seppuku sunday

there's a definite Something going around the salon. this weekend we had three girls call in sick. on a weekend! on a gorgeous weekend, no less!

oi vey...

in the retail world, the weekend is usually the busiest time of the week. in the grooming world, it's pretty much the same. most people are home, got things to do, have people coming over, and the dog needs a bath or a trim. fluffy's getting so shaggy you can't even see his cute little brown eyes anymore, and he's starting to bump into things, poor kid. and bruiser rolled in pond mud and smells like stagnant water and duck crap. mm-mmm! nothing smells sexier to a dog than eu de what-the-fuck-is-that-stink. so to the salon they go!

of course, being short-staffed on a weekend is a death sentence for everyone else. i ended up pulling a 10-hr shift on saturday because there was no one else who was willing to close up the shop. of course, we were so slammed i never got an opportunity for any breaks or a lunch, which i got wrist-slapped for yesterday. of course, the same thing happened yesterday, but what can you do, hmm? and on saturday we got a visit from the wicked witch of the pacific northwest, whose dogs i had the extreme privelege of grooming.

can you just feel the sarcasm from there?

oh wow, this woman and her dogs were a piece of work. she harrassed me, insulted me, accused me of abusing her dogs, just all sorts of things. i can't help it her wretched yorkies were little monsters and bit me constantly. i slapped her with twenty dollars in special handling fees --which were approved by the mgr and to which she agreed-- and only when she continued to insult me and get hostile did my lovely disposition go out the window. i was always polite, but i won that insult contest hands down, and ended the conversation by turning my back on her and walking away.

some people only respond when you prove you're better at the game than they are, sadly enough. i hate being that way, and it takes quite a bit to push me that far. but don't insult my work when you haven't trained your dogs properly, and especially don't accuse me of animal abuse. animals and children are sacrosanct, thank you. people tend to forget their dogs' behavior reflects their own capabilities as pet parents. having helped train a service dog, where the quality of training and behavior are nose and tail above pet-quality animals, i know the difference very well.

however, i ended my weekend over at my parents'. have i mentioned how much i love them, and love going to their house? dad made menudo, and i always conveniently "forget" that i'm vegetarian whenever he makes it. i just can't help it! and dad fixed me two double ginger presses. basically it's whiskey and ginger ale, but he makes them much stronger than i do. a pint glass for me usually has a can of soda and half a shot, but he makes 'em double strength. and after dinner he had me try this very lovely port.

needless to say i stayed over last night...

i slept in their camper, and listening to the rain early this morning was glorious. the full-size bed was gloriously soft, and i pretty much crashed and slept the sleep of a happy daughter safe at mom and dad's. this morning dad and i enjoyed a cup of coffee together, and conversation. he got ready for work, and i went home --arms full of leftovers, as usual.

dad's such a wonderful cook. any man i find is gonna earn so many extra bonus points if i get to watch him enjoy himself in the kitchen. personally, i love puttering around and have always found the kitchen to be "my" territory, but my dad's the most masculine gentleman i know and watching him in the kitchen is part of that masculinity. my mom's definitely the luckiest woman in the world, i think. i'm the second luckiest: he's my dad.