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Submitted by Abbey (View user info) at 2008-05-29 13:34:39 EDT
If you are bored and have nothing to do, give me the pleasure of having your input on my book in making. This venture has been like pulling teeth out of a boar, but it's coming along. Bill, the main character, literally brought in a shopping cart of photos and at least a couple hundred pages of written history, which are amazing. I still have not sifted through them all.
Sorry it's so long, but I have to actually go to WORK, which is the basis of the book. It's a 'casual' style of writing. I know I have lots of grammatics to deal with, but just don't have the time right now.
HI!! HOW ARE YOU TODAY?
Some amazing things happen in life when you least expect them. Sometimes you're down in the dumps, depressed, questioning why you are alive and then all of a sudden, someone, or some people touch you in the way you least expect. This is a journey of the most simple person who fell upon hard times, but found some of the most remarkable people in a job I never imagined. These are people who needed me as much as I needed them, but didn't realize it yet.
I was a teacher of 22 years. I loved kids, but most of all I loved to teach. I had a way of reaching kids that was well respected by my students and their parents. I primarily taught Sixth Grade math and drop out prevention students. I spent a good portion of my time removing the fear of learning math, especially to girls. I loved to see them blossom with their newfound confidence.
Times took a turn for the worse. My parents were very ill and I made frequent trips several states away to see them and care for them. My current administration was very supportive at the time, but... new leadership came in and they were not so happy with the arrangement.
Now, toss in a violent sexual assault, and I was a mess. I had a broken nose, hand and knee. I didn't look 'appropriate' for the elite private school I was a teacher. I started having panic attacks, which was completely foreign to me. It's like having a heart attack. In the end, the school was balking at my present state and not willing to provide the support I needed at this time so, I resigned. Hence, the story.
I live in Las Vegas. Things in Vegas are either really good, or abysmally bad. Unfortunately, when I resigned, they were abysmally bad. I spent the next six months trying to find a job. Any job. No one was hiring. Not even a gas station was hiring. If you live in Vegas and are not 21, blonde and well endowed, you're not getting a job. I'm not 21, blonde and well endowed. I'm 47 and brunette.
I'm a 22 year veteran teacher who has also owned several businesses during the course of my teaching career. I owned a web design business when the web was beginning to blossom. I also owned and managed a website for parents who have kids of special needs. I have past on the realm, but it is still thriving to this day. Finally, I still own a Las Vegas disc jockey business that is a huge task.
I sent my resume to a good friend of mine who is a CEO of a major casino chain and simply asked him, "What is in my resume that I can't get a job?" His reply was that I needed to 'dumb it down.' People won't hire you with these qualifications because they think you'll leave once you find something better." That was the first hit on my self-esteem. So, I dumbed it down.
Finally, I went into my local grocery store and basically begged for a job. Enter the second humiliation. I don't like to beg for anything. I'm not saying that I don't value people in these positions because I really do, even more so now, but it felt like all my college and experience was going to waste.
After six months of searching, I was offered a position as a front-end manager at my local grocery store. This is not what I went to college for, but it had growth potential and thrilled to have ANY job.
I showed up the first day of work and they excitedly explained that they had a new plan, a plan that was not initially presented to me.
Manager Dorothy: Hey! You know what? Corporate has this great new pilot project going out to 53 stores next Monday and we think you would be great in that position.
Me: Cool! I love a new challenge. What is it?
Dorothy: It's a Demo Lady.
Me: Demo Lady? That's not exactly a new concept. (Have they not been to Costo?)
Dorothy: Well, we'll put you through one week of training and go from there.
Me: Training to give out free food? How hard is that? It's not rocket science.
But, I was desperate for any kind of employment so I sucked in my pride and said, "I'd LOVE to have that job. Send me to training!!" Enter the third point of humiliation.
Well, being a demo lady is actually harder than you think, and more touching than I would ever have imagined. I never envisioned the people I would encounter or how they would touch my life so dearly.
I did my week of training. Oh, such fun. We did lots of role playing and the most important thing was learning that you don't say, "Would you like...?" Why you shouldn't say that is beyond me, but it seemed VERY important to the corporate people. It was important enough to spend a week to drill it into us.
