Hello Kid-lets,
So I present to you another Mental Monday!
This is one from a way back in my own past. One with a few cobwebs, but something recently came up and reminded me of it.
The back story...
This happened a couple of years ago when I was just starting my intimate apparel sales career. I had done clothes, food, books and many other things, this one was brand new to me.
I was training to become a manager at a different location, and as the newbie, I got the jobs on the lower end of the totem pole.
This one was cleaning panty tables. It had been a busy saturday and the table was a heaping pile of easily 500 or so pairs of panties.
I scratched my head is dismay but started in one corner and just went it at it.
Right near the end, I found 3 pairs of panties that had some sort of crusted stain. Now I am familiar with food stains on clothes, customers who come in to browse and don't pay attention with their drinks or food, but I did not recognize this particular stain.
I picked them up (not by the stain I swear) and took them to my training manager. I asked her what it was.
She looked at my with eyes wide as saucers and said.
"Cut those up, and GO WASH YOUR HANDS."
right in that shining moment, it dawned on me what that crusty substance was...
EEWWWWW!!!!
LADIES, IF YOU ARE TRYING ON PANTIES OR SWIMSUIT BOTTOMS, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LEAVE YOUR OWN PANTIES ON UNDER THEM. NOBODY WANTS TO BUY PANTIES THAT HAVE BEEN WORN BEFORE. WE HAVE NO IDEA WHATS BEEN IN THERE!
[This message has been brought to you on behalf of Mental Mondays on the Running Commentary of the Creatively Crazy]
Monday, April 16, 2012
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Sunday Sweets- Random Encounters
Today I have a video for you, that should bring back some fond memories.
or.. memories of frustration
I bring to you...
LIVE ACTION POKEMON!!!
Check it out Biatches!
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifNumber 1 of many laughs
or.. memories of frustration
I bring to you...
LIVE ACTION POKEMON!!!
Check it out Biatches!
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifNumber 1 of many laughs
Monday, April 9, 2012
Mental Mondays- What Color is my Collar?
Hello Everyone,
I bring to you the tales of the retail wage slave!
Today I bring a mini rant about the snobbish ways of the Holier than though customer who thinks just because they don't have a retail job, they are automatically better than those of us who work in retail.
This particular story comes from a coworker of mine who had to deal with a particular seedy specimen. As I work in the middle of downtown, I am surrounded by business people all day. And I will openly admit that most of them are the nicest people I have ever met, but every once in a while... well... they leave an impression
So for this retelling of this particular story, we will call her "Lindsay".
So Lindsay was helping this one middle aged man through the hoodies, as he was looking for one to wear under his winter coat We had ones lined with this fluffy sherpa wool and they were super warm and perfect for him. Lindsay started telling him that she had just bought it for her boyfriend and that it looked super cute on him. He interupts her and states this particular statement
Customer: Is there anything in here that is not made for construction workers? I am not a blue collar worker!"
Lisaday: ... Excuse me?
She left him strictly alone after that.
We do not sell business suits, we do not sell dress slacks or shirts, that is not what we have ever or will ever sell. We sell jeans, hoodies and t-shirts. I'm sorry, I did not know that white collared workers don't wear jeans, and t-shirts on their day off, that they eat breathe and sleep in their crisply pressed brooks brothers suits.
for about 10$ for everything in the store... what the hell do you expect.
And this is by far not the first time any person has ever looked down their nose at me based solely on my profession. Don't assume that because I work at the local mall that I have no higher education. Excuse you, I have post secondary education, I could go into dozens of different office jobs (and not a secretary) or even enter a trade whenever I want, but that is not where my passion is. I have yet to find my true calling.. and trust me, I am on the hunt for it. I will go into whatever my heart wants...
Anywho...
I'll see you next monday!!!
Cheers!
I bring to you the tales of the retail wage slave!
Today I bring a mini rant about the snobbish ways of the Holier than though customer who thinks just because they don't have a retail job, they are automatically better than those of us who work in retail.
This particular story comes from a coworker of mine who had to deal with a particular seedy specimen. As I work in the middle of downtown, I am surrounded by business people all day. And I will openly admit that most of them are the nicest people I have ever met, but every once in a while... well... they leave an impression
So for this retelling of this particular story, we will call her "Lindsay".
So Lindsay was helping this one middle aged man through the hoodies, as he was looking for one to wear under his winter coat We had ones lined with this fluffy sherpa wool and they were super warm and perfect for him. Lindsay started telling him that she had just bought it for her boyfriend and that it looked super cute on him. He interupts her and states this particular statement
Customer: Is there anything in here that is not made for construction workers? I am not a blue collar worker!"
Lisaday: ... Excuse me?
She left him strictly alone after that.
We do not sell business suits, we do not sell dress slacks or shirts, that is not what we have ever or will ever sell. We sell jeans, hoodies and t-shirts. I'm sorry, I did not know that white collared workers don't wear jeans, and t-shirts on their day off, that they eat breathe and sleep in their crisply pressed brooks brothers suits.
for about 10$ for everything in the store... what the hell do you expect.
