PISSING VINEGAR Vol. 30: Random Hostility, Book Five
Written February 20, 2003

Okay, here's the situation...

It's been a good Goddamn long time since I graced this webspace with some new shit, and there sure is a lot of catching up to do.

So, where to start? So much has changed in the last five months, and I want to talk about everything. Sadly, there isn't enough space on the web to vent ALL of my frustrations, so let's single some of the more important ones out in yet another edition of Random Hostility.

1. My Fucking Job (or, lack thereof)

Since being dismissed from my duties as a radio announcer / music director, I've noticed a steady increase of negative comments about the local radio station, which flipped to FM about a month ago. It seems that a lot of people are dissatisfied with the way things are being handled there. Now, while I love hearing people tell me how stupid those corporate assfucks were to let me go, I think I take even greater enjoyment out of the tongue-lashing the current staff is getting from people I meet out on the street. This may seem egotistical of me, but it seems to me like many people saw me as the glue that held that place together, and now that I'm gone the castle is crumbling. Well... good! I'm not normally the type of guy to burn bridges, but hand me a match and some fucking kerosene, because this fucker's goin' up! Would you want to work for a company that won't even acknowledge you when you do something that has a positive effect on your business, but won't hesitate for a second to act upon the meaningless bitching and moaning of the boss' wife? Now, I don't have evidence to support my claim, but let's just say I suspect more than a little politics played into my dismissal. Hey, maybe they read past Pissing Vinegars and saw that not only was I unhappy with the direction of the company, but that I also had a fully functional brain. Because, as we all know, the mind is the most dangerous weapon of all.

At any rate, the state of The River is not good, from what I've been hearing. In fact, I've only heard ONE positive comment about them since they went to FM, that being that "the music isn't too bad". Guess who laid THAT foundation? I won't name any names, but let's just say he's typing this right now.

On a similar topic I have found that, surprisingly enough, it's pretty Goddamn hard to find a job in New Brunswick! We've got countless old people sitting around in council meetings bitching about the fact that all their grandkids are leaving, and they're oblivious to the reason why. There ARE no fucking jobs for young people in this province! Unless you want to sling greasy food on a grill or hack down half the forest with a chainsaw, you're pretty much shit out of luck. That is, unless, you're not too good to be constantly demeaned in a call centre. I applied for a position at a call centre in October. My job would consist of handling inquiries from Americans whose credit card accounts have been cancelled. What the fuck is more grating and belittling than spending all day listening to pissed off Americans spout from the mouth about their money problems? At any rate, what it came down to is the fact that I was flat broke and needed something... ANYTHING... to make ends meet. So I had the interview, and was informed that I had earned a position, and that a course would be starting in November, and that they'd give me a call with more information soon. As of this writing... you guessed it... still no phone call.

2. EI: It's A Good Life, If You Don't Die Of Starvation Waiting For Your First Payment

So, when I was dismissed from my fucking job, I was given a rather handsome severance package (you know, for a radio guy). And I decided that I'd probably never have the chance again to spend a little cash gratuitously, so I made a few short trips, bought myself a few nice things, etc., etc. Well, by the middle of October, the cash cow had been long turned into burgers and milk, and devoured by the wolves as a tasty treat. So now, all I had to do was wait for my EI benefits to kick in. But alas, there was a problem. See, when you get a severance package, they factor that in when figuring out your benefits. So, they calculated how long they thought that money SHOULD have lasted me, THEN tacked on their standard waiting period. When all was said and done, I was told that I would be eligible for benefits, probably, by late November. Finally, one gorgeous late autumn day, I got a phone call from Human Resources, asking a couple of final questions before giving me a phone number to start filing my claimant's reports, and informing me that I should be receiving a payment the following week. That was around mid-November, and I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly things had been sorted out for me. The following week, I did indeed receive an envelope from HRDC, but there was no payment. Instead, the letter informed me, I was not eligible for benefits until December 22. Now, here I was flat broke, with Christmas presents to buy. Not fun. So, I scraped through on loans from friends and the Bank of Mom (lowest interest rates in the nation AND free roast beef!). On the week ending December 21, I called in my claimant's report. I had claimed the past four weeks, so surely I would be getting some cash, right? Wrong. No money came, so I called to find out what the flaming fuck was going on. Much to my chagrin, I was told that my waiting period didn't end on December 22... it STARTED on December 22.

