He's Always On Time

He may not come when you want him but He's always right on time. The song kept coming out of my mouth all Tuesday morning. The phone rang. It's Wal-Mart telling me that orientation is Thursday, noon to 8 p.m. You're kidding, right? I've been sitting since who knows when and now that company is coming, I have to go to work??? Well, as much as I'd like to be the "hostess with the mostest", I need to work more. They'll have to understand.

Delorace and Walter, friends from Greater First Baptist, were stopping through on their way home from Mississippi; Pat, long time friend from the days at the National Geographic, was coming through Saturday on her way back to Arkansas. And I have to be at work on Thursday? I'm thankful for the job.

Still playing the role of the Tasmanian Devil. Stash stuff here. Leave the rest. Bathroom is cleared, painted, and cleaned. Golleee, looks good. Needs some more decorative things but a fresh coat of paint does wonders. Got stuff stashed that can be used. No problem. Can't find the window cleaner for the mirrors. Know I saw it somewhere. Towels hung. Where are the good face cloths? Hell if I know. When finances permit, I'll have the missing tiles replaced around the baseboard. Hallway needs a second coat but it is fresh and clean. Creative wall in bedroom still looks awful. UGLY! My bedroom? A disaster. Contemplating how to keep guests from looking in; not going to happen. Just deal with it.

Showered and made it to the kitchen. Maybe I can get something done before they arrive. I've got the makings for a meal and tea. No one, North or, especially, in the South, lets guests come without offering a meal. But I haven't finished cleaning the oven. No, I haven't used the stove not once since it arrived. And, it arrived with an oven in definite need of cleaning. So why didn't you clean it? It was a very, very low priority since it was too damned hot to cook anything in the oven. Or, on the stove top, for that matter. Didn't need anything generating more heat in this house. And now, here I am, needing the oven and the consequences of procrastination have reared their ugly head. AGAIN.

Phone rings. They are in Ripley, at the Wal-Mart, 1.3 miles from the house. No cleaning, painting, etc., will get done. It's Show Time!

Am I ever glad to see them. Tea didn't get made so I can only offer water. Seldom have sodas on hand, even in flush times. Off to the front porch. If you think magpies chatter, you should have heard us. Well, no meal at Serendipity so we're off to the Big Rip's dining district. I give them their choice: plain home-cooked food, a pricier home-cooked food, or Chinese. We go to the steakhouse. Leaving there, we take a short tootle around the other side of the shopping district and through an area of homes similar to those in the DC suburbs. Everyone doesn't live in a relic like Seredipity or a trailer park. Back to the house and chatter some more. The working girl has to be at her good job the next day. So much for sight-seeing in Memphis.

Off to Wally World. 1.3 miles from home. The good Lord knew that I didn't need to be traveling over east jablip to and from a job. Car breaks down, who am I going to call? I am most thankful. Not paying any money but some coming in is better than none at all. We're told to wear blue tops and beige slacks. Slacks I've got covered. Blue top? All of my blue tops are t-shirts with writing on them. Alright, a blue blouse. Not quite what I would wear to work on the floor of a store (at least it didn't have ruffles) but it will do until they give me a polo top.

Orientation was a comedy of errors. Unorganized, lax, embarrassing in the real world, laughable, but hey, I'm here to make a dollar not critique their process. But, of course, you know I am. How this little girl got the position of Training Coordinator, I'll never know. Turns out she's been there two years. Not a clue. An Assistant Mgr. talked on key points: timeliness, absences, stealing, DO NO WORK off the clock, etc. Very personable, talkative, reminded me of my child. But he was off the mark as well. He can manage and probably train people hands-on. Not trained as a speaker or told to explain his points, not just rattle down the list. On to the training. We sat in front of a computer and watched modules for the entire time. Oh Lord! Listen to one, take the test, move to the next. And there were over twenty to be completed. Drone, drone, drone. Don't go to sleep, stretch, do anything to stay awake. Finally, time to go home. More of the same for Friday.

Told that I would work Saturday and Sunday but they don't know the hours. Great! Pat is coming Saturday. Have to get in touch and let her know the change in plans. Keep reminding everybody in charge that I won't be here Friday through Monday. I'm sure everyone knows by now that my only child is getting married. I think they understand that Wal-Mart comes second in the scheme of things, even if it means they fire me. Which won't happen.

Delorace and Walter have prepared a directive for me with regard to repairs. They've also adjusted my motion detector so that it is a security light, coming on at dusk and staying on to dawn. Extremely thankful because that is the side with the trees and extremely dark. I appreciate their time, interest, and concern. Not to mention giving of their expertise. Thank you. They've also done a little exploring on their own. Huddle House for breakfast; Emily's--home of the plain home-cooked food--for dinner. Weren't prepared for the humongous servings they received. It is a shock. Pancakes are the size of the plate they are served on and a stack of three. One is enough, thank you. More chatter and off to bed. Working girl has to be in at 9 a.m.

We're out of the house, posing for pictures, and tears are welling. I can't go to work crying for Pete's sake. Hopefully, they'll come through again on their trips back and forth to Mississippi. Enjoyed it. Love ya.

More of the same at Wally World. Asking questions. Yeah, I haven't changed. Too much left unexplained. Finally finish around 2:30, way ahead of the other three in my class. Turns out we each had a different module depending on where we would work. I'm going to the floor but the people in my department, housewares (uh oh--wrong section to put me in), are leaving so they have to find a spot for me. Toys. Yippee! Years ago, when the real estate market took a hit, I took a job stocking at night at KMart. Anything to make ends meet. I loved working the toy section. Of course, I'd forgotten how messed up it is because every kid in the world makes a beeline there, picking up, playing with, and making a mess. But this is old territory for me. Have you been to the toy department lately? I don't have children to buy for and it is amazing. I see Cabbage Patch dolls are still around but Bratz? Safari Girls? Thankful I have no children. I had a hard enough time making Christmas for KB when he was small. Trying to do it now? Please.

Given my schedule for the coming week. Off Saturday and Sunday. Got to get back to Pat. Maybe we can still hook up. And, yes, KB, I'll be on the plane Friday.

Sade, one of my orientation mates, finishes her module and is brought into toys to work. She's from Detroit, just relocated to Ripley with her fiance. She, too, wants to be self-employed. Wants to start a catering service. Oh, boy. I'm off to the races. You need to do this, this, and this. Since she will be working at night, she can take orders from the nearby plants and deliver lunches. Barber and beauty shops. Start small and let the business grow. I'm in my element. I can tell you how to make money; I can't make any for myself. And, yes, Gladys, there I go again, giving away free information when I should be charging for it. Hit the time clock and home I go. The working girl is tired.