And this is by far not the first time any person has ever looked down their nose at me based solely on my profession. Don't assume that because I work at the local mall that I have no higher education. Excuse you, I have post secondary education, I could go into dozens of different office jobs (and not a secretary) or even enter a trade whenever I want, but that is not where my passion is. I have yet to find my true calling.. and trust me, I am on the hunt for it. I will go into whatever my heart wants...
Anywho...
I'll see you next monday!!!
Cheers!
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Sunday Sweet- Awesome Sauce
Today I bring you a Sunday Sweet:
The first episode of Space Girl!
By one of the funniest people on youtube, Barelypolitical
They make the absolute best parody's I have ever seen! and I know you will love them too
Check it out Space Girl
Enjoy!
The first episode of Space Girl!
By one of the funniest people on youtube, Barelypolitical
They make the absolute best parody's I have ever seen! and I know you will love them too
Check it out Space Girl
Enjoy!
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
A Sneak Peak
I have a special something for you. A sneak peak of my back story for the Star Wars RPG I play! This is the prologue, the foundation to where my tale will take you.
This is version I would say... 10 maybe? I have the issue of chronically changing my mind and consistently being dissatisfied with my own art. A true artist's curse.
Well I have edited it as much as I can without just reciting it back in my own mind, with a bored mundane tone. And I am braving the scrutiny of the internet to bring you a snippet of the fruit of my labors, the creation drawn out by the sweep of my hand and mind in harmony.
Alright, alright, here...
___________________________________________________
A small transport ship with a few passengers left the orbit of a planet called Alpheridies. Aboard the ship were a group of sightless beings called Miralukas. Most of them were young Jedi padawans leaving the academy of the planet of Alpheridies to take them to the Jedi Temple of Coruscant. There were two older Miralukas aboard, a man with a young barely pregnant woman. With his eyeless gaze, the man inspected the padawans with disdain. He kept his anger in check at the Jedi who hounded his people for the force sensitive. Took the children away from their families and the little ones never saw their families again.
They had come and collected his older brother, Jemire, with their smiling faces and emotionless gazes. They ranted about the greater good and the great feats he would achieve with the Jedi. He was shipped out off of Alpheridies to Coruscant within a week. A few months later different Jedi came to their home with news of Jemire's death. Slain at the hand of Empire troops, early in the war. His brother had been stolen away from him. Roster Barret scowled at the memory of his own parents reaction to the news. His mother was devastated and never quite the same again, with sporadic outburst of lunacy and rants,until she eventually took her own life in her grif. His father talked about honour and glory of going down with the Jedi, for a noble cause and the good of mankind. Funny, Roster never looked at it like that, and he had never forgiven them for letting Jemire perish for nothing. Roster sneered at one that was shooting quick glances at them. The young miraluka kept his gaze forward, unsure as to the hostility this man displayed.
Miralukas were known to be force sensitive, the species aboard this transport could see only through the great power of the universe known as the Force. All of them wearing blindfolds to hide the lack of eyes. A Miraluka who was exceptionally strong in the Force could even be able to detect other strong force users with a powerful aura. Because of this power, Jedi's and Sith tried to recruit people of these species. With a Jedi Academy on Alpheridies, they rallied and recruited them. They filled the heads of the children and parents with glorious tales of Jedi commanding the force. With so many heroes to aspire to be like, the children couldn't wait to be taken away to be wasted in the battlefield before they were ready. The younger, the better, easier to brainwash.
The Ship they were on shook violently as it left the atmosphere and the young lady clutched her husbands arm.
“You're sure these is okay for the baby?”
He bade her quiet and assured her it was safe.
“Where are we going, Roster?” she whispered, fear creeping into her voice.
“Away, Laura” He said reassuringly. “Away from here, where our baby can be safe and we can raise our baby without these people hounding us and trying to take them away.” Resentment hung heavy on his words.
The one youngling glanced back at them and then looked away, trying to forget what he had heard.
They got off that ship on a trading route station. Standing in the loading dock, they looked up at the giant departure board, with its flashing lights and rows upon rows of shuttles to chose from. Making a quick decision, they boarded a small rickety shuttle, cramped with people and headed back to the outer rim to the planet Genarius. Their long journey ended at Depatar, a floating city above the gas planet, also the seedy underbelly of the black market, where anyone can make a name for themselves and anonymity was key for business.
With what little luggage they had, the couple stood on an elevator going up at thousands of feet per second. Roster couldn't help but gaze out the clear side to get a glimpse of their new home. they had already passed the bottom 250 levels, which were all storage facilities and small markets. Absently pressing against the glass of the elevator, Roster looked to see 100 levels of living quarters. Somewhere in there was to be the place they would call home. He continued looking up until he saw the lavish hotels and palaces on the top 50 levels. He gawked at the citizens who sported masks, elaborate and jewelled, to their meetings. Roster had heard about the nickname “City of Masks” and the law that stated you had to wear a mask to trade, but he was still surprised to see it. He immediately saw the sense behind wanting to keep identities safe of the clients and also the identity of the seller.