The store I was assigned to had no idea what the corporate office had in mind. When I came in the first day, they were perplexed as what I was supposed to do, what I was supposed to sample, or any supplies. They said, "Just look around and take whatever you want." Then they walked away. Okay...
"But I have this calendar from the corporate office of what I'm supposed to do, and I'm supposed to report my sales every hour," I politely said as I don't want to lose the first job I've had in six months.
"Well, we know nothing about that," they replied.
Okay...again. It's wing-it time.
In some sense, that was a gift as they gave me free reign to do whatever I wanted. The corporate office gave me a product to demo, then I'd add whatever I thought would sell.
The first day I set up with my little cart in the natural foods section, which I was told to do. Not such a good decision. Only about 1% of the population goes down that aisle. I stood there all day not seeing many customers. Then...I saw Starbucks right at the entrance of the front door. Gold mine. Now THAT'S a place to put my station. I don't think they thought I was smart enough to figure that out. So, I had my new 'home'. It cracked me up as one day I went into work and they had an outside vendor in MY space. They promptly made her move and let me move back home. I actually felt bad for her to have to move. I still see her every now and then and she is very respectful of my home. It's kind of like someone taking your parking spot at work. It's public parking, but everyone knows that is where you park. How dare you pull into that spot?
In addition, I could dress in theme, which is my forte. They never told me I could do that, I just did it feigning ignorance. I think it freaked the managers out the first day I came dressed as a fireman. I have lots of costumes from a former job, so it's usually not to hard to come in wearing something funny to go with whatever I had to demo.
If I were to demo fire wings, I'd dress as a fireman. If it was cinnamon rolls, I'd dress as Princess Leigh from Star Wars and put cinnamon buns on my ears. Imagine cinnamon buns on your head for six hours. Yuck. That was not pleasant, but you do what you have to do if you want to keep a job and maybe have some advancement. If it was fruit, I'd dress as a Hawaiian dancer. I would always have music playing on my little boom box.
I remember one day when I was supposed to demo Energy Bars. I put on my workout suit. I'll admit, I don't work out, but I do have the suit. It's great pretending that you actually go to the gym. I spent half the day trying to find a cheesy 80's headband, but eventually found one and wore it proudly. Toss in my boom box with high-energy music and the party was on. Multiple times during the day people would be dancing in front of me in the middle of a grocery store. This is not a typical thing you see when you go in to buy bread. Did they buy anything? I don't really know, but they enjoyed coming in and continued to come in day after day on schedule.
What I didn't expect were the regular customers that would come in every day to see what I was dressed as, or what was coming tomorrow, or what music was playing.
This story is about some of the amazing and remarkable people that I met through this somewhat silly job that has brought me such pleasure and a strange way of mixing generations.
The grocery store is located across the street from a very large affluent 55 and older community. I have a wonderful group of customers who come in every day like clockwork. I first wondered why they couldn't buy enough food for two or three days. Most days they bought nothing. Then I found out why.
The first to tug my heart was 89-year-old Bill. Bill would come in every day at 3pm. He'd always get a sample, then snag a free newspaper and sit down at Starbucks, which is right in front of me and read. Before he sat down to read, though, he'd tell me the most touching life stories. It took me away from doing my intended job, but then I started to realize that listening was my job. Maybe I was put here for a reason.
On a beautiful day in May, Bill came in but didn't get a sample. He just sat down at Starbucks and read the paper. After about 15 minutes I came over to him and patted him on the back and said, "Hey...what's up? No sample today?" He looked at me and grinned with his stained teeth and said he was in a down mood. I hugged him and asked him why. Bill proceeded for the next 45 minutes to tell me about how lonely he was. His wife of 51 years was recently killed in a car accident just down the road.
Bill's wife was driving home from the store I work at and was broad-sided at an intersection when the other car didn't see or choose to recognize the stop sign. I've lived all over this country, but have never seen such inconsiderate drivers as in Las Vegas. It's like speed signs and stop signs don't apply to them.
