ATTICUS JAEGER
Civilian  
TATTOO ARTIST
That day you see the stripper you slept with at the store and you both reach for the melons. Shit.
Posts: 60
MINI INFO - GENDER: Male
MINI INFO - D.O.B.: July 12, 1972
MINI INFO - OCCUPATION: Tattoo Parlor Owner/Artist
|
Post by ATTICUS JAEGER on Sept 11, 2013 6:32:49 GMT -8
"How hard is it, damn it, to write something down correctly," Atticus snapped. "To answer the phones and to listen to somebody when they tell you what they want? Or, for that matter, how do you schedule four people for me at the same time, Andrew? Enlighten me. It's a five minute conversation, a simple procedure. And you've somehow managed to bend it over and screw it sideways with a chainsaw." Atticus growled around his teeth, so angry he was almost limping around the edge of the counter at the front of the shop. On off days, his leg had a tendency to act up, and once again, the old injury flared with painful intent, serving only to shorten the fuse on his temper. Yes. His patience had reached a breaking point, and mere minutes before opening the parlor for customers. Unfortunately, Andrew was just one of those workers that didn't want to do a damn thing right. Missing work, calling in sick too often, failing at menial tasks, occasionally smart mouthing his customers. It was a wonder Atticus hadn't fired him over a month ago—but he was trying to give the kid a chance. He'd been there before, knew the attitude too well. Sometimes these kids just needed a center to ground them. But this was the last straw. Andrew's carelessness had begun to affect his business, and Atticus was done with it. In no mean terms, he told the kid to get out. "You're fired," he said flatly, rubbing his temple, ignoring any and all angry protests from the young man standing across the room.
“So, what? A couple of guys are angry. It was a small mistake. You can't fire—"
"Yes, I can and did. Go find work elsewhere, you're done here. I can forgive small mistakes. But you do this so often I’m beginning to wonder if it’s your intent to ruin my business. If you can’t pay attention, I don’t need you here."
"You think it's easy to just—"
Atticus snorted. His eyes flashed, snapping to meet Andrew's, a fierce irritation sparking in them. It froze the young man in place. "—replace you?" He finished for him. "Ah, how right you are. How in the world will I ever find someone that can use a pen and answer a phone while I do my work. Such rare skills. I can't just expect that to walk through the door anytime soon." He shook his head. "Like I said boy, we're done. You're fired." Atticus dropped his gaze and opened a drawer on the other side of the counter, seeking a sign he had made ages ago, along with some tape. Andrew stormed out of course, but when he left, a fair amount of Atticus' temper simmered down. He supposed it was the disappointment that cut him the deepest and stirred the proverbial beehive, but no matter. Andrew would have to find his way elsewhere. Meanwhile, Atticus found what he was looking for, walked around the counter and proceeded to tape a "HIRING NOW" sign to the window. It was a crude poster, made by a friend a while back because Atticus hadn't dared try to write it himself. Yet, amusingly enough, he still found use for it.
The note below the basic message read: If you can read, write and answer a phone, congratulations. You probably have a job. Apply within. For good measure, he flipped the "CLOSED" sign on the door to "OPEN" and then tiredly rubbed the frustration from his eyes. With any luck he wouldn't have another Andrew walk through the door.
Time Stamp: May 8th
Notes: This is probably gonna be the shortest, and probably the easiest, hiring process ever. xD
|
|
|
|
Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 12, 2013 14:20:26 GMT -8
tagged: atticus. time: may 8th, 8AM notes: notes. Eilia knew her resume was pathetic. It wasn't something that could be improved. It wasn't something that she could write around. The only possible way to fix it would be to lie, and she'd been told repeatedly not to lie. Lying would be bad. Eventually, she was sure, whoever hired her (if anyone did) would find out about her, and if they found out she'd made up a bunch of stuff on her resume, well... she wouldn't be employed for very long at all. No matter how hard she tried, the simple truth was that there was absolutely zero way to cover up the abrupt hole in her resume. The best advice she'd been given was to leave out anything before, and she had, but that still left a blatant gap. Eighteen, barely graduated, no extra curriculars, no volunteer work, no part time jobs. As far as her resume was concerned, she had gone to school and absolutely nothing else. It didn't even list a grade, simply because she hadn't been graded on most things. She had passed, and that had been enough back then.
