Black Booty, Slightly Used…

January 25, 2011 at 1:00 pm (Cussed Dumbers)

This is not about my date Friday night, though it could be described that way. More on that later.

In the spirit of Reuse, Recycle, Re-uh, whatever, I like to do my part. Much like they reuse the pats of butter in fancy restaurants to make Hollandaise sauce, we at Master P’s tend to cut corners when possible to save a few bucks. Uncle Cliffy crushes the garbage down to where it looks like a third-grader is stuffed inside; I condense all the trash into one bag and reuse the other. Lucy takes home cardboard boxes to use as- well, she takes cardboard boxes home and we assume she uses them.

Nothing helps the bottom line like an inattentive customer.

My first encounter with spending-fail came in the form of a twitching, air-guitar playing tweaker dude. He was belting out what sounded like a Sammy Hagar B-side, drumming on candy boxes as he marched toward the Little Debbie’s. He knocked a couple cherry pies onto the floor.

I shouted, “Okay, that’s enough!”

He grabbed a couple Fudge Rounds and returned to the counter. “Sorry, man.” He threw a $5 on the counter, turned and sang the highest notes of the solo to a rack of Tillamook jerky. I counted his $4 change and put it on the counter under his snacks. He finished his vocal solo and walked out the door.

A half-hour later I put the money in my pocket and set the snacks to the side. If he doesn’t return by end of shift, I’ve made two days worth of tips and Master P made 167% profit on snacky cakes.

Later on, an unsettled looking fellow who reminded me of Bluto from Animal House (Belushi, kids) came in. He bought a Faygo. “Aah, Juggalo Juice,” I said, and immediately regretted it. He gave the stoopid “HUNH?” and began bouncing around. (No Juggalo raps, though. Second-rate Hagar karaoke would be my only serenade this night.) He noticed the porno rack and headed straight for it.

“BLACK BOOTY!” He picked up a copy, kissed the cover girl on her namesake body part, and returned to the counter. “How much?”

Devil and angel on each shoulder: He had the opened reader copy. The sealed ones come with a DVD. Something told me he wasn’t buying it for the movie, so I proceeded. “$10.99.” I put it in a bag and waited.

A dollar here, two dollars there. It took about three minutes, but he found eleven single dollar bills in various pockets. He took the magazine out of the bag, squealed something and headed out the door.

A few minutes later I went to check the sidewalk. A hot girl approached, I smiled and said hi. She looked down and that’s when I noticed the copy of Black Booty laying open on the sidewalk. Bluto had removed the centerfold and left the rest. I saw no suspicious fluids on or near, so I retrieved the magazine. I smiled at the girl and said, “Guess we don’t need that laying out there…” I tossed the magazine on the empty bottle bins and rang the girl up. That’s when I noticed Rain standing at the door, smoking a cigarette and smiling.

“Hey baby,” she said. I’ve known Rain from The Avenue for a couple years now. Her birthday and my original get-sober day are the same, and we began talking, and one thing led to another and now we hook up once in a while. She’s moved away from the store, but lives close enough that I can hop a MAX and be at her place in five minutes. (I’ve been having a lot of tasty lunches lately.) She drops by once in a while, sometimes to borrow five bucks for cigarettes, other times just to give a hug and tease me a little. This was a social visit.

“May I have a hug, Miss Ma’am?”

“Yes you may,” she said. She met me in front of the porno rack, and saw the copy of Black Booty lying there. “Man, you didn’t get enough the other night? You got the fever, honey.” She backed up into me and gave a circular move. It was the magic moment of the night.

She stuck a hand in my money pocket, and when it came out empty she said, “You too? I hate the end of the month. I still need to get my phone bill paid. Come see me?”

“As long as I don’t have to spend my whole lunch hour trying to sneak into your building.” Without the aforementioned phone, getting into her building is akin to being a Watergate burglar.

She wandered off to the MAX, and I returned to my work station. I put the copy of Black Booty up behind the others; it’s already been paid for once, and if I can’t beat Rain’s security system I have something to “read” should I require a ‘Giggles moment”.

I guess it’s all about the Bottom line…

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