#listen even the state of the union requires one guy to go hang out alone in a bunker

[raspberryzingaaa]

Listen I love "I am no man" as much as the next lady who was once a barefoot girl who ran around with a sword. But it irks me Every Time that she sneaks off to battle because Theoden and Eomer a) genuinely want to keep her from experiencing this Horror and b) maam you are third in line to the throne imagine if all three of you died. Do you have no love of country and land???

#listen even the state of the union requires one guy to go hang out alone in a bunker #eowyn was the last line of defense!! #and also. she hasnt HAD to fight in war before! its BAD! Eomer obviously hates it! #im an older sister. if i had experienced the horrors and knew what i was going into. i would not have my brother go as well #i would not wish it on him #iirc its less girlbossy in the book. but in the movie i just want to smack her upside the head #girl they dont want you to fight bc you are GOOD at what you do and they need someone they love and trust to make it thru #and if they both die they will be able to rest easy knowing the land they died for was in capable and loved hands #keep in mind as well that tolkien WAS in war. #rip to her but if i was the kings neice id take the responsibility that was falling upon my shoulders and know that i wasnt trained #and KEEP THE PEOPLE!!!! Maam who do you think is gping to lead your people????? #lotr #nia post #and yeah i love her role in the battle #but her lack of responsibility to her people and her position always bugs me

[weirdestbooks]

Secret States Chapter 4

I Think America Broke A Few Countries

Australia POV

"Holy shit" I muttered under my breath as America left the room. America has kids. I'm an Uncle. But why didn't he he tell me? It sounds like nobody knew except America's kids. But why keep it a secret? I remember Mexico's angry and heartbroken face when she found out her son was alive. And America knew. Along with 5 other people. Why didn't they tell her?

I looked over at Liberia to see him talking to Marshall Islands, Palau, Micronesia and NATO. His siblings, My nieces/nephews. Holy shit. All the other countries and organizations seemed to be in the same mental shock as me. Maybe that's why America left. This is a lot to process. But why didn't he tell anyone?

"If you guys want to ask questions, you can." Micronesia said, rubbing the back of his neck the same way America, and Texas, my nephew, had. Was this some sort of family trait America's kids, my nieces/nephews, had. I tried to ask my questions, but i just ended up sputtering out words.

"Texas." Mexico said, "Do you know why America never told me about Texas?"

"The Mexican-American War started very soon after Texas was annexed, so they held off telling you then, mainly because Texas didn't want to talk to you. Then there was that whole thing in the 1860s and the southern states put more effort into fixing their  relationship with Chedam (Dad) and the northern states, then there was the Spanish-American War and after WW2, Chedam refused to tell anyone about our siblings out of fear of what the Soviet Union, or other enemy countries would do." Palau explained.

What happened in the 1860s that required half the state to fix their relationship with Ame? I thought, I wasn't the only one however, because Japan asked the same question.

"What happened in the 1860s?" America's kids all began looking uncomfortable and nervous, shifting their feet around and refusing to make eye contact. Liberia cleared his throat and shifted nervously.

"We, we really don't talk about that. It...It's just...not something anyone's whose been part of the Union likes remembering. Please don't bring it up." Liberia said. Why didn't they want to tell us what happened. Did something horrible happen? What's makes them so nervous that none of America's sixty-two kids (oh god I'm an Uncle, America has kids) would want to talk about it.

And Liberia called America the Union, America was a Union, he had kids, I'm an Uncle.

"The Union?" I heard EU ask. NATO nodded.

"Like Texas and Dad said, America's a union. One of his nicknames...names? Anyway, one of them is the Union. Dad getting new states is referred to as 'states entering the Union' and I know Dad is called the Union in his Constitution because Massachusetts won't shut up about the Constitution and Revolution and everything like that." NATO commented.

NATO was my nephew. The North Atlantic Treaty Organization was my nephew. I see him at work almost everyday and I didn't know. Why America? Why didn't you tell us? I wanted to ask that questions so badly, but I was afraid of the answer. Did America not like me or trust me? Did he actually never fix his relationship with Dad and was just pretending to so their alliance would go better.

"Why didn't Ame tell us?" Canada asked. "Why didn't he tell his family?"

Cuba stood up after Canada said that.

Oh great. I thought I knew Ame's enemies were being to quiet. What's he got to say now?

"I think the Burning of Washington made him a bit more unwilling to tell you." Cuba said. What? Why would Cuba know anything about what America's states were like? Did America tell him? But, America's not friends with Cuba, so he couldn't have known, right? Oh god did I mess up my relationship with America so much that he trusted Cuba over me. Am I a horrible brother?

"And how would you know. You don't like America Cuba." North Korea said. "There's no way America told his enemy about his children. He knows we would use it against him."

"Oh no, Cuba knows." Liberia said, "So does Philippines."

Cuba did know? Oh god, how'd I mess up my relationship with America so badly that he told Cuba and not me. And Philippines knew? I knew Ame was closer to Philippines than he was Cuba, but how could he tell them and not me? Did Dad know, did Mom know, did my brothers know and they just didn't tell me? Did America just not trust me? I failed America then. He should've been able to talk to me, to trust me. New Zealand saw me panicking and reached over to hug me.

"Why...Why would Ame tell Cuba, a country he's not on great terms with, instead of telling, me, or our brothers or Mom or Dad?" I asked, finally sputtering out the question I so desperately wanted an answer for. Why America? How did we lose your trust?

"Because I used to live with America. Even though the Spanish-American War was supposed to give me independence, I didn't technically get independence until 1902. The four years between 1898 and 1902 I lived with America. He's not my dad though." Cuba explained. So America didn't tell him, when they were enemies. I let of a sigh of relief and tears pricked out of my eyes. I wanted to trust my brother, I loved him, but he didn't trust me. Not after we worked together to liberate the Pacific during WW2, not after I let myself become an American corporation (I'm not making that up, by the way. Australia is a US corporation for some weird reason.). I wanted America to trust me, but he didn't.

I failed as a brother.

——————————————————————

France POV

America, mon fils, you could of told me. I know I am not your biological mother, but I would of wanted to know. Did America not trust me, he called me Mom, but was that just fake. He kept so many secrets. Was he taking care of his children okay? Sixty-two is a lot. Was he ignoring his own health to care for them.

Australia seemed to be on the verge of tears. He was obviously heartbroken by the news that America refused to trust us with. New Zealand had a similar look, but did not seem to be about to cry. He was focused on hugging Australia, giving him some form of comfort.

Canada looked furious with himself because of what Cuba mentioned, the Burning of Washington. I wasn't sure what's that was, but both Canada and Britain recognized it. Maybe it was an event that happened during the American Revolution. Britain, on the other hand, looked understanding, as if he accepted that America never told him. Although, considering their history, Britain probably didn't have much hopes from America's trust.

Ireland looked shocked and happy. Ireland and America were close and referred to themselves and Scotland as the 'Rebellious Trio.' He didn't know, he looked just as surprised as the rest of us when Texas barged in, but he doesn't seem to hurt by it. Maybe I'm overthinking this, but no one has given us a clear answer on why America didn't tell us, although maybe that's just because its a question for America, not for his kids.

"Liberia, how difficult is it for mon fils to take care of you? He still remembers to take care of himself as well, oui?" I asked, wanting to make sure that mon fils wasn't hurting himself by trying to take on this burden alone.

"He is excellent at taking care of us, making sure to keep us alive, which trust me is a lot harder than it sounds. Even if Dad isn't home, the Thirteen, Vermont and DC watch over everyone and keeps major emergencies from breaking out." Liberia began to answer, before being cut off by Britain and Canada.

"Vermont?"

"Thirteen? Were America and Thirteen Colonies different people?"

Liberia and Palau laughed. Micronesia and NATO put their heads in their hands. Marshall Islands and Cuba rolled their eyes.

"The Thirteen are what the original states have been nicknamed. Baba and the Thirteen Colonies are the same person. It's just easier to say that than Delaware, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, New Jersey, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Maryland, and so on." Marshall Islands explained. That makes sense. I wonder if there are any other nicknames for large groups of states?

"What about Vermont? Is he the same person that was the Vermont Republic? He was mon ami (My friend)." Canada asked. I remember Canada telling me about him. Vermont Republic and Canada were very good friends, they both enjoyed making maple syrup and hanging out together. Canada talked about how upset he was when the Vermont Republic became a part of America. How many of America's kids are countries that everyone thought were dead.

How many people did America let others mourn, and refuse to tell them that their loved ones were alive? How many and why?

"Yes, he is. Most responsible out of all of the former countries that became states. Vermont can get the others to listen if he needs to, which is great because Cali and Tex never help even though they were former countries and should know how to be responsible. Hawaii does do a good job of getting us islands to play nice with everyone else." Micronesia explained.