It wasn't enough for the real world though. She had printed out one hundred resumes and been given a deal for doing so. She'd handed out almost all of them, combing the nearest mall and every plaza that was a reasonable distance from where she lived. She'd spent no less then four days dropping off resumes, and on the fifth day she hadn't gotten so much as a callback. She had nothing to offer, no experience or connections, and the only thing even vaguely good about hiring her was that she had a whole lot of free time.
She still had ten resumes to hand out when she'd started that day, and she'd more or less run out of places to turn them in. Every place with a sign had gotten one, and she'd frequently found herself asking outright if they were hiring. Most places weren't. She was down to four resumes remaining by the time it hit 8, and she gave a brief glance at a clock in a store window as she passed through downtown. Eight o'clock. That meant it was time to scoop back around and drop resumes off at any newly opened stores.
She was halfway down the street when she came to an abrupt halt. She'd passed the store not a half hour earlier, and there had definitely not been a sign out front. Now there was--a big 'Hiring now' sign in the window. Whatever store it was, it wasn't a chain store, because the sign was crude and handwritten. Holding her resumes in one arm, she bent over a bit, squinting at the note under the message. The whole thing was... well, desperate. It reeked of desperation, of 'I've just dealt with multiple people who are incompetent', and she swallowed hard as she stepped over to the door, pushing it open and stepping inside.
She must have looked particularly out of place in the insides of a tattoo parlor. Brown hair pulled up in a ponytail, brown eyes, a white blouse and a long grey skirt might have been normal for dropping off resumes, but even Eilia knew that tattoo parlors tended to run by different rules. For the moment, the front was empty, and she stepped inside, glancing around before coughing awkwardly. What was she supposed to do, drop a resume on the desk?
|
|
ATTICUS JAEGER
Civilian
TATTOO ARTIST
That day you see the stripper you slept with at the store and you both reach for the melons. Shit.
Posts: 60
MINI INFO - GENDER: Male
MINI INFO - D.O.B.: July 12, 1972
MINI INFO - OCCUPATION: Tattoo Parlor Owner/Artist
|
Post by ATTICUS JAEGER on Sept 15, 2013 12:54:56 GMT -8
Atticus had retreated to the back room after rolling up his sleeves and suppressing an irritated growl; this morning was off to a bad start, and he wasn’t looking forward to all the corrections that had to be made to clean up the mess Andrew left him with. For the sake of his own sanity, he stole a moment to sit down, dropping into a chair in the back room, an irritable, stony look to his eye before he stretched his arms behind his head and leaned back. Even with his eyes closed, his brow was furrowed. He growled more than he sighed when he looked up at the ceiling, his gaze heavily lidded, the plethora of tattoos along his arms, particularly the darker ones, only serving, from an outsider’s perspective, to give his expression a harder edge. At least his leg had temporarily stopped its incessant whining, though he doubted that break would last very long. It hadn’t hurt this damn bad since the stupid hedge maze incident that required one too many beers and shots of hell-if-he-could-remember.
“My life, lately,” he grouched, “has been one big shit fit after another.”
Now Atticus really did sigh, that tired, drawled out sound a person made when they just couldn’t win. At least there was consolation in his ability to recover quickly, and it helped to just flat out admit it and move on. Venting over and done with—simple enough, right? Better than most other outcomes anyway. He might have drifted back into his quiet thoughts, content to wait for some of his still-training artists to check in (minus Andrew, of course), but paused when he thought he heard the door open. He knew he should go check, and rose up from his seat slowly, looking more relaxed than before. Nonetheless, when he made his way to the front of the parlor, a faint sort of surprise overcame him. His brow rose, but only slightly. The young woman standing there wasn’t who he was expecting, but she also didn’t seem the sort that would…be a customer either. Well—to an extent. He’d seen people of all types walk through that door and request something or another, but he supposed in the grander scheme of things, she would be considered more of a rare sight than a common one.
“Welcome to the Bleeding Ink, Tattoo Parlor,” he said right off the bat. “Name’s Atticus Jaeger. What can I do for you today?” He wasn’t sure what he expected. Though he doubted it would shock him.
