Tales of the DVK

Apparently there is some question as to who should receive the multi-million dollar inheritance from the late pro wrestler Chris Benoit. If you are not familiar with the story, Benoit for whatever reason killed his family and then himself. Under Georgia law it breaks down to a seemingly simple question: Who did he kill first - his wife or his son?

If he killed his wife, Nancy, first then his 2 children from a previous marriage will receive the inheritance.

If he killed his son first then his wife's family will receive the inheritance.

Technically it was Benoit himself who died last but there is a Slayer Statute that in legal terms causes him to be considered the first person who died.

So let me get this straight...
His in-laws are trying to prevent his other biological children from receiving the inheritance?

Why would they do that? In a statement they said they are just trying to make sure money goes to the legal heir. Yeah, right! It looks to me like they are being greedy and vindictive. They are mad about Nancy's death and they want to feel better about it by taking money away from children. We're talking millions of dollars so of course it is very tempting but in a perfect world (which of course this one is not) the money would be divided equally among any surviving children with no questions asked.

Thoughts?

So my gym is opening on the edge of Torrance and Lawndale. By "the edge" I mean our side of the street is Torrance and if you cross the street you are in Lawndale. I once had a car accident (not my fault!) in one of the nearby intersections and had to wait for Torrance and Lawndale to argue over who should take the report based on which lane of traffic the accident occurred in... but that's a story for another time... anyway, you get the idea, we're right on the edge.

As I sign people up for their memberships and as I overhear other people singing up I have noticed a frequent inquiry, said with a blatant tone of disgust: "Are you guys signing up a lot of people from Lawndale?"

That's the point when I smile and inform them that I live in Lawndale.

I've lived in The South Bay all my life. Born in Torrance, spent a little time in El Segundo, A few years in Redondo Beach, a few years in Torrance, a few more years in Redondo, and I've spent the past year in Lawndale. 

Let me tell you about the problems I had in Redondo Beach: constant loud parties, my car's battery stolen twice, motorhomes parked up and down the street and a subsequent lack of parking, neighbors who threatened me, graffiti,  drug dealers living in the building next-door, and on 3 different occasions I interrupted someone from stealing my neighbor's truck.

I have never once had a problem while living in Lawndale and have never once had to call the sheriffs, whereas I had the RBPD on speed-dial.

Granted, there are some undeniably dumpy areas of Lawndale, but the same can be said for any given city. South and West Torrance are nice, but have you ever been to the PO area of Torrance? Through further discussion with concerned individuals I often discover that the people who are so concerned about Lawndale haven't spent any noteworthy amount of time in the city, other than to drive by once and a while and gossip amongst themselves about how they are soooo glad they live in Torrance or Redondo. I guess some people will take an ego trip any way they can get it.

So tell me, have you been to Lawndale? Is it such a bad place? Why or why not? 

So my manager said to me, "Kat, my favorite of all employees, sparkling jewel of the sales team, she who this company cannot function without, you have spent enough time in the parking lot and now I would like for you to set up a table inside the nearby bank."

I may have embellished that just a little.

The fact remains, though, that my time at the sales tent has been interrupted in favor of a more air-conditioned domain. What this meant for me - besides not having to slather on the sunscreen before work each day - was that I got to meet all of the people who I would have otherwise observed in the parking lot if they  had chosen to enter the lot by the gym rather than the driveway nearer to the bank. Allow me to introduce a few of my favorites:

The guy who wants a business card. Here you go, take one, take as many as you like, I've got cases of these. "Is this your direct extension?" No, that's the number for the front desk. Call, ask for me, and you'll be transferred. "Well how can I contact you directly?" Call, ask for me, and you'll be transferred. "Don't you have a cell number?" Yes but you can't have it. Call the desk, ask for me, and you'll be transferred. "But what if I only want to talk to you?" Call, ask for me, and you'll be transferred.

The teller who works out at Bally's. This conversation took place over the course of the entire day as he would walk by once every 15ish minutes for a brief exchange. "Are you having fun here?" Yes, lots and lots. Would you like a flyer? "No thanks, I'm at Bally's. Isn't it fun in here?" Yeah, a thrill and a half. Would you like a flyer? "No thanks, I've got a 3-year contract." Sorry to hear that. Our facility offers month-to-month memberships because we feel our superior means we do not have to contractually bind you to us and you will choose to come back on your own volition. "But Bally's is right by my house." This is the 6th location in the South Bay. We're right by your house too. And your work. And your pharmacy. He took a flyer.

The blame game. Woman walks in and immediately starts yelling at the first employee she sees. Apparently there was some kind of charge on her account that she was not expecting and over the course of the next 5 minutes I and everyone else in the building overheard all of the pertinent information for her account as well as her expenditures for the past 3 years. Still she wondered how she could have ever possibly been the victim of identity theft.

