Complaint Dept.
From the “true story” files, via Austin, Texas.
I’ve been “in residence” as regular (every other) Tuesday practitioner at the rock shop in Austin, for over six years. Regular, standing gig.
There’s a particular affection I hold for most of the counter help there, first off, as they all tend to be young, and predominately, but not limited to, female, yeah, see where this is going. But in other examples, there’s a local numerology reader, and her kid has grown up alongside me, literally that kid’s whole life. Seen the kid at shows since she was maybe five or six years old, and now she’s totally an adult with Austin-flavored proclivities, and a spouse-like person in her life. We exchange books and authors’ names, me and the kid. “If you like this, you might like this,” kind of thing, although, she tends towards slasher material while I’m more — I don’t know anymore.
When queried about this, she sort of rolled her eyes, “It’s ‘Kramer,‘ you know, I’ve been around you all my life.”
Then there’s a store manager, him and my sister attended the same fancy college. He’s one of my “gay boyfriends,” but in this dynamic, it takes different flavor. I’m on my third or fourth reader coordinator, the person who does the scheduling and handles the onerous task of herding psychics. But you knew that since you’re psychic.
In this current complaint environment, understand I’ve been an independent contractor working in their retail environment for over five years, now. Seen help come and go, and have made some long-lasting friendships. Leave me in a work-setting long enough, and a bond starts to emerge.
I had an intuitive hit that there was something amiss.
“It’s store policy, Kramer.”
At the event in Austin, I finally had a chance to ask about this, and the result was amusing, at best. The store manager refused to talk to me about the complaint because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings. The reader-coordinator refused to talk to me about it because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings.
“You tell Kramer.”
“No, you tell him. It’s your job.”
“No, it’s your job.”
“Well, Kramer has a thing a for you.”
“Well, you have a thing for Kramer.”
That was the gist of what was reiterated to me.
Both demurred because neither wanted the task of delivering a complaint to me.
Complaint Dept.
In person, I am irreverent, politically incorrect, warm, cold, harsh, straightforward, and obtuse. Really clear some days, and remarkably off-center on other days. What made the complaint funnier? It wasn’t someone I did a reading for, or even contacted me for services. I was on the phone to someone else, and apparently the overheard conversation was unsettling.
Might’ve been talking to a fishing buddy, some of them are single, and it’s “fishing buddy” chatter, “Beer, bait, and ammo.” One typical topic has been left off the list for obvious reasons. I do have some female clients and the conversations tend to be the same, or along the same lines, pretty much rude, crude, and apparently, socially unacceptable.
I do have fun with my work.
Complaint Dept.
One of my early pieces for the astrofish.net fineprint?
“We are not acting in any way to send you this information; you are choosing to receive it!”
I forget the exact terms, but what it amounts to? This is an “opt-in” situation. You came looking for me, and you’re choosing to receive whatever it is that I’m spewing; therefore, this is on you. I’m not forcing this on anyone.
Complaint Dept.
In a discussion with other professional associates, I was — wan’t complaining — expressing wry amusement at the situation — struck with the odd fealty of “You tell him,” and “no, you tell him,” scenario.
“So this was your ‘Joe Biden’ moment?”
Hearing it put like that gave me pause. First off, I don’t touch anyone if I’m not invited. Even then, with the exception of the one male, I don’t do bump-and-grind hugs. Strictly platonic, A-frame hugs and even then, usually just a side hug. No, that kind of bump-and-grind hug got in me in trouble long before; I learned. (Many years distant, I hugged a business associate, and I felt his tongue darting in my ear. OK: so, yeah, no.)
But in a metaphorical way, yes, it could be considered a ‘Joe Biden’ moment, but I had one of those many years back. Former client unloaded on me, and that’s when I realized that the content has to suit the listener. I can’t craft every bit of what I do to be perfectly tailored to a specific person. I also assumed enlightened outlook, when that might not have been the situation. My bad.
As I’ve alluded to before, there’s always that person with certain destination in mind, and if I don’t deliver the exactly correct narrative, then I’m no good.
Kind of goes against my understanding of personal responsibility in the way the world works, cf. Hamlet. Or even Boethius.
The older argument, or debate, or answer that I have? Slightly facile, but this is a Free Market Economy. Don’t like what I say, or how I say it? Nothing is holding you here.
My irreverence is part of who I am and what I do. I tread, sometimes carelessly, between the therapeutic and holistic worlds.
I’ve been casting charts, and plotting the outcome of the Moon’s misfortune over thirty years now. Out of the closet for more than 25 years. I have some experience. Rude, crude, crass, bordering on bad taste, and inappropriate — certainly not for everyone. However, there’s a level of honesty that I bring to the table that is sadly missing from a number of my professional consorts. Don’t forget there are some days, I have a total lack of objectivity. Hint: I never claimed otherwise.
Uranus is now in Taurus. We can expect to see an abrupt and possibly untimely end to certain civilities.
Don’t ask if you don’t want to be told.
Complaint Dept.
Yes, and I even mentioned this sort of material, in passing, years back.
astrofish.net/travel
So what the complaint?
“I’m not telling.”
Other complaint dept.
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