sorry kids not feeling it today

kind of bored, tired, lazy today. got up went to town, drove over to Salinas to pick up some parts. i fucking hate parts people sometimes...

"yeah, that ain't gonna work." he says.

"but, its what i want. so can i have it?" i reply.

"sure but it ain't gonna work."

"you said that already. how much?"

"i dunno why you want it, you need to have a Parker crimping machine for these fittings."

"no i don't, i have the collets for these fittings that work on my machine, i can do it just fine. i need six of these one here."

i show him a sample of a busted fitting.

"six?"

"uh, yeah. i said i need six.....please."

"well, they ain't gonna work. but, I'll sell them to you. you need the Parker crimping machine."

"yes, you said that as well. now i need some of this hose here."

i show him a piece of hose that i brought in off our broken excavator.

"we don't sell that hose, that's Aeroquip, we sell Parker."

"no shit?"

"yea- wait what?"

"yes i need some of this hose here, i understand you sell a different brand, i need something with the same P.S.I. rating, i don't care what the bend values are, i just need fifty feet of it. I'll retrofit it all in the field."

"yeah but, we sell Parker, i cant look up Aeroquip numbers."

"you can't cross reference the numbers?"

"no."

"why not?"

"that's in a different book, it's a pain in the ass. why don't you go to delta rubber, they sell Aeroquip."

"because I'm here, not at delta rubber."

"well i suppose i could just guess."

"what? no, i don't need you to guess, i need you to get me something comparable to this hose here and that will fit with your Parker fittings... please."

"uh..."

wanders out back for a while... comes back to the front counter.

"yeah, i dunno why you want me to look for this stuff, it ain't gonna work."

"are you kidding?"

i call delta rubber, give him the numbers and they say they have 45 feet.

"okay, so delta has the hose, can i get a tag for these fittings please?"

"why don't you just get them over there?" he replies.

"i work for blaze, B.L.A.Z.E E.N.G.I.N.E.E.R.I.N.G. in Big Sur. thanks."

i didn't wait for a tag, i took the shit off the counter, stuck it in my sweatshirt front pocket and walked out. WTF?

i roll over to delta rubber, and buddy at the counter says,

"hey Zack, wassup? you really pissed off those guys at CSC. what happened?"

"idiots, they don't want to make any money."

"they are pissed, they called. they want you to go back over there and sign the tag."

"never mind that, do you have these fittings?"

"yep."

"how about that hose i called you for?"

"ready to go."

"sweet, can you call those fuckers over there and tell them they can come and pick up their fittings. I'll leave them here on your counter. is that cool?"

"sure man, whatever. I've never even been in their store."

so i finish my town run and get back to the office and i have a note from George at CSC.

"sorry about the confusion. we would love the opportunity to serve you better in the future. George CSC vice president."

gal in my office, "what did you do?" looks at me with those questioning eyes that only a mother could have. felt like i stepped on her flower garden or something.

"i fucking hate Salinas..."

p.s. thanks to my dad for todays picture.