, not there either!  Possibly, they hid one for later behind the massive stacks of bread on the racks!  

459 loaves on the floor later, my quest was still not reached.  Yet, no one would approach me either.  I had to hurry for I'm sure they'd called the men in the white coats to come and take me away.

In a panic, I did the only thing I could think of.  I went to the baking aisle and found a Duncan Hines German Chocolate cake mix for $2.99.  No question, that was going into the hand basket.  Using my chin to knock it from the shelf into the hand basket, it only took two dropping on the floor before achieving.  

Store help picks up these aisles at least once a week anyway.  No big deal!

Perusing the box's directions, a terrible thought hit me.  The $2.99 doesn't include icing!  A German Chocolate cake has got to have icing!  Coconut icing with pecans is a must!  Where's the icing in this damn place?

Remember, I was in a panic trying to beat the men in white coats from arriving.  "They're coming to take me away, ha ha, they're coming to take me away, ho ho, to the funny farm, where life is happy and gay, everyday...."   (It's a novelty song from the 60's.  If you've never heard it, consider yourself one of the lucky ones.)

There, just down from the cake mixes, was the icing.  Amazing they would use logic in their placement!  

Must have been an error in judgment on their part.

I see they're $2.49 per can, or three for $5.00.  My panic increases as it suddenly hits me I have absolutely no idea how many cans would it take to ice a cake!!!   1...5...10... I have no idea.  I look up and down the aisle.  What!  Only one small, middle aged oriental woman in the whole aisle.  

I must have either scared the others away previously, or store management had been busy clearing the area for the men in white coats!

I tried to ask her but only got a kind smile and a shaking of the head in return.  

Why are there so many really nice, great English speaking oriental individuals on the writing sites and none in grocery stores or restaurants?  Sounds like another blog topic for later on!

Again, using my chin, I decided the sale sign was a sign from God and that it would take three cans of icing to ice a cake.  If not, I could always use it on my wheat toast in the morning.

That was a joke, but I may have to give it a try one day.  Hmmmmm!

Knowing my time was growing shorter by the second, I ran down the aisle a Mach 7 speed and arrived at the check out.  Remarkably, next in line was a lady I'd worked with years ago.

After the initial "how you beens", she said something that absolutely made my day.

"You've lost a lot of weight!"

I proceeded to tell her my complete weight loss and medical history, sounding like a great grandmother talking to her best friends at a church social.  The efforts, the heartbreak, the restrictions, the success...all were related to her in a moment's notice.

Isn't vanity grand?

Then she noticed the two pizza's and the German Chocolate cake mix and icing.

Oops!

I then related my tale of woe and obsession.  A reward for victory validation.  A story of conflict and adventure.  Searching for a slice and having no alternatives but to purchase as I did.

She smiled in understanding and asked if I was going to eat the whole thing.  I replied no, I was buying the pizzas so my wife wouldn't have to cook, and that she'd probably take some of the cake to others she worked with so I wouldn't be fighting temptation.

Then she said, "Well, you sure look good!  Keep in contact.  We need to see each other more often!"

Like I started this whole thing off with, there's nothing like feeling almost as good as I did at the grocery store today!  Had she just made a pass at me?  "Yeah, right Ripvanrumple!"

When I arrived home, I found my wife napping, having just worked a ten hour shift.  After a couple of hours, I went into the bedroom, gently woke her, and told her the story of the pizzas to keep her from having to cook.  She was so pleased!  

Then, I told her I'd bought a cake.  A German Chocolate cake that I'd been wanting for almost a month.  And, it had coconut and pecan icing!  She was smiling as I related that.  I could tell she wanted some, too!

Then, I told her all she had to do was bake it.

I guess she knows me by now.  She laughed and said she'd do it tomorrow on her day off!

So, I'll get my cake and get to eat it, too!

Life is wonderful!  

Would you like an apple?

©Copyright RCRUMPLE2012. All Rights Reserved

$9 An Hour: A Job Fair To Hell

Okay, so this may be a little over the top for a job fair.
But, It got your attention, didn't it?
- Wikimedia Commons -

For several months, I've been searching for a job that pays more than $9 an hour.  Now, I recognize that may sound rash to some, but let's look at the qualifications I offer.  

1. Corporate Training Director with publications in Sales Training, Customer Retention, and Business Development Centers, and experience in training nationwide.
2. Retail, Sales and District management positions for over 20 years
3. Previous business developer and owner in Privacy Law Compliance
4. Previous positions in commanding audiences in Stand-up Comedy and Radio Broadcasting
5. Previous Military experience.

Six digit income figures were mine for many years.  So, should I, or should I not, be expectant of finding a position that offered more than $9 per hour?   Or, have I simply fooled myself all these years believing that I should earn more that a cashier at McDonald's?  

(Please don't answer that.  Allow me a few moments of self respect.  

It's become such a rarity.)

Hasn't our current President stated many times that he's bringing these type of jobs back?  Or, could that simply be political rhetoric?  Please, don't destroy my belief that a politician would only be saying something to get re-elected!  However would I live through tomorrow if this were the case?  

