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Yesteryear

Tuesday, February 11, 2003

February 11, 2003

           It is myself and the lovely Jill. Again, in happier times. She was almost the one, but there was a single, tiny item I could not overlook. No, I’m not saying. Again, these drug store pictures lie, for it looks like we are both brunettes. Notice the typical west coast evergreens off the balcony, and the horizon twenty miles away.
           Here’s a tale. When I met Jill, cell phones had just been invented and most people had never seen them. I was driving to her place as we talked and she mentioned her parents, whom I’d never met, were visiting. I pulled up and, still talking, knocked.
           Her mother answered and instantly blocked the door so it would not open. I found out later what happened. Her mother looked outside and was frantically waving and whispering behind the door, “Jill! Get off the phone! Get off the phone! There’s a man outside and he’s got a Cadillac!”
           6:33 a.m., Miami. I saw Monica today. She’ll need a new location, the dump trucks are racing up the street, blowing dust and diesel fumes. Still no luck apartment-wise, but I’m not really looking either. [In] the news, some [drunk] Canuck in a 400 HP Mustang hit a golf cart and killed a nine-year-old. The story is they found him on the roadside eating leaves or grass. Good luck, buddy, that crap ain’t gonna work here.

           [Author’s note: Monica was an Argentine lady who ran the hot dog stand, that is, working here illegally on a student visa. A year later, she got a ticket for setting up shop on a restricted roadside area, which eventually seems to have resulted in her expulsion.]


           The sites are still too spoiled having me as the go-between. Mind you, it is confined to sites I’ve worked at, but it is clear when I leave the system reverts quickly [to manual labor].            Somebody broke or stole 36 expensive fixtures in the Continuum lobbies. Yes, I had the warning letters and sign-offs on disk. But they also had the hard copies. That one new letter took 1-1/2 hours of intense effort, sometimes I can identify with why lawyers want so much [money for what they do]. [Author’s note: it was an inside job and it was well known my computerized payroll logs were most useful in such circumstances.]
           Of all people, Eva [an accounting clerk] gave some static over the database. It “duplicates” a report used to distribute the paychecks, called the Manpower Report. True, but [I had her] step back and take a good look. Unlike the static spreadsheet, a Manpower Report is just one thing the database does, [and that report] is almost an incidental spin-off. Where it is wrong, it quickly pinpoints why it is wrong, usually a missing transfer document, in which case it is not a failure of the database.

           Also, Theresa has a concern about the new (database-generated) paycheck releases. The employee writes his phone number and signs it. Now the number is pre-printed and this has somehow become a security risk. No less. [Most Florida companies are infested with such small-minded types.]

           [Author’s note: Theresa was 35-ish, “she’s single, you know”. Yes, I know. I can see why. She gets nastily angry over something, then forgets about it five minutes later. Not exactly girlfriend material for me. She was eventually transferred to the Four Seasons and never seen again. It taught me that a transfer to the field means it is good-bye for you within the month. This eventually happened to me, but for different reasons. I was by far the most popular man in the company next to the owner. Many people never understand that to me, popularity is a consequence, not a tool for political gain.]

           [Author’s note 2024: If enough people point out that doesn't look like either Jill or me, I will admit the photo is "enhanced" in that our complection tones are reversed, but that's it. ]