Minimum Wage: A B&W Issue I Choose Black!

Minimum wage in Ohio is currently $8.30 before taxes.

Lots of people have shitty jobs. I hate that they have to do them. I want us to all be artists who can get by comfortably and happily. Life is meant to be fun. We were born free and to be happy for our time here no matter how insignificant it is given our place in the infinite (nearly? ask Stephen Hawking or now that he’s gone read one of his books.)

I think the minimum wage should be at least $15 with vacation, personal/sick days and health care. We can afford it.

It breaks my heart when four guys are working their ass off at Taco Bell and have to come in strapped to shoot intruders like happened recently in Cleveland. I don’t love guns, but those guys who are always called lazy and the source of the world’s problems are not lazy. I’m lazy. I would never work in the middle of the night for minimum wage where I could die at any time.

Sadly, certain people 10 yachts and want more and fuck it all up for everyone else. Ayn Rand said it. I don’t root for it. Ayn Rand’s supermen do none of the real work. The heavy lifting, moving chairs, digging holes, dealing with annoying people like me.

Constantly, my mother says these people are just doing their jobs often for minimum wage. I agree. They don’t deserve the likes of me, but it’s not their fault. Sometimes, when I’m in a bad mood (rarely) I refer to the people who said they were doing their jobs at the Nuremberg Trials after WWII.

McDonald’s franchises are mostly money printing licenses. If you can somehow get a liquor license you are set for life too.

Here are two recent drive through experiences at the golden arches I had.

Brad: I want McNuggets. Where are the McNuggets?
McD: I have no idea.
Brad: Give me 20 McNuggets and a large Strawberry Shake.
McD: Do you want the meal?
Brad: Nope
McD: Do you want them glazed or with sauce?
Brad: Nope
McD: Pull around to the first window it’s (who knows?)

They want you to get the meal because they make their real money on the french fries!

At the first window, I handed the employee my credit card and then picked up my food at the second and had to wait for it.

A nice woman handed me my food and I thanked her.

A second later, I knocked on the door (It was late and they were closed.).

Brad: I ordered McNuggets these are something fancier that I didn’t want.
McD: You asked for tenders
Brad: No I said, “Where are the McNuggets?” I ordered them.
McD: Didn’t you see you were charged $30 instead of $12
Brad: No I trusted you and just gave you my card.
McD: Ok, well we’ll refund your money in cash and give you McNuggets.

Cool, now I didn’t have to pay an ATM fee to get cash at a bank I don’t belong too.

Now a deal could have been made. A deal can always be made, but there are silly rules involved that I sort of understand.

They could have offered me the tenders for the $12 and I would have been happy.

Instead, they made me 20 McNuggets and threw the tenders in the garbage!

Who in McDonald’s headquarters with a yacht is happy about that?

Weeks later I learned.

Brad: Where are the McNuggets on your menu?
McD: I’ve never seen it. I have no idea.
Brad: Fine. How much for 10 McNuggets with no sauce?
McD: $3.85
Brad: I’ll take 20 and a strawberry shake with no sauce.
McD: Oh, that will be …
Brad: Wait, I just saw on your menu it’s 20 McNuggets for $5.85 I’d like that deal.
McD: Great, pull around to the next window.

I’ve been to Burger King, and they have video screens that show your order and it’s running tally. Often I’d order two original chicken sandwiches for four dollars apiece to be told that they were $5. I don’t like Burger King’s menu as much but do you see the difference?

I worked minimum wage at U.S. Merchandise, a discount catalog warehouse type place, for the minimum wage of $3.20 in 1983. I worked for a guy who was a complete asshole. He was the same ethnicity as me but he was a racist, rule-obsessed, anal nightmare.

I knew where everything was in that store. I knew where the gumballs were hidden in the false ceilings, and once when it rained, we had to mop up so no one would notice the blue-green spillage onto the floor.

I knew that store so well that I did things it took others two hours to and got them done in one and goofed off for 45 minutes and as a result always got the best assignments.

I knew that store so well that when the top guy was not there and a less anal guy was working, I’d close the store earlier and earlier each night. One night we closed ten minutes early. He saw the lights flash and shooed the people out of the store. He wanted to go home too!