With his young wife and new baby girl, Roster worked hard to climb his way to success. Making contacts in any form of merchandise available. Weapons, equipment, money trading and even assassins for hire. His business really took off when he started dealing with the Brotherhood of Darkness, the army of the Sith to oppose the Jedi and their republic. He provided most of the weapons used by their troops, knowing that he would never go out of business with the Empire. With the war raging through the galaxy like wild fire, there was profit to be made of trading the best kind of weapons available. With the Brotherhood being such a recognized client, the scum of the planet trusted that this particular vendor could make whatever they wanted happen. Soon enough, Roster was able move his family up the chain to the 59th level, just below the crime families living quarters.
Every day he would come home and pick up his baby from her crib and coo in her face. Glad to be rid of the fear that one day she would be taken away from them.
“Aneena.” He called her. He looked into her eyeless face, as she smiled at him, and thought about her future. He would provide her with everything she would ever want. Roster looked back to see his beautiful wife with fiery red hair glowing like a halo from the light in the hall behind her. Her generous lips curved into a smile her hand perched on her rounded hip. He looked back the child with his wife's beautiful hair growing on her round head. She suckled on her fingers and slept easily in his embrace.
“Laura.” He said lovingly, holding out his arm to her. She came under his arm and they basked in their happiness in their new life, rocking the baby together into a peaceful slumber, cradled in in his arms.
The child grew and Roster adored her. With plans for her to take over for him one day, he made sure to expose her to the business even as a toddler. He laughed as she ran around, hiding behind the shelving units in the warehouse, with wavy ruby hair following her as a cape. Even with his most questionable clients, he had great pride that she could handle it. Roster spent extensive care with her . She learned 5 languages and etiquette of many different cultures. They spent hours conversing in any other language then their native miralukese. Laura would just laugh, humming to herself watching her dear loved ones from the kitchen.
A full decade after her birth, he started taking her around with him. Aneena was a well behaved child and it seemed to mollify his clients a bit, especially their crude language. It didn't stop some bad apples trying to take advantage of him. Generally the nobles and politicians who thought they were above the law and used to getting their own way. They would try to under pay him or falsely claim that the merchandise was not as requested, and they wanted every last one of their credits back. But Roster would send his little angel out on a menial errand, get her to leave the room and set things straight with a little help of his hired help. Those clients were refused there after and word would spread around Depatar, an unofficial Do-Not-Trade list with the Depatar natives, who did not take being duped very well. Wherever they went on this planet, most of the vendors would now refuse to sell anything to any of them.
A few weeks later, Roster was with his wife and child at their favorite restaurant. They ate there every week at the same time. He had memories of hours and hours of laughter and love in this place. He looked at his wife. Her face in a laugh that made her dimples show, he looked to his daughter and saw her grinning, kicking her feet playfully under her chair. She was trying to patiently wait for her dessert to come, but could barely contain her excitement and effectively bouncing in her chair. The waiter, a dark blue twi'lek, swooped in and deposited the check. There was also a small datapad with a message on it. Roster's heart sank to his stomach.
Goodbye Old Friend,With Warm Regards, your “Loyal” Clients
This was a death message. With a sharp intake of breath, fear seized his lungs, he grabbed his wife's arm and beckoned to his little girl. Laura looked at him with alarm, his own face probably reflected his fear. When they were both beside him, he whispered to them both.
“Run!”
He took off with their arms in tow. A rumbling started behind him and Roster didn't look back. He knew the place was about to go up in a ruin of flames. The heat was starting to burn at his back. Knowing that he did not have time to escape, he dove to the ground, and covered his wife's back with his. He looked up to get his child in his protective huddle and saw that she was on her hands and knees, a few feet away, looking back at what was chasing them.
“Aneena.” Laura called out to her.
There it was, in the distance, the growing flame that would soon consume them. The loud boom that followed shook the ground they stood on. He reached out to her, desperate to try and save her, pull her in with them. He managed to wrap his arms around her but before he could bring her back to Laura Roster knew it was too late.
As the flames was about to engulf them, Aneena outstretched her arms and held the flames off of them. Roster buried his head into her hair. The heat of the fire was still licking at his skin even through the invisible shield that seemed to shield himself and his daughter from burning. He looked up to see where Laura was and was frozen in fear. He saw that she was feet away from them, and if he could hear her over the roar of the explosion, she would be screaming as the her flesh melted away. Her mouth open in a tortured cry. The flame licked at the exposed bone quickly charring it and disintegrating it to ash swept up in the ball of fire. Within seconds, the woman he loved was gone, without a trace, or a body to bury.
As the sea of flames receded, the little girl in his arms lost consciousness. He was paralysed in confusion. What had just happened? How had Aneena stopped the fire from consuming them? Roster had a moment of hate that she didn't save her mother, but then chided himself. She was all he had left. He clutched her in his arms, brushing furiously at the soot marks on her face, and cried out in agony. Laura, she was gone.
