I just realized that not only is today Labor Day, today also marks
the beginning of my fifth year of sliding the chute.
Yep, I officially retired on September 7, 2010.
I usually buy something to mark the occasion. In the past, I’d
generally be walking into Starbucks, forgetting all about my anniversary date
until I’d spot a Starbucks Anniversary Mug -- issued because Starbuck’s Anniversary coincided
with mine, so I'd add the special issue mug to my already extensive collection
of Starbucks memorabilia.
Starbucks issued no mug this year. Instead, they put out
Anniversary Blends.
I’ve no interest in making my own coffee, and I’ve nothing
else up my sleeves to commemorate the date, so I’m going to settle for the fact
I even remembered without an anniversary mug to jog my memory.
Yesterday’s get-together appeared to have been
successful.
It was hot as Hyades when I headed for the patio area at the appointed time of 2:00. As I approached, I saw everything was already in full swing, with quite a
few residents packed into the patio area.
They must have gotten started
early, though
I, because people were already eating.
I’d had a premonition the festivities might begin early, because
they generally do when food is involved so, when I returned from the market
with the hot dogs buns and chips, inasmuch as the route to my parking spot went
right by Apache’s unit, I parked, got out of the car, rang his bell and handed
over the buns and chips.
“Aren’t you coming?” asked Apache.
“Yes, but I figured you’d be out there early to get things
started.”
And so it was.
I never did get to see whether there were outlets for the George
Forman grills or if hibachis were utilized instead because, halfway there, I spotted Creepy
Guy’s bushy gray hair and, just as I said I would, I turned right around and
returned to my air conditioned unit.
The heat AND creepy guy … I just couldn’t.
Quiet uneventful holiday weekend thus far here in Purgatory; but
not as uneventful as I’d expected it to be because I received a call yesterday afternoon
from The Seer. She, Apache, The Baker, and The Author (the new resident who is
a published author of Christian literature) are organizing a hot dogs and
hamburgers get together, 2:00 today, Sunday, would I like to participate?
Sure.
You bet.
What better way to thumb our noses up at Nurse Ratched’s
successful sabotaging of the new Activity Director’s Labor Day potluck than to
do something successfully on our own.
The area chosen for today’s get together is the patio area by
the grill.
As you can see, we do have a grill, but inasmuch as we no longer
have permission to use said grill, we will be barbequing on resident-owned George
Forman grills.
To backtrack a bit … back when the previous Activity Director
was Nurse Ratched’s target, there were several instances of sabotage and being
uncooperative. One such act of sabotage was the June Father’s Day event.
Barbeque Hot Dogs were on the menu. However, when the then
Activities Director and her three teenage daughters – whom she said had wanted
to come to work with her for some time, had finished lugging in chips, dozens
and dozens and dozens of packages of buns and hot dogs, and went to the grill,
they found it inoperable. Nurse Ratched had removed the propane, and made sure
she wasn’t around to be asked to give it up.
Residents had already gathered, so the then Activities Director
and her daughters had been forced to run out and BUY enough chicken from El
Pollo to cover the event.
An expensive proposition, and then there were all the hot dogs
and buns she’d purchased for the event but were unable to use.
Since that time, the propane remains locked away and the grill
goes unused -- except when management hosts an event for us residents, which is
generally twice a year.
Not to let the lack of propane get in their way, Apache and The
Author (she’s learning rather quickly) are bringing their George Forman grills.
This should be interesting, as I think those Forman grills are
electric and need outlets. I don’t recall any outlets in the patio area, but I
guess I’ll find out at 2:00 today. Otherwise, it will have to be hibachis or
grill inside our units (the Community Room Kitchen is closed) and bring outside.
Who needs an Activity Director, when we can find ways to do it
ourselves.
I imagine, Nurse Ratched will go berserk when she reviews the
tapes and finds out what we’ve been up to over the weekend. She might even try
to come up with a rule to impose that we can’t use Forman grills or hibachis in
the patio area.
But for now it’s on.
Though I agreed to bring the hot dog buns and potato chips, I
don’t imagine my clean eating will be affected much, as I don’t eat hot dogs or
hamburgers. Maybe just a little potato salad, a few chips and just enjoy the
company and the gossip.
However, if Creepy Guy is there, I won’t be tempted even to
potato salad and chips. I’ll be turning around and heading back to my unit.