Bill's wife died at the scene. I can't imagine losing your life long partner. Fifty-one years of hardship, caring and passion just vaporized. He just lost his life partner. I'm hoping he has a lot of good memories to survive on right now. I gave him another long hug and told him he can come see me and chat anytime.
The next is Ethel. Ethel is an African American woman about 70 (she won't tell me her actual age because she's got so much attitude and pride) that is wheelchair bound. She is one that loves my costumes, but has made it her personal challenge to one-up me every day. Each day she comes in with the most amazing hats and outfits. I always ask to swap hats and her reply is always, "Girl...I go for style. You can keep YOUR hat." She has hats with feathers, gemstones, you name it.
Our third guest is Phil. He appears to be about 70. Phil comes in every day at 4pm. He has his 'helper.' I'm not sure of Phil's issues, but he is very shaky and needs assistance, but is very intelligent. Phil grills me every day. You'd think he was the Secret Service of the Health Department. Do I have my gloves on? Is this fresh? How many calories? What is the sodium level? When I'm on my 10-minute break and he comes in, he complains to the management that I'm not at my station. He's a grouchy old guy but seems to like seeing me.
Then, we have Aretha. Aretha makes it known that she has arrived. She has an entrance that is second to none. The entire front entrance of the grocery store evaporates when she walks toward it and struts in. I swear I could hear the Philharmonic Orchestra playing in the background as she enters. It's kind of that first impression that you make of a person when you say...oh, my...I do NOT want to mess with her. She will tear you down.
I first met Aretha when she was getting her daily Starbucks. She is an African American woman who is completely shaved completely bald. Now, any woman would easily admit in private, that if you didn't have to do your hair every day, it would be a GOOD day. So I approached her and said, "Man...I would KILL to have your hairstyle!! That has got to be so good! You are in and out of the shower in no time! No blow dryer, no curling iron, etc."
She heavily laughed and said, "I'm telling you, it's one of the best things of having cancer." And then she laughed loudly again.
Pregnant pause. I felt like a complete idiot at that point.
Aretha has advanced, aggressive breast cancer. I listened to her story for the next thirty minutes. She is the most upbeat cancer patient you could ever imagine. She comes in every day to see the people she is comfortable with to keep her life in some sort of order when you know your life really doesn't have any order. I think she just needs some normalcy and getting her Starbucks and seeing familiar people is it. She is always smiling, waving her hand and positive. I'm hoping she'll beat this thing.
Next, is Priscilla. Oh...Priscilla. Priscilla is an affluent real estate agent who walks and talks about 50 miles an hour at any given time. She doesn't have time for anything unless you are buying what she's selling, which is housing. I swear, I think she has a cell phone Super-Glued to her ear. My first meeting with Priscilla was, "Good afternoon! How are you today?" She told me to fuck off. Who was I to ask how her day was? I wanted to smack her up on the spot. There are times when you just want to drop kick someone who is so arrogant and rude. But, I have to keep my job. There is more Priscilla to come. She will be a challenge and I don't back down easily from a challenge too often. My first impression is this is a woman who is living in her own personal hell. Getting her story is going to be quite interesting. I might wear armor.
Finally, we have Marge. Marge is a Vegas native, which is highly unusual these days. Most people are implants in Vegas. Marge is 72, but is trying to look 22. She hasn't figured out that she is actually aging. She has had more plastic surgery done than you could do in a couple of decades. Her hair is colored, highlighted and styled EVERY day better than most women half her age. Marge never buys anything. She just comes in, tells me a new Vegas story, then roams around for a good two hours chatting with anyone in her path. She was a former cabaret dancer and just can't seem to give up the lifestyle and the look. Marge has told me some great stories about old-school Vegas. I hope I can get her to write them down.
This will be a journal of the daily life of a simple demo lady and the intriguing people I encounter every day. It makes me thankful for the $9/hour job I work and the small joys it brings me.
I first realized how much I loved this job when Bill didn't show up one day. I was really concerned. He lives alone now and doesn't have anyone checking up on him. All his family, wife, children, parents, have passed on so no one would know if there was a problem. Then the second day when he didn't show, I was extremely concerned. He was depressed the last time I saw him and is now out of his normal schedule.