In a haze, he sat on a bench outside the restaurant. G.A.S troops milling around, searching for any other survivors in the rubble. Aneena was still unconscious, with a doctor and medical droid looking over her. Roster clutched at the blanket that they had draped on him. With a surreal clarity, he knew what he would have to do next.
His business didn't suffer from explosion, within a week he was back on his feet and trading, but Roster felt differently about his life on Depatar. The honeymoon veil was ripped away forcibly and now he looked at it with bleakness. First things first, the culprits would pay for this offence. Roster would take nothing less then their lives. The payments were made and the assassins sent.
He knew they would be dead before morning, the assassins had already checked in pictures sent of them. One of them bathing unaware of any watchers, the other one in bed with his mistress. It would send a message to anyone dealt with him. They would know never to cross Roster Barret again, or you would pay in blood.
The trainer he hired would be here next week to meet with Aneena. He had the reputation of being the best of the best and nothing else would be acceptable. Tomorrow, he would be meeting with a certain medical professional with an experimental procedure that the doctor had been hounding him to try it. Especially with Aneena, he wanted to experiment with children to see the development. As repulsed as Roster was with the thought of someone touching his child, he could not deny the use of this surgery. Tomorrow.
A few days later he called for Aneena. His man servant went and retrieved her early in the morning. He came in shuffling, still not quite awake. He smiled at her sheepish smile and held his hand out for her. She took it and waited for him to speak, tugging at the hem of her new dress. She had been quieter since her mother had passed, but she held it together with grace quite uncommon for children.
“Aneena, good morning.” he said to her. She smiled and mumbled a good morning back.
“I have something to show you” He said. Roster took both of her hands in his and brought them up to where their eyes should be if Miralukas could possess them.
Newly put in to the empty eye sockets were two prosthetic eyes. He could see out of them. But the sight wasn't nearly as good as the force sight that their species had. But in a pinch where the force was not present, they would do. They were mostly for show. Their milky white gaze felt like they could penetrate and even the doctor shivered when Roster looked at him. They were perfect.
“Do you feel them?” He said placing her his face on his new eyes. She smiled when he smiled when her hands were on his lips. They travelled upwards touching his brow and ears. When she touched his eyes she gasped and got excited.
“What are these, Dad?”
“They're eyes.” She gasped again.
“Where did you get them?”
“Would you like them too?” She shook her head up and down. “Well, today is your lucky day then.”
He made arrangements for them to get there within the hour. He held her hand firmly as they sped through the city to one of the lower levels. She shook with anticipation and fear as they got closer and closer. They walked hand in hand to a storage building that had been redone to be a medical facility. It was not apparent from the exterior, but he trusted this man. Aneena pressed close to his side, the fear stronger now. They entered into the office and saw the older human man who was the doctor doing the experiment. The man cringed at the sight of Roster's eyes gazing at him with new found clarity, bare from the blindfold that normally adorned his face.
“This is my daughter Aneena.” He looked back to see her nervously tucking her red hair behind her ears and her own blindfold. The doctor regained his composure and smiled warmly at the 10 year old clutching Roster's arm.
“It's perfectly safe, my dear. You already have the eye sockets, so we are merely implanting the prosthetics and constructing lids and tear ducts.”
He nodded furiously, trying to convince the child to come to him.
“Come with me.” He beckoned to her, his hand outstretched. She slowly took it and followed with a scared glance back at Roster. He followed at a distance, down a long shiny chrome hallway. The nurse stopped him at the door. He was told that he wasn't allowed past this point. He looked in to see Aneena adorned in green scrubs. Her hair swept up in a hair cap. She sat down cautiously in the chair that leaned precariously back. She startled and screamed a little when the metal restraints snapped into place with a loud clang that echoes down the hall. Roster winced at her petrified face, but knew it was for the best.
The doctor nodded at her and seemed to be trying to calm her down. He was waving a sharp scalpel in one gloved hand, Roster banged on the door and beckoned for him to stop waving the scalpel around. The nurse came and bade him to stop. He saw Aneena on the verge of panic and and stopped. He wanted more than anything to be in there holding her hand, or at least have his wife there to hold his hand, and reassure him it was for the best. Roster had to close his eyes. He leaned his forehead on the window sill of the door. He let out a deep breath, unaware the he was holding it in. He knew what was coming next. Anaesthetic was not administered. It was essential that the subject remain aware of what was happening and be able to communicate with the doctor. A small paralytic was given just to stop them from thrashing around. Roster bit his lower lip when he heard the excruciating scream. It haunted his ears knowing he had willingly put her through this. She screamed again and it broke into sobbing. A low murmuring of the doctor was ominous at best. He had to walk away, the screaming echoing down the hall behind him.
He knew that he had a long path ahead of him, full of treachery and deception. The life he chose would always put him on the edge and he felt hardened on the inside. The feeling in his gut was peacefully still with acceptance that he would have to be more cut throat with the people who would cross the line. The cloudy darkness loomed into his heart and with a fierce burning of a lesson hard learned. His family would never pay for his carelessness again. He looked back into that room where the man leaned over his daughter, with blood covering his hands and forearms, and knew he would do whatever it took to keep her safe for always.
