My initial question, the one related to whether the alert is important or an annoyance, unanswered, I opt to check the phone and return to route finding later. I pick up the phone and navigate to my list of text messages. After tapping on the boss's name, I stared at the phone in disbelief. The first sentence left me in shock - "The poker room is going to hire 1 full time swing shift floor supervisor." It seemed an eternity before I could move, or even read further.
Texts such as these, coming after 10pm on a Friday night, evoke nightmares of the bursting of the tech bubble. Layoffs were dealt out near close of business on Fridays. A summons to the boss's office at 4pm on a Friday left its receiver with a feeling of dread. Everyone knew what happened in those offices on Friday afternoons.
I called over to the wife. "Hey," I said, "I might have just gotten screwed. Apparently, we're hiring a new swing shift floor."
Her response said it all. "What? Isn't that the job you do, though?"
"Yes," I replied, "yes, it is."
I learned I had 72 hours to apply for the job I already held. After the initial anger subsided, I went online and completed the job application. At the end of the application process, the system presented me with a message saying something along the lines of "Thank you for your interest in working for us. We regret to inform you that your application will not be considered for the position you applied for as you do not currently meet our requirements for that position."
I almost started packing for Hawaii. I cursed, thought about tossing the phone in the pool. I fired up realtor sites from Maui. I drank a beer. I fired off a couple of text messages to the boss trying to determine what would happen if they selected someone else, if I needed to make contingency plans. I gave up waiting for an answer and went to sleep. I decided to simply act as if nothing had changed and keep doing my job as best I could.
We all applied, all of us who work the floor. A few outside the company applied as well. The job posting came down. We waited. 10pm the next Friday night, in a scenario that played out much like the previous Friday night, my phone buzzed with an incoming text message. "Are you available tomorrow at 12p for your interview?"
The thing that surprised me the most through this whole process, the thing that made me happy I didn't jump on a plane for Hawaii, is the support I got from the people I work with. Dealers, Cashiers, other Floors, all expressed their belief that I should get the job. I felt overwhelmed. I've said before that I like the people I work with. Now I like them a bit more ;)
In the end, the powers that be awarded me the job. I lose the 4-day work week I currently enjoy, but I will adapt.
It rained the past few days. I suppose I might have checked the weather report before deciding to build a shed, but I didn't. I now own a half-done shed in the far corner of the yard. The part that's done looks really nice. I even gave up hiking on Wednesday in order to have enough time to get the shed done before I returned to work. Mother Nature is a punk.
A while back, I posted something about our HPO Regional Event coming in January. It looks like we're going to start running satellites for the $40k Guarantee throughout the month of January, maybe sooner. We need to nail down some details - what times of the day are best to hold said satellites, what should the buy-in be, etc. - but we should have more info soon.
We also had the idea to hold satellites for the $999 weekend package. As I mentioned in the previous post, $999 gets you entry into all three tournaments ($10k, $20k, & $40k), 2 nights at the hotel, and a $100 credit you can use at the spa or any restaurant on property. It seems to me like there should be some interest in satellites for that type of thing. Once we figure out if anyone is interested, we plan on putting the details together and start giving those away, too.
Did I mention it rained? Needing to haul a shit-ton of wood from the big box store to my garage, I of course removed the doors and the wind blocker from the Jeep so as to fit said wood. The Jeep then sat in the driveway as I used to garage to build shed components.
I just finished draining 4 inches of water from the Jeep. Cold water. Water cold enough to numb my hand while I fumbled looking for the drain valve to pop open under the carpet.
I finished loading the pack, hoisted it over my shoulder, and headed out to the Jeep. At the trailhead, I grabbed the pack and started off for my destination. Coming across something photo worthy, I stopped and lowered my pack.
The moment I pulled the camera from it's case, I sensed something was wrong. The reality of the situation didn't kick in immediately, though, and I started going through the process of prepping to take the shot. When I picked the camera up the second time, I held it to my eye and instinctively reached from the circular polarizer on the end of the lens.
Something felt wrong, though. I lowered the camera and stared at the lens for a moment before realizing the filter I had reached for wasn't there. I set the camera down and emptied the contents of my pack in a search for the filter. There was no filter to be found. I thought that weird, especially since I had no memory of removing the filter, but I knew I had a regular UV filter in the bag so I fished that out.
Only when I tried to put the UV filter on the lens did I realize the situation I faced. The polarizer filter, I discovered, wasn't the only thing missing. Also missing from my lens was the ring onto which the filters attached. In fact, I realized with a start, fully one quarter of the lens was missing. I repacked, knowing I would take no photos that day.
After the hike, I scoured the ground around the Jeep. I pulled the carpet in the Jeep up. Had I been in possession of the correct tools, I might even have removed the seats at that point. Once satisfied that my missing lens component(s) waited for my discovery somewhere other than the Jeep, I drove home.
I went through the gear room with a fine-tooth comb. No lens pieces. I repeated the procedure in my office. No lens pieces. I waited. Once the wife arrived home, I explained my problem. She produced the lens pieces from a basket of miscellaneous stuff. I still fail to understand how a quarter of my lens might fall off and I not notice, but I'll leave my absent-mindedness to another day.
I took the lens to Casey's Camera to see if it might be fixed. Mentally prepared for a large repair estimate, I already knew what the contingency plan was. If the lens cost more to fix that a new V1 camera, I would buy the V1 instead. I left the lens, assured by the lady behind the desk that someone would call me Monday.
I called Tuesday after hearing nothing. The repair guru informed me the estimate wouldn't be ready until at least Friday. I called Friday evening after hearing nothing. The repair guru informed me he had no record of my lens ever being in their possession.
I steamed. After the initial anger subsided, I moped. At some point during my moping, I reached the conclusion that if they had lost my lens, a lens I held a piece of paper from them saying they had, they could gift me a new lens...or that new V1 with some extras thrown in.
The next day, I arrived at the camera shop shortly after they opened. The repair dude, the lady behind the counter informed me, wouldn't be in until noon. I grumbled. The lady offered to look into the issue while I waited. I reluctantly handed her the yellow ticket that provided my only proof the camera shop ever had my lens, and then I paced.
She eventually returned, lens in hand. The serial numbers matched, but someone had associated my lens with a Gordon SomethingOrRather. Worse, the repairs had already been completed without my approval of the estimate - I only guess that Gordon gave his approval. I asked what the damage was, and almost laughed when she said $50.
I paid the $50 and left the store happy. I truly hope Gordon gets back whatever equipment he dropped off...
I walked out onto the back patio, the covered back patio, and audibly sighed when the drops of water hit my head. I hate rain. Were it to not rain, I'd not have to be concerned about fixing the roof over the patio. Were it to not rain, I might not harbor animosity towards the handyman dude that gave me the sweet $1200 estimate...and never showed up to do the job.
Of course, were I not so lazy, I'd fix it myself. Several factors currently keep that thought pushed well back in the depths of my brain. Most importantly, I hate working over my head. The mere thought of holding up a full sheet of drywall above my head while I try to run through a screw...pfffftt!
The most amazing thing happened to me the other night! The lady who yelled at me and told me I knew nothing about running a poker room, back on this night, came in to play. Seeing her walking down the rail, I rushed from behind the counter and walked straight to the rail. I greeted her with a smile, informed her a new game was starting within moments, and asked which seat she would like me to lock up for her. She looked perplexed.
Upon cashing out, she made it a point to apologize to me for the previous episode and tell me she thought I ran a good room. A customer apologized to me for yelling at me. That seriously might have been a first in my time in Vegas ;)
Enough rambling. Going out back to drink a beer in the rain and curse a bit longer at Mother Nature. G'nite!