*** 275 DAYS REMAIN ***
Most of you reading this probably know me as that guy who somehow manages to be charming despite having intentionally horrific table manners and unintentionally mixing up racial slurs with nicknames for sex acts. And of course let's not forget my role as the fucking flak-magnet for having dirty, dirty, dirty sex with a girl who turned out to be the absolute biggest raunchy piece of poo on the planet. On Christmas! It kind of sounds like I'm bragging, but we all know better, don't we? Not that mind the elbow-ribbing....in fact sometimes I downright enjoy it.....because really it is funny...
So where was I going with this? Oh yeah! My point is that I think that most of the people who know me from this site would be somewhat surprised to watch me at work. Yes...AT WORK. At my job. Where I work. I say this because, for six to eight hours a day, I am able to shelve all the diarrhea jokes and borderline downs syndrome behavior and become a professional. Granted, I'm a professional in a coffee shop maikng under ten bucks an hour, but for what it 's worth I'm calling some shots and managing one or two employees at a time. Yay me. Believe me, I'm not suffering from delusions of grandeur -- I just want to go on record saying that I am an EXEMPLARY EMPLOYEE. My parents, both successful restaurant owners, drilled the concepts of a good work ethic into my head growing up. So here's how I operate:
When I'm at work, I am working. It's not that I don't like you. It's not that I've forgotten how to have fun. It's not as if some starchy ass square crawled up my ass into my skin and is forcing me to be a boorish lout while I wear my apron. I've got a job to do. I have seven hours or so to do it. And I don't care who you are....if you are preventing me from doing my job, you're going to piss me off. Big time. And then you're going to get an earful.
Knowing that, here's what happened tonight -- stream of consciousness style:
So tonight, a girl comes into the the store.
She used to be a member of this site.
But she isn't anymore.
Go play detective and see if you can figure it out.
Here are some hints:
A) She wears WAY too much perfume.
Like seriously, enough to make you wanna blow chunks
Beefy chunks
B) She always sounds like she is drunk
C) She says that one person on my friends list is creepy
D) I did not fuck her
So she comes in and wants me to take a break.
I've met this girl once before
I talked to her for five minutes
Tonight she came in around ten.
At this point I have 2 hours to close down a 3000 square foot store with very little backup.
I had taken my break over two hours ago.
I'm doing dishes.
She wants to talk.
My body language is very avoisive.
Avoisive needs to be a word.
Like 'preggstitute' and 'guitarded'.
She comes into the kitchen.
She is stupid.
The dumbest lame bullshit anyone has ever said in the history of earth is coming out of her mouth.
I can't even repeat it.
It was that utterly meaningless.
It might have been about shopping.
Or shoues.
I don't remember.
I was busy cleaning cups
Which I enjoy
To pleasant sensation.
Anyway she goes on and on and on.
Finally I say, "Well I have to get back to work you're a dumb retard."
I didn't actually say those last four words.
She got pissed.
Because I was doing MY JOB.
Her perfume smelled like a disease.
I'm not even being metaphorical here.
It actually smelled like chlamydia or gout or something vile like that.
She stormed off.
Please let me never see her again.
Goddammit! I gave her my phone number!
What is wrong with me?
My roommate is trying to eat a 3-pound bag of cheese. She is so gross.
I would punch her, but I bet that her fat flesh would burn my hand.
***
I really should update during the day -- you know, when I'm actually coherent.
Most of you reading this probably know me as that guy who somehow manages to be charming despite having intentionally horrific table manners and unintentionally mixing up racial slurs with nicknames for sex acts. And of course let's not forget my role as the fucking flak-magnet for having dirty, dirty, dirty sex with a girl who turned out to be the absolute biggest raunchy piece of poo on the planet. On Christmas! It kind of sounds like I'm bragging, but we all know better, don't we? Not that mind the elbow-ribbing....in fact sometimes I downright enjoy it.....because really it is funny...
So where was I going with this? Oh yeah! My point is that I think that most of the people who know me from this site would be somewhat surprised to watch me at work. Yes...AT WORK. At my job. Where I work. I say this because, for six to eight hours a day, I am able to shelve all the diarrhea jokes and borderline downs syndrome behavior and become a professional. Granted, I'm a professional in a coffee shop maikng under ten bucks an hour, but for what it 's worth I'm calling some shots and managing one or two employees at a time. Yay me. Believe me, I'm not suffering from delusions of grandeur -- I just want to go on record saying that I am an EXEMPLARY EMPLOYEE. My parents, both successful restaurant owners, drilled the concepts of a good work ethic into my head growing up. So here's how I operate:
When I'm at work, I am working. It's not that I don't like you. It's not that I've forgotten how to have fun. It's not as if some starchy ass square crawled up my ass into my skin and is forcing me to be a boorish lout while I wear my apron. I've got a job to do. I have seven hours or so to do it. And I don't care who you are....if you are preventing me from doing my job, you're going to piss me off. Big time. And then you're going to get an earful.
Knowing that, here's what happened tonight -- stream of consciousness style:
So tonight, a girl comes into the the store.
She used to be a member of this site.
But she isn't anymore.
Go play detective and see if you can figure it out.
Here are some hints:
A) She wears WAY too much perfume.
Like seriously, enough to make you wanna blow chunks
Beefy chunks
B) She always sounds like she is drunk
C) She says that one person on my friends list is creepy
D) I did not fuck her
So she comes in and wants me to take a break.
I've met this girl once before
I talked to her for five minutes
Tonight she came in around ten.
At this point I have 2 hours to close down a 3000 square foot store with very little backup.
I had taken my break over two hours ago.
I'm doing dishes.
She wants to talk.
My body language is very avoisive.
Avoisive needs to be a word.
Like 'preggstitute' and 'guitarded'.
She comes into the kitchen.
She is stupid.
The dumbest lame bullshit anyone has ever said in the history of earth is coming out of her mouth.
I can't even repeat it.
It was that utterly meaningless.
It might have been about shopping.
Or shoues.
I don't remember.
I was busy cleaning cups
Which I enjoy
To pleasant sensation.
Anyway she goes on and on and on.
Finally I say, "Well I have to get back to work you're a dumb retard."
I didn't actually say those last four words.
She got pissed.
Because I was doing MY JOB.
Her perfume smelled like a disease.
I'm not even being metaphorical here.
It actually smelled like chlamydia or gout or something vile like that.
She stormed off.
Please let me never see her again.
Goddammit! I gave her my phone number!
What is wrong with me?
My roommate is trying to eat a 3-pound bag of cheese. She is so gross.
I would punch her, but I bet that her fat flesh would burn my hand.
***
I really should update during the day -- you know, when I'm actually coherent.
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
and i've been reading a lot about 'sacred geography' lately. i dont feel connected to the landscape here. french landscape is another matter. maybe i'll move there.
i agree with MedusaQ, you should be a writer. i'd read it too. you make me piss my pants with laughter.