When I would go home and tell my day at work to my husband, he'd look at me like...why are you concerned? You don't even know this person. Well, I will get to know them, and I want to get to know them. Something is urging me on right now.
I want to tell Bill's story, but he hasn't been in for five days now. This is extremely unusual for him and very disconcerting for me. Right now I have tears for a man I don't really know, but have a bond with. I hope he is ok. I'll be eagerly looking for him tomorrow.
Ethel came in around 3pm. She was dressed head to toe in bright pink...with the matching bejeweled hat. She looked at me and just did the 'talk to the hand' thing. She wheeled past me and finally looked back and said, "Darlin'...you ain't got nothing." All I know is I'm going shopping for hats.
On day six, Bill finally arrived eagerly waving his hand as he staggered through the front door. Bill has seen and been through a lot in his life, more than probably anyone should. His posture is deteriorating, his teeth continually fall out as he's talking with me, and his glasses drop to the floor about every two minutes. Well, my wrath fell upon Bill. I tend to be a bit outspoken. "How in the hell do you come in on schedule every day for three weeks after telling me your wife of 51 years just died and you're living alone, then don't show up for 5 days?"
Bill just kind of blinked at me and said, "I didn't know anyone really cared anymore." There is not much of a more of a pain in the heart than that. I'm a woman. I try my best not to cry at anything, but right now in the middle of a grocery store... I cried. I gave him the longest hug ever recorded. As his teeth are falling apart when he's smiling, I get a simple thank you, another hug and said he'd be here tomorrow on schedule. He promised. That made not my day, but my year.
Now, I started to understand why these people come in every day, not even to buy groceries. They need to connect with someone...anyone. They need to connect with someone they feel is going to be there when then need to chat or just have a break from the hardships of life, and these people have been through hardships that are foreign to most young people today.
We are a privileged generation for the most part and haven't had to deal with many of the struggles our ancestors have had in the past. Many of us have forgotten things we should remember and appreciate. We have our health, our homes, food, and family members who love us. Most of us have not had to go to war, sew our own clothes, or ration the weekly bath between multiple family members. They didn't live in a five bedroom, four-bathroom house with a maid and gardener. They didn't have their own cars, and if they did, it was an old beater that you had to fix yourself with parts from the junkyard. There were no cell phones, so if you needed to contact someone in an emergency, you had to find the dime and the phone to call home and hope they had a phone at home. If not, you hoofed it on foot to your house and got a good lecture by mom and maybe a whooping by dad when you got there because you were late.
Graduating from High School was a luxury. My mother married at 14 and had two children by 16, then had me at 21. When I asked my grandmother how she could let her daughter marry at 14 and move to Germany...well, that's another long story. She always said, "That's just the way it was." My Grandmother was probably the wisest person I've ever met.
My grandmother, bless her heart, had 18 children. Only five of her children lived to adulthood, my mother being the youngest of them. She was an early settler in South Dakota so there wasn't a lot of heath care. In fact, there was none. On her deathbed at 95, she was reduced to a small box of her belongings. When I knew she was failing, I flew back home and went through each of the items with her talking about all the history and what each item meant to her. I was saddened to see that her 95 years of life was reduced to a box, but she seemed to enjoy the memories and talking about them. It's amazing what you don't know about someone.
Grandma Gilbert had hand written notes of her children's births where the midwife service, if there was one...most times it was a neighbor who lived miles down the road, was traded for a chicken. Sometimes, she gave birth alone. Imagine that. Now, we pay thousands of dollars for a doctor who 'might' show up. It was probably one of the most heartbreaking, yet most memorable time of my life.
The hardest note to read was her son's suicide note that he wrote after coming back from WWII. He saw things no person should ever have to see. In the end, it was his memories that killed him. He couldn't make his mind forget the hundreds of tragedies he experienced. My Grandmother said it was the most painful thing she'd ever gone through in 95 years. She'd lost other children, but it was because of illness and lack of healthcare. This...was because a man-made war.
