“King in the Castle, King in the Castle…”

July 10, 2008 at 12:45 pm (Cussed Dumbers)

So, where have I been, you ask?

In a word, working.

Today makes the tenth straight day. A sudden wave of firings and no-shows left the boss short of folk during our busiest time of the year, so I’ve been getting full time-plus.

It hasn’t been too much of a grind. I’d come off five days impromptu vcation, so I was well-rested. But patience for my fellow man is wearing thin. It’s a good thing it’s my metaphoric Friday.

I worked the Waterfront store on 4th of July, and set the record for sales on a single till. (Without lottery factored in. When the jackpots are big, numbers add up fast.) I was hustling beer, bottled water and canned food like the apocalypse was coming. There were maybe an accumulated five minutes where I wasn’t waiting on someone. I prayed for credit cards, so I could stand still and take deep breaths while waiting for them to approve. It seemed like any typical business holiday, (we work while everyone plays, ka-ching!) but when the boss checked my paper work? “My GAWD. Do you know how much you did? And I haven’t even added in the credit cards yet! You are still the king, my friend.”

I may be one of the old guys on the job, but I kicked the collective asses of my whippersnapper co-workers.

I had a fair amount of fun with an old customer who constantly confuses me with Chuckles. She knew him when he was much smaller physically, and met me when I was much bigger. She’d come by, flirt a little, call me Chuckles and then I’d gently correct her for the umpteenth time. This happened again the other night. She’d wandered in after having a few cocktails around the corner, flirt, repeat. I corrected her, and it looked like it set in this time.

“Oh… That explains a few things. I thought you’d lost weight and had a complete change of outlook and philosophy.” She apologized, turned to leave, then stopped, leaned over and whispered, “I think I keep coming back because I have a crush on you.”

“Cool!” I replied.

Before I could slip into swayve and deboner character, she said, “Now I’m embarrassed!” and ran out the door. I thought of giving chase, but she had a head start, and people were milling about the porno. Dang.

Then it occurred to me, I’m having a Borat kind of day. “King in the castle, king in the castle…” I could have chased a girl named Pamela (who looks more like Borat’s escort GF) across town, I’d been eating Turkish food provided by a fellow who looks like a physically fit Azumat, and had probably offended at least one customer with inappropriate comments uttered before I realized they were within earshot.

Verry nice-uh.

Today, the work part ends. What do I have to look forward to? Laundry. I’m wearing my ‘Never loan your clothes to Biggie Smalls’ tee-shirt, the one with torn sleeves and what looks like five bullet holes in the front. I have a hot date with a hot barber, my hair is almost an inch long! (Gud-damn hippie!) I have a free dinner coming from the aforementioned Turkish fellow, but may postpone if this horrible toothache doesn’t go away.

Saturday? Beating the heat is the only thing on the agenda. Maybe I’ll park it in front of the fan and write a bunch, or sit out in the yard, under a tree, letting the kids take turns spraying me with the hose.

Hmm, that sounds like fun. Anyone seen my lime-green slingshot Speedo?

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