This is version I would say... 10 maybe? I have the issue of chronically changing my mind and consistently being dissatisfied with my own art. A true artist's curse.
Well I have edited it as much as I can without just reciting it back in my own mind, with a bored mundane tone. And I am braving the scrutiny of the internet to bring you a snippet of the fruit of my labors, the creation drawn out by the sweep of my hand and mind in harmony.
Alright, alright, here...
___________________________________________________
A small transport ship with a few passengers left the orbit of a planet called Alpheridies. Aboard the ship were a group of sightless beings called Miralukas. Most of them were young Jedi padawans leaving the academy of the planet of Alpheridies to take them to the Jedi Temple of Coruscant. There were two older Miralukas aboard, a man with a young barely pregnant woman. With his eyeless gaze, the man inspected the padawans with disdain. He kept his anger in check at the Jedi who hounded his people for the force sensitive. Took the children away from their families and the little ones never saw their families again.
They had come and collected his older brother, Jemire, with their smiling faces and emotionless gazes. They ranted about the greater good and the great feats he would achieve with the Jedi. He was shipped out off of Alpheridies to Coruscant within a week. A few months later different Jedi came to their home with news of Jemire's death. Slain at the hand of Empire troops, early in the war. His brother had been stolen away from him. Roster Barret scowled at the memory of his own parents reaction to the news. His mother was devastated and never quite the same again, with sporadic outburst of lunacy and rants,until she eventually took her own life in her grif. His father talked about honour and glory of going down with the Jedi, for a noble cause and the good of mankind. Funny, Roster never looked at it like that, and he had never forgiven them for letting Jemire perish for nothing. Roster sneered at one that was shooting quick glances at them. The young miraluka kept his gaze forward, unsure as to the hostility this man displayed.
Miralukas were known to be force sensitive, the species aboard this transport could see only through the great power of the universe known as the Force. All of them wearing blindfolds to hide the lack of eyes. A Miraluka who was exceptionally strong in the Force could even be able to detect other strong force users with a powerful aura. Because of this power, Jedi's and Sith tried to recruit people of these species. With a Jedi Academy on Alpheridies, they rallied and recruited them. They filled the heads of the children and parents with glorious tales of Jedi commanding the force. With so many heroes to aspire to be like, the children couldn't wait to be taken away to be wasted in the battlefield before they were ready. The younger, the better, easier to brainwash.
The Ship they were on shook violently as it left the atmosphere and the young lady clutched her husbands arm.
“You're sure these is okay for the baby?”
He bade her quiet and assured her it was safe.
“Where are we going, Roster?” she whispered, fear creeping into her voice.
“Away, Laura” He said reassuringly. “Away from here, where our baby can be safe and we can raise our baby without these people hounding us and trying to take them away.” Resentment hung heavy on his words.
The one youngling glanced back at them and then looked away, trying to forget what he had heard.
They got off that ship on a trading route station. Standing in the loading dock, they looked up at the giant departure board, with its flashing lights and rows upon rows of shuttles to chose from. Making a quick decision, they boarded a small rickety shuttle, cramped with people and headed back to the outer rim to the planet Genarius. Their long journey ended at Depatar, a floating city above the gas planet, also the seedy underbelly of the black market, where anyone can make a name for themselves and anonymity was key for business.
With what little luggage they had, the couple stood on an elevator going up at thousands of feet per second. Roster couldn't help but gaze out the clear side to get a glimpse of their new home. they had already passed the bottom 250 levels, which were all storage facilities and small markets. Absently pressing against the glass of the elevator, Roster looked to see 100 levels of living quarters. Somewhere in there was to be the place they would call home. He continued looking up until he saw the lavish hotels and palaces on the top 50 levels. He gawked at the citizens who sported masks, elaborate and jewelled, to their meetings. Roster had heard about the nickname “City of Masks” and the law that stated you had to wear a mask to trade, but he was still surprised to see it. He immediately saw the sense behind wanting to keep identities safe of the clients and also the identity of the seller.
With his young wife and new baby girl, Roster worked hard to climb his way to success. Making contacts in any form of merchandise available. Weapons, equipment, money trading and even assassins for hire. His business really took off when he started dealing with the Brotherhood of Darkness, the army of the Sith to oppose the Jedi and their republic. He provided most of the weapons used by their troops, knowing that he would never go out of business with the Empire. With the war raging through the galaxy like wild fire, there was profit to be made of trading the best kind of weapons available. With the Brotherhood being such a recognized client, the scum of the planet trusted that this particular vendor could make whatever they wanted happen. Soon enough, Roster was able move his family up the chain to the 59th level, just below the crime families living quarters.
Every day he would come home and pick up his baby from her crib and coo in her face. Glad to be rid of the fear that one day she would be taken away from them.