One day we were playing video games, and he passed by and said, “I didn’t know that you could do that?” We couldn’t technically. I spent one whole day lying on one of their mattresses eating Dorito’s. They made me take a lie detector test to make sure I wouldn’t steal. Other than a couple of gumballs (which was a team effort), I never stole a thing.

I eventually got fired on my birthday for something silly. I came back and offered the anal guy an envelope with a dollar in it and said, “I want to apologize and pay for the damage.”

He sent me back a 20 because he had a big ego and had to have the last word. I wondered if I could escalate it and send him a 50. I might have been able to retire, but he got to win and I made $19 from a minimum wage job I would never return to (It was Christmas time. I was home for college, wasn’t going to return, and was only there to have fun and see my other friends.)

They fired all of my friends for being goofy and efficient and hired others who stole them blind.

Even the lie detector test was odd. I was nervous because I had stolen a pack of baseball cards from Fox Drug at 8 and some Hostess cupcakes, assorted other treats, and paid varying amounts from 6c to nothing for my 7c milk in second grade at Oakville a school they tore down.

I was white and the guy who administrated the test treated an African-American guy who was clearly straight from working hard like shit. He was polite to me and told me to relax. I was shaking anyway but passed. I’m guessing the other guy told truth and I have no idea what his results were.

One day, I gave my anal boss a damaged item and he said, “Put it on the discount shelf. Black people will buy anything if it’s discounted.”

Look at that menu I posted. There is some value offer where you get 20 McNuggets for free!

She probably hates her job, but couldn’t she have taken a few seconds as she walked past that menu into her shitty job to look at the sign she took orders off of for 8 horrible hours a day. It would have made it less hellish.

“You’ve got a job to do. You’ve got to do it well. You’ve got to give the other guy hell!” Paul McCartney.

Here are some fun signs. One or more of those vending machines tells you that if you rock it over it can fall on you and kill you.

Personally, I think if you are that stupid that you are a loser of such epic proportions that we are better off without you no matter how nice and charitable you are.

One day, I was going to see “A League of Their Own” at the Kabuki Theater in San Francisco. There was a line ten deep. I knew that you could go in there early and that they had about 300 seats on the upper tier. I picked mine and opened the door and let the ten in. The guy at the front of the line was pissed because he had scoped out his position and got there first. I would have given him my seat if he had wanted it. There were 290 other good ones to choose from, but he was pissed because he was an anal unhappy idiot by choice.

I understand the vending machine rule. Some moron probably trying to steal a Coke got seriously injured or killed and sued.

Lawyers! Wonderful dudes with 10 yachts looking for number 11.

McDonald’s had to pay legal fees for a woman who burned herself with hot coffee. Had it not been hot she would have walked in the store and bitched. She got nothing, but all the cups at McDonald’s all say: Warning hot coffee be careful not to spill.

I haven’t had a cup of coffee in my life. I’ve spilled a lot of things on myself, but that was my fault.

That was the deal. Do you want lower prices? You get no cool bookstores with friendly people recommending good books, who let you hang out and read anything for free as you drink a hot chocolate that you paid for. You get Amazon, the best price, and no service at all unless you pay for it and if you do it will suck too.

We are the Sherlock Holmes English-speaking Vernacular
God save Fu Manchu, Moriarty and Dracula
We are the Office Block Persecution Affinity
God save little shops, china cups, and virginity

We are the Skyscraper Condemnation Affiliates
God save Tudor houses, antique tables, and billiards

Preserving the old ways from being abused
Protecting the new ways, for me and for you
What more can we do?

Ray Davies

AT&T who is the biggest corporate giant in the history of telecommunications  knows all about you the second you call, but they will make you put in your phone number and everything else about you minus perhaps how long your penis is both flaccid and at peak (they probably already know) and the first person who you talk to will immediately ask your phone number and tell you that they can’t call you back if you get disconnected (often).

I got into a big spat with AT&T over them not sending me an email they promised. All I wanted was an email explaining why I never got that email. I never got one. Instead, I eventually got frustrated and swore. You are supposed to get a warning, and I sort of did.

