Sentenced to life, With No Possibility of Little Debbies

April 17, 2007 at 1:20 am (Cussed Dumbers)

Cruel and unusual punishment? I think not.

In my line of work, one wears many hats. Cashier, security guard, babysitter, emergency medic, psychologist. It’s a great job for people-watching, and I see the best and worst.

Most people behave, buy their stuff and go. We accommodate a lot of street people, as well as night-clubbers and rich types. We tolerate a lot of crap, but there are a few things that are unacceptable. Theft is the biggest reason people get 86ed. Assault, physical or verbal, will get you tossed. Spit on us and we will beat your ass. (And use cleaning fluids on your mucous membranes while we’re at it.) But mostly, we just yell a lot and call the cops.

Earlier this evening, I was visited by Elmo, one of my favorite co-workers. We look enough alike that drunk people confuse us for each other. Of course, this leads to mischief, and Elmo works it as much or more, and often better, than I do. I can be having the shittiest night, and he can walk in, and within a minute and a half I am giggling like Paris Hilton on acid.

Tonight, Elmo is transferring buses, and stops by to use the bathroom. (I got a job there, specifically so I’d have a place to take a leak when downtown…) He emerges from the back, and has a minute, so we compare notes. “Dude,” he says, “I just had the weirdest encounter on the bus.”

“Tell me more, keemosabe.” The Porno Queen, who stocks the magazine racks twice a week, and works for us another three days a week, comes closer to hear.

“So, I’m on the 23rd Avenue bus,” Elmo begins, “and it’s crowded as hell. This guy and his dog get on, and he recognizes me. It’s cool, I say hi, then he crams himself in next to me. He’s like five foot two, and two fiddy. And his little dog stinks.

“Keep in mind, there are office worker types on the bus. He proceeds to brag about how he’s 86ed from all our stores. I figured it was the dog, but he shows me service-animal paperwork. No, he says, he was kicked out for sexually assaulting a customer.”

A bell goes off in my head. “Is the dog a little coal-black thing, with a racially insensitive name?”

“Yeah. He needs to wash that dog,” said Elmo.

“That’s Roosevelt! I’m the one who kicked him out! I put up with his damn dog, him coming in with a tee shirt tied around his neck, saying “Technically I’m wearing a shirt!’ and just being a pain in the ass in general. But what he did to that lady was uncalled for.”

“That’s the funny part,” says Elmo. “He’s talking loud, people are squirming, and then he proceeds to tell me all about what he ‘supposedly’ did. He says, ‘The guy claimed I rubbed up against a lady in a sexual way. That’s not possible! I only have a one-inch dick! And that’s when it’s hard!’ Dude, you should have seen the people on the bus. I think they would have crawled up their own asses to get away from this conversation.”

Porno Queen and I look at each other. “Weren’t you here?” I ask her.

“I was at lunch when it happened. But I got to explain to him why he was 86ed a few days later. That was fun…”

“Yeah, it was a hot summer day, like a hundred degrees outside. He was walking by, looked in, and there was an attractive gal with a skimpy outfit on. He stopped, got this funny look on his face, and marched right in. He walked past her, stopped, announced loudly that he’d forgot his wallet, and turned to leave. On the way back out, he said, ‘Excuse me!’ and rubbed up against her butt, pardon the pun, doggy style.” I grab a stand-alone Snickers display and demonstrate, complete with wagging tongue. Elmo is in hysterics, and PQ shudders visibly. “She didn’t freak out as badly as I did, but it upset her. Roosevelt’s probation officer was outside, and came in asking why *he* was so upset. After I told her, she took him to her office for some kind of official chastisement.

“He rallied hard to be let back in. He even offered to show Grinder his penis. As evidence, I guess.”

Grinder McV, our supervisor, is openly gay and a self-proclaimed slut. And he would have no part of it. “That’s not an image I could shake,” I believe he said.

So Rosie is no longer welcome. There are many others, but most don’t have as colorful a story as Roosevelt.

Attention shoppers! Be nice to your cashier, keep your hands visible, and no molesting the other customers.

Or I will 86 you, and your little dog too…

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