“Aneena.” He called her. He looked into her eyeless face, as she smiled at him, and thought about her future. He would provide her with everything she would ever want. Roster looked back to see his beautiful wife with fiery red hair glowing like a halo from the light in the hall behind her. Her generous lips curved into a smile her hand perched on her rounded hip. He looked back the child with his wife's beautiful hair growing on her round head. She suckled on her fingers and slept easily in his embrace.
“Laura.” He said lovingly, holding out his arm to her. She came under his arm and they basked in their happiness in their new life, rocking the baby together into a peaceful slumber, cradled in in his arms.
The child grew and Roster adored her. With plans for her to take over for him one day, he made sure to expose her to the business even as a toddler. He laughed as she ran around, hiding behind the shelving units in the warehouse, with wavy ruby hair following her as a cape. Even with his most questionable clients, he had great pride that she could handle it. Roster spent extensive care with her . She learned 5 languages and etiquette of many different cultures. They spent hours conversing in any other language then their native miralukese. Laura would just laugh, humming to herself watching her dear loved ones from the kitchen.
A full decade after her birth, he started taking her around with him. Aneena was a well behaved child and it seemed to mollify his clients a bit, especially their crude language. It didn't stop some bad apples trying to take advantage of him. Generally the nobles and politicians who thought they were above the law and used to getting their own way. They would try to under pay him or falsely claim that the merchandise was not as requested, and they wanted every last one of their credits back. But Roster would send his little angel out on a menial errand, get her to leave the room and set things straight with a little help of his hired help. Those clients were refused there after and word would spread around Depatar, an unofficial Do-Not-Trade list with the Depatar natives, who did not take being duped very well. Wherever they went on this planet, most of the vendors would now refuse to sell anything to any of them.
A few weeks later, Roster was with his wife and child at their favorite restaurant. They ate there every week at the same time. He had memories of hours and hours of laughter and love in this place. He looked at his wife. Her face in a laugh that made her dimples show, he looked to his daughter and saw her grinning, kicking her feet playfully under her chair. She was trying to patiently wait for her dessert to come, but could barely contain her excitement and effectively bouncing in her chair. The waiter, a dark blue twi'lek, swooped in and deposited the check. There was also a small datapad with a message on it. Roster's heart sank to his stomach.
Goodbye Old Friend,With Warm Regards, your “Loyal” Clients
This was a death message. With a sharp intake of breath, fear seized his lungs, he grabbed his wife's arm and beckoned to his little girl. Laura looked at him with alarm, his own face probably reflected his fear. When they were both beside him, he whispered to them both.
“Run!”
He took off with their arms in tow. A rumbling started behind him and Roster didn't look back. He knew the place was about to go up in a ruin of flames. The heat was starting to burn at his back. Knowing that he did not have time to escape, he dove to the ground, and covered his wife's back with his. He looked up to get his child in his protective huddle and saw that she was on her hands and knees, a few feet away, looking back at what was chasing them.
“Aneena.” Laura called out to her.
There it was, in the distance, the growing flame that would soon consume them. The loud boom that followed shook the ground they stood on. He reached out to her, desperate to try and save her, pull her in with them. He managed to wrap his arms around her but before he could bring her back to Laura Roster knew it was too late.
As the flames was about to engulf them, Aneena outstretched her arms and held the flames off of them. Roster buried his head into her hair. The heat of the fire was still licking at his skin even through the invisible shield that seemed to shield himself and his daughter from burning. He looked up to see where Laura was and was frozen in fear. He saw that she was feet away from them, and if he could hear her over the roar of the explosion, she would be screaming as the her flesh melted away. Her mouth open in a tortured cry. The flame licked at the exposed bone quickly charring it and disintegrating it to ash swept up in the ball of fire. Within seconds, the woman he loved was gone, without a trace, or a body to bury.
As the sea of flames receded, the little girl in his arms lost consciousness. He was paralysed in confusion. What had just happened? How had Aneena stopped the fire from consuming them? Roster had a moment of hate that she didn't save her mother, but then chided himself. She was all he had left. He clutched her in his arms, brushing furiously at the soot marks on her face, and cried out in agony. Laura, she was gone.
In a haze, he sat on a bench outside the restaurant. G.A.S troops milling around, searching for any other survivors in the rubble. Aneena was still unconscious, with a doctor and medical droid looking over her. Roster clutched at the blanket that they had draped on him. With a surreal clarity, he knew what he would have to do next.
His business didn't suffer from explosion, within a week he was back on his feet and trading, but Roster felt differently about his life on Depatar. The honeymoon veil was ripped away forcibly and now he looked at it with bleakness. First things first, the culprits would pay for this offence. Roster would take nothing less then their lives. The payments were made and the assassins sent.
He knew they would be dead before morning, the assassins had already checked in pictures sent of them. One of them bathing unaware of any watchers, the other one in bed with his mistress. It would send a message to anyone dealt with him. They would know never to cross Roster Barret again, or you would pay in blood.
The trainer he hired would be here next week to meet with Aneena. He had the reputation of being the best of the best and nothing else would be acceptable. Tomorrow, he would be meeting with a certain medical professional with an experimental procedure that the doctor had been hounding him to try it. Especially with Aneena, he wanted to experiment with children to see the development. As repulsed as Roster was with the thought of someone touching his child, he could not deny the use of this surgery. Tomorrow.
