#(about to sound very old) any of y'all take fucking keyboarding classes????? or was my school wack

[multi-lefaiye]

#cracks knuckles#multi-lefaiye#YEAHHHH#and for fun i'll do some rp blog urls#bleedingovereden. gas-stxtion. troublewithvampires.#this shit's easy

^ this is fake, this was fake right? there's is no way you did that typed with eyes closed, you got it perfect no way (<- not mad) (incredulous, in disbelief)

FJASDKL;FJ no it's real. like i do make typos sometimes ("sometimes") but i don't need to see the keyboard to type

when i was in middle school i was required to take a typing class that involved us memorizing the keyboard layout and it's been embedded into my brain ever since

[prorevenge]

My kid does 13K in damage to studio equip, we handle it like lunatics.

[Part 1]

Some background:

I'm an audio engineer and score arranger full time in my self-owned business. It's how I provide for myself, my fiancée (also CF), and my mother. I record, mix, and master for bands, voice-overs for local commercials, and write music for people's weddings, college films, indie games, etc.. It was my passion since I was a child and every day I ask myself why I get paid to do what I do.

You know, until today.

I had a woman schedule to come in because she wanted me to record her monologue for an acting class. I thought it was going to be easy enough. I set up a mic and a music stand in the sound booth and got my workstation prepped for tracking. She was supposed to show up at 3:30, so when 4:00 came around, I called her to ask her if she was still coming. It was my last contract for the day and I was wanting to get home to my fiancée, dogs, and dinner.

"Oh, sorry sweetie, I'm going to be there soon. I just had to get my son from ex-boyfriend."

Uh oh.

4:12, she showed up with her child.

To preface, I've never really wanted kids, and don't really hate them either. But I've been childfree of mind for a decade now in league of several bad child experiences in public.

Anyway, I sat her down at the conference table and tried to talk to her about the contract and billing, etc., and just couldn't because of the six-years-old pile of ovary droppings next to her.

"Mommy it's cold in here." "Mommy, I'm bored." "Mommy, that guy has girl hair." "Mommy, I want to play on the phone."

The incessant whining went on for the entirety of the discussion. She did nothing about it. I had an ache in my stomach that this might be a rough session.

I was right.

I showed her to the sound booth, positioned the mic at face level, told her the basics of mic use, and then she floored me with a question.

"Can my son stay in there with you while I do this?" I insisted that he wait in the conference room (across the hall from the control room) because the control room wasn't a very kid-friendly place considering the 120K of equipment at arms reach.

"But he's a little angel."

I shouldn't have taken her word for it. I SHOULD NOT have taken her word for it. This kid was ANYTHING but. I let him in, told him to sit in one of the office chairs and don't touch anything. Needless to say, he touched. I queued the recording arm and signaled her to start. She got three lines into her take before I hear a deafening screech and crash.

That little shit machine had just knocked over a $4,000 Korg into a rack with $9,500 of equipment. Completely shattered the touchscreen on the Korg, busted the dials off of half of the effects, and totaled my distressor that I use for almost all the vocals I track.

All of this, by the way, was the room's length apart from where I told the crotch goblin to stay.

The kid, because of the loud noise, started full-lung screaming. Not crying. Not yelling. Screaming.

The mother, with no hesitation, ran over to the control room and DEMANDED to know what I did to her child. She cussed at me and accused me of hurting her little snot monster. Threatened to sue and even swung at me. When I told her that her precious angel had just racked up at least twelve grand of damages, she said "good", spit on me, then stormed out, slamming every door on the way. So I pulled the security camera footage and had filed a police report. Grand total: $13,504.25. I also mailed her the bill for her session for good measure.

Of six years in the studio, this is my only truly terrible experience. Fuck mombies. Fuck having children. Thanks for making my vasectomy decision that much easier on me.

[Part 2]

I'm going to start off and say that this community is bad ass. With legal advice, moral support, and inquiry of the trade, you guys/gals/other have made this whole endeavor a bit easier on me.

Cheers.

Okay, since Sunday, I've managed to speak with my insurance company, my lawyer, some repair techs, the police (again), and my urologist. For the sake of good storytelling, I'll organize this chronically.

Monday:

I left a message for my insurance agent about all this. I then called some repair techs about getting my Korg and the distressor repaired to potential working order, and to no avail. The distressor would have costed two grand to repair (on a $1,320 piece), so I wait on my insurance payout to replace it. Korg, apparently, has no replacement parts available anywhere in the US for their flagship keyboard, so another $4k down the drain. The dials on the rest of the effects rack can be easily fixed. May not look as stellar, but what can you do. At least it survived an attack from an over-metastasized cumshot. I ordered replacement dials from my local electronics store and mailed out the session bill to Mombie. Beyond that, I got in touch with a friend in Memphis who was gracious enough to lend me his Portico 5042 in the meantime. Should be arriving some time Friday.

Tuesday:

Boy oh boy. I went to my lawyer's office to see what could be done about Mombie's actions. He's thinking it'd just be best to let the insurance company go after the property damages, and that it'd be too expensive for me to recruit him for what the insurance company will do by themselves. As per the assaults are concerned, he asked me to gather all evidence (Video, contract, police report) and said that since no bodily harm was caused, it'd be the best idea to go to civil court rather than criminal, and file for a protective order. The words "emotional damages" were emphasized. He was very specific about not posting any of the evidence. As long as what I post remains vague, doesn't mention any identifying information, it doesn't stand in court.

