I was working for a xtian attorney up until a couple of weeks ago.  I was at the Workforce Solutions getting job leads.  My pet peeve is that it is required to do a supervised job search at the workforce.  Excuse me?  This stupid rule makes it where you have to put up with screaming, crying brats that are running all over the place and the stupid parents are ignoring their litter of veals.


I know that parents have to look for employment, however, when the "father" is with a job counselor, does he have to bring his whole tribe to subject people to his genetic terrorists?


This child screamed so that I was tempted to grab her and throw her in the trash can. 

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I don't have any solutions for you.

I went through the same torture when I was going to a County hospital clinic for over a year because I had a parathyroid condition (I eventually had surgery...fixed it right up!)  I was only working part-time and had no insurance, and no money.  Whole families would accompany one patient, take up all the chairs in the waiting rooms, kids running around, yelling, etc.  I was terribly tempted, SO many times, to sneak my cane in front of a mob of them.

The nurses and receptionists just ignored the mayhem; I guess they were used to it.

I did complain about it once, and the person I complained to whispered that "[certain ethnic groups] don't 'believe' in baby-sitters."  If mother or grandma has to go to the doctor, the whole fam-damily goes with her.

Same thing on the in-patient floors...I was there for 6 days after my surgery, and the racket in the halls was incredible.  Sounded like Party Time.  In 4 or 5 different languages.

Yeah. I wanted to hit someone. Often.

Regina and sk8eycat - both your stories sound terrible. I hate going to the store sometimes because the kids run around screaming. It hurts my ears.

Nothing worse than airplanes though...especially 20+ hour flights!

Yeah I would have to agree with that. Must be miserable to go through.

Try a 36+ hour train trip in coach class. 

I absolutely love travelling by rail (and am so p*ssed-off at the TSA paranoia that I won't put up with any of their airport BS), but Amtrak has some trains in which the lower "deck" of one coach car is the "kiddie room."  Books, games, DVD movies, etc.  The rules say that a child must be accompanied by an adult in there, but the car attendants are usually too busy with other things to keep a constant eye on the playroom.  (I have nothing but praise for Amtrak employees; it's a nearly impossible job, and the ones I've met do it with kindness, style, and humor.)

As long as the sliding door is closed, the noise doesn't carry to the passengers in the upper "deck," but on one trip there were so many kids running in and out, with the door opening and closing, that I finally asked the conductor if I could move to another car. She let me.  No problem.  But ever after that, I have always asked NOT to be put in the kiddie car when I book a trip.  Or even near it.  When somebody else is paying for the trip, I book a "sleeper." WONderful!

Change subject for a minute: I wish, oh, how I wish, that in the days when I left HOI the railroads hired women to work the trains! I would have jumped at the chance!

Rail is still "the only way to fly!" IMNSHO 

I'm glad that you are better.  I know about the ethnic thang.  Certain ethnic groups are a pain in the rear.  They do get mad when I say something about the overgrowth of granny's family.  :-)  I ran into one security guard in the waiting room at the Dr., she made a comment about the lack of chairs, so I told her to say something.  She did.  She said that due to overcrowding and the lack of seats for our elderly, only 1 person per patient and for the rest of the family to leave immediately.


They didn't like it but they left.  When I was scheduled for surgery a whole tribe took up every seat in the waiting room.  My mother asked me, did you leave your gun at home, I said, which one?  She said your Desert Eagle.  I said it is in the middle compartment in my purse, when my mother pulled the gun out, that waiting room was empty.


My mother was good in clearing a room.


Oooooh.  I love that story!  Wish I'd seen it!

After my parathyroid surgery, I was purple/bruised-looking from my chin down to my tits...I looked like an extra from a horror movie.  As soon as they let me get out of bed, I put on a v-neck T-shirt (difficult with an IV in my arm, but I managed), and the matching sweat pants, and took my IV stand for a stroll through the waiting rooms and the coridors at least once a day.  Cleared out some of the squeamish, but not all.

Heh!  I've always enjoyed grossing people out.  I figure that if they can't take it, they need to grow up.  Life is not always sanitary and pretty.  (I enjoy meeting with some of my high school classmates who actually became RNs...the stories they have to tell are fascinating and funny.)




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