eyeofnewtblog

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Things that happen at work:

Ok, so my boss regularly brings her 12yo daughter to work, especially when she has stuff to do at night. And like, no biggie because the kid is awesome, but kiddo definitely has her favorites among us. I am one of the lucky few. (Hey, talking to a 12yo like they are a real person? Indulging their interests and random topic changes with zero disapproval? What a concept!)

Anyway, we’re gossiping about one of my coworkers (not in a bad way, more like, this coworker is a nice person but don’t do what she’s doing by dating another coworker because that shit Does Not End Well) and I made some sort of comment about how Kiddo actually knows the coworker better than I do at this point because she’s actually spent real time talking to the coworker about not work things.

And this kid just. Fucking. Belts out the biggest “thank you” I’ve ever heard. We were in the bathroom, I was cleaning she was standing in the middle of a tiled room, it ECHOED.

And it just…look, my boss is obviously trying the best she can to be a good mom, but she’s human and Hispanic (shit ton of generational trauma on top of a narcissistic dad, not gonna let her personal shitshow get out on social media) but the fact that a 12yo feels THAT VALIDATED about me acknowledging her having a better understanding of a situation because of time spent with another person?

Just. Ugh. She’s a really sweet kid, and honestly the mom is a really good boss, I’m not trying to neg on either one, but holy fuck my heart breaks when they do shit like this. They both need so much therapy and to not live with a narcissist and I want to make them move in with me and walk kiddo to the library up the street three times a week and bake them cookies and just. Give them a space where they can breathe? (I literally do not have space for them which also breaks my heart)

But like. Boundaries are important. And trust takes time and effort and patience. I’m sorry for rambling but I just…Feel So Much for this duo, it’s weird and kinda scary and I honestly don’t know what to do with myself.

[eyeofnewtblog]

This is a wonderful new addition to my vocabulary.

We have an actual word for what's going on with Trump and Mask

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at home.

So, I recently spent the night (without my husband) at my parents house.

They have two extra bedrooms, my mom is doing a cello convention in my middle sister’s city so it’s just-me and dad and youngest sibling who is a full time restaurant server now, which obviously exhausts every single battery that kid ever had…

I basically got to watch a couple of movies with just me and my dad. It was honestly great to spend time talking shit about movies and not anything real.

I really love my family. They know I’m struggling, but spending easy time together is so freaking important worthwhile everything.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

So, my store is located just near enough (not the closest to, but near enough and with a larger number of parts to be worth going to) a military base. So pretty regularly, we get soldiers coming in either on their break or after shifts to buy stuff. Rarely, but it does happen, they come in at odd times because they have been ordered to fetch something by their leadership.

So, about six months ago I get a young soldier in full uniform come in on a Tuesday morning at ten am (so unusual timing but I didn’t really think anything of it at the time) and he needs to borrow a tool that we don’t normally lend out, it’s a tool that needs to be fully purchased but I currently have exactly what he needs sitting in the tub of returned tools that are not able to be resold but still usable.

Now, a couple of things. If a customer wants to borrow a tool from the bucket, they typically have to leave their driver’s license or passport or something of equal value in order to make sure that they return the (usually less than $30) tool. This kid literally only had his military ID on him and taking a military id off of enlisted personnel is a huge, giant, big fuckton of No-No Juice, so my response was “Just give me your uniform hat.”

Kid gives me his uniform hat, which I know he will get in big trouble for losing, but it is not in fact a literal federal offense to take from him. He comes back in a couple of hours with the tool, I give him back a piece of his uniform, I think nothing of it until today.

TODAY!

A nice man comes in, requests a few parts, and as I’m checking him out for the purchase with a military discount he mentions how grateful he is that we have such a lenient tool lending policy. I tell the story about how I confiscated a hat as ransom for a tool from this one kid a few months ago.

Customer: Holy shit, it was YOU! Was it Hayes?

Me: Uh, it was a tall skinny white kid, pretty young, blue eyes? I don’t remember if he was blonde or ginger.