"Make sure you can say it is a made up story if asked."

We also discussed revising my contract, more info on that when we get to it. Beyond that, I decided to jump the gun and inquire about a vasectomy. I have an appointment with my GP on the 7th of March.

Wednesday:

Reader beware, this is where it gets cringy. I'd grab a stiff drink if I were you. I opened the studio back up and got back to work. I had a voicemail left for me on the studio phone. A "lawyer", toting the most deep fried country accent I've heard, called me from a "Ford & Handcock" law firm (which I couldn't find anywhere on the internet) threatening "Immediate sueing" for "Sexual rape harassment" for filing a police report against his "client."

Here's the transcript of what I could understand through his dumpster fire of an accent: (I swear I'm not making this up) "Yeah, this is [withheld] from Ford & Handcock callin' to tell you that you're gonna get immediate sueing for what you did to my girlfri- client and her baby boy. Y'all know as well as I do that [unintelligible noises] was nothin' short of sexual rape harassment and that you're goin' ta be in a lawsuit if you don't delete the cop report you made up(?)."

I couldn't breathe, I was laughing too hard.

Once I regained my composure, I called back to inquire about this impending doom that I was promised by this product-of-incest harbinger. The call was forwarded to their voicemail inbox, where it opened up with the aforementioned accent, saying:

"Hey, this is [different name than the "lawyer"] and [mombie's name] and we're not here right now so if you could leave..."

So on.

So I just hung up and called my fiancee, emailed her the voicemail and asked her to listen to it, just to hear her sniffling and cackling like a maniac at the sound of this guy's six-inches-deep-in-cousin accent and overall misunderstanding of the american law system. I recorded the voicemail onto a thumbstick and giving it to my lawyer along with the video, police report, etc..

Thursday:

As of this morning, no call back from my insurance adjuster, so I'm just going to wait on that. I'm sitting by the phone, so if I get another call from "Ford & Handcock", I can deliver the "Do not call back/stop harassing me" line, so I can add that to the list of potential charges if it becomes a thing. Not very much else happened beyond that, and I'll keep you lot updated. Thanks for your support. *Edited to fix a phone auto-correct, what was supposed to say "Ford & Handcock" said "Ford & Hitchcock". Sorry all.

[Part 3]

There has been a... development with the mombie, dr /professor/lawyer/part time absent-father from Ford and Handcock.

I said in the update I posted before (Links at the bottom) that I had a call from a "lawyer" from one "Ford and Handcock", and am practically on standby for another call from said "lawyer".

Well, that call came on Friday.

So, guy called back, my fiancee was in the studio with me while we were taking turns playing Dishonored 2 on a "workstation" pc doing very important adult-like studio work, and his message for me was practically a carbon copy of the last one. I gave him the "Do not call back/stop harassing me" bit, to which he said

"That law don't apply to me. I'm a laawwyyeerr. I can do whatever the hell I need to do to do the law, even if it takes lethal deadly force" [sic]

Given the threat, I called the police, filed a report, gave them the original recording of the call and kept a copy for myself.

My wife-to-be did notice that the inbred gave the pseudonym "Conrad McMasters", which she recognized from the TV show "Matlock". Go figure.

So, skipping on to tonight.

We came back to the studio to pick up a laptop for my mum to use while in the hospital (just a minor fall injury, she'll make a full recovery), and noticed that the handle on the exterior door had been jerked loose. So, I told Fiancee to get back into the car and park down the street, have 911 dialed, don't come out until the all clear, call the police if she heard gunshots. I drew my handgun and looked around the place.

I didn't find anything, but the windows and outside door were damaged with what seemed like an attempted break-in, and a "Cash Express" post-it-note stuck to the stoop that said "U fucked up".

Shout out to U/VanillaG6790 (hope I'm formatting this correctly) for suggesting that I put cameras outside the studio alongside the interior ones. I only have one installed as of yet (DIY), facing the front door. So, I made sure nobody was around, waved Fiancee back to the studio, we got in, locked up, and backed up the security footage to see what we could find.

Lo and Behold, Mombie's car. A man (maybe the singletoothed re-imagining of Mr. McMasters from before?) yanked on the outside door with the veracity of a chimpanzee in the prime of mating season, walked out of frame (in the direction of the aforementioned windows) and stayed out of frame for about fifteen minutes, before returning just to scribble on the note and stick it on the stoop. He then saw the camera, shot the biggest 'O SHIT' face, and scurried back to his methmobile and sped off.

So to recap, we have a clear-view copy of:

His license plate

His attempted breaking-and-entering

His face. The pez-dispenser looking motherfucker practically spiked the lens for five seconds.

Police were called for this too. Details will be submitted post-trial, and I'll contact my lawyer first thing in the morning.

I tried doing it just now, but, DUH, it's Sunday, his office is closed.

Anyway, you guys are awesome. The advice I'm getting from you lot is saving me so much grief. I'm contacting the Bar association to tell them about the actions of Dr./Professor/Matlock-Impersonator/absent-father.

By the way, Meeting with GP (and then hopefully my urologist) next Tuesday in attempts at getting snipped.

Oh, and I've gotten most of the dials my equipment repaired, I ordered another KRONOS, another distressor, and got the Portico 5042 on Friday as a temporary stand-in. I have to give it to the Portico. Not bad. Not bad at all.

I'll keep you all updated as things happen, but I'm not sure when it may be. I'll post a micro-update on how the appointment goes on the 7th.

(source) (story by deleted)