Flexing men. I offer them a flyer and their response is to flex their biceps and tauntingly ask why they would need to join a gym. Ok, so you have a muscle or two in your arm. Is that it? Is that the extent of how much you care for yourself? How if your heart? Your lungs? Your back, stomach, and lower body? How are your nutritional habits? How certain are you that the exercise you are doing isn't actually harming your body in the long run?How often do you vary your workout habits and are you aware of how your results will begin to plateau if you do not continually vary your routine? Same applies to people who have a piece or two of exercise equipment at home. Here, take a flyer.

"A gym? What is a gym?" Do you know how many times I had to answer that question?

"Which deposit slip would I use for... oh, you don't work here." No, I do not work here. Congratulations, though, on figuring out why I am wearing this bright read shirt with a fitness company's logo and sitting behind this table with a banner also emblazoned with the company logo and handing out these flyers similarly marked with the fitness company's logo instead of the bank logo.

Women with screaming children. They are positively waiting for some nice person to offer them a flyer, smile sympathetically, and tell them we have child care services. Or just smile sympathetically. A smile can do so much to improve a mom's day.

The people who don't feel like they should have to wait in line but everybody else does. "I'm in a hurry! I have to be back at work in 15 minutes!" Is that the fault of anyone else here?
These people who have been standing here for 25 minutes should all step aside because you feel like you must be on a tighter schedule than any of them could possibly be? Here's a flyer, you can read it while you wait.

"So where will this gym be located?" It's right next to the CVS. "Where is the CVS?" Um, it's that big building right outside the front door with the letters C, V, and S on it...

"Will you be working there?" No, I like to show up to tables belonging to random companies and hand out their flyers.

"Will you be working out there?" Nah, I just spent 10 minutes telling you why our company is so great and now I'm gonna go lock myself into a 3-year contract with a different inferior company.

The woman who works at the YMCA gym. The, ahem, very large woman who works at the YMCA gym... and the 5 people in line behind her who were making rather loud and rather rude comments about the woman's size in comparison to my size (all 105lbs of me) and their subsequent decision to speak to me rather than her about membership. The woman's response was to say something catty to me as she left the building despite the fact that I had not said one word to her, nor did I make any effort to provoke the people in line to say what they said about her. I wasn't happy about what the people were saying about her, as they left I made no effort to communicate with them, and I would prefer not to see people like that as members at my work on a daily basis. Still it was her comment and not theirs that upset me the most. Why? Because she was blaming me for how people perceive her. I'm sorry to see she is so unhappy with herself that she would pay the slightest bit of attention to those people and in turn find it necessary to blame me for it. I got the distinct impression that it wasn't the first time someone had commented about her size in relation to her occupation. It is sad that people would treat her like that, it really is, but at no point did their remarks become my fault. If you worked at a car dealership, drove a car from your dealership, your car stalled in front of a competitor's dealership and someone laughed at you, would you be justified in yelling at your competitor for your troubles? Don't hesitate to tell me if I'm wrong.

Anyway, this is turning into more of a superfluous commentary on the ills of society than I intended so I'm going to wrap this up and file it under news since there still isn't a "Guess What I Did Today" category.  If you managed to read this far then perhaps to you can allow me the pleasure of reading comments from you describing your latest adventures in the world of employment or interacting with people who are otherwise employed.

So I have this new job at a gym. I'm in the sales department, the hours are great, can't complain about the pay, and my co-workers are a constant source of amusement. Sounds good, right?

Well there is one little issue...

The club isn't open yet. It will open in about 6 weeks. In the meantime we need to build our membership base. Where does that leave the 5 of us who comprise the sales department?

In a parking lot.

Say what?

We have a tent emblazoned with our company logo and we hope people will drive by and be unable to resist the urge to sign up with us. We pass out countless flyers and business cards, make endless phone calls, schedule appointments so we can meet our goals, and the next day start all over again.

It's actually not nearly as bad as it sounds.

The worst part is the sun. As I stated, we're out there in the tent most of the time and depending on the time of day and direction of the sun we have minimal shade. What am I getting at? I am sunburnt. Badly. I found myself singing Rock Lobster by the B52's most of yesterday, with increasing enthusiasm as the day progressed to match the precise shade of red that I was turning despite my constant coating and re-coating of SPF50 sunscreen. Oddly enough, my sales increase proportionally to how burnt I am. My co-workers theorize that it makes me less intimidating and more approachable. I wonder, how intimidating could a quiet girl of no more than 100lbs be in the first place??

My boss' boss has been reviewing my sales figures and I overheard her telling him that she is very impressed and has never seen someone do so well so soon... which is nice because I'll have something happy to think about when I am inevitably diagnosed with melanoma... lol...

I wonder, though, why I don't see other people who work outside looking as burnt as I look. Have they been burnt so many times that they are no longer capable of burning? Are they using some secret sunscreen formula? Higher SPF? Lower? What's the deal?

Extra-crispily yours,
Kat