11:44 p.m. - 2004-12-01
I Hate That FuckingTown.
Did I ever mention how much I hate that fucktard little town my store is going in?
Here's the latest...
The contractor went to the building's department 2 weeks ago to apply for final inspection for the building (electrical) so we could get our C.O. (Certificate of Occupancy...without that, we cannot start to set the store up or open for business). He had to file more papers because we had added a burglar/fire alarm system and they gave us a song and a dance about it.
Well...the contractor kept calling and calling and leaving messages and never heard back. He goes to town hall today and finds out that it was rejected a fucking week ago because they needed some minor paperwork that could have been resolved with a phone call and/or a fax. A simple courtesy call could have handled the whole problem and it could have been solved in an hour. Not only that, but the inspector never returned the contractor's calls to let him know what was up. If he hadn't gone down there today, we would have still been waiting.
Fuckwit. This guy is jerking us around.
The landlord wanted us open by 12/1, so I think a well placed email to his secretary is in order...just to let him know.
Meanwhile, my contractor said he will never work in that town again. I don't blame him.
On top of everything, I am pissed at my vet.
I brought Spencer in for a routine checkup and bloodwork (his kidneys are starting to go) and the vet called me today while I was out. I called back twice and left my cell phone number and my home number. We ran out tonight and the guy called on my home phone and leaves a message but never called my cell...so, when I called back, they were all gone for the day and she could not take a message unless it was an emergency.
That's right, I left my fucking cell phone number for my health.
Asshole.