AT&T: Sir, I must warn you … (click)

I heard his supervisor looking over his shoulder tell him to hang up on me.

I learned and the next time I talked to them and dealt with their hassles (pretending to be my dad) I was polite spent two hours and said, “Can you just give me $50 for the hassle?” They gave my dad $75. My dad did nothing. I worked 2 hours for $37.50, and that’s why I no longer have to work minimum wage.

No one can work with an angry boss looking over their shoulder.

 

I worked for Caesar’s at the Cleveland Horseshoe. They no longer run it and it isn’t called that although a lot of the same people are there. The ones who were my friends are still my friends.

The first day I politely said that I would like to deal poker because I loved poker and knew a ton of poker players. I would have dealt poker for them for minimum wage. I’m always shy at first, but then I bloom and people can’t get me to shut up. They usually have to walk away, and that’s the Larry David/Brad Laidman deal if I’m annoying (I’ll tell you that up front) if you want you can leave at any time, you can. I will feel bad, but be happy for the honesty.

Caesar’s hates their poker room. They make more money ripping people off on table games.

85% of people got their first choice on what game the first learned. I was not one of them. I was not able to choose poker the second time either. I learned blackjack and six carnival games well. I was considered difficult, but I knew those games better than anyone and I was dealing 4 card poker well the night they opened.

I got the highest scores on all the tests. I was quickest at shuffling a new shoe properly. The first day or two I bitched about poker. Then I was friendly and the others loved me. I heard you better let the poker thing die, and I sort of did.

I killed my practice audition. I passed the audition for the job on the first day.

I asked to take the supervisor test, and my nemesis knew I had gone to Northwestern and graduated Phi Beta Kappa. Another dealer who was teaching also went there. He did nothing wrong with a girl who was crazy, he got sent home.

My nemesis told me they forgot to give me the supervisor test.

The worst dealer there got made supervisor. His card placement was incompetent. I worked under him and waited minutes for him to figure out exactly what I had told him that he needed to do.

I once saw a new guy give change for a five dollar chip with five chips worth five dollars each until I stopped him.

I learned poker on my own. The first day I was there they were going over their rule book.

You deal cards for a living

I had read it no one else had. They were getting paid I wasn’t. They all gasped as I knew every answer. I passed in about a week and was dealing poker a week later. It was great for a while.

The players loved me. I ran the game well. I talked 90% of the time, but I listened. One guy said, “This joker talks all the time, but he keeps the game moving and gets the pots right!”

One day, I saw a nice old man I always joked with who was hungry. I knew he had diabetes. They used to serve food, but they stopped. I bought him a power bar with my own money. He died a few months later from diabetes.

Most everyone loved me that I dealt with, and Caesar’s said from day 1 my most important job was customer service. I told players the odds, the proper blackjack strategy, stopped them from doing stupid things. I did break some rules to give them a laugh that affected nothing. I’d pretend to bypass a blackjack and give the card to the next player. I never laid it down, I don’t know if I violated a rule, but it got a huge laugh every single time.

I passed the baccarat audition on my own with no classes.

Soon I found out that all the games on my skill set were stopping me from dealing the only thing I didn’t hate – poker

One day I was dealing blackjack well. I was on final report. Everyone is. It means you can’t transfer (I wanted to go to Vegas and write for my friend Nolan Dalla and the WSOP). It means they can fire you anytime they want for a year.

I had too many games. So I would get scheduled to deal poker and they would let some lazy person go home because they always overbooked. They (sometimes me) would show up at least 45 minutes early to get sent home in 15.  I would then get sent to stand up and deal blackjack, carnival games, or baccarat, which exhausted and bored me. My feet hurt and I was bored at empty tables.

One time, I found out I was dealing to ex-Browns star Reggie Rucker. I told him for 2 minutes how much I loved him as a kid. He said, “If you fucking love me so much, why don’t you deal me a god damned blackjack.”

Reggie Rucker was arrested in less than a month for stealing from his charity to pay off his gambling debts.