"And to finish off your question, France," NATO began to explain, but being called France by him hurt. I was his grand-mère and he called me by my name. Maybe it's because we aren't close as grand-mère and petit fils (grandson), but it hurt, a lot.

"Dad does do a pretty good job at taking care of himself, aside for one thing. He never remembers to sleep. He gets home, hangs out with all the kids and then we eat dinner, hang out afterward, you know the drill. After everyone goes to bed, which is like 11pm, then he works on his paperwork. He gets so much of it that he normally does it till 3am, but that's if he's lucky. If there's some emergency in his country, like now, he gets it done at 5am. By then it's already to late to fall asleep. He also has insomnia, so even when he does get the chance to sleep, he normally can't." NATO finished explaining.

I put my hand over my mouth. Oh mon pauvre fils (my poor son), working himself to death to care for his children. If only he had told me sooner. I would of marched over and made sure mon fils slept. It's a very horrible habit that I need to help him fix.

"America doesn't sleep?" Germany asked. Germany was a well known workaholic, and due to that, he didn't sleep. This went on until he collapsed twice from exhaustion, he realized not sleeping was bad and he finally managed to get back a regular sleep schedule. If anyone knows how horrible that kind of schedule is for you, it's Germany.

"He does." Palau said, rolling her eyes, "And he last slept yesterday night, so he's not going to collapse anytime soon."

Thank goodness, although hopefully with the reveal of his states, we can get a healthier sleep schedule for America going. We could also see if their is a way we could cut back on his paperwork. Four hours of paperwork is ridiculous. I only get an hour myself. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that America's a union, or his children, but I will not allow mon fils to overwork himself like this.

Germany still looked concerned for America, but didn't ask other question. He seemed to be in deep though, poring over the information we had learned.

"Oh shit." Liberia then muttered.

"Everything good?" Marshall Islands asked. Liberia turned his phone towards him, were you could see it vibrating will a call.

"D's calling me. I'm fucking dead."

———————————————————————-

New Zealand POV

I had been told a lot about America before I met him. Dad would go on angry and hurt rants about how America was a traitor that didn't care about family. Canada told me how America was stubborn and put his people's needs above his own, even if it hurt him.

When Canada came home after the Burning of York I was furious. Canada had always talked highly of him, but he just ignores that and attacks him? When Washington burned, I wasn't upset. When Canada came back home talking about how he had fixed his relationship with America, I was skeptic. He had been betrayed and attacked and he still forgave him? I thought it was just Canada being naïve and nice.

I met America during World War 1, he just showed up with troops and weapons and walked over to Canada and said "Where's Britain? I've got to prove him wrong." America never tried to hurt Canada because he was Canada. He was being hurt by Dad and lashed out at Canada as a result. America did everything he could to protect Canada during that war. Thats when I finally realized America wasn't a traitor, he was just hurting. So I decided to do everything I could to get America to fix his relationships with the rest of the family.

By the end of World War 1, I had gotten America to un disown Uncle Scotland, Uncle Ireland and Uncle Wales. And at the end of World War 2 he had un disowned Dad and Uncle England.

America's always been overprotective of people he's cared about. So the fact that he kept his states secret wasn't a surprise. He has a lot of enemies who would use the states against him. The fact he kept the states secret from us, his family was surprising. Especially from Canada, who had always been America's closest confident. It hurt a lot.

But who was D and why did Liberia seem to be afraid of them.

"Should I answer?" Liberia asked.

"Aet (yes) you idiot! D's only going to get madder if you ignore it." Marshall responded. Liberia answered the phone and put in on speaker.

"LIBERIA!" a female voice roared out of the phone, causing Australia to flinch in my arms.

"Hey D. You're on speaker." He responded.

"Liberia, explain why you though it was a good idea to tell the countries about your siblings?" The voice, D, said much more calmly this time, although you could still hear a lot of anger in her voice.

"I didn't say anything. Texas did it." Liberia responded. Which is technically true, I guess, although it seems Liberia paid Texas to do it. I guess I should thank him. If it wasn't for Liberia, I wouldn't know I'm an Uncle, and I would of lived in blissful happiness not knowing my brother was hiding an enormous secret from me, from his family.

"Liberia. Everyone knows you paid him off. That's not like you. And Texas hates getting involved in politics outside the Union, so how'd you get him to do it." D questioned. Liberia smiled and opened his mouth to speak before being cut off by Côte d'Ivoire.

"Liberia, who is that?" She questioned, tilting her head to the side.

"Oh, its District of Columbia, better known as Washington DC. And D, you forgot that our brother is Illinois, the master of paying people off." Liberia answered for both women. Washington DC? America's capital had a countryhuman? If that was true, does that mean that all the capitals have one?

"Whose that Liberia?" Washington DC asked.

"It's Côte d'Ivoire." Liberia responded, "Like I said you're on speaker."

"How can the capital have a countryhuman? Does this mean our capitals have countryhumans? Is this another secret you are hiding from us?" China angrily accused.

"No. I'm a countryhuman because I'm a federal district, not the actual capital, although the capital rests in my borders and gives me my name." Washington DC explained.

"How'd you even find out already? Is Dad home?" Liberia asked DC.

"Yeah, he came home and filled the Thirteen, Vermont and I in on what happened. He talking with the adopted ones right now, asking if they want to come into tomorrows meetings to meet their bio families." DC answered. All the other countries started looking intensely and the phone in Liberia's hand. We had all seen Mexico's reunion with her son, and with the way both DC and America had worded it, Texas wasn't the only adopted state.

"That's cool. I'm guessing Alaska said no." Liberia commented. I guess Alaska must of had a bad relationship with whoever his biological parent was.

"Actually he said yes." DC responded. Liberia raised an eyebrow.

"Really. His dad neglected him and his brother was, well you know, and he still wants to meet the rest of his family. Got to give him credit Alaska's tough." Liberia said. I wonder who Alaska was. I knew he had to be one of my nephews, but I wonder who his biological family is. It seems like Liberia doesn't like them that much.

"Anyway, I have to go now, Liberia, you should probably get over here. Dad said he wants to lay out the ground rules for the states and he wants you, NATO, Palau, Marshall and Micro to know them so you can keep them from breaking them if you every see it happening." DC explained.

"Got it. Bye." Liberia said before hanging up, then, turning to us he says. "Well, we have to go. Bye"

Liberia turned around and left, followed by his siblings.

"I don't think we're doing to get anything done." UN said, waving their hand, "Meetings over for the day. You're dismissed."

Oh god what a meeting this was. And we're going to meet some of my nieces and nephews tomorrow, so I have a feeling America being a father and a union isn't going to be the biggest surprise so far.

—————————————————————————————

Canada POV

America is a union. America has kids. And according to Cuba, the Burning of Washington is the main reason why America never told me. I was confused by this answer at first. America and I had gotten over the Burnings of York and Washington. Then Liberia received a call and it all made sense.

Washington DC had a countryhuman. I set fire to a child, my niece. I burned a child to get revenge against her father.

But didn't America do the same to you. Payback is payback. A dark voice whispered in my head. Non! Don't think that way.  The Burning of Washington was a mistake. I should of never gone along with Père's plan of revenge. I should of never burned Washington. Maybe if I hadn't, America would of allowed me to be an Uncle to his kids sooner.

It's all my fault. I burned any chance of winning America's trust when I burned Washington. I wonder if Washington DC would want to meet me, even after I burned he. I don't think so. I'll she'd see me as is a monster.

But you are one. You attacked a child. America hadn't been a country for long. How old you think she was, 20, 40, 60? She would have been young. The dark voice whispered again.

"Canada, Est-ce que ça va?" (Are you okay?" I heard Maman asked. I shook my head and gave Maman a hug before I started crying. Thankfully, most of the other countries had left and it was just Maman, Père, Uncle Ireland, Australia and New Zealand.

"Maman, J'ai attaqué Washington DC et aidé mon père à le brûler. DC est un paysan, j'ai attaqué l'un des enfants américains et je l'ai brûlée. Pourquoi l'Amérique m'a-t-elle pardonné cela? Je suis un horrible frère." (I attacked Washington DC and helped father burn it down. DC is a countryhuman, I attacked one of America's kids and burned her. Why did America forgive me for that. I'm a horrible brother.) I sobbed into Maman's arms.

I had always felt so guilty for the Burning of Washington, especially seeing how panicked and hurt America was, but now I learned that I had hurt, burned a child and America still somehow forgave me and tried to fix our relationship. I always thought we were so close, but now, after learning about America's kids, I don't think so.