This was the week before she passed away. She was alert as an eagle, but her body was failing her. She passed away a week later after I had gone home.
When she passed, I had no money at the time so flying back for the funeral was not an option, but I'll never forget the week I had sharing her stories and memories. She was a peach and probably one of the most important people in shaping my life.
Those were tough times and I think stories like that need to be passed on for people to sit back and realize how happy and comfortable they should feel.
I miss you Grandma.
So, this is my journey. I want to put in writing the path from one or two generations past, to the next. My 'guests' are tough old cookies, though. It will be a task. They don't want to write anything down, or audio-record their tales. It's all person-to-person chat or nothing at all. That is how things are handed down in the next generations in their eyes. I will see them daily and it will probably be annoying for them for me to constantly to telling them to write down their tales. They don't think anyone wants to listen anymore. I'm out to prove them wrong.
I have asked Bill to write down his life story nearly every day for weeks. It's a daily banter with us. He has truly amazing stories from all over the world. We live in a society today that the majority of us don't have to go through life-threatening issues on a daily basis. We have a roof over our head, food on the plate, and a loving family surrounding us. Step back a couple of generations and you'll see what was life at that time. Bill has been there and lived it and survived. War. He's lived more than one war.
Bill doesn't use computers, and probably never will. So I bought him some nice paper and a packet of pencils and pens. He laughed loudly when I gave it to him. He said he'd write it down when he's 99. Now THAT'S optimistic. Even after all he's been through, he's still thinking about 99 years of age. My best guess is that he'll make it and I hope I'm there to witness it. I hope to God I'm there to see him at 99.
Ethel came in yesterday and strolled by me in her wheelchair pretending not to see me. She won't even make eye contact. She had the most stylish hat you could imagine. It had rhinestones that would show up Versace. Myself...well, I was in a baker's hat, which is the required uniform if I can't come up with a costume. The demo for the day was popcorn and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out something interesting to wear. Ethel slowly strolls just past me and she looks back a few feet ahead, waves her hat and lets out the biggest laughter she could muster. The war is on.
Bill came in yesterday and I handed him a tape recorder and 10 blank tapes. (Hadn't seen one of those recorders in years.) He laughed with his falling teeth and said he thinks he'll need more tapes. "I think I'd need a truckload of these...whatever they are...tapes for me to tell my story," he says. But, eventually he balked at the idea of some 'modern' machine. He doesn't know how to use it, doesn't really want to learn how to use it, but ultimately it came down to is he wants a human to talk to, not a machine.
I told him that the paper and pencils I gave him were not so modern and are quite easy to use. I could even show you how. See, Bill? You simply put the pencil to the paper. You make it move and write words. Why can't you use them? That's when the light bulb came on.
I'm not sure at this point, but I don't think Bill knows how to read or write. People who are illiterate have a very subtle way of hiding it, yet lead a normal life. They know a few words, like their signature, and have enough people around them that they can verbally tell what to do for you so you don't appear to be illiterate. "Hey, can you read this piece of mail to me? I can't find my glasses." But, there is that gut feeling, and usually my gut feeling is right on the mark. Time will tell. It will be a gentle discussion with Bill.
I'm at the point where I invite him to dinner to tell his story. "Bill...how about you come to dinner one night and just chat about all the things you tell me every day?" (I'll just push 'record' button and enjoy the evening.)
Normally, when you are invited to dinner by a somewhat stranger, you'd be a bit suspicious. Not Bill. He gladly accepted and wanted to know when. "Tonight? What time?" he asked.
"No, not tonight, Bill. I'm working, but it will be soon." Bill looks at me like...you're working? I don't think they realize that I'm supposed to be actually working and reporting sales on an hourly basis. At this point, I don't really care. I care about people, and Bill is one of them.
I'm looking forward to our dinner, not just to get Bill's stories, but just to enjoy his wonderful and interesting company.
The next day Bill came in waving the familiar shaky age-stained hand and big grin at the exact time I always expect him to enter. "Hey Bill! How are you today?"
"When's dinner?" he replied?
"Where's your journal? Or your tapes?" I shot back.
