I sell alcohol for a living. I do “God’s work” as I like to call it. The three busiest days for liquor stores are (in order) New Year’s Eve, Christmas Eve and the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. I try to help out at one of my my busiest stores. I enjoy it. I really do enjoy helping people find whatever they are looking for. Dealing with the public has its moments, however. Here is a classic example of what it is like to help the public. An elderly woman approached me while I was working on the day before Thanksgiving.
Customer: I am looking for that wine.
Bud: Which wine?
Customer: The one I drink on Thanksgiving.
Bud: Well, of course. Do you remember its name?
Customer: I get it here every year.
Bud: I see. What type of wine is it?
Customer: Red.
Bud: Okay, let’s see if we might narrow this down. What type of red?
Customer: There is more than one type of red wine?
Bud: Yes, there is merlot, cab, pinot noir and many more.
Customer: What goes with turkey?
Bud: While I am not a wine expert, I have friends who are swear by pinot noir.
Customer: But isn’t that a red wine?
Bud: Yes it is.
Customer: I thought white wine goes with turkey.
Bud: It can. It is a matter of taste and choice.
Customer: I just remembered the wine. It is sangria.
Bud: I will take you there.
Customer: Will it go with turkey?
Bud: You might want to serve it with desert.
Customer: Will it go with pie?
Bud: Of course.
Customer: Is there any cheaper types?
Bud: That is a gallon for $5.99. No, you can’t do better than that.
Customer: Will you be here next year?
Bud: I hope so.
Customer: I’ll ask for you.
Bud: I am already looking forward to it.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I really shouldn’t eat at McDonald’s. Nobody should. But in today’s fast and ever changing world, speed beats every other consideration at times. I stopped at their store on my route near Amherst. You could tell you had a newbie working because a manager had to tell her, “ask who’s next…” While she waited on that lucky person, the person who had just ordered didn’t move out of the way. The new customer had to duck and weave to ask for his lunch. The last person decided to order something new which meant the world was stopped, her ice cream was added as the man in the middle of his order waited.

I ordered and grabbed my cup to get my Diet Coke. Make that a seltzer. The Coke was missing. As I reported this o the manager, who neither looked or acknowledged me, she barked “Somebody get the Diet Coke. It’s out!” I sat down to read my paper. Well, I mean after I cleaned and bused my table. AS I got my meal I searched in vain for napkins. I finally went to the counter and they pointed at a “paper towel” roll (it was more like sandpaper) and I ripped my shred off.

The fries were cold and the burger was not bad. The point is that I eat at these type of restaurants a lot on my sales route. Obviously, too much. But I have never seen so much go wrong in twenty minutes at one place. But I bused my table and left. No sense trying to make sense at McDonald’s…

So, yesterday I was driving. This itself is not noteworthy, since I am a salesperson. They are doing all sorts of stuff on I-91 outside of Springfield. I’m listening to some inane sports talking head interviewing another sports talking head and I realized WEEI was interviewing the same guy I just heard on ESPN’s Mike & Mike. I look up and all I can see is a dump truck ahead of me so I follow it through the cones. A trooper immediately pulls me over. I have NO idea why.

You guessed it. I followed the dump truck into the traffic site. This cop is yelling and screaming and going insane. He asks “Who do you think you are?” I said I thought the truck was in a lane and I was sorry. He starts screaming at me as though I were two. When he asks for my license I remember it’s in my scanner at home, because annually I have to scan it and send it to work. Now I’m wondering if he will handcuff me or let me follow him to jail. He looks at the registration that I gave him. He starts ranting all over again. He tells me that I am too stupid to live. At this point, I am expecting the electric chair, although I think the firing squad might be better. I digress.

So now he’s kicking the cones all over the place. He yells at me that’s he’s gotta reset them all. I avoid the urge to ask if he wants some help. He glares at me and tells me doing what I did was “a ONE HUNDRED dollar fine.” I nod. Better than the chair, I’m thinking. All of a sudden he yells, “I don’t have time for this.” He stops the traffic on 91 to let me out. No ticket, nothing. So the moral is “Go figure.”