But he was right in keeping them a secret from me. I'm just going to end up hurting them again. I hurt DC during the Burning of Washington, but how many other kids did I hurt? How many of my nieces and nephews did I hurt during the War of 1812?

"Mon fils, Tu n'as pas un horrible frère. L'Amérique vous a pardonné parce que c'est une personne gentille." (You are not a horrible brother. America forgave you because he is a kind person.) Maman said. I nodded sadly. I knew Maman was probably right, but that didn't stop my guilt.

I was Canada. Everyone called me the world's nicest country, but I attacked a child. If I was America, I would of never told me about my kids. I wouldn't of forgiven me either. How could America? How can he forgive people the way he does?

"Are you okay Canada?" Uncle Ireland asked. I nodded.

"I just feel so guilty. I burned down Washington DC and there is a countryhuman for DC, so I attacked America's child. And she was vey young when that happened. So I just don't understand why America forgave me for the Burning of Washington." I confessed, wiping away tears.

"You're not the only one who burned down Washington, Canada. I'm just as guilty as you are. But America didn't tell anyone, even people he knew and trusted, but hadn't wronged him in the past. I don't think his secrecy is based around past wrongs." Père said. I nodded, unsure of what to say. If America's secrecy isn't based around past wrongs. Than why didn't he tell us.

Why didn't we know?

————————————————————————————

United Kingdom's POV

History will show you that America and I have always butted heads and had conflicting viewpoints. After his Revolution, he wanted nothing to do with me, and I was so hurt by him declaring independence, what I thought of as a betrayal. I was so stubborn about showing him that he couldn't take care of himself, that he was a child and would be best off in my care.

He proved me wrong. I'm glad he did. America was 169 when he declared independence. He was not a child, far from it and I shouldn't have babied him the way I did. The War of 1812 happened after I foolishly decided to kidnap American sailors into my navy to fuel my war against France, and to get back at America for the Revolution.

That was a horrible mistake. America, unable to turn his fury and anger on me, turned it on his brother, on Canada. Then everything between America and Canada went downhill with the ruins of two burning cities, of two capitals, one burned in foolishness and the other in revenge. It's my fault, not Canada's that Washington and York burned. And its my fault that Canada is here, crying about a mistake he had that was the result of an even bigger one of mine.

"Ireland, we should probably go and inform our brothers of this. America did ask us to bring them to tomorrow's meeting." I said to Ireland. He nodded. France looked up from were she was comforting Canada and nodded.

"Go ahead and do that. I'll meet back at home." She said. I nodded before walking out of the room within Ireland.

"America has kids is not what I expected to learn today. And sixty-two? Why do you think he never told anyone?" Ireland asked. There's the question everyone's been asking, but hasn't gotten an answer to. I don't think I know why he didn't tell France or Canada, but I know why he didn't tell me.

After all, we have a history of bad blood. If my children were secret, I wouldn't share their existence with former enemies, even if they have proven themselves to be loyal. I wouldn't risk it.

"True be told, I haven't the faintest idea why he didn't tell anyone. I do know why he didn't tell me. After the Revolution and the War of 1812, I hurt him and probably some of his children as well. I think he wanted to tell someone, but the states didn't want him to. Either that or he was trying to protect them." I explained.

"You need to stop blaming yourself for everything that happening involving America's Revolution. You weren't the only person who was hurt. America disowned us, said he hated us and then tried to kill you and England." Ireland pointed out.

"True." I replied. We got to our car and Ireland got into the drivers seat.

"I can drive Ireland, its not a problem." I said.

"You need to think things over. I'll drive." He responded. Knowing that arguing would go nowhere, I nodded and got into the passenger side. Ireland pulled the car out and began thinking over the reveal of America states and other children. Texas looked the same as the last time I saw him and I wondered if any old territories were still around.

I remember Spanish Florida became British East Florida when he was under my possession, along with a new countryhuman that appeared for British West Florida. I gave them back to Spanish Empire after the Revolution, and I always wondered which one remained as the countryhuman for Spanish Florida. Then Spanish Empire sold Florida to America, which means one of the Florida's is alive and America's adopted kid.

"We're here. This is going to be some very awkward second hand news to bring." Ireland commented. I nodded. We walked up the front to the house before entering.

"Hey guys." Wales said from the couch where he was reading a book.

"Hello Wales. Do you know where Scotland, England and North are? Something...new was revealed during today's meeting and we'd prefer to tell you all at once." I asked. Wales nodded.

"They're outside. I can go get them." He said.

"If you don't mind." Wales got up and stretched.

"Not at all." He said before walking outside to get the rest of our brothers. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. This was going to be very hard to explain. A few moments passed before Wales came back.

"Hello Ireland, Britain. Wales said something happened during the meeting?" England asked as he came in.

"Yes. Do you remember Texas?" I asked. Scotland, England and Wales nodded while Northern Ireland sighed.

"This is something that happened before I was born, isn't it." He said in a resigned tone.

"Yes it is, sorry, anyway Texas was a country that broke away from Mexico and became his own nation for nine years before letting himself be annexed into America." Ireland explained.

"Well what does that have to do with what happened today? Texas is dead." Scotland said.

"Texas is not dead he walked into today's meeting." I responded.

"WHAT?"

"Yeah. Mexico got real teary before she remembered Texas was annexed into America and started yelled at him for not telling her that her son was alive. When UN asked how Texas was still alive, he told everyone that America was a union and when he took off his sunglasses, he had black eyes." Ireland explained. My brothers wore the same shock expressions that every at the meeting had when they found out.

"And because he's a union, his states, territories and his capital, which he called a federal district, all have countryhumans. NATO, Liberia, Marshall Island, Micronesia and Palau all said that America was their father alongside being the father of the states." I finished.

"America's a union and a dad?" England asked.

"Yes. He left before we could question him further, but it seems the only people outside of his children who knew were Cuba and Philippines, because both of the had been part of America before. He wants you guys to come into the meeting tomorrow, because he says he's bringing in all of his adopted kids."

"I'm coming." Scotland said, with nods of agreement from Wales, England and Northern Ireland.

America's family was going to be showing up to this reunion. I only hope this doesn't go badly. I'm worried about America's enemies getting back at him by using the states.

#secret states by weird #weird’s wattpad stories #countryhumans #statehumans #writing

[twes2000]

Jobs and employment

Question : If a employer gets rude with your information what can you do about it.?  Well there few thing i take you saying there taking as many application and not provideing work even thou your qualified.

extreme or work case selling you information.  call UN or Anohter country and report them explain you situation this county not active in it’s legal actability let work habits.

Bad habit of work case abuse ? contact FBI and CIA or contact and send in reports like employee’s are subpost to do with filling out employer Credit request slip and you can file any complaints with credit bureau employer relations group non union. employer services. governor or represenative or congress or senate and complain.  in Which you can contact other states if abuse gets bad. As well as internet abuse or foriegn immigration abuse cause thats were most of it has come from cause of lack of money and being away from there county.  Sadly there no excuse for this type of action and you can go to college to better yourself but the country is Waring on constant basis with private jobs. So it’s going to happen. restrict person access to public files with proof of the insident and credit rating. If the Business itself then credit report them with work voucher credit applications which were you can complain about employer but if your going to complain like a child then don’t bother. If its non sense,  “ Job Notice to companys requireing a job credit reference check law doesn’t require it “. For regular employment application or on inventory control  or non money handling position. Ilegal for them to files and can go against credit reports  for company and point rating by every 5 submission minus 1/2 point. As currently there been a few thousand a mouth in submission and false fileing on employer and employee sides and they can cancel for a person and company the right to work if there not going to listen to law and rules.

Take down names and employers and managers but dont cry over every instance employer you get trouble for you, just them out  of no were acting up, been out there and i No and they don’t act to muchdoesnt to much act up much so if  your not going to do whats needed then keep on facebook.com

it is illegal for employer if your work for government to tell a person thats they don’t want to hire you because you work or have worked for governement.

color is not accept able let alone speech for reason not to fire a person even if they speak perfect english. baseing talking on color is discrimination like person can’t say this and that word.

Discrimination is legal only on legal levels for certain type of employer and employee’s within titiled job of government and regular employment.

Jobs and work and companys’ aren’t personal property and can not be managed by personal views.

employers are responsible as much as employee on foreign levels were abuse ocurs on job and at home. Told ya don’t take your bad habits to work even if the jobs located in different place and heard of abuse on another employee at another job or job is making person personal life living hell at home.

Cops are subject to pass incarcerations for the fact of them being real like criminal. video’s don’t make or edit current problems cause you need to oust an employee, report them have them removed by sheriff under peaceful resolution which is a law and rule. Rules that existed before just out of site to make it easier to learn.