Customer: That was definitely him. (Turns to his buddy who has been silent the whole time) Do you remember when I had that issue where I specifically needed *tool that was apparently lended out* and I sent one of my soldiers to the nearest AutoZone? And the kid came back with it and I didn’t ask any questions until after. But I did remember to ask if he paid for it, and as he said ‘no, she just asked for my hat. Fuck that hat.’ And we had to turn around and go get his hat?

Customers buddy:*snickers into a closed fist*

Me, after I’m finished cackling: Hang on, hang on. Let me track down a coworker so that you can get 20% off instead of just 10%. Call it the serendipity discount.

Customer: Aw! I actually like that a lot.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Both. Both are good. (Also probably delicious but maybe separately, and possibly as a comedic pair)

As an alternative to 'sugar, spice, and everything nice'

I present: 'salt, vinegar, and everything sinister'

[eyeofnewtblog]

Same. Ohmigawd I hate them so much. But the sad truth is that led lights last much longer and (despite being horrific to replace) are cheaper in the long run, which is what makes them so popular. (Buying an led light bulb will last you YEARS if not a decade depending on how you treat your car…a normal, dimmer bulb is much cheaper but has to be replaced every 2yrs or so, can last a lot longer but it really depends on how you drive and when) see the Sam Vimes boot theory.

If it makes you feel any better, op, I typically try to sell the cheaper normal lights first. Also, you probably have a car that sits low to the road, so anything that isn’t malfunctioning seems like a laser beam straight into your eyeballs.

Getting your seat as high as you possibly can in a short king automobile really helps. Not enough to make the problem go away, but enough to make you hate it slightly less.

if i’m ever brutally murdered and everyone feels like they need to do something productive in my memory, all i want is for you to pass legislation banning LED headlights in my name. regardless of how irrelevant it is to my murder. it’s relevant to my heart.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

So, it’s the big boss’s birthday. People have brought in presents. There’s a birthday card floating around. There’s a balloon attached to a bottle of Pepsi. He was sung to, nicely, fist thing in the morning.

Me, rolling in at almost noon, realizing what’s going on, and rounding up a crew: Hey! Wanna help me be obnoxious? We’re going to pin him down in Commercial and sing to him. As loudly and as off key as possible. This is happening NOW.

So the thing is, at AutoZone, the commercial checkout line is like…still in front of customers.

So there are 15+ employees suddenly gathering around the counter, who break out into The WORST rendition of happy birthday you have ever heard. I’m so proud of everyone taking it to heart that they should sing as loudly and as off key as possible, because dear lord it was awful/awesome but honestly my coworkers need to step up their game because my family does it better (one time my SIL was just dropping by and not feeling great in the middle of a family birthday and she literally ran out of the house we were so loud and obnoxious)

ANYWAY one of the customers ended up filming us (I didn’t notice at the time and he was long gone by the time I tried to get the video) but my poor boss…standing there all red faced and embarrassed but still laughing…that was fun.

[eyeofnewtblog]

@awritersbro I’m definitely willing to learn how to do the wavy bit over the n to pronounce the yo sound but I literally don’t know how to type it. Literally all of the Spanish I know is spoken and the very little I do know is because I switched the screen from English to Spanish so that I could directly type out what the customer wanted. I did specifically state that I only know about 100 words and phrases. This includes buenos noches, tardes, Dias…I know little things to get by, not full on sentences. No one ever has taught me spelling.

Things that happen at work:

Spanish speaking customer: *comes up to the counter asking for front brake pads and sparks plugs*

Me, in English: Yeah, no problem! Ano? Marca? *get his car year, make and model plugged in, go find his parts, bring them to him*

Spanish speaking customer: *as he inspects the parts, starts in on some story about his mechanic and the brakes that involves a bit more cussing than most guys usually use*

Me, having to waive him off: Sir, um, no comprende? Un momentito por favor. *pulls up google translate, types out “the only Spanish I speak is car parts and the bad words”*

Spanish speaking customer:*straight up cackles, pats me on the back, pays, and leaves*

Bilingual customer: *steps up to the counter, sees my google translate still up on the screen, also cackles* Oh, nice! That’s adorable!