That’s the only way to describe Tuesday’s Labor Day Potluck …
dismal.
Out of 178 units, only six residents were in attendance -- myself,
the resident referred to in this blog as “Apache”, long time resident Big L – the
woman who is personable when on her meds, but is to be avoided when off (today
she was on ‘em), the woman who use to own a restaurant (let’s call her The Baker)
and two new residents.
No people, no holiday decorations to liven up the place – it was
a dismal failure for the new Activities Director, culture shock for the two new
residents, and a waste of my time, energy and money as I’d run by the deli and
picked up fried chicken.
Apache and The Baker tried to make the new Activities Director feel
better about the situation by telling her attendance was poor because notice had
gone out late, giving residents insufficient time to reply.
That was partly true but another part of the problem was Nurse
Ratched had sabotaged the event beyond not notifying residents in time, she’d
also hidden the sign-up sheet -- moving it from the counter to a new Activities
Board she’d had built, which board no one knew anything about … which board was
added to a wall in the kitchen … a wall in the corner of the kitchen where it’s
more than likely to go unnoticed.
The only way I myself became aware of the Activities Board is
because I’d gone to the Community Room looking for the sign-in sheet. Unable to
locate, I turned to leave when Apache walked in the room and said, “She (Nurse
Ratched) is hiding it in the kitchen. She doesn’t want anyone to sign up. She wants
the new Activities Director to fail.”
Sounds ridiculous doesn’t it – that she could be that petty?
But he’s right, as she’s been doing pettiness beyond hiding the
sign-up sheet that indicates she want this complex to be a no potlucks
or activities zone, for whatever reason. Pettiness like locking all the
cabinets in the kitchen so we have no access to cups, paper plates, napkins,
plastic utensils – some of which we ourselves put there. Also, she put an end
to daily coffee for residents. First by locking up the bags of coffee in her
office so residents had to ask to be allowed to fill the Community Room pot,
THEN she took away the coffee pot.
When Apache directed me to the Board in the kitchen, it was so
well placed so as not to be noticed that I couldn’t find it until Apache
pointed it out. After he and I discussed no one will see it in that location, I
suggested, “Maybe I should put it back where it was before” and went to take
the sign-in sheet down and relocate it. Apache stopped me saying, “She’s
watching us on the camera. That’s how I got in trouble. She saw me move
something, came out and tore into me."
Holy Smokes!
He’s right again.
She’s always watching us residents, looking for some little something
to turn into a big deal.
Dismal as the event was, I stayed and, because there were so few
of us, there were a lot of leftovers -- deli fried chicken, deli macaroni
salad, fried rice, sandwiches, which I assumed would be put in the community
refrigerator for whomever. However, as we were finishing up, the Activities Director
said, “We can’t leave anything behind.”
Curious statement, so I asked, why.
Activities Director: “Because I’m told that’s the rule. We can’t
leave anything in the refrigerator because someone might take it.”
What?!
Who told her that?
Doesn’t take a genius to
figure out Nurse Ratched had gotten to the new Activities Director and laid
down the law because she’s still upset about that Strawberry Pie left over from
the Resident Appreciation Party … which she’d put in the refrigerator, forgot
about for a few days and then raised the roof over as MY PIE! when residents finished
it off.
In response to the Activities Director saying, “Because someone
might take it”, I said, “That’s why we put leftovers in there. So someone will
take it … help themselves.”
Activities Director: “But it’s yours.”
Me: “Yes, and by putting it in the community
refrigerator, I'm telling others to take it … help themselves. That's how it's been for years.”
Activities Director: “But it’s yours.”
Me: “If it’s mine, I take it with me. If I leave it in the
refrigerator, it’s because I want someone to take it, whether it’s leftover
chicken or leftover strawberry pie.”
Apache is one of those who'd gotten in trouble over that strawberry pie, so he's over in the corner laughing.
Activities Director: “Oh, well, if that’s what you want to do.”
I have a sense, the new Activities Director is going to get
discouraged and be gone real soon.
I also imagine that, if Nurse Ratched
discovers any leftovers in the refrigerator, she’ll toss ‘em out, wrap a chain
around the refrigerator and put a padlock on it.
ROFLMAO!
I’d previously said I was “done?” with it all. Now for sure I’m “done”
… period, no question about it.