Proper education means HR and General manager not only looks at employee’s they look at there own tactic’s but they look at employer employee 2 hand services like union.

graduates know the benefit of graduateing but under study graduates don’t thats why some seek jobs at high pay take risk and others well take low pay and learn without college which makes you older employee look good or there not all that of well experienced. Notes are nice but see if you can ask for few examples before you leave.

Work experience won’t see understudy as threat but easy writeup so with that said there the two things to see if there combative about. As well as putting a five year in with a new understudy so option are endless what could happen but if one putting in work and some and other takeing it easy and leaning off the other new one’s thats the one thats out the door go to job you speed and knowledge.

Quote : biggest lession United states Army learned of veterans is what it felt to be arrested in handcuffs “ IMF”

Quote : “The guy that got shot at the store didn’t live a perfect life and the undercover wanna be learned piss off to many people from doing there job and the same shit on tv you can happen to you.

Quote: If you think you need a manager and you say no and person says yes remember there specialist handle problems like yours “ hitman” stop the pain.” Russian version 2011.”

“quote” most people that do hits are in church or hang out on nintendo. “ hitmain USA version”

There your sins.

#employee #customer #worker #workers

[masonbellamy]

Wedding Day | Keely & Mason

Mason’s mothers took turns fussing over him as he stood in front of a mirror where his reflection was almost entirely blocked. His mom, Michelle, was straightening his bow tie while his mama, Lisa, was pinning his boutonniere in place. The layers to his tuxedo were making him a little warm--or at least it was what he tried telling himself as he was prepped and complimented by his parents. When he was certain that they had done more than enough he finally placed a hand on theirs to stop them and cast a gentle smile, “Thank you both. I don’t think I could be any more ready though so if you wanna head out and get your seats, I won’t be far behind you.” His mothers seemed to get the hint and after giving him a careful hug so not to smudge makeup on his tux, the two of them took their leave from the small room and gave their son a moment alone. For the first time since getting dressed for the occasion, Mason looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was slicked back and his usual facial stubble was professionally trimmed down hours before. Much to his surprise, he wasn’t as nervous about the day as he thought he might be. There was even a part of him that felt he and Keely would be alright despite having just a little over a month to get to this point. After a deep breath and a small tug at the hem of his tux jacket, Mason headed out of the Sunday school room-turned-groom’s men room and made his way to the church’s sanctuary. The double doors were propped open and their many guests--family and friends of theirs--were seated inside. The coordinator was standing nearby to cue the bridal party on when to start down the aisle runner, and after confirming that they were ready to start, she gave Mason the go-ahead nod and he listened, making confident strides to the altar to wait beside their officiant.

If you had asked Keely a year ago if she had ever thought she would be getting married within the year, she would have thrown whatever book she was reading at you. The idea of marriage was just something she read about in books, content to never get her dream wedding, mostly in part because it was so intricate and would cost her family quite a bit of money. She had had only one serious boyfriend, never really finding the need for a significant other when she was in a relationship with her books. But all that had changed eight short weeks ago. Now here she stood, in a beautiful gown, her face made up and her hair actually brushed, just mere minutes away from marrying a man that had been arranged for her by the government. The only silver lining to this is that she and Mason actually got along, and if she was being truthful, she had certainly developed feelings for him in the short amount of time they’d been hanging out and planning their wedding. Her mom could tell she was nervous given that she was pacing back and forth, burning a hole in the floor. “Relax, Keel. Its going to be fine, my love. Mason is a great guy. You really lucked out.” She looked over at her mom and smiled, resting her head in her hands. “I’m so glad you guys are here. There is no way I would have been able to do this without you.” Keely said, biting her lip. She could hear the faint sound of their wedding song beginning to play and she sighed, looking over at her father. She gave him a loving smile and nodded, linking her arm through his. “Lets go give me away.” She chuckled, walking out the double doors, her breath catching as the entire church turned to look at her. Too late to turn and run now. She thought, her eyes locking onto Mason’s as she waited for her turn to walk down the aisle.

The music filling the sanctuary was a momentary distraction for Mason as he stood at the altar, catching the gazes of various guests. He was aware of the photographs being taken and the videographer recording the ceremony, but media hadn’t rattled his nerves. The small wedding party made their way up the aisle in gradual intervals but it wasn’t until his uncle and best man gently clapped a hand on his shoulder that Mason jerked his head and fixed his eyes on the back of the grand room. Guests were beginning to rise from the pews and turn to greet the bride. Upon seeing Keely, the once absent nervousness seemed to flutter up his core. In that moment, he was mesmerized and awed by her. Sure, the means by which they arrived at this point was far from ideal but in the weeks that they had become acquainted and prepared for the wedding, Mason had been charmed by his future wife and hopeful for their happiness together. He cast a closed-mouthed smile and kept his hands held in front of himself, holding one over the other at the cuff while he watched her approach.

Keelycould feel everyone’s eyes boring into her as she walked slowly down the aisle. There were whispers of Oh my gosh, she’s so beautiful and a few scoffs from who she guessed were fans of Mason’s. But she tuned all of that out, her focus only on Mason as she stepped closer and closer to her fate. This is it, Keel. Your big day. Sure it wasn’t everything you wanted, She thought, her eyes darting around the church before finally locking back on to Mason’s, a genuine smile on her face. But its close enough. As the final notes of the song died down, she turned to face her father and he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “Who gives this woman away?” The pastor asked and Howard turned to look at Mason, as if to issue an unspoken threat. “I do.” He stated, giving her hands a squeeze before taking his seat next to her aunt. She smiled up at her soon to be husband and took his hand, her other one handing her bouquet to her mother. She walked up the steps to stand in front of everyone, her family, their friends, and told herself that she could be happy with him. She knew she would.

The music came to a slow fade once Keely reached him, the priest and their bridal party. Mason’s lips parted just slightly in a tiny grin but soon closed his lips and kept his smile soft as the officiant began the ceremony. He watched Keely’s father give her away and briefly made eye contact with Mr. Harper. Giving him a small, comprehensive nod in response, Mason’s eyes then locked back onto Keely. Although they were still getting to know each other, Mason knew that the law didn’t require parents to accept or give away their children at their wedding; he respected the support Keely was receiving from her parents and even more than that, he had come to care--rather effortlessly--that his soon-to-be wife be as happy as possible today. He extended his hand to her as Mr. Harper took his seat, and held onto it for the start of the ceremony. The officiant then addressed their guests with the usual, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God to unite Keely and Mason in holy matrimony. If anyone objects to their union, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” For that brief moment, the only sounds to be heard were the mild creaking of wood from the pews and the soft clicking of camera shutters going off. The officiant then went on to iterate general obligations and expectations that tended to come with marriage--support, trust, communication, and so-on, before bringing them to their vows and exchanging of their wedding rings. When asked for the rings by the pastor, Mason looked back to his uncle, who had been responsible for both bands and handed them to the pastor. The elder man held his hand open for Mason to take Keely’s ring, and then instructed the young singer to repeat after him. Mason was attentive and mostly calm as he stated, “I, Mason, take you, Keely to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forward; to honor and cherish in sickness and in health, to love and respect until death do us part.” With his vows spoken, Mason carefully placed the band above the engagement ring on Keely’s appropriate finger.

Keelyknew that technically since the marriage was arranged, her dad didn’t have to be the traditionalist and give her away but that had been something he’d wanted to do, almost as his way of saying that he approved but also so he could give Mason the talk that he gave to every boy Keely dated. The ‘she’s my only daughter and my world. If you hurt her, they’ll never find your body’ speech. Keely couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped when she saw the look her dad gave Mason and she shook her head, looking over at him and crinkling her nose. With her second book complete and on her dad’s desk, she had finally had time to sit and think about everything that would now be required of her once she said her I do’s. She would be expected to start a family within the year and while the topic of divorce had not been discussed, she wondered if perhaps Mason would want to get this whole thing annulled once he went back on tour. It was hard to sell tickets to screaming fans and keep up appearances when you had a ring on your finger. Not to mention that she could potentially be a subject for his fan’s wrath. She shook her head, needing to clear her thoughts and took Mason’s hands, all those bad ideas she had swimming in her head had disappeared, at least for the time being. When it came time for her to say their vows, she took his hand, hoping that Henna couldn’t see how much she was shaking. “I, Keely, take you, Mason to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forward; to honor and cherish in sickness and in health, to love and respect until death do us part.” She let out a breath of relief as she placed the ring on Mason’s finger, a small smile crossing her face as she linked their fingers together. “Keely and Mason, friends and family here in attendance, by the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The pastor said, turning his head to look at the two of them. “You may now kiss the bride.”