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

Spanish speaking customer: *comes up to the counter asking for front brake pads and sparks plugs*

Me, in English: Yeah, no problem! Ano? Marca? *get his car year, make and model plugged in, go find his parts, bring them to him*

Spanish speaking customer: *as he inspects the parts, starts in on some story about his mechanic and the brakes that involves a bit more cussing than most guys usually use*

Me, having to waive him off: Sir, um, no comprende? Un momentito por favor. *pulls up google translate, types out “the only Spanish I speak is car parts and the bad words”*

Spanish speaking customer:*straight up cackles, pats me on the back, pays, and leaves*

Bilingual customer: *steps up to the counter, sees my google translate still up on the screen, also cackles* Oh, nice! That’s adorable!

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

Not even typically annoying customers, but strangely cute things…

Had a guy come in with a 3 year old. Needed a cart (we have glorified tables on wheels) for all his parts. Three year old crawled into the bottom section and refused to get out. I had a quick conversation with her about not putting her fingers near the wheels and off we go! Toot toot, the oil change supplier express is on the way!

Multiple grouchy old men who are literally just looking for a $3 plastic clip/otherwise cheap small part, but the last three places they’ve been to have said “I can sell you the entire assembly for $400 but we don’t sell the clips” and after 20 minutes of searching desperately neither do I, but they still hang out for a few minutes and chat about farming/muscle cars because they just like me and I listened to them.

Josh, my one regular, who flat out says “nah, her, I’ll wait” and then we spend 30 minutes tracking down exactly where he can find the obscure 1985 F250 parts while remembering what upgrades he’s made. (One time I was coming back from a smoke break and he was with another of my coworkers and stopped in the middle of his transaction and grabbed everything off the counter and followed me to my register…another time he literally shouted for me across the store because he saw me disappear behind a corner and I had to come back and assure him I’d take him next…he’s hilarious and crude and grumpy and picky and he’s great)

So many Spanish speakers that are patient with me, and legit try to meet me halfway. (It’s really big in Spanish speaking cultures to do things your self, and my Spanish is…not great.) Like, I can say basic greetings/common phrases and numbers but I really only know car parts, and only some car parts at that, and even then the Spanish speaker needs to know the Mexican way to say it (google translate is not great at reverse engineering Spanish if there’s a variation in dialect)

Speaking of Spanish speakers, my coworkers, who can step in and basically say “it’s your fault for not understanding what she’s asking; you want spark plugs, she’s asking if you want platinum, iridium or copper. The system says you should get platinum.” They make dealing with machismo so much easier.

Girls in general who come in. I don’t care if she’s done research and knows exactly what she wants, or does not know a light bulb from a filter. Y’all are the most fun, because I get to be a teacher for a minute and we all have a good time.

People who want their windshield wipers or batteries changed? I get to be outside for a bit and honestly I get to secretly smoke a cigarette while I chit chat with you about literally anything while solving a minor puzzle. This is awesome and I will be sad if it gets taken away from me.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at home:

My actual father admits that he cannot cook, a saga:

I don’t even remember what we were discussing but I made a comment about how whenever he was left to “babysit” me he would make pancakes, which to me was a special treat because mommy and grandma always made waffles as a special breakfast but daddy would make pancakes for dinner if we were alone together.

My father straight up admitted that literally the only human he has even tried to cook for is me, when I was too young to reach the stove, and even then he specifically made me pancakes because that was the One Thing he learned how to cook in Boy Scouts.

I think the exact words were “I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve made pancakes in my life, and the only one that didn’t involve feeding you specifically was the first time, when I was actually taught how to do it. There was flipping and waiting for the correct amount of bubbles. I’m pretty sure I could do it again but it’s been twenty five years.”