I dealt them all well and the customers would tip me well (all the tips were pooled). One time a guy found me so much fun he tipped me a $100 black chip. I got maybe 2 cents from that, but I didn’t care. I would have been happy dealing poker for free.

One guy after losing said to me, “I really want to swear at you because I lost, but you were so nice I can’t really do that.”

I laughed and said, “Feel free to do it anyway!”

One day, a young African-African kid wanted to split sixes which is the most insane thing you can do in blackjack. I told him to hit and he did and lost. He would have ended up with two double down winners. I apologized and he said, “No, I appreciate the help. I’d rather lose the right way.”

Best people in the country.

They always emphasized “Team!” but that meant you do anything we ask but if you ask us for anything you are suspect and probably gone. A kid dealing there was having a baby and knew if he called in sick he would be fired. He gave them plenty of notice. He had plenty of vacation days that they wouldn’t let him use. He got fired for seeing his baby born.

They had lots of young African-American kids who worked their asses off and were making better than minimum wage. One was a roller skater and they let him skate before their silly buzz sessions that wasted my time and built teamwork. The real members of the team mostly loved me. I didn’t give a fuck if I was there or not and spoke up when they were treated like shit. I mocked their team exercises, but politely enough that no one got upset. I sang Elvis badly during a Karaoke event when no one else did.

I was dealing a carnival game and messed up. I called the “coach” like I was supposed to. It took her so much time to figure things out that I could have done in seconds, a guy got disgusted and left his money on the table and went out to smoke.

After 15 minutes, they pulled their money back. The hand didn’t count, which is what I would have done instantly. People were upset but more upset it took 15 minutes. They were agitated.

The next hand I dealt correctly, but I noticed that the smoker’s money was still there. I knew the coach would just push it back and let the hand resume so not wanting to waste another 15 minutes of already upset customers time, I did that. The coach saw and I was called up the supervisor. I was on final report. I said, that I didn’t think it was fair, because I’d worked so hard and seen so many make worse mistakes. He told me rules were rules. He understood why I did it, but rules were rules.

They wanted “upbeat and positive.” I was always that at the tables.

When I smoked outside, I bitched up a storm and those smoking with me agreed.

One day that supervisor saw me sliding a blackjack winner instead of perfectly placing the chips like I was taught. I honestly didn’t know that was against the rules. He then got insanely angry and watched me deal over my shoulder with a look to kill. This had already happened earlier to me. I can’t deal at all with someone looking over my shoulder.

He called me in his office right away. That other “coach” was there as well as a gigantic guy who had moved from coach to HR director with who knows what qualifications.

I told him I didn’t know the chip sliding rule and that they other mistakes were because he was looking over my shoulder. I told him that my customer service was great. I told him I really just wanted to deal poker.

He said that I couldn’t deal blackjack. I said, “Take it off my skill set. Take them all off except poker. So I can deal poker and leave you all alone forever.”

I really got fired that day, but they let me linger.

One day, I was dealing baccarat, the game I taught myself for them.

Something happened. A yellow card got stuck to a yellow cut card and it got mixed into a black shoe. The second the light went on I called a coach like I was supposed to and he found it. It cost the casino $190. It was a zillion in one random accident. Others make blatant mistakes costing them more and were forgiven.

I had saved them much more by stopping others for making change for $5 with $25.

I got fired. I didn’t care. No poker? No reason to be there. It was exhausting me, I was bored and I didn’t need the money.

I had a hearing. I explained it was a random mistake, and I could explain if I got to see the tape. I wasn’t allowed to see it.

One of the judges was a friend who had helped me learn baccarat.

The “coach” came in and said, “rules are rules.”

I lost 3-0.

After that, one of those who voted against me said that was the worst thing he’d ever seen and he told me he’d help me get hired back.

He still had to vote against me. Rules are rules. Stupid rules are the death of humanity even if I understand some are there to stop you from getting killed by a Coke machine.

Customers still loved me when they saw me and asked why I was no longer dealing.

A friend gota job there dealing blackjack. His card placement was shit. They made him a coach. He’s no longer there.