A few days later he called for Aneena. His man servant went and retrieved her early in the morning. He came in shuffling, still not quite awake. He smiled at her sheepish smile and held his hand out for her. She took it and waited for him to speak, tugging at the hem of her new dress. She had been quieter since her mother had passed, but she held it together with grace quite uncommon for children.
“Aneena, good morning.” he said to her. She smiled and mumbled a good morning back.
“I have something to show you” He said. Roster took both of her hands in his and brought them up to where their eyes should be if Miralukas could possess them.
Newly put in to the empty eye sockets were two prosthetic eyes. He could see out of them. But the sight wasn't nearly as good as the force sight that their species had. But in a pinch where the force was not present, they would do. They were mostly for show. Their milky white gaze felt like they could penetrate and even the doctor shivered when Roster looked at him. They were perfect.
“Do you feel them?” He said placing her his face on his new eyes. She smiled when he smiled when her hands were on his lips. They travelled upwards touching his brow and ears. When she touched his eyes she gasped and got excited.
“What are these, Dad?”
“They're eyes.” She gasped again.
“Where did you get them?”
“Would you like them too?” She shook her head up and down. “Well, today is your lucky day then.”
He made arrangements for them to get there within the hour. He held her hand firmly as they sped through the city to one of the lower levels. She shook with anticipation and fear as they got closer and closer. They walked hand in hand to a storage building that had been redone to be a medical facility. It was not apparent from the exterior, but he trusted this man. Aneena pressed close to his side, the fear stronger now. They entered into the office and saw the older human man who was the doctor doing the experiment. The man cringed at the sight of Roster's eyes gazing at him with new found clarity, bare from the blindfold that normally adorned his face.
“This is my daughter Aneena.” He looked back to see her nervously tucking her red hair behind her ears and her own blindfold. The doctor regained his composure and smiled warmly at the 10 year old clutching Roster's arm.
“It's perfectly safe, my dear. You already have the eye sockets, so we are merely implanting the prosthetics and constructing lids and tear ducts.”
He nodded furiously, trying to convince the child to come to him.
“Come with me.” He beckoned to her, his hand outstretched. She slowly took it and followed with a scared glance back at Roster. He followed at a distance, down a long shiny chrome hallway. The nurse stopped him at the door. He was told that he wasn't allowed past this point. He looked in to see Aneena adorned in green scrubs. Her hair swept up in a hair cap. She sat down cautiously in the chair that leaned precariously back. She startled and screamed a little when the metal restraints snapped into place with a loud clang that echoes down the hall. Roster winced at her petrified face, but knew it was for the best.
The doctor nodded at her and seemed to be trying to calm her down. He was waving a sharp scalpel in one gloved hand, Roster banged on the door and beckoned for him to stop waving the scalpel around. The nurse came and bade him to stop. He saw Aneena on the verge of panic and and stopped. He wanted more than anything to be in there holding her hand, or at least have his wife there to hold his hand, and reassure him it was for the best. Roster had to close his eyes. He leaned his forehead on the window sill of the door. He let out a deep breath, unaware the he was holding it in. He knew what was coming next. Anaesthetic was not administered. It was essential that the subject remain aware of what was happening and be able to communicate with the doctor. A small paralytic was given just to stop them from thrashing around. Roster bit his lower lip when he heard the excruciating scream. It haunted his ears knowing he had willingly put her through this. She screamed again and it broke into sobbing. A low murmuring of the doctor was ominous at best. He had to walk away, the screaming echoing down the hall behind him.
He knew that he had a long path ahead of him, full of treachery and deception. The life he chose would always put him on the edge and he felt hardened on the inside. The feeling in his gut was peacefully still with acceptance that he would have to be more cut throat with the people who would cross the line. The cloudy darkness loomed into his heart and with a fierce burning of a lesson hard learned. His family would never pay for his carelessness again. He looked back into that room where the man leaned over his daughter, with blood covering his hands and forearms, and knew he would do whatever it took to keep her safe for always.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
It Should be a National Sport!
Today I am coming to you, writing about a behavior that I and almost every other driver out there is guilty of...
Rubbernecking!!!
Defined by Wikipedia as "the act of gawking at something of interest". Generally referring to a traffic accident.
While barreling down the Deerfoot, the high speed highway here in Calgary, trying to get home in half the time, essentially avoiding the insane rush hour. I saw some smoke billowing over the horizon and spidey sense started furiously tingling.
Oh this will be a good one I thought.
Not the classic police pull over, where the person in the driver seat is covering their face with their hands, embarrassed that the 1000th time they have been driving down this road at breakneck speed and now they (Finally!) got caught.
Or the fender bender, where someone was texting or doing something they fully know they should not and hit the person in front, or beside, them.
There are several other reasons why there would be cars pulled over on the side of the road, from a forceful by the local law enforcement, to break downs. Either way, it's not happening to me, and I am so THANKFUL!!!