Time Stamp: May 8th 8:00am-ish
Notes: N/A
|
|
|
|
Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 18, 2013 17:15:16 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. Eilia was well aware that she wasn't exactly 'customer' material. Even if she'd never been in a tattoo parlor before in her life, she'd been sort-of friends with at least two girls who had. One only had a little tattoo on her shoulder blade, but the other had tattoos on what seemed to be every single bit of exposed flesh. Eilia had only been twelve when she'd met the girl, and she'd been forced to wonder if the girl wasn't trying to dye herself black. Now she'd been around long enough to have a better idea of why someone might tattoo themselves extensively (mostly to leave their own mark and show their independence, as far as she was concerned), but it still didn't change the simple fact that she was out of place. She was small and mousy and normal. Everything she was could be described as 'average'. Her hair was brown, her eyes were brown, her build was average, her weight, her height, everything. Some of it was coincidence, but a lot of it was an active choice. She'd chosen to keep her hair brown, to cut it in a way that drew no attention. To wear clothes that would never stand out. Eilia would have done anything for a normal life, and it was reflected in every choice she got to make.
Except, apparently, where she chose to apply for work. No one would ever describe working at a tattoo parlor to be conventional, but she'd gone inside in the hopes of being hired. Even if she somehow doubted the sign was genuine (it couldn't possibly be that hard to get a half decent worker, could it?), she was still certainly open to the possibility.
"I was..." He hesitated, turning half around to gesture to the sign. "I saw your sign and and was hoping to drop off a resume." Because it at least meant they were hiring, and she was desperate to be hired, and didn't things usually work out like that in the movies? She hesitated for a long moment, suddenly realizing that she was being rude--or more accurately, that she thought she might possibly be being rude to a guy who might very well be her boss (he did have an awful lot of tattoos, and wouldn't it make sense for him to be in charge with that many?). The whole thing hastened a quick apology, her face flushing red.
"Sorry that I'm - well, not here for a tattoo." She blurted out. |
|
ATTICUS JAEGER
Civilian
TATTOO ARTIST
That day you see the stripper you slept with at the store and you both reach for the melons. Shit.
Posts: 60
MINI INFO - GENDER: Male
MINI INFO - D.O.B.: July 12, 1972
MINI INFO - OCCUPATION: Tattoo Parlor Owner/Artist
|
Post by ATTICUS JAEGER on Sept 19, 2013 20:33:42 GMT -8
“You’d be lookin’ to talk to me, then,” he said, surprised that the sign had barely been up for five minutes and someone was already interested. “I own the place. Let’s see it, then. The resume,” Atticus said automatically, holding out his hand. He didn’t seem to mind the nervousness, or even notice the self conscious backpedaling and the anxious apology. She seemed nice enough, and clearly she knew how to read if she noticed the sign outside. That was a big plus in his book. As aggravated as he was with Alex, Atticus needed somebody to put up with all the paperwork of this business that didn’t involve expenses and profit. He had a hard enough time with that—Atticus didn’t need to add more of a headache to his week by struggling to interpret someone’s name on a list or reading off notes about what a customer wanted. He could handle the discussions well enough, but not the note taking and reading portion of this job, unfortunately. Not that he’d ever admit it.
And there was of course, the typical speech he had to give whenever somebody came in looking for a job. “The sign outside lacks the fine print, but what I’m looking for is somebody to work the front desk. You’ll handle the paperwork, the scheduling, the first few minutes of Q&A the customer, any phone calls that come in, that sort of thing. Simple enough now that we’re talking about it, but some people can’t even manage that much.” He paused. “A tattoo parlor’s an interesting pick for a job, actually.” He was more or less amused by the fact that Eilia didn’t seem to have a single tattoo on her. Most people that worked in these places did. It was a way to advertise what the shop offered, really. Atticus wouldn’t push her into getting anything done, however. Quite frankly, he cared more about her competence, and he wore enough of his own artwork to get by perfectly well on. “What’s your name? You have any experience at all? The primary thing I’m concerned for is your ability to tolerate people.”
As with any job that required immediate communication with a customer.
He’d make sure to take a glance at her resume, but the questions were more or less his primary way of gauging her capability. In all likelihood, he was just going to give the paper she offered him a quick glance, and nothing else.