(Okay, damn it, I'm not that naive.)

You can imagine my enthusiasm when word came down the email pipes that a VA Job Fair would be held!  Finally, manufacturers that appreciate those that took years from their lives to protect the country and the businesses and people it stood for!  Plus, I couldn't wait to ride the Ferris Wheel!  

(Okay, I said that as an effort to make you smile.  

I know it was cheap, but it works on 9 out of 10 dentists.)

So, this morning I put the suit, tie, white shirt, and polished shoes on, blow dried my hair for the first time in ages, and let optimism rule my attitude as I drove to the Job Fair.  With me, I carried a leather pouch containing 20 resumes, folders for booth dweller information packets, and a pad on which to take notes.  I was ready.   

When I arrived, I found I was the only one in a suit and tie.  Oh, did I forget the white shirt and polished shoes?  Sorry.  I must be still in shock from what I saw.

Previous Job Fairs I participated in as a booth dweller provided mine was the proper dress.  Instead, I found girls and boys in T-shirts and the occasional Polo shirt, in shorts and tennis shoes.  

Has Ripvanrumple really been away that long?  My, I must be living in the past.  I thought the goal of the booth dweller was to exude success to inspire desires of the attendees to want to be employed by such a prestigious corporation.  

And, Yes Virginia, along with Santa Claus there's the Easter Bunny, 

Tooth Fairy, and Keebler Elves.

There weren't even booths set up.  Round tables encircled the center of the room with tiny, handwritten signs letting you know who the occupant was.  It was almost as though they were hiding from the attendees, and everything and body else.

Let's see, Job Fair... a place for employers to prospect for employees.  Why hide?  If you didn't want to be there, all you had to do was stay home!  That's right, these boys and girls were the new era of human resource people.  Folks that couldn't do the jobs they offered, but knew the right people to hire to do them!  

(Isn't that like saying, "I'm an expert that can't do a damn thing"?)

I began to wish I had stayed at home, too.  But, I shut down that tiny voice of negativity and believed it would be a journey that would lead to Nirvana!  

 (I guess I'd forgotten the band was no more.)

This was what was expected.  It was not what was found!
- Wikimedia Commons -

First stop, a chemical manufacturer.  "We're hiring general maintenance and temporary shift workers only.  Starting pay is $8.50 an hour.  You're probably looking for something more professional though, aren't you?"

"No shit!  I can't wait to dip my hands into dangerous chemicals and kill myself 

for such a deserving wage!"  Without a heavy heart, I moved on.

Next stop, a famous copier company.  "We're hiring customer service reps only at this time.  You can check our website for future office hiring.  If you're interested in the CSR position, it starts at $9 an hour."

"Yeah, I'm real interested.  By the way, have you read any good books lately?"

Next stop, a very famous Japanese Auto Manufacturer.  "This is the temp service that supplies all of our line workers.  We start at 9.50 per hour and hold it there for six months.  If we decide to keep you at that time, the wage goes up to $13 an hour."

"How often do you hire new people, every six months?  That would explain why you're here today.  Why pay the current zombies on the line $13, when you can fire them and get new ones for $9?  Yep, this is a place that can guarantee years of job security!  

Sign me up now!"

Please don't let my sarcasm depress you.  By this time, I was beginning to make a game of it to keep my sanity.  

(I know, I'm strange!  You're not the first to think that way!  

My mother knew it at birth (mine, not hers).

Of course, there was the typical lawn care table looking for lawn mowers and leave rakers for $8 an hour, as well as the construction crews that were hiring material helpers for $8 an hour.  

Does the expression "kid in a candy shop" sound a little out of place here?

On and on it went.  Unless you were under 36 years of age and willing to work for the DEA, there wasn't one position available for more than the $9.50 already described.

As I walked out, a person entering looked at me and asked, "Is there anything good in there?"

"Are you willing to work for $9 an hour?" I asked.

His response was, "Are you kidding?  I make more than that on unemployment!"

"Well, welcome to the way America treats its veterans"  I replied.  

When I started humming, the National Anthem, he followed me out.

I'd done something good for the day.  I'd spared him the agony of discovering the truth for himself.  I was proud of myself.  It must be God's will!

Driving away, I reflected upon what I had experienced.  At no time were any qualifications discussed.  At no time was I asked for a resume.  At no time was I treated with any type of respect.  It was as though the manufacturers and businesses thought they were offering the world in the salaries that couldn't support even the most frugal of families.

I'd been referred to seven home office websites to check for future openings, been completely ignored by those at seven tables, and found six tables completely empty as several folks were eating box lunches back in the corner.  

At least they got a free lunch.  

I decided to end it all and commit suicide.  It was my only course of action left.  So, I drove into Hardee's and purchased their $5 Big Bag lunch!  Two double cheeseburgers, fries, medium drink, and an apple turnover all in one bag.  I wondered to myself, "How do they do that?" 

 (No, not really.  That was said for comedic affect.)  

I knew death would be painful, but at least I'd be giving a $9 an hour employee something to do.  

God Bless 'em all!

©Copyright RCRUMPLE2012. All Rights Reserved