Oxnard-- I roll through my typical week, you know, a working Joe who writes and reports on news affecting residents. But along the way, little things pop up that irritate me to no end.
SOME things are not so epic, for example, stopping at the hot bin when grocery shopping to grab a hot snack, only to end up eating a cold, greasy piece of protein. You know, when I was a kid, I worked at a fast-food restaurant, and the rule was food over 10 minutes old went into the trash. That rule seems to have faded.
Dealing with me can have some challenges, something the J-Train, The Sarge, The Paramedic, and the rest of my family agree upon, but in this context, a telemarketer called me and wanted to talk to me about my business, and this person told me that about a note.
Okay, so I asked for the person’s name, then I asked for the name of the company that sold them my phone number, where the note came from, what it said, and the name of the person’s supervisor. The funny thing is the phone call ended less than a second later. I was…
