Working a Hangover

I had to work today, but I felt like hell. I had three glasses of wine last night, but I feel like I had six or eight. I got to go in late (10:30am), but I still felt horrible. And then the real fun began.

I work for a financial institiution. First, I had to help an elderly lady with dementia. Last week, she and her new attorney removed her granddaughter from her account; today she decided to put her back on. I spent quite a while trying to determine whether the granddaughter really has Gram’s best interests in mind, or if she’s skimming money from the poor lady’s account. I think it’s the latter of the two. Unfortunately, now that she is once again a joint owner, she can do whatever she pleases. However, in my research, I’ve found that the granddaughter accessed the lady’s home equity line of credit...a big no-no when you’re name’s not on the loan. Then there was the girl who couldn’t figure out how her money was gone from her checking account. I printed out the account history so she could plainly see how much she’s been working her debit card, and she still didn’t understand. "Where did my last paycheck go?" she asked. It was all I could do not to be sarcastic and, well, a little mean about it. I mean, come on...if you deposit $1000 and proceed to have 34 debits from your account, what exactly do you suppose is going to happen to your balance?

And then there was the Safe Deposit Box. That is usually not my favorite thing to do. You stand there, in the hallway, until the person is done rummaging through their stuff. You must not see the contents of their box. That’s it. There is nothing to read, nothing to sit on, nothing to do except stand there and think. On a day like today, that wasn’t such a bad thing, though, because it sure beat talking to someone or having to think a lot. I gladly clicked "assist" and got up to find the man in the lobby. It wasn’t long after I signed him in and he began rummaging that I heard it...a long, quiet, but quite destinct fart. Initially, I was amused, and looked forward to sharing my tale with my coworkers. Well, then the smell crept around the corner, took hold of my throat, and proceeded to choke me. I thought for sure that I would vomit. I mean, it smelled for all the world like he had soiled his drawers. Ten minutes later, when the man was done, I had to check the desk to make sure he’d removed all of his items. The smell was quite concentrated in that area, and I quickly grabbed the Lysol out of the bathroom, making sure that he was gone from the lobby. So much for hangover help.

Then there were the three people who signed in to see a rep at 1:55 (we close at 2:00pm). Thanks. There is one man who does it EVERY WEEK. I really think we should be able to tell him that he needs to get in earlier...no one goes to his place of employment and makes him stay late. Asshole.

Ah, don’t mind me, I’m just grumpy because I don’t feel good. I’ve been having a headache for more than a week now, too. I’m really not mean, honestly. I really want a cheeseburger, and I’m trying to coerce G to go to Fuddrucker’s. I may go without him. He and his friends were up until God knows when last night. A bunch of them came over here after his work party (more on that later), since we are close. If you read my previous blog, you know I wasn’t pleased about the idea, but he connived until he got his way. He put me on the spot, and asked if they couldn’t come over right in front of them. Bet he’s been practicing that one since late infancy. Anyway, my thinking is that he kind of owes me. I know he laid on the couch and ignored the children all day. He also left the dog out all night, so her barking ass woke me up at 6:00 this morning. Someone left the gate open last night, so she was not in the yard...she was on the front porch. I really hope he cleaned up the Green House. I also heard there was puking going on by one of the girls last night. I hope there’s none of that mess out back, either. I’m too old for this crap.