Two weeks later they segregated the poker room like they always should have. I could have dealt poker and kept my tips had I survived two weeks or so longer.

I tried to get back, but the one guy that hated me obviously kept vetoing me even with the judge who was a supervisor who boosted me to his credit, and his detriment for sticking his neck out. He’s no longer there.

I won a bad beat jackpot and a young kid got to pay his child support. He thanked me every time he saw me even though that was just random luck too.

I no longer play poker there, but I have plenty of credits to buy my friends free food there.

I haven’t had a losing poker session in 10 months.

Lots of wonderful people taught me and worked with me and I try my best to keep up with them and thank them.

They are all treated like shit by people with either 10 going on 11 yachts or people who are aiming for number 1 going on 11.

If you have a shitty job at least do the least to do it somewhat well and honestly and you will get a better job.

Over and over African Americans or other poor people who are blamed for everything amaze me.

A guy at the convenience mart who helped me buy cigarettes, but was a smoker who wouldn’t take any from me.

The woman who helped me buy cheap cans of cold Coke from a vending machine when you couldn’t buy it anywhere else in the store, but you could buy cartoons of cold beer. I lost two lottery tickets near her when she wouldn’t take a tip. I said, “I never win these things. I have no idea why.”

The guy at White Castle. White Castle’s drive-through lines are always slow for some reason, but as I sat there not moving he was allowed to talk to me about my car and ten other things about his life.

I went to a bank and leaned against the counter. A woman asked me if I needed help. I said, “I’m just waiting for my mother for ten minutes can I wait here?”

She said, “That’s fine, but we have chairs.”

I would wander away for 15 seconds occasionally. and each time I would return she had to say, “Can I help you?”

This went on for exactly ten minutes!

Someone was looking over his shoulder. Probably a camera that filmed us all.

The Apple Store sold me a $19 lighting cable with my mother’s credit card. I didn’t want a receipt and to have to give them my personal information for the 1000th time. They knew through facial recognition software everything about me when I walked through the door.

They charged my mother $171.93 for Airpods. I never had heard of Airpods.

I never showed my ID. My mother’s card wasn’t signed. My signature is nothing like her immaculate one.

I talked to everyone and kept getting cut off. I was on the phone with a supervisor. She waited 15 minutes to get through to the store and failed. I said, “It’s 10 minutes away, hang on, I’ll drive there and we can talk to them together.”

She couldn’t. She said she’d call me in 10 minutes or as soon as possible. She never did.

They always tape you for customer protection or whatever they call it. So that gives me the right to tape them and I almost always do.

I walked into the store and told the greeter that it was an emergency and that I needed to see the store manager immediately.

There were 100 people waiting. I talked to him in 30 seconds.

I introduced myself to him. Gave him my driver’s license.

I told him I was using my iPhone to film it. He said, “I’m not filming you. That’s insulting and the wrong foot to start off on!”

I said, “I’m sorry. I’ll turn it off.”

He was lying. They film everything in that store.

I explained with detail. I told him I was there on exactly Oct.6 at the time on my mother’s statement. I walked right to the lightning cables. I joked that a half-meter was $19 but a 2 meter was $35 dollars, and I bought a one meter for $19.

I asked about batteries. They were all $80. I joked I could buy one for $10 on the road to my college reunion.

I told him the only other time I had been there I had spent 40 minutes with a woman that I pointed out who was great and helped me and she would remember me. He said, “She’s irrelevant.”

He checked later. “She did remember me.”

He said all he had was a document on his iPhone saying I bought the Airpods. Not my signature. Not the real receipt.

He said that he noticed I hadn’t been there for 8 months where I had bought the same $19 lightning cable.

He said he needed to do hours of digging and would call me in two days, but that was all he could do for me.

I said, “I’ve already spent 2 hours on you ripping me off. Can you make a concession to me? Apple has given me lots of free credits for not following their own rules.”

He said, “You’re dealing with me. I didn’t do anything. I’ll resolve it by Monday.”

I said, “I sound pretty credible though don’t I. I haven’t been here since the last lightning cable I bought. I lose them a lot, but I keep buying Apple products. I have since 2004. Three iPhones, three iPods, about $500 of music and media on iTunes.”