Notes: It's probably gonna make me snort when he notices how fairly empty her resume is, but dear lord she's adorable. xD
|
|
|
|
Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 20, 2013 11:09:29 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. When he asked for it, she was quick to hand it over, looking even more nervous. It was acceptable. She had her GED, her marks were good, but it was what wasn't there that mattered. It was hard to play up the positives in an empty space. She had no volunteer work, no work experience. It was a whole lot of empty space that she had to work around. Of course, the quasi-interview that the man seemed to be going for gave her the chance for that at least. If she made a good impression, maybe he'd overlook the spots and decide to give her a chance. If she was just dropping off a resume, there was a much lower chance of that.
Paperwork? Scheduling? Dealing with customers? Phone calls? Everything she could do, although phone calls were probably the part she was iffiest on. She knew the theory though, and she wasn't going to just volunteer the fact that she could count the number of phone calls she'd received on one hand. She was relatively confident she could manage it, she'd just have to treat it like she was there in person, and she'd be fine.
She hesitated, cleared her throat, and then tried to answer the rapid fire barrage of questions. "My name is Eilia Tifiel." Which was, as she knew, a relatively odd name. She supposed that fit in at least--her idea of someone who worked at a tattoo shop included weird outfits and weird names, and so far the man in front of her was meeting half of that. There weren't any 'Susans' or 'Richards' working at the tattoo shop she imagined. The second question was more awkward, but the third one was a good one.
If there was one thing in the world Eilia could do really well, it was tolerate people. Most people could handle normal people, but when things got angry or weird, they balked. Eilia had never had that issue. She'd spent most of her life dealing with people that would be considered strange, and while most people would freak out when someone was screaming at them, Eilia had a hard time even being bothered. So what if some guy ended up yelling because the boss wouldn't tattoo him? At least it wasn't a full on mental breakdown.
And even if it was, she was fairly certain she could handle that just fine.
"I - well, I don't have any experience. This would be my first job. But I'm really good with people." Of course, the hard part was going to be explaining why she was good at people. "I've had a lot of experience with that, so it doesn't really matter if people yell or try and intimidate me or whatever." She was good with all that. Really, she was. She was just hoping her word was going to be enough, because it wasn't as if you could get a degree in not giving a crap.
|
|
ATTICUS JAEGER
Civilian
TATTOO ARTIST
That day you see the stripper you slept with at the store and you both reach for the melons. Shit.
Posts: 60
MINI INFO - GENDER: Male
MINI INFO - D.O.B.: July 12, 1972
MINI INFO - OCCUPATION: Tattoo Parlor Owner/Artist
|
Post by ATTICUS JAEGER on Sept 22, 2013 18:25:28 GMT -8
Atticus’ gaze flicked up from the resume Eilia handed him. Her first job? Interesting. Not many people picked a tattoo parlor for that sort of thing, but he supposed it wasn’t too different from the art interns he occasionally took on either. She would just be sitting behind a desk anyway—better that, in his opinion, than standing all day in a grocery store behind a cash register or re-shelving items people had deliberately put back in the wrong section. That and—oh god this resume was very short. He had glanced back down at it to give the impression that he was reading while she explained, but even he didn’t need to bother with the words on this paper. There was just a lot of…blank space. Where yes, other jobs, volunteer work, and possibly any relatable experience information should be. Well. He glanced at her again, before looking away, setting the sheet of paper down on the counter top as he drew near the front area of the store.
Everybody had to start somewhere. She had to be better than that shit-for-brains Andrew anyway.
“Eilia, right? You ah—you said you had a lot of experience with people,” he said, mostly to keep her talking and distract himself from the awkward…sadness that was her resume. “That’s good. I’m guessin’ you don’t have a lot of references I could ask for, though, if it’s your first job.” He paused. “Might be good to elaborate a bit on that experience you mentioned, and anything else I should know. Obviously, I’m not going to hang you out to dry if a customer’s decided to make a complete ass of himself, but you’d still need to stomach a few things now and then.” He really did want at least a little confirmation about that experience she mentioned, even if it was only a detail or two. However, Atticus was already impatient; he had moved around the counter and was looking for more paperwork for her to either take with her or fill out now.
He found them and slapped them down on the desk.
“If you’ve got any problems with scheduling, questions about the job itself, or there’s an issue I need to know about now—that would all count as need-to-know."