Eventually, I did start receiving benefits. My first cheque came on January 21. So, looking back, I really don't know how the hell I even survived. Sure, I was earning $50 a week calling bingo, but I'm a smoker and a driver, so $50 lasts me about two days if I'm lucky. It's really hard to believe, but I was very close to completely broke for a full three months. Needless to say, it was a shitty Christmas for the most part. But now, things are finally turning around. As long as I can get a job by this November, I think things are going to be just fine.

3. ...Or Are They?

So, through all of my financial burdens, I have emerged victorious. After getting my first EI cheque, I made arrangements to take out a loan at the Credit Union, where I consolidated the majority of my debts, including my car loan (yes, kids, the dirty rat bastards at Scotiabank will never be the subject of a PV again, because I've severed ties with the cumdumpsters). Included in this was the amount which I owed for child support. So, upon receiving the OK for the loan, I was shocked to find that there was an extra $1000 included with the loan. I would later find out that this was to cover the overdraft on my account, plus a healthy chunk of cash for insurance, since I don't have a fucking job. However, seeing that extra money there made me think I was rich, which is never a good thing for me to be thinking. I bought a few things for myself as a celebration of the fact that I had money for the first time in months. However, suddenly, I checked my account to find out that I had much less money than I had thought. As it turns out, the folks at the Credit Union had turned off my overdraft, but not before I had spent most of it. Talk about your holy shit moments; now I was suddenly short on my child support. So, I went to the court house to make whatever payment I could. Here's where shit gets complicated. Back in the day, my ex was on income assistance. During that time period, I was having some financial difficulties of my own, and got behind in my support payments. Eventually, we worked out a system where a certain amount of the owing amount would be garnished from my wages, in addition to my regular payment. It was perfect, bacuse the payments automatically came out, out of sight and out of mind. However, of course, then I lost my fucking job. No wages for me, no garnishing for them. Of course, after my little severance package spending spree, I wasn't earning any new money, so I obviously couldn't continue making payments on anything. Regardless, just before I lost my fucking job, my ex went off social assistance. So the way it breaks down is that the money I owed from before she went off assistance is payable to the Minister of Finance, and the money I owed from after she went off assistance is payable to her. Okay? Okay.

Okay, so fast forward to February 13, when I made my trip to the court house to make a child support payment. Here's how it all broke down... I owed $960 to the Minister Of Finance, and $428 to my ex. At the time, I had about $1000 in my account, so I offered to pay the $960 owing to the Minister Of Finance. Imagine my shock and surprise when the person behind the counter told me it would be better to instead pay the $428 owing to my ex, even though the previous debt, in addition to being more than twice that amount, was much more past due. Thinking ahead, I offered to pay the $428 owing to my ex, plus the next payment of $138, for a total of $566. They took the money without a hitch, and I was on my way, knowing that sooner or later I would have to make some sort of arrangement to pay the other $960. Little did I know how soon sooner would be.

That weekend, I had the great joy of finally moving back into an apartment with my girlfriend Carrie, after over two months living with my parents. Things were looking up in the biggest way. I even took it upon myself to propose to Carrie (obviously, she said yes... I mean, come on, who wouldn't want to marry me?). Everything was fantastic. Until last night. I got a phone call from my mom, and apparently on Monday (the 17th), the county sherriff, or who the fuck ever, came to my parents' place looking for me. And, apparently, I have to go to court in March to face some sort of charges relating to the non-payment of (get this) $960 to the Minister Of Finance. So, the question begs to be asked... if this $960 was such a big deal to get their paws on, why didn't they accept it when I offered it to them four days earlier? The answer may lie in the fact that the court papers that are waiting for me at my parents' house are dated February 7. So, another question... If these people had six-day old court papers on me, why the fuck didn't they inform me of this when I was standing in their fucking office with my bank card in my hand? Methinks perhaps someone at Family Services would rather see me state my case for the judge rather than get my fucking life back on track.

Oh, but rest assured, dear readers, they won't take me down. I have my receipt with me at all times, and I can't wait to ask the judge the same questions I've posed for you just now. And maybe in the future Family Services employees will think twice about the bullshit that comes out of their mouths while they're signing said receipt.



So, that's about where we stand. There is plenty more to talk about, and I will get to everything in due time. What... you didn't think I was going to blow five months of pent-up aggression on one fucking column, did you? I've got to hang on to some of this material for the next time I get writer's block.

Anyway, I'll close by saying that it's great to be back, and that I'll do my best to give you insatiable freaks an adequate dose of Vinegar in your diet for a long time to come.