That nose-crinkling smile was something Mason had quickly come to adore about Keely, from the moment they first met for lunch. It always seemed to be contagious enough to make him smile back. He felt a bit of the tremors in her hand as he slid the thin, rose gold band on her finger to join her engagement ring. Once it was secure on her finger, he gave her hand a gentle, assuring squeeze and kept a steady gaze on her, attempting to silently communicate to her that they were in this together--that he understood that none of this was easy and he wouldn’t leave her hanging out to dry. He only let her hand go long enough for her to place his band on his finger and after feeling the weight of it in place, he resumed holding her hand and gave her a sweet smile. His self doubt attempted to creep up on him but to quell it, he repeated the pastor’s words back to himself in his mind and kept his eyes on Keely. No matter what he was previously told, he was here and now, he was someone’s husband. Over the past several weeks, little by little the thought of “It could have been worse” was being chiseled away by “Thank goodness it is her”. And when they were announced to their gathered guests as husband and wife, Mason knew that Henna would be capturing what was to come next; he decided to make it memorable. With capable hands and strong arms, Mason gently tugged at Keely’s hands to draw her near as he stepped to her. He bowed hand tilted his head to meet her lips and as he did, those same, sturdy arms came around her back--one low and one high.In a near-effortless turn of their bodies, the singer dipped Keely, earning them claps, whoops and cheers throughout the sanctuary. He was careful in standing her upright again once the kiss ended, and a few seconds later, the officiant introduced them for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Bellamy.

Keely couldn’t believe that the wedding they had thrown together in just 6 short weeks was almost over. She was almost married to an amazing man and even though she’d been opposed at first, she was incredibly happy. She felt like she had lucked out because it was clear that they got along well, they were able to compromise and she hoped that one day, they could maybe even love one another. She had certainly developed a crush and the idea of this marriage not working out in the long run wasn’t something she wanted to think about. Looking at the beautiful ring on her finger, she beamed, her face finally showing the emotion she’d bottled up for the sake of others. Their eyes met and she could feel all the thoughts that they couldn’t say yet coming through. She knew he took commitment seriously and while a modicum of self doubt lingered in her mind, she felt as though they were going to make it through all this, they would stick by one another through the good and the bad. And it could get bad. There would be fights, arguments, long nights at home alone, but she felt as if they would always make it through. When the pastor finally announced they were husband and wife, she felt her heart start beating wildly. This was so silly, it was just a kiss. It was just for show, to appease the government. When she was pulled closer, she focused back on Mason, biting her lip as he leaned in. She closed her eyes and waited, a gentle brush of his lips, his hands on her back… and then she was falling. Her eyes closed tighter and her mouth opened slightly, her breath catching in her throat. She was still kissing her husband, she was safe in his arms and she relaxed a little, trusting that he wouldn’t drop her. When he broke the kiss, and they were safely standing upright, she slapped him lightly on the arm, a laugh escaping her. “Jerk.” She whispered, shaking her head as she grabbed his hand to hold.

As soon as they were announced as Mr. and Mrs. to their guests, Mason smiled and then cast a toothy grin, forgetting for just a moment that they had to do this. It was easy to do when everyone seemed genuine enthused about them being married by show of applause. The thought passed almost as quickly as it came thanks to the swat on his arm by his new wife. He threw his head back laughing and then leaned in to chuckle near her ear, “You liked it.” Still keenly aware of the filming and photos taking place, Mason listened for the music to start again, cueing them to start back down the aisle again. He gave Keely’s hand another gentle squeeze in preparation to escort her back down the aisle. The wedding ceremony was over, and they now had their far less formal reception to look forward to. On their way out, he continued keeping his voice low for only Keely to tell her, “You look stunning by the way.” Parked outside for them--per Mason’s request--was a jet black and navy Rolls Royce decorated from its hood to each of the front doors with thick, champagne-colored bows and ribbon. The driver greeted them and held the door open. Mason was asked to get inside first so to be able to assist Keely with her getting in, while the driver lent her a hand from outside the vehicle. “Looks like we’ll be signing the marriage license at the reception.” The driver got in as Mason shifted in the back seat to look more directly at Keely and ask her, “Ready to go?”

Keely couldn’t believe it was finally over. All the prep work, finding the perfect dress, making sure she looked stunning so as to blow Mason’s mind, and the ceremony came and went as fast as a tornado tearing through a cornfield. Was she really married now? Had that actually happened? She was numb to the noise and the people, only vaguely aware that they were heading towards the front of the church. She kept looking down at her hand, where the beautiful engagement and wedding bands rested on her fingers and she couldn’t help but smile. It had happened, and it felt good. She knew initially it was just an arrangement that they were forced into but in those eight short weeks, Keely had learned so much and it felt good knowing that she would be in good hands. That she could trust her partner and know he would have her back. Hearing the warm breath on her ear sent a tingle up her spine and she laughed, nodding her head. “I hope it made for a good picture.” She laughed, blushing softly when he complimented her. “So do you. I mean, you look good. Can a man actually look stunning or is that simply a female compliment?” She laughed, not exactly sure why her nerves had reappeared. The hard part was over, they had already fulfilled the conditions of the law. So then why didn’t that make her feel better? When she saw the car that would take them to their reception, she smirked, shaking her head. Leave it to Mason to make a memorable exit. Keely just laughed and stepped inside, taking his hand, her eyes wide at his next statement. “Don’t you have to sign that before you get married?!” She looked around, rolling the window down and waving to everyone before nodding. “Yes! Let’s go eat cake!” She laughed, scooting closer and resting her head on Mason’s shoulder.

#para: Wedding Day #bibliophilekeely #ch: KeelyH #mlawkm #queue the music

[subtleastequila-blog]

Life’s a Garden, Dig it

I quit my job Saturday.

For the past two months, I was a life insurance salesman for a company that provided “permanent benefits” for union members: truck drivers, firefighters, auto workers, brick layers. You know, the guys with calloused hands that give a depressing sigh every time they sit down. The all-American blue collar workers, if you will.

I put “permanent benefits” in quotes because that’s what we agents, or “benefits specialists,” were taught to tell our clients what we were providing, NOT life insurance (even though we were).

Why play word games? Because the average plumber cringes when he hears insurance. You see, Joe Schmo already feels cucked by State Farm doing a rear-naked choke to his checking account for his home and auto, so the last thing he wants to hear about after a shitty day at work is how he’s going to die some day and needs to cough over more bacon for life insurance, especially from a young, slick-talking punk that hasn’t turned a wrench in his life.

The company knew this, which is exactly why the words “life insurance” are not present on the four-page script, or presentation if you will, that they require all their employees to memorize. 

Consequently, the clientele’s prejudiced distaste for the product is already enough to make the job a bitch-and-a-half, but of course, there are two other bitches I haven’t touched on yet.

For one, you are paid by commission. No salary, no hourly wage. If you don’t make a sale, you don’t have enough change for a McChicken.

Secondly, you are required to work at least 10 hours a day, every day. Even Sundays. If you do the math, we’re talking a healthy 70 hours a week, or 49 hours in which you are awake and not working.

Out of those seven days, usually two are reserved for “call days”: days in which each agent calls through a list of about 100 to 150 designated “leads” –– sheets listing a union member’s name, address, phone number and union –– for eight hours with a quick, 10-minute break at the end of each hour. 

Just enough for a piss and a chat.

Now these leads consist of union members that had requested a small, free accidental death insurance policy (usually between $2,000 and $4,000) by filling out a 3x5 reply card that they had received in the mail. Many of these cards had been filled out years ago, making it highly possible that pipe-fitter John Dingle from Waterford had completely forgotten about the damn thing.

What made matters worse is that new agents, received crappy, old leads, meaning that many of the members in the pack had already been contacted by another agent within the past two years and had either declined to buy the “option B benefits” after he or she got their free stuff or had been uninterested in the no-cost benefits after finding out that an agent had to “drop them off” at their home to receive them. 

As you can imagine, most of these calls are ignored. Many that are received end up in hang-ups or an insistence in disinterest. Every once in a while you’ll get a guy who’ll drop a string of fucks, and rarely will you get an appointment set.

To be specific, you’re lucky to get 10 appointments set after 150 calls. 

After a call day, I’d usually get home from the office at about 10:30 p.m., exhausted and demotivated enough to make Eor sound like Tony Robbins.

In less than 12 hours, I would be out in the “field,” handing out some no-cost benefits and trying to persuade them into buying their permanent option B benefits (life insurance) as the script would say.

I didn’t count, but more than half of the appointments I set would no-show me, meaning they would either try to ignore your knock on the door thinking you would assume no one is home even though there were two cars sitting in the driveway, or they simply were gone and had completely forgotten about the appointment (even though I told them on the phone to write down when I’d be there).