Which is honestly pretty sweet and we should all just take the win that a man in his early 20s was actually trustworthy enough to be left alone with his only child in the 1980’s. And succeeded! What child doesn’t want pancakes for dinner? Because breakfast for dinner is honestly the best meal.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

So, my boss has a 12 year daughter, that she occasionally brings into AutoZone. Not often, but her kiddo has trouble sleeping and Boss is a workaholic, so when kiddo can’t sleep and Boss is having a semi anxiety attack about the store, they both head down for an evening.

The thing is, Boss gets super sidetracked and forgets she brought her kid to work (she’s having anxiety for a Reason) and the crew on shift is left to entertain her.

As a person who always always always has some type of food available, at first I was like “ok, feed the kid and see what happens” and what happened was kid is super into astrology and jewelry and weighted emotional support stuffed animals.

This is a direct quote “I’m legally allowed to get a job as soon as I turn 14, my mom promised me she’d sign the paperwork, I have it ready.”

Kiddo is absolutely adorable, zero interest in school but just really wants to get out into the world and be herself without being judged by people (her peers) that she’s actually too mature for. My favorite thing to do with her is to treat her like she’s a new employee and “train” her like she’s a new employee. I break everything down a lot more and guide her a lot more than I would an actual new hire (I feel like a 12 year old I see once or twice a month needs significantly more guidance than a 17 year old I spend an entire 3 consecutive days with) and it’s so freaking cute to put her in front of customers who are blatantly thinking “what is this tiny ass child doing???”

Because here’s the thing. Im blatantly turning a “typical customer transaction” into a “child teaching moment” and the people who are in a hurry and frustrated actually slow down and smile and smell the roses for a minute. In all the times I’ve “trained” this kid, I’ve never once had a customer get mad, entitled, mean, or anything. Just sheer patience oozing out of every pore. Kiddo if fucking magic with customers too, she’s so excited to learn how to do things correctly and always wants to be precise but unafraid of messing up.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

So, a staggering number of my coworkers are lgbtq+ in some way, shape, or form. We have one gentleman who dresses like…kinda like a grandpa? But not…like he definitely takes modern inspiration sometimes, but he really just loves to dress like he was born in the 1920s. Collared button downs, tie/bow ties, newsie caps, cardigans, always has a stylish pen in his breast pocket, but gauged ears and lip/nose rings.

Anyway, he’s perfectly nice and I’ve complimented him on how sharp he looks plenty of times in the past (because dude does look sharp as fuck CONSTANTLY) but I literally never gave a single thought about his sexual identity because 1) not fucking him, not my business 2) dude looks good and deserves to be complimented 3) I have absolutely zero fucks to give about who literally anyone else is fucking. (No, seriously, if you are not my husband? I cannot emphasize enough how unimportant your sex life is to me. If you’re my friend and you want to tell me stuff about yourself, fine, you’re my friend and I’ll be supportive and empathize, but like. Seriously. I absolutely do not care if you like to hollow out coconuts, fill them with butter, and masturbate into that. Fiddling with kids is a whole nother thing but let’s stay on topic.)

Anyway, I walk into a conversation that Sharply Dressed is having with a manager about how he gets more reciprocity from his male relationships than his female relationships, and my dumbass decided to chime in, without context, and what I actually said was

“Well, that makes sense, because regardless of gay or lesbian, in a same sex relationship there are no gender expectations so you get to just behave and give gifts or favors however you want to, but in a straight relationship you have to constantly think about what you’re doing and how it can violate the gender norms of your partner.

And Sharply Dressed laughed but had to correct me and said “Dude, I’m straight. I actually get this a lot, but I get how you misconstrued what I was saying, in this context. But like, what I was saying was that I’ve personally never been in a relationship with a woman where she was actually a good cook, when she said she was. But my male friends, when they say they can smoke meat, it turns out sooo good.”