"You mean I have to do that in order to have dinner?" He almost looked hurt.
I gave him his daily hug and told him no...I'd have him over for dinner anytime. So, we set a date for Wednesday. I think he was disappointed that Wednesday is two days away, but he said he'd be there with bells on his toes. He asked if he could bring anything. "Just your life memories."
Bill, with a puzzled look replies, "Who would want to hear about me?"
I just said, "You'd be surprised".
Aretha had not been in for two days. When she came in all styling today I told her that I missed seeing her for the past few days. With her chin up high, she says, "Yeah...some days are good and some are not so good. In fact, they can be really bad. The last two have been horrible but today I forced myself to get out of bed, dress up and go see people I like to see. It wasn't easy, but I'm here." I give her my usual hug and walked her to Starbucks for her typical afternoon coffee. I ask her if I'll see her tomorrow and she said it would be her goal to get up to see me even if she was in pain.
I have yet to ask Aretha about family or friends who watch over her, if any. I hope she has a family at home that appreciates the strong, proud, and caring person she is. We've just begun breaking the ice for a friendship, so I don't want to push her too hard. I think she is one who doesn't trust too easily. That's ok. I'm not going anywhere any time soon. Maybe she'll come to dinner one night, too.
Aretha did come in the next day dressed to the hilt as usual. When she came to my station, she simply said, "Thank you for giving me a reason to get up today." Then...she went to Starbucks. That's good enough for me.
Getting Aretha's story has been a chore. You can kind of tell a person who is emotionally defensive. I'm not sure what has happened in her life to make her so distant from people, proud as a person, yet a survivor. I will continue to develop a friendship and hope she'll open up to me and get some comfort at having someone she can talk to without fear of opening up her heart. It's rare to find someone so strong.
After pestering Bill for weeks to write down his story, he came in today, the day of the dinner, with his journal and 15 pages of hand written stories. I guess I was wrong. Bill can write. He can write quite well.
Bill came to dinner at 7pm, which is late for him, but I think he was excited. I had just got off work at 6pm, so I hadn't had a chance to look through what he brought in his journal. We had a lovely evening. Bill went on and on about the stories he's told me in the store, adding many more, and completely engrossed my husband. He's a history buff, so things like this are mesmorizing to him. He talked about specific battles he has been in, various countries he has lived in, bar fights...you name it. What he didn't talk about was his wife who recently passed away. I don't think the time is right to approach that subject.
What I have next is Bill's first venture into writing his life story. I was tempted to edit it, but thought it was better to leave it in its initial form.
User Reviews
Submitted by kristy (user info) at 2008-06-03 08:35:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
matter of opinion below
Submitted by Abbey (user info) at 2008-06-01 13:18:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Ok, Apollo. I accept your apology. Sorry you're hung over.
I'm going to still try, though. And for the record, I may be 'old,' but I'm not a douche bag. ;)
Abbey
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2008-05-31 13:53:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
actually, that was just mean.
i'm hung over.
sorry
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2008-05-31 13:50:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
should retards get credit for saying their ABC's at huge volume incorrectly?
Or should I laugh at their pathetic efforts?
In real life - credit.
On uber - hilarity.
Just because someone 'tries' it doesn't make it worth a space fart.
So to sum up, fuck off you washed up old hag.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2008-05-30 14:42:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2008-05-29 19:06:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-05-29 15:25:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
what Brdn said.
And:
http://myfreecopyright.com/
==========================
NO BAD SHADOW
you need to actually copyright your work with the library of congress to fully protect it in terms of monetary damages should someone steal your work
https://eco.copyright.gov/eService_enu/start.swe?SWECmd=Start&SWEHo=eco.copyright.gov
you can do it online now for $35 or snail mail for $40.
brdn_nkd is quite slender and handsome, too!
====================================
bout fucking time you acknowledge it you smarmy fucker.
Submitted by Abbey (user info) at 2008-05-30 13:05:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Once again, that you for all your replies. I know I have a LOT of work to do on this, but I feel it's a story that needs to be told. It's such a transition between generations.