Notes: Give or take some conversation and voilà. Hired.
|
|
|
|
Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 24, 2013 16:48:05 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. All things considered, Eilia wouldn't have picked it for her first job either. Not many people would have chosen it, and it was certainly a bit out there. Some might have chosen to work for a tattoo parlor, but the number of people who would have chosen to work as a receptionist could probably be counted on one hand. It wasn't glamorous, or even terribly interesting, but it was still a job, and even if it didn't work out, it would get her valuable experience to cram onto her half empty resume.
The question he asked was an awkward one. She had references. She had people that could vouch for her. But there way no possible way to use them as references without explaining who they were--therapists and doctors and nurses who had worked where she'd spent most of her life. They'd encouraged her to be open and up front with prospective employers, to put her best foot forward with honesty and openness. It would make things easier if anything happened. Even so, she wasn't willing to do it. She wasn't willing to just volunteer that information in the first ten minutes of knowing someone, to just out and say 'by the way I'm schizophrenic'. To her, it was like hanging a 'don't hire me' sign around her neck. The only ones who would hire her after hearing that information... well, they'd look at her with pity, not competence. She didn't want to get a job because of her history--she wanted to get one despite it. She wanted to prove herself.
And, well, if he found out after the fact, hopefully her work ethic would hold true.
"No, not really." She mumbled, thinking hard on how it was best to explain it. "I've had a lot of experience with... people with issues." She opted to explain, being fairly cryptic. She was hoping he'd jump to the conclusion that her family, despite the fact that it sounded more like she'd fallen in with a gang. "I can handle it." She tried to sound reassuring, confident she could handle that.
She didn't flinch when he slapped the papers down, which was probably a good sign to him. She paused, eyeing the papers. "I guess... when do I start? My schedule's completely free. I'm not going to school." She did have some vague aspirations of taking night classes, but that was a long, long way off.
|
|
ATTICUS JAEGER
Civilian
TATTOO ARTIST
That day you see the stripper you slept with at the store and you both reach for the melons. Shit.
Posts: 60
MINI INFO - GENDER: Male
MINI INFO - D.O.B.: July 12, 1972
MINI INFO - OCCUPATION: Tattoo Parlor Owner/Artist
|
Post by ATTICUS JAEGER on Sept 25, 2013 17:19:07 GMT -8
"Fair enough," Atticus conceded under his breath. He only glanced in her direction once after she spoke, and the thoughtful glint in his eye faded quickly. Eilia was much more eager to keep to the topic of the job than she was to answer questions about herself, even if, apparently, they actually pertained to her capabilities. It was mildly irritating, but also curious, and familiar enough that her avoidance was nothing he couldn't swallow or deal with. He may or may not be surprised with what it was she was hiding later, but it mattered little now. Almost anyone would be an improvement over Andrew. Granted that, there was very little else to say about the details she had given him--virtually none. Nonetheless, Atticus betrayed no sign he noticed or even considered it something to pursue. Instead, he scooped up the few papers he needed her to fill out after he had them all assembled, tapped them once against the counter to line them up neatly, and held them out to her.
"You start tomorrow, then," he said. Time would tell if Eilia would stick around long enough for whatever it was she was keeping secret, to surface. He suspected it would, eventually, but pressing would be pointless. "I don't ask my employees to follow a strict dress code. You just show up, looking--" he paused, reaching for the right word, "--decent." Atticus sighed and rubbed his temple. "In short, good clothes, nothing revealing, torn, or anything that looks like it hasn't seen or heard of the word, 'soap'. Common sense, right? Hell, if you wanted to wear jeans and a t-shirt, that's fine." Most of his workers sported entire clusters of tatts, for god's sake, including himself. Very few people walked into a tattoo parlor expecting to see employees working in elaborate dresses and tailored suits. "Point is, it's a relaxed atmosphere. You can wear what makes you comfortable, but all I ask in return is that you do it within reason."
He looked at her again, and this time the pause was more serious. When he spoke, so was his tone. "Listen, kid. I'm cutting you some serious slack here. I just fired a guy that fed me nothing but excuses for shit work. I know it looks and sounds like it's going to be easy; I've just taken a whole five minutes to ask you one or two questions before hiring you. We both know that's not normal. In fact, a lot of people would think it's stupid." He paused and his brow furrowed. "The point bein', just don't disappoint me," he finished. "Show up on time tomorrow. An hour before the parlor opens. Got it?"