He muttered. He asked my name. The first thing I did was introduce myself and show him my ID. He never even remotely apologized for any possible inconvenience.

Apple can make a receipt looking anyway they want. They can make a video showing me shooting that manager in the back of the head if they want.

He called me two days later and said he watched all the film for hours and couldn’t find me in the store anywhere. I asked if I could look with him. I said, “The bank has the date of the charge. I went right to where you sell those lightning cables.

He said the rules didn’t allow that. He said they had no proof I was ever in that store, and to report it to my mother’s bank, which I did when I was waiting for her at the counter.

I had it all written out, but still had to fill out the bank’s forms. They had my mother’s immaculate signature and my horrible scrawl filling them out.

It’s in their hands now.

She had to read us a long legal statement filled with stuff the bank person admitted I obviously knew. It took 5 minutes.

The Apple store manager is dealing with me and them.

I have no idea whether the guy who sold them made a mistake or stole some expensive Airpods for $19. I have no idea whether he scrubbed tape or researched hours. I just know my mother will be charged $19. I can’t be charged. They have no proof and deny I was in the store that day. Someone is getting fired or reprimanded or worse going to be in court.

I don’t want this.

Apple has great products and people. I spent two hours with a nice guy who I told right away that I was trying to make a ringtone out of a song I already owned to surprise my mom with her new iPhone from me. Back in the day, they’d charge $0.99 cents for a song, and $1.29 for a ringtone. Now you can buy the song for $1.29, but you can’t pay any price for a 30-second ringtone. I told him not to waste his time if he couldn’t do it. He spent two hours trying. I was right a senior person told me it was impossible. Great guy he tried but wasted his time, my time, and Apple’s time.

Apple updates all their products all the time. They offer stuff for free if you know how to use it. There are video tutorials. Every time they update, the opening screen is different. They change the free password to make the tutorials worthless. You can spend hours finding it or pay them for help to upgrade. I’m willing to do that up front. I told him, I’d pay ten dollars for that ringtone. I bought another for my mother. It was refunded with credits and a few more for my hassle.

Great people in these awful jobs. Apple could make just as much even more if they just were honest and charged what their stuff was worth. I usually figure them out on my own use them for free and get paid by them to do so.

Time and time again I see it. I make a silly joke mocking me. They laugh and immediately turn sullen. They’re on camera. Big Brother. I graduated in 1984.

My sister had a pharmacy job. She was fired for trying to fix their mistakes, trying to do things the legal way, and being nice to people instead of moving the line along to maximize profits.

She was hired for being personable.

In Europe, McDonald’s has self-vendor machines. Now their employees get paid minimum wage to explain and help people use them. Before they could be nice and do it all themselves for the same money and result.

An African-American woman in Chicago refused to take money or anything from me. She kept saying, “I’ve worked here for 40 years. It’s my job. I don’t want anything extra for doing it.” I talked to her. She and her family needed that money.

Saint Janice of Chicago

During the ’80s, Ronald Reagan blamed everything on poor young black kids. He said they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps. They did.

While he was pulling their music programs from their public schools and causing the crack epidemic with the CIA illegally selling arms to Iran to fund the Contras in Nicaragua. They used their turntables to revolutionize the record industry. The lawyers are still billing millions figuring it all out. Dr. Dre is worth billions selling headphones for a lot of money that no one who tells the truth will say are better than a $20 set of Panasonic’s without a fancy name. But people work all day and bitch about it, but they must have a set of “Beats.”

Their fault.

The poor common people who get blamed by the yacht owners? Best people in the country.

If everyone met and realized that we were all the same. Those rules would die forever, and they would be on the beach like Bob Dylan told them they should be back over 50 years ago. Vote them out and don’t forget your roots. Don’t go Animal Farm and decide “all are equal but some are more equal than others.”

John Lennon sang it 528 different ways, but he always said the same thing.

Smile, be happy, share.

I saved. I have no committments. I have no official kids, but many I consider my sons and daughters and they know it.

Come together and end this shit forever. Share.