And I was like…”honey, I don’t know how you shop for women, but it sounds like you need to ask for a home cooked meal on the third date.”

And then that comment exploded a multi generational debate about when and where and how a meal is to be cooked on a date? The 17 year old father was present and actually had good old school advice.

Tl:dr I got schooled about perceptions and am now possibly adopting a 17 year old dad. I’m at least going to be his work mom. He’s adorable and so respectful and responsible and legit looking out for his son. Kid deserves an extra adult in his pocket.

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Things that happen at home:

So, a few years ago, I worked at a construction company as an admin, and I ended up having lunch today with a couple of the plumbers I used to work with. It was great catching up with them, and I honestly really miss working with older grumpy blue collar guys. Not that mechanics aren’t great (assholes, affectionate) but plumbers just…have their own flavor of humor.

Goddamn but I really really really Missed The Ever Living Fuck out of -Head Plumber and Ronnie.

I made them my special Christmas cookies (haystacks if you want to google the recipe) and my brownies (literally an off size Pyrex container, two boxes of brownie mix, substitute water for milk, dump the biggest bag of walnuts you can afford on top, pop it in the oven and bake until toothpick/fork comes out clean)

Meet up went great, I was super proud of showing up with my brownies fresh out of the oven, and while we did spend a good amount of time actually catching up, it felt so good to be patted on the back and told “good job” and be called “sunshine” again.

It also felt really good to talk shit about the people who made us want to leave the company we met at. On the one hand I hate to talk shit about anyone, but there are five or six people who deserve it and three of them worked at the company we all met at.

So, yeah. It was really nice to just sit and shoot the breeze, talk about the different tastes of elk and antelope and bear buffalo meat, plumbing regulations and journeys vs masters, listen to grumpy old men talk about how proud they are of their kids and grandkids, what we’re all doing for work (yes I gave them my autozone employee discount, what kind of monster do you think I am?)

It was absolutely lovely and traumatic because I legit forgot how many horrible sheep fucking jokes one plumber can tell. Don’t even talk about two of them ganging up on me, they made those jokes as well. Why do Colorado citizens hate Wyoming? Wyoming fucks a lot of sheep. Why do Wyoming people wear overalls? The sheep run away when they hear the zipper. What’s the best way to fuck a sheep? Either stick the legs in your rubber boots or Velcro gloves. Works for human women occasionally. THE LIST GOES ON.

I really do love the fun duckers though. Can honestly say they are my favorite people.

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Things that happen at home :

Talking to my mom about my childhood is always such a wild experience because she’ll be like “remember how he let you loose in this completely child unfriendly environment that would get us put in jail NOW but at the time was minor because it was the 90s”

And my memory of the incident is like “dad said to find my way to him based on tracking, this is the exact boot print he’s been teaching me to follow. Oh, these are the exact traces of erasing tracks that I should follow…hey dad!”

And my mom says he treated me like a little sister when I was supposed to be his daughter….not gonna lie, I ignored a lot of shit from other kids because my dad was gonna give me worse at home.

But I could honestly track my dad’s boots across an open public field, plus about ten of my classmates based on their shoes.

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Things that happen at work:

Me, who just came back from New Mexico, where REAL green chili comes from: Alright, I got five different green chili candies, who wants? I got chipotle peanut brittle, habanero peanut brittle, I got the spicy thing in a tube that you drizzle over other candies, I don’t know what thats called but I have it.

My Hispanic coworkers: Let me see. Hand it over and let me see. You’re so brave, let’s see. C’mon white girl, what chu got?

Me: *hands over the shit i picked up from my parents local farmers market*

My coworkers: …it doesn’t suck. The peanut brittle was pretty good.

So here is the spicy peanut brittle guy! He’s fantastic, seriously, great range of flavors and he does a lot of his business just by being in a farmer’s market. Be aware that his mild green chili peanut brittle has an after kick to it.

[eyeofnewtblog]

just wanted a visual demonstration since I was talking about how much I love them