It's bad enough that I must use my own gas and drive 25 minutes to your home just so you can give me piss-poor attitude while not making enough change to fall through a car seat. At least respect my time enough to be present at your own home and say no to my face.

However, even if every member committed to their appointment, this job would still be akin to putting bamboo under your fingernails, which is why 70 percent of a manager’s job is to motivate his agents, sometimes in the most annoying ways possible. For example, they required us to post messages at least once every 30 minutes on our Group Me –– a messaging board app –– log jamming it with motivational quotes, corny pictures, annoying GIFs and encouragement. Usually, this was done after someone had posted they had made a sale, added an appointment to their schedule, collected a referral, or were door knocking a member’s home.

Since roughly 11 agents comprised the Group Me board, the notifications were non-stop for the entire day you were in your car or in a home. Each minute I would hear my phone buzz, only receive a picture of a Lion leaping out of a pond with the words “rise and grind” placed in the lower-third.

Ah yes. Truly inspirational. Nothing fills my balls with testosterone more than a Lion leaping for a salmon.

No surprise, it didn’t take long to realize this gig wasn’t my cup of Joe. This past week was my first week alone in the field, and I quite Saturday at around 4 p.m. Now, my trial and error period with the company could have been completely avoided if the hiring superiors would have told me the hours, day-to-day tasks and commitments the position required.. But think about it from the company’s perspective. Why would you be completely transparent to candidates about a job that takes 100 of your time and pays out only when you’re making sales?

If they told everyone the ins and outs at the jump, they’d be lucky to hire 5 percent of their candidates. Moreover, many of their promising candidates – which I’ll be cocky enough to say I was one of them – would have turned down the offer on site.

Nevertheless, life is simply a collection of experiences, and with every new experience we learn something about ourselves, whether good or bad, so I refuse to act regretful or remorseful for trying something new. I learned that selling insurance doesn’t bring me pleasure, and moreover, I don’t have the salesman gene. That lesson itself was worth the experience, but that was far from the greatest part.

The people.

The individuals I met in that company were some of the kindest, friendliest, smartest, motivated and driven ladies and gents I had ever had the pleasure speaking to, especially my managers George and Brandon. Listening and working side-by-side with some of them made me learn not only about insurance but also work ethic, discipline, business and human nature in general. Moreover, I made relationships that will hopefully continue long after.

Yet and still, even great people won’t make a great job, which is why I decided to quit. The reason for this post isn’t to bitch about a job, it’s to say that you should never be afraid to quit a job that is not for you. I don’t care if you have $50,000 in college debt and you live with your parents, if you dread waking up every Monday to go to work, you’ll never find motivation to become better at your craft.

Let me be clear. I am NOT going to be cliché and say you should only do a job you love. I don’t believe in that shit. Work is a blessing, but nobody truly loves work. If somebody tells you they love working, slap them in the face and say they’re lying. Even your dream job will give you multiple days of stress, frustration, anger and sadness. No shit. This is life. I’m simply saying that you should find something you can stand doing for the next 30 years that allows you to have balance in your life and compensates you well enough that you don’t have to worry about how you’re going to pay your mortgage.

Unfortunately, these seemingly realistic job standards are hard to come by in 2018, which is what us Millennials are slowly starting to understand and why the job-search process will be much longer and more difficult than that of the generations before us.

This is part of the reason why I say it is good to quit in certain situations. Our entire lives we’re told to never quit. Losers quit. Lazy people quit. You should feel guilt and shame if you quit. Some of those clichés do hold water, but what your mom and dad didn’t tell you is to not waste your time trying to fit a square peg in a round whole.

You all have certain God-given talents, but you also must realize you are shitty at a multitude of things and have no business doing them. I suck at thousands of things. I can’t draw a crooked line straight. I blow ass at golf.

My point?

Just as you should know what you’re good at, you should also know what you suck at, which is often found through experience and is exactly why I don’t feel any shame in knowing I suck ass at selling insurance.

Just keep trying to find your purpose. Keep trying. Take risks. Take chances. Try something new if you haven’t found your niche, just don’t stop looking for your square hole, and learn from your experiences on the way.

If you keep trying, you can’t be a quitter.

God Bless, and keep it smooth as Tennessee Whiskey.

#job #career #quitting #firstpost #college #millennials #wisdom #blog #writing #message

[darwinism00]