Apollo, I'm bending over so you can kiss my ass. At least give me some credit for trying something, whether it be good or bad. At least I'm giving it a shot. What are you doing?
No 'hole' shots today, S. I've got to go to work.
Abbey
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-05-30 05:23:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Submitted by Ltap (user info) at 2008-05-30 01:04:04 BST (#)
Ranking: -2
I didn't read it.
------------
Count yourself lucky, dude.
Submitted by orph (user info) at 2008-05-30 03:56:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Ltap (user info) at 2008-05-29 20:04:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
I didn't read it.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2008-05-29 19:58:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
chances of any cunt paying to read this update:
zero, bob.
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2008-05-29 19:06:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-05-29 15:25:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
what Brdn said.
And:
http://myfreecopyright.com/
==========================
NO BAD SHADOW
you need to actually copyright your work with the library of congress to fully protect it in terms of monetary damages should someone steal your work
https://eco.copyright.gov/eService_enu/start.swe?SWECmd=Start&SWEHo=eco.copyright.gov
you can do it online now for $35 or snail mail for $40.
brdn_nkd is quite slender and handsome, too!
Submitted by Majik_Marker (user info) at 2008-05-29 17:59:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good story, I really liked.
Submitted by Sphagnum (user info) at 2008-05-29 17:34:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
I had a book up my date once and it wasn't pleasant.
Thanks for reminding me, Bitch.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-05-29 15:25:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
what Brdn said.
And:
http://myfreecopyright.com/
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2008-05-29 14:29:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
If you want to get anywhere around here...How about a "hole" update instead?
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2008-05-29 14:27:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll agree that the potential for a story is here, maybe even great potential but you have a lot of work to do.
someone mentioned run on sentences
there are times when you repeat yourself... the particular example that comes to mind is you telling us they might not have had a roof or food or family to support them.
this lacks solid organization and bounces all over the place. I understand that this has some chronology involved, day to day, week to week but at times it seemed like you tired of talking about something and switched to something else.
if you seriously intend to try to publish do not post it on uber or anywhere else. Posting it to a public forum is essentially self publication and publishing houses will shy from a piece previously published faster than you can imagine.
i read the whole and overall enjoy the idea. your phrasing and organization need some work to really make it a solid read. good luck and enjoy the discovery process. B
Submitted by Abbey (user info) at 2008-05-29 14:13:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thank you for your responses. I obvliously know it's not perfect, but I'm working two jobs, family, moving and trying to fit it in. I just had the pleasure of meeting these people and thought it's a tale worth telling. I'll work out the small things later.
Again, I appreciate your input.
These guys are amazing. It makes me appreciate my heritage.
Abbey
Submitted by FALLEN (user info) at 2008-05-29 14:13:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
you were THIS close to a -2.
I thought you stole this because I remembered the other post.
good thing I looked huh?
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2008-05-29 14:06:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by creep_firebombing (user info) at 2008-05-29 13:53:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
What Bosh said. Good luck +2.
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Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2008-05-29 13:44:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 effort, though.. good luck on your book.
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Submitted by The_Drake (user info) at 2008-05-29 13:42:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by GangsterSquid (user info) at 2008-05-29 13:39:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
WTF I'm not reading all that!
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2008-05-29 13:58:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
be careful of run-on sentences and punctuation.
several times, itbegantoomgblurintoonegiantlongfuckingwordanditgoesonandonlikethesongthatneverendsitgoesonandonmyfriend
Submitted by creep_firebombing (user info) at 2008-05-29 13:53:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
What Bosh said. Good luck +2.
Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2008-05-29 13:44:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
wow
this is something that i'd read sometime when i'm not at work. i can't promise that'll happen though, as i typically don't spend a lot of time on my computer at home.
when i'm at work i usually have 3-5 minutes to kill at a time, and as such i look for boob and fart joke posts.
+2 effort, though.. good luck on your book.
Submitted by The_Drake (user info) at 2008-05-29 13:42:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by GangsterSquid (user info) at 2008-05-29 13:39:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
WTF I'm not reading all that!
Submitted by GangsterSquid (user info) at 2008-05-29 13:39:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
WTF I'm not reading all that!