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Those of you familiar with TMI Thursday know that Lilu gets this train rolling here.  As she says,  "Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, 'how many readers can I estrange THIS week??' TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else's!"

As you have read here before, I used to work at CVS. We once opened a brand new store in Maryland.  The key in retail when opening a new store is to hire as many people that appeared qualified, then the cream of the crop usually rises to the top.  We fired some people quick, like the guy who slept on the job, when he should have been watching out for fires (sprinklers not yet installed), and the kid who stole products from us before the store was open for business.  But we did keep some, including a hispanic woman in her late 30's.  We'll call her M.  M had 2 kids, I think. Her oldest was at the time, a 17 year old daughter we'll call D.

After a few months the store was open, we hired D as well.  D was hot.  All the guys working at the store, most of whom were high school kids, wanted to go out with her.  I was a college senior, and will admit she was attractive.  I was trying to go out with college women, not high school girls, so she wasn't on my radar.

However, apparently I was on hers.  One day, so came into work and checked in at the office, like she normally does.  I was in there doing some paperwork.

D: Want to go dancing tonight after work?
Me: <stammers> Uh, um, uh!
D: I know this great club.
Me: <now composed> No thanks.
D: <walking out the door> You're cute!
Me: <red faced and totally embarrassed>

There is a reason I was stammering and then embarrassed.  More on that in a minute.  The next day, M came up to me.

M: Why won't you go out with D?
Me: Nothing personal, but....
M: <cuts me off> Don't you find her attractive?

You are probably thinking what's wrong with you BMT?  Aren't you a man? A woman and her mother are pushing her on you.  Why are you telling me this boring story?

Me: Yes, but...SHE'S PREGNANT!

To clarify, D was pregnant, showing, and no, I was not the father.  Not a chance, because we were never together.  When I mean showing, it wasn't like she put on weight.  She was really showing.  I have nothing against pregnant women except I don't like to date them while they are pregnant with someone else's kid.

It didn't take long for me to figure it out.  D's baby daddy had left her and wanted nothing to do with the kid.  She was looking for a replacement.  Flattered as I might be, I don't need instant family.  Mom decided to try to help fill that void by trying to coax me into dating D.  Weeks later, D went out on maternity leave and I was transferred to another store (Whew!).  Never saw either of them again.

Maybe I should have named this "TMI Thursday: A Date Men Don't Want".
OK, no not really.  First, apologies for the long time between posts.  From work and other obligations, I've only been able to use Twitter too much.  But now on to this story.

Like many men, I'm a big sports fan.  Hockey is not at the top of my list, but playoff hockey is some pretty good stuff, that I'll actually watch on TV or in person.  As I turned on Game 6 of the Washington Capitals vs the New York Rangers on Sunday, I saw the Caps Donald Brashear take a penalty on a hit against a Ranger.  It was determined he elbowed him and Brashear was suspended for 5 games for that incident.  More about that on the other blog I write for, The DC SportsPage.

That incident reminded me of one I had years ago.  Coincidentally, yet again at CVS, but not at the one with the dumbest person, nor the one with my TMI story.  I have to ask myself, why did I leave that job?  So many good stories I could have for blog entries.  Anyways, the reason why I was gainfully employed at CVS from senior year in high school until a few months after getting my college degree (and even PT for another 4 years), was that my bosses liked my loss prevention skills.  I had both the accounting background to detect paperwork errors, as well as the "gut" feelings and hunches on detecting shoplifters.  Easily in one week, I could catch a shoplifter every other day.  On great weeks, a daily shoplifter was not unusual.

So on a Friday off one day, I went to my store to do some shopping and pick up my pay stub.   I did have direct deposit, but back then I really wanted to pick up my pay stub for some odd reason, even though I was salary and not hourly.  I was in the upstairs security office with one of our supervisors, a woman we'll call Elle.  Elle was a woman I'd be scared to meet in a dark alley because she'd beat the crap out of me.  Even though I was higher on the food chain than her, I generally let her have her say because I didn't want to be on the wrong side. In any case, we looked out at the store, which we could see about 75% of from the office.  We noticed this teenager in the personal appliances section who appeared to be a crack addict.  I say appear because I don't know if it was true or not.  He slipped a hair cutting set into his backpack and proceeded to the back of the store and turned back up to head out the front doors.