Chapter three

CHAPTER 3 The butterflies sneak attack Keera shuts the back door to Bob's Wings and things with a deep exhale. It seemed like everything was testing her tonight. She is use to the drunks and witty responses she has to give to every drunk quip with sarcasm and a smile. However there is only so much a person can take. She is only human after all; right? She chuckles to herself at the ironic thoughts going through her head when she reaches for her Zig and lighter. “Fuck!” she yells a little too loud as she realises she lent out her lighter to a regular only to have them not return it even after her playful threats for their life if it wasn't returned. She bangs the back of her head on the back door leaning her body up against it at the same time and looks up silently cursing the Gods for what seemed to be an entire day of picking on her. She tilts her head looking to the outside lights for the cameras outlining the building. The jurisprudence requires businesses to have one at every angle outside of their building. Even Though Chicago was a Union state anything under Jurisprudence was a law that was universal between all territories in the United States. One, two, three, she counts to herself and guesses them to be about 10 ft apart on this side of the building. She walks down the ramp where a overhead light was out and there seemed to be a shaded area in the already dim alley. Since Summer was almost here it was still barely light out. Looking around to make sure she is still alone she then cups her hands like she has a lighter and lights her zig. Breathing in the fire deep she instantly relaxes. Was it worth it? She thought. Exposing herself and her illigal ability she was born with? Definitely, she thought. If she didn't get this drag in she would've lost it and ended up torching someone for sure. She has to keep herself cool so to speak. She wraps her over sized hoodie around herself tight. Even though it was Spring and the days where warm, the nights were still crisp and cold and in the windy city, unforgiving. She closes her eyes and tries to clear her mind. The buzzing of the pods on their zip lines filled with families in them polluted the city sky. Public transportation freaks me out. Keera thought to herself. Thinking about all the different traveling ziplines they had set up from skyscraper to skyscraper. Suddenly the door swings open and Doug the douchebag sticks his oversized head out. This was the name Keera liked to call him to herself or around corners to other servers. Seeing him instantly gave her stomach a sinking lurch before he even yelled the following. “Keera we need you in here we are starting to fill up!” His round head hung in a uncanny comparison to a bulldog with a patchy five o’clock shadow outlining it. His face was red with flush from the ten whole feet it took him to get up from his tiny office to the back door. He turns, seemingly out of breath, letting the door ease shut just to waddle back to his 5ft by 5ft office and sit in his well worn in computer chair so that he can pretend to work. Keera rolls her eyes. By we he surely means everyone but him. He most likely had the tragedy of someone asking him to actually do something for once. Keera complained in her head. In which case he managed to barely walk 10 feet for her to get in there and do his job along with hers. “Fucking fat ass.” She mumbles out as she exhales the drag. She learned a long time ago that relying on him to be functional in his duties was a far cry from reality and waiting on him to do anything only cut into her nightly tips and caused her blood pressure and keep it cool gage to go through the roof so to speak. Letting out another curse as reality sinks in she throws the lit zig into its 1 inch burn container which is one of the many things mandated by Jurisprudence. Keera ties up her thick blonde colored wavy hair in a tight pony. Then she takes a quick glance in her mirror on her phone to make sure her makeup hasn't sweated into a mess like it can sometimes do and puts what she like to call her game face on. “Girl can't have five minutes in this fucking place.” She mumbles as she aggressively swings the door open, annoyed that even after eight hours she can't get any kind of a break. She walks in glaring in Doug the douchebags direction which is in the office like she had thought playing a video game on the computer. “Worthless.” She mumbles under her breath while shaking her head in disapproval. Keera pulled her jeans up over her hips, takes the commuity hoodie off and hangs it on the coat rack mounted to the wall in back and pulls her Bobs wings and things shirt down over her large breasts and tucks it back in. She sprayed some vanilla body spray on so she smelled like fresh dessert and sighed pausing for a second like a runner waiting for the gunshot at the beginning of the race. She knew when she saw a server's shirt and it read (I am a server not your servant) on the back that she wanted to work here. However, some days it just seemed like it was more trouble than it was worth. That's life though, better than being in prison, dead or a camp she thought to herself with a shrug. A fraction of a memory of Albo flashed in her mind like it always did when she thought about being taken and she quickly shoved it behind her well built wall of emotions she had made so solid over the years that she had yet to meet anyone to even shake it. Keera got ready to go from peaceful serenity to super bowl crowd type noise. It's like jumping into a pool, but that pool is noise and chaos. All your senses just get drowned all at once and it takes you a second to get into the flow. “Keera!” Amanda called with urgent eyes. Deep breath! Keera thought to herself quickly as she dived in. “I'm so glad I found you!” Amanda says while walking away towards a P.O.S. which is a computer where servers ring their orders in. Keera didn't have to ask she automatically just knew. She walks with purpose flinging her soft pony back off her shoulder letting the loud yells and bar noise fade into the background of her mind. Amanda followed closely behind. “I tried asking the Douchebag but it was like trying to wake a bear from hibernation.” “Yeah I bet it was. His penguin ass actually had to get up to tell me to come inside.” Keera laughs sarcastically because even though he is the punch line to every joke when servers complain about anything at Bob's wings and things Keera knows that it's more of a joke to put up with it and stay. But like any place if she leaves it will only screw her friends long enough for them to find another person willing to do his job for him. She punches in Doug's manager numbers and proceeds to comp 50% off of one of Amanda's table’s appetizer for their meal coming out before it did. She then scans the bar and sees 10 tickets coming out of the printer and the new bartender, Duke trying to work on 5 other drinks. Crash! A glass breaks and the crowd goes wild. Amanda leans in; or up since she is a whole 5’2 and maybe 100 lbs and says. “You better save him girl. That's the 3rd glass since you went on break 5 minutes ago.” “Fuck me! Angel said he was ok to be left alone.” Keera mumbles to herself with a focused expression on her face people often mistake for resting bitch face and starts to half jog in his direction. Amanda yells her way while printing her newly corrected tickets. “That's what she said!” Amanda gives out a warm laughter and a huge bright smile. Keera smirked but was on a mission. On her way to the bar which couldn't be more than 20 ft she was asked for three refills on tables that weren't hers, two tv changes and someone asking if they were killing chickens in the back because their food was taking forever. Her responses were as follows. “What are you drinking piss water? Scott you better be saying a cheers to me cause you know better than to ask me to get you a refill when you don't sit at my bar rail. Didn't you hear the rookie back there just break your drink? Its Coors light it belongs on the floor. Yes the white sox will be on in 15, no I will not turn it on before then and yes we have to catch them, kill em and then we try not to kill ourselves in the process do you see this crowd?” She didn't know the last guy which was more rare than not; seeing how she practically lived there and this place was a native’s hang out but she didn't care. If he can't stand the heat than he can get the hell away from her and definitely out of Chicago. Even with her attitude and curse happy vocabulary she was considered nice in the windy city and if she pissed someone off Doug was more than happy with letting her pretend to be the manager and get her ass chewed out. This Duke guy was a fumbling idiot! She thought to herself when she almost reached the bar. Keera didn't get a chance to train him since he was going to be mainly on days which were usually pretty slow and she was the main closing bartender. This was supposed to be his final training shift and he was not cutting it. They were so quick to hire a penis that they didn't stop to actually ask if he knew anything about American sports or actual bartending. This guy had a British accent, which was surprising giving his obvious Indian heritage. It annoyed the piss out of Keera. She had been listening in on his first interview from behind the bar and told Douchebag not to hire him. So of course here he is breaking her shit and clogging up the traffic of drinks that needed to be going out of this bar in the first 20 minutes of his shift. Keera turns the bar corner pretty much flying in for the rescue. The 30 by 10 foot space was her safe haven. The bottles were displayed against the brick back wall, clean and neat in the order she places them every night when she wipes them down. Whiskey on the left and vodka on the right. The speed rails were filled with the various tequilas and attached to two glass chillers that were stainless steel coolers and fit snug under the 34 taps in the middle of the bar. Behind the taps was a mirror back splash and above that was one projection screen and four big screens lining up the rest of the wall behind the bar. The other speed rails were hidden behind the bar lining the sinks and ice bin filled with the bars cordials and bottom shelf liquors. The sink was filled with ice to cool the syrups and fresh cut fruit. One was open for dumping old drinks and the dishwasher sat to the right of that. The rest of the bar had sports posters and jerseys lining every square inch of the place. If there wasn't a tv it was a shelf with a signed baseballs in dusty case or a shadow box with a signed chicago jersey. The bar top had bottle caps of local beers lined up in a fancy mural picturing a baseball bat, basketball, hockey stick and chicago logo shellacked into a smooth surface. She was almost baffled that the place didn't get robbed for the merch hanging every where alone but seeing how one of the biggest mob families in the city had a daughter working here that thought explained itself away every time it popped into Keera’s head. Keera walks behind the bar and her performance begins. She plasters a smile on her face. “Awe Rookie no one can leave the baby for five minutes hu?” Duke turns around with panic stricken eyes. His glasses were foggy from sweat, his unusually well groomed hair was tassled and his too nice of a button up shirt had bar syrups and God knows what else on it and his hands were shaking. Jesus he'd only been back here for five minutes Keera thought to herself. She almost felt sorry for him. However he was now cutting into her tips and when it came to her money above all things she didn't screw around. She walks up to what they called the watering well which was where the servers all came to either gossip or pick up their drinks. She kicks the glass under the glass chiller and grabs 4 of the five tickets, spins on her heel and faces Duke. “Listen Rookie.” He interrupts her in his crisp accent. “My name is Duke.” He then holds out his hand. Keera being distracted and irritated by not only the gobs of people yelling requests at her but the fact that this guy couldn't handle a bar for literally 5 minutes for her to get a break in was infuriating. Keera snaps at him. “I don't care what your name is I need you to make these tickets.” She raises a fist of tickets between them and with hardly a glance to his eyes shoves them at his chest. “Snap snap rookie you're hurting my rent!” “Nice to finally meet you too. I've been looking forward to it all week.” Duke mumbles, pausing for just a second. She passes him by and heads to regulars from the left side of the bar so that she can work her way to the right which should leave the rookie with plenty of room to make those drinks and serve them to the now angry mob gathering at the watering hole waiting for their guest’s drinks. Not only did Duke step on every female's toes getting hired on straight to bartender but he was the only man employed there in a staff of men hating single moms, and he sucked for lack of a better word. Keera knocked out a Killer Koolaid, top shelf long island, blue mother fucker and a caribbean martini in about 90 seconds flat which is how long it took Duke to pour three beers and bring them over. Keera turns around dodging the clumsy tall Brit to see hardly a dent made into the tickets spilling from the printer onto the bar counter now touching the floor. “Seriously?” She says loudly then reminds herself to breath and keep a cool head. She had mastered the ability of not letting her anger expose her and this is the longest