Well this poor Bastard must have been having a bad day.
There, on the other side of the road, his poor new little sport SUV, with the beautiful detailing, and gleaming silver surface. His car was smoking furiously under the hood, and there were flames.
My very first thought: Holy crap! Look at that!!!
After a few moments: Did anyone call 911?
The young guys were 50 feet away and one was flipping shit (No wonder!), my guess it was his poor little baby that was spontaneous combusting! Or maybe his Parental Units lent it to him.
For a little while, after Firetrucks and Police cars came screaming down the road towards the ignited vehicle, I was still like WOW that was sick! Awed by how seemingly extreme that was, narrowly avoiding making my own spectacle of a collision.
... Why am I still in awe?
I got so caught up in the rapture of the image of a car about to explode etched into my mind, I made it home before I was like... what the hell am I doing?
And it's something everyone I know who drives, or others who don't, do when they spot these little incidents on the side of the road. Anything to distract you from the mundane drive home from work or from your errands.
We as humans love and crave excitement and this particular brand of excitement brings one feeling to mind.
THANK GOD THAT IS NOT ME!!!
Am I right? Holla!!!
Rubbernecking!!!
Defined by Wikipedia as "the act of gawking at something of interest". Generally referring to a traffic accident.
While barreling down the Deerfoot, the high speed highway here in Calgary, trying to get home in half the time, essentially avoiding the insane rush hour. I saw some smoke billowing over the horizon and spidey sense started furiously tingling.
Oh this will be a good one I thought.
Not the classic police pull over, where the person in the driver seat is covering their face with their hands, embarrassed that the 1000th time they have been driving down this road at breakneck speed and now they (Finally!) got caught.
Or the fender bender, where someone was texting or doing something they fully know they should not and hit the person in front, or beside, them.
There are several other reasons why there would be cars pulled over on the side of the road, from a forceful by the local law enforcement, to break downs. Either way, it's not happening to me, and I am so THANKFUL!!!
Well this poor Bastard must have been having a bad day.
There, on the other side of the road, his poor new little sport SUV, with the beautiful detailing, and gleaming silver surface. His car was smoking furiously under the hood, and there were flames.
My very first thought: Holy crap! Look at that!!!
After a few moments: Did anyone call 911?
The young guys were 50 feet away and one was flipping shit (No wonder!), my guess it was his poor little baby that was spontaneous combusting! Or maybe his Parental Units lent it to him.
For a little while, after Firetrucks and Police cars came screaming down the road towards the ignited vehicle, I was still like WOW that was sick! Awed by how seemingly extreme that was, narrowly avoiding making my own spectacle of a collision.
... Why am I still in awe?
I got so caught up in the rapture of the image of a car about to explode etched into my mind, I made it home before I was like... what the hell am I doing?
And it's something everyone I know who drives, or others who don't, do when they spot these little incidents on the side of the road. Anything to distract you from the mundane drive home from work or from your errands.
We as humans love and crave excitement and this particular brand of excitement brings one feeling to mind.
THANK GOD THAT IS NOT ME!!!
Am I right? Holla!!!
Monday, April 2, 2012
Mental Mondays- A Suspicious Gift
Today I bring another Mental Monday Escapade.
As having dealt with unusual customers all my life, I feel that they are a character building experience. A way to gain patience and understanding. Also, a way to build a will of iron and an appreciation for the mundane days where nothing blew up in your face.
Today's story comes from a coworker of mine. A fine specimen of retail management, who has dealt with so many trying customers that she lost count and can't remember. This one happened just recently. Her namesake will be kept confidential and we will just call her Mimi for fun! (and because I think the name is cute, like her)
She was working on a busy day, and a customer came to return items. With the receipt and everything, Mimi had no trouble returning the 2 pairs of jeans she brought back. One pair was a little damp, but Mimi refunded the lady her money and let her go her way.
When putting away the jeans, another manager took the jeans and felt the dampness. She smelled them and found out what the liquid was.
It was Pee!
With a visible shudder, I pity Mimi for having to touch that. And wonder what on earth would possess someone to return pee soaked clothes. that's just... ew!
As having dealt with unusual customers all my life, I feel that they are a character building experience. A way to gain patience and understanding. Also, a way to build a will of iron and an appreciation for the mundane days where nothing blew up in your face.
Today's story comes from a coworker of mine. A fine specimen of retail management, who has dealt with so many trying customers that she lost count and can't remember. This one happened just recently. Her namesake will be kept confidential and we will just call her Mimi for fun! (and because I think the name is cute, like her)
She was working on a busy day, and a customer came to return items. With the receipt and everything, Mimi had no trouble returning the 2 pairs of jeans she brought back. One pair was a little damp, but Mimi refunded the lady her money and let her go her way.
When putting away the jeans, another manager took the jeans and felt the dampness. She smelled them and found out what the liquid was.
It was Pee!
With a visible shudder, I pity Mimi for having to touch that. And wonder what on earth would possess someone to return pee soaked clothes. that's just... ew!
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