Elle and I decided to take action.  She would go to the front of the aisle and block him from exiting, while I would come up from behind and grab his backpack.  Our intention was to take the bag and let him go.  As I walked up behind him and grabbed it, he screamed out.  Then I felt a sharp pain in the right side of my face.  The asshole elbowed me.  Back then I was wearing glasses only and they flew off my face onto a shelf.  By then Elle had caught up to us and she blocked his exit.  Through it, I held onto the bag, and apparently it was important enough to him for him to hold onto it, even though I was yelling "Just let it go!".

Since he would not, I for some stupid reason decided putting him in a headlock was the next logical step.  So the crackhead started yelling at me, "Let me go!", as I dragged his ass from nearly the front of the store to the back.  I had to think of the customers...we couldn't let them witness the beatdown I was going to inflict on him.  Apparently adrenaline kicked in as crackhead bit down on my wrist while he was in the headlock.  I never felt it, but Elle told me that I was bleeding.  He managed to cut through the skin and caused me to bleed.  So with my free arm, I gave him non-stop elbows to the head until he stopped.

What seemed like hours later, the cops finally arrived and dragged crackhead off to jail.  I found out later that crackhead pled guilty so we didn't have to go testify.  I proceeded to go to the ER to get checked out.  Asked for an HIV test, which they gave me, even though they said that unless I got it elsewhere, this incident would not show HIV immediately.  The cut they said was minor, but since I had not had a tetanus shot in awhile, the nurse gave me one right in the waiting room, which pleased a bunch of sick waiting patients there.

So I may not be able to skate or take on steroid raging behemoths in the squared circle, but I felt like a hockey player or wrestler that day.
Those of you familiar with TMI Thursday know that Lilu gets this train rolling here.  As she says,  "Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, 'how many readers can I estrange THIS week??' TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else's!"  This is the latter, because heck, I have relatives reading this.

***This is a one-time special TMI, as I don't really want to do them...Unless it humiliates someone else***

So this story goes back to my days working at CVS.  Last week, I told you about the dumbest person I've known.  You now get a TMI story from a different store at worked at.  For my friends who already know this story and bear not to read it in black and white letters can skip the jump.  Here's a hint, a well dressed customer.

It may be April Fools Day, but I can't remember a really good April Fools story.  The closest I got are a couple of office pranks.  Interestingly enough, the target is the same in both.

The first goes back a few years.  A friend and co-worker from another department asked for my opinion about something to do with construction paper.  When we got to her office, somehow it dawned on both of us that the paper could be used in an interesting office prank.  If you remember a New York Mets Manager named Bobby Valentine, then this story should sound familar.  He was once ejected from a game.  He then decided to return to the dugout, a no-no for you non-baseball people, disguised with a Groucho Marx like glasses and fake moustache.  A co-worker in the PR department was a huge Mets fan.  He had Mets souveniours in his office, including a baseball cap.  So we managed to steal it out of his office.  We then used the black construction paper to build a moustache, and I took off my contacts and put on glasses.  Donning the Mets cap, I went down to his office, as he was conducting a phone interview and sat down.  He looked up, starting chuckling and had to excuse himself from the call as he hung up and laughed out loud (or should I use LOL here??).  Luckily, his interview was a reporter he knew pretty well, so when he relayed the story later, the reporter understood.

The second story also involved my PR friend.  It was his last day working at that organization.  A few of us, probably over too many beers, decided to move his office to the hallway.  On the Friday, we got in early and moved his chairs, desk, and everything on it, out to the main hallway.  That was no easy task, as his office was nearly at one end of the building, around a corner and we were putting him in the center of the building.  We had intended to put him out in front of the elevators, but we had to get past some pesky glass doors and decided against it.  So instead he was right in front of a conference room.  I think we managed to hook up his phone.  No go on the computer, but it was essentially his desk in the hall.  I worked up a floor so I couldn't see his reaction, but my co-horts told me it was hilarious.  He even decided to work there for about half an hour until the office manager finally told him, and some of us, to move him back to his office.

Good times.  Being a consultant nowadays, I can't exactly do that to a client.

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