Hilariously enough, Atticus might have been one of the more tolerant and understanding people about whatever it was she wanted to hide; he was unwilling to accept it made her any different or warranted special treatment. That would have been his own stubborn, resilience showing, sure, but he refused to cater to notions of pity. He himself, received none.
Time Stamp: May 8th
Notes: N/A
|
|
|
|
Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 25, 2013 18:10:45 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. If she hadn't been making a point to be presentable, she probably would have laughed when Mr. Jaeger -- Atticus, really -- explained the dress code. She didn't even own anything like he'd described. All her clothes were average and orderly, with not a single rip between them. She'd probably make an effort to fit in a bit more by not dressing up quite so much. She could probably do just fine in jeans and a nice shirt, and it would keep her from sticking out quite as much as she was right then.
"That's -" She paused, trying to steel her nerve. "That's fine. Everything I own meets those requirements." The sudden serious turn of the conversation made her straighten up a bit, back straight as a poker as she gave a quick nod. She could do it. She could be serious. She'd impress him--she could do whatever he wanted and more. If he wanted things in a pile, they'd be sorted by appointment time. If he wanted files on record, she'd alphabetize them. Whatever he wanted, he was going to get, and he was going to get it done with an insane level of dedication and focus.
"Yes sir." She paused, unsure of if 'sir' fit him. It didn't really, she supposed. He didn't look like either 'Mr. Jaeger' or a 'Sir'. Maybe 'Atticus' or 'Boss' would do better in the future. "On time an hour before opening." Theoretically so he could show her the ropes. |
|
ATTICUS JAEGER
Civilian
TATTOO ARTIST
That day you see the stripper you slept with at the store and you both reach for the melons. Shit.
Posts: 60
MINI INFO - GENDER: Male
MINI INFO - D.O.B.: July 12, 1972
MINI INFO - OCCUPATION: Tattoo Parlor Owner/Artist
|
Post by ATTICUS JAEGER on Sept 27, 2013 23:32:03 GMT -8
“You got it,” he muttered. Atticus tossed one last look at the counter to make sure he had given her all of her paperwork. “Remember, bring some identification; I’ve got to make copies for business records and U.S. citizenship and all that crap the government needs me to tell them about that shouldn’t be any of their damn business.” He looked at her one last time and offered her his hand to shake. “And congratulations. Now go do what you gotta do, but just be here ready for work tomorrow.” He had no clue if this would end well. It was an experiment for both parties really; he had never hired someone so quickly, without a more intensive interview process involved. Even Andrew had gone through it. He was really changing things up this time, and a part of him was almost certain it’d come back to bite him in the ass later.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he supposed. But then again, if you didn’t try there weren’t disappointments. He sighed and let Eilia go at last, waving her off and nodding to anything she said before she went. She seemed like a good kid. Maybe a little nervous, but not someone he’d have to babysit constantly. Eilia said she could handle herself when it came to dealing with people—and he believed her. He hadn’t detected any sort of lie there, just a strange hesitation, maybe some kind of anxiety. The point was, he couldn’t tell exactly what was bothering her, but he didn’t think she had outright lied about that much.
Either way, Atticus resumed his work around the shop. Any minute now at least one or two of his art interns would be coming in to help. He expected customers today too, and he still had to handle the mess Andrew left him with. Eilia literally fell to the bottom of his list of possible concerns for the moment, though time would tell if he’d eventually regret his decision to hire her.
Notes: Tiiiiired. Will make new thread tomorrow...or later today. Whatever. xD
|
|
REITGERTE
Staff Mod 
WANT TO MAKE A CONTRACT?
／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼
Posts: 524
|
Post by REITGERTE on Sept 29, 2013 20:07:59 GMT -8
| | | Finished Thread
You have been rewarded with ONE RESIDUE as this thread is now complete. It has been placed in the archives under the 'finished' sub-board. You are more than welcome to PM fate if this thread is not finished or if you are unhappy/unsatisfied with the amount of residue that has been rewarded. Keep up the great work and keep posting with other members.
|
|
|