she had stayed at one job because of it. Keera turns to Duke and directs him to take care of the remaining customers at the bar rail. “Move that cute ass of yours and make yourself useful!” She yells loudly trying to make light of a stressful situation and calling attention to the fact that even though he's a shitty bartender at least he's good to look at. He smiles for a second before she points at the end of the bar where a few females, both decked out in white sox apparel from head to toe were sitting. They raised their empty glasses, smiling and giggling at Duke. Keera knocked the rest of the tickets out under five minutes. “Did you ever know that you're my hero?” Lynn, a mexican waitress says in her always sarcastic voice as she snags her drink and shuffles off to her tables. Keera was like a dancer and the bar was her dance floor and when it got busy it was her performance. She glided behind that bar like a ballerina in swan lake. Regulars had come accustomed to watching her light shine when she's in her element. She gets her bar rail some refills, cleans some dishes and puts the game on in time to shut any ridiculous baseball fan up. They act as if you are murdering their baby if you don't get the game on. Keera thinks to herself as she gives a signature eye roll. White sox, cubs, cardinals. They all sucked donkey dick! She thought almost every time she worked a game night. Chicago fans are crazy about Chicago sports. She didn't want to share her tips with a barback so she scheduled this to be Duke’s first and last night of training with her. She always gave the go ahead with a new hire. He'd get paid minimum wage and she could keep her tips and he would be put to the test. So far he is failing miserably. Keera thinks briefly flashing a glance his way while she poured a row of five beers from the tap. He had worked a few shifts this week with the daytime bartender and Keeras bestie Angel and she said he was doing great but thats Angel for you. Super positive even if this kid didn't deserve it. Angel was going on vacation in a few weeks to New Vegas and when she got back she was switching to nights. Daytime was just too slow. That and Keera got to see her best friend more so even though she didn't agree with Duke being hired she kept her mouth shut. That and Douchebag didn't listen to her anyways. It would interfere with his power tripping he does when he occasionally decides to work. It would be less of a hassle if she was on her own. But that's how Keera was with everything in her life. Can't trust anyone to do anything so she did everything herself. Another comp and a void for a few servers she danced behind the bar for four hours until it finally slowed down. She was on a double and that 3 minute break was all that she got. She was starving and running on coffee and Brio fumes. Although Brio is advertised to be full of protein, vitamins and caffeine she was sure it wasn't designed to be a full supplement to the human meal plan in a 24 hour span of time. “Ok Duke I have to go eat something. I'll be gone for five minutes. Will you be ok?” She talks slowly at him as if he couldn't understand English but after babysitting him all night she didn't care. This was the first time actually talking to him instead of at him. The game was over and the place was clearing out fast. He would be in charge of cashing maybe two people out and cleaning dishes. He takes off his foggy glasses and is rubbing the sweat out of his eyebrows when he stops and looks at her with dark puppy dog eyes. Not just brown but almost black. Like the kind of black holes you want to get sucked down. “That's the first time you've said my actual name.” He looks at her almost star struck. Her stomach flutters and she looks down. Keera is not used to feeling a flutter of any kind. That part of her was dead. It was taken away a long time ago when the first and only boy she had loved was taken. She goes to say something witty or smart ass in defense of her feelings and is instead left speechless and for the first time in a long time; she blushes. “What?” She shaked her head. “Never mind.” She mumbles and turns quickly away to hide her flushed face. Keera walks quickly to the back baffled by her own emotions. “I'll be right back!” She yells back not waiting for a response leaving Duke with a goofy smile on his face looking after her. In her 24 years she had taken care of her primal needs with one night stands in cars, party bathrooms and once in the woods in the mountains. She thought of her virginity as something to get rid of, like it was something of a burden to carry. She had never knew her father and what she knew of her mother this type of behaviour was normal. It was a way for her to numb herself and build her wall of emotions up. “What’s wrong with you?” Keera looks up startled torn away from her own taunting thoughts. Amanda stood there, bright red hair shining from a fresh dye job that was cut short in a edgy wedge. She had fair freckled skin and a crooked smile and an attitude that would put any kitchen cook in his place. She was the actual living definition of a spit fire. She snaps her fingers. “Hello earth to Keera! You aren't dipping on me are you.” a playful laugh escapes her. Dipping was the slang term for Heroin addicts when they dipped into a particular stash of Heroin known to the general public as “Dirty tar.” This was named to a specific batch of heroin distributed from Afghanistan between the years 2015-2021 that was cut with a unknown substance causing mutations in the human genome. It caused nerve degeneration at an accelerated rate. The user was so full of adrenaline and pain that they would be severely aggressive and dangerous. There hasn't been any new cases of “Dirty tar” for over 20 years but the offsprings of these addicts were mutated and were the cause of the genetic war of 2020. That is what caused martial law to be instated for seven years. Amongst all the fighting the people with abilities were either shot dead or gathered up like cattle. Now; after the civil war known as the gene war that arose because most of these people with abilities were children jurisprudence was created for peace, which is a mutated version of the law itself. It causes restrictions and regulations on everything and everyone for the so called safety and preservation of the human species as a whole. It was the only thing all three territories agreed on towards the end of the war. Amanda didn't know Keera’s secret so Keera couldn't let her see how close she hit home for her by saying what she said. “No I'm good. I'm just exhausted.” Keera says this while staring blankly at the white wall with grease stains on it and laminated safety signs plastered in random spots. She clears her throat taking a huge bite of a turkey sandwich. “Yeah girl it's been a ridiculous night, let alone day! I can't believe you have already been here 12 hours. Girl you are crazy.” Amanda is separating out her credit card receipts for the night and organizing her money on the metal stainless steel countertop where she had cleared a little space between the silverware that still needed rolled and the ranch and blue cheese containers that were wrapped in plastic but not yet stored away in the walk in cooler for the night. She pauses in counting her money. “Not to mention your tall dark and dorky back there.” She chuckles and though Keera has a mouth full of food she does too. “Yeah I guess he is dorky, and clumsy.” She glances at the clock, gut clenching at the thought of leaving him behind her bar again even though it had slowed way down since the game had ended. “You guess hu?” Amanda eyed her skeptically clutching her money in both hands stopping mid count. “You got a thing for the British Hindu or something?” She thrusts her hips and then pokes Keeras side playfully letting out a loud laugh. “No!” Keera said too quickly catching Amanda's scrutinizing look. “I just can't help but feel a little, small amount of pity for him.” Keera gestures animatedly with her free hand and then continues. “ He's hopeless.” She shrugs and glances sideways wishing Amanda would stop looking at her that way and God help her she feels heat paint her face again. Not the dangerous kind but warm tingling heat that she knew was giving her away. “Oh my God!” Amanda says way too loud causing Keera to drop her last bit of sandwich and walk away. “You have a thang for him don't you!?” She still didn't hush her voice what so ever, following right behind her like a pesky fly at a Summer picnic. Keera wanted to crawl in a hole. She didn't know why but maybe she was right. “Girl I have never known you to have a thang for anyone! In the four years I've known you or ever!” She put her fingers in quotation marks rounding the corner and passing the bathrooms after Keera. The thought flashes through Keeras mind of the actual logistics of such a small person carrying such a loud voice. It just doesn't seem possible but here Amanda was louder than ever. “Well I'm not starting now. I just feel sorry for him and that's it.” Keera says in a hushed voice turning towards her friend and holding her finger to her lips to hush her. “So you like the Geek type then? No wonder you never meet anyone here!” Her voice seems to almost be getting louder as she gestures around the bar within earshot of Duke now. “You feel sorry enough to… you know?” She puts her finger in a hole she made from her index finger and thumb with her other hand. “Jesus fucking Christ Amanda get your fucking head out of the gutter!” She yells too loud while grabbing a half full glass left by a customer long gone along with most customers that were clearing out just minutes before. Without skipping a beat Amanda yells back while heading back towards the kitchen. “Yeah well that's where your head usually is at honey but now I think it's floated to the clouds.” she gestures fluttering fingers towards the ceiling while looking back and then she lets out a loud cackle. Keera had never wanted this night to end as bad as she did right then. She walks behind her bar glaring at the corner where her friend had just turned only to smack directly in a solid, firm, lean figure. Before thinking she yells. “Jesus Christ!” Her nerves where more than shot but at least she didn't drop her glass. She makes note of the height of Duke. Looking up into his dark eyes once again. He towers over her 5”7 body a good 8 inches. He has thick hair pushed back; long on the top, shaved and clean on the sides. He has a mocha skin tone with a beard that normally would do nothing for her but as her eyes move to his full soft looking lips she wonders what it would feel like to kiss them. She notices them moving but doesn't hear a word. She glances at his white tank that he was now wearing noticing his broad shoulders and defined muscles that glistened with sweat over all his tattoos that went down his arms. There was an electrical charge between them that had her holding her breath. He moves to touch her hand and she is froze. Her instinct is to always move away or be on the defense but she couldn't move. She didn't want to move. He doesn't touch her hand but instead was trying take the glass out of her hand. Before she barely let go he drops the glass yelping in the process. “Bloody Hell that glass was hot! How in Gods name did you not burn yourself?” He is stepped back shaking his hand as to shake the heat off of it. Keera looks around to just see Kenny and Richard which were the bars most faithful regulars and usually pretty well done for the night especially since the white sox won. They cheered and clapped! “Good job rookie that's glass number 7 for the night! You should get a raise.” Kenny says sarcastically and they both laugh to each other. He half smiles at them and nodes. “Yup lads it's all good. I'm ok. Thanks for asking.” Keera goes to grab his hand but before she does he steps back a little too quickly. Does he suspect something? She thinks to herself. He is Indian right? Maybe he's a Samsaptaka? Keera thinks to herself. The Samsaptaka are a group of Hindu religious nuts that are also called hunters that believe that the people with abilities are cursed with demon blood or as they call it (KALI) which is a demon that that possessed Nala and need eradicated from this world for the survival of the human species. They use some special knife to pierce the heart and they believe save the soul of the tainted, or so they call them. They use a chaaku that is blessed by their Brahmans which are their appointed priest to their cause. Keera silently kicks herself for being so prejudiced. Hes British she scolds herself. Besides they haven't been spotted in years she continued her inner dialogue just to see him staring blankly at her with a look of anticipation on his face. Just as her mind goes blank words start to fall out of her mouth. “I barely have fingerprints anymore rookie. You need to grow a pair and get use to it. No pain no gain.” She smiles and grabs the broom and hands it to him. “Here Cinderella hop to it.” Duke hesitates, squinting for a brief moment and then smiles his brilliant 1000 watt smile and starts sweeping all the broken glass in the alley way. “And put on a shirt.” She says a bit shakily, avoiding looking in his direction what so ever. Awe there it is. The face and personality she wears at work. Sarcastic, witty Keera. Nothing gets to her. She is carefree and everything rolls off her shoulder and she most certainly does not get all girly, shy and giggly over a guy. She feels comfortable and safe now. Keera feels in control.