Xmas Comes Slowly This Year…

December 26, 2016 at 5:10 pm (The Easy Chair)


…But it comes!

I have most of the stuff I really need. I have a lot of stuff I want, or can get it without much effort. What I’ve wanted this year are not material goods. Peace in my soul and mind cannot be bought. While not in distress, I’ve felt better mentally.

I need a hug. Preferably from an old friend. Do Christmas wishes come true? Since Monday is also considered Christmas this year, I have until midnight to find out.

I try to get major holidays off, Christmas and Thanksgiving anyway. It’s deathly slow, and the only customers are the mutant scum that aren’t allowed in the rest of the year. “Can’t I come in today? It’s Christmas and it’s cold?”

“Go worship your deities in another doorway, please?” We’ve been told to run off campers, panhandlers and anyone leaving a mess. It adds a Grinch-like feel to the holiday, and I have gotten to where I don’t care. I’m nicer than most about it, and since Eva Braun is now my manager, I will do what I can to make her look as good as possible. She even bought us a hose.

Some of the folks I had to run off Christmas Eve?

The lady with Grape Nuts glued to her face who wanted to use the bathroom. Are those Grape Nuts? I couldn’t tell, but it looked like golden gravel on both cheeks. She was wearing a jumpsuit, and had crazy in her eyes. She seemed to understand when I told her I couldn’t let her in the back.

My first encounter of the day, before any sale, was a Native American male doing the meth-dance shuffle. Picking and thrashing, I tol’ him to git!

There was a slow parade of whiny junkie thieves who made attempts at free snacks. Three bags of mini-cookies out of the pants of one. For once I was glad he let his pants droop. Less chance for offensive contact.

The next thieving piece of shit actually looked like his description. His hoody was a dirty mustard color, and I confiscated three large bags of gummies. He tried stealing a Rockstar on the way out, but I came at him with the full intent of shoving him through the door. The closed door. He put the energy drink on top of the cooler and left of his own propulsion.

The woman with cat’s eye glasses who spent $62 on lottery scratch-offs as gifts. She was full of annoying questions until her male companion, who looked and sounded like the old World’s Most Interesting Man, asked me, “Do you have any $20 tickets? Give me one!” He handed it to her and said, “Let’s go, mama.” At that point she pulled out her own money and went crazy.

Old white guy from the neighborhood. He’s a registered sex offender, but seems harmless. He’s in his late 60s, I’d guess. He wears black lens nerd glasses and a ballcap over long white hair. I have never seen him without the hat on. He also has a shit-colored jacket, but his doesn’t come from filth. They are the same clothes he’s been wearing for years, but he does wash them. He took his place in front of me, and went on a five-minute tirade about manners and generations. “I remember when it was ‘Please and thank you,’ nowadays it’s ‘Piss off and fuck you!'” He went on for a while, and I let him. It encouraged people to hurry up with their purchases, and he didn’t find it rude that I didn’t make them wait.

During a deep-breath moment before heading back into work, I was taking a hit on my vapor pen. One of the neighbors, a somewhat squirrely dude with penitentiary written all over him, walked up and offered me his vapor pipe.

“Thanks, but I have had enough. I have to be able to think when I go back in. This is a CBD pen, mostly just kills pain.”

“Oh, I was going to see if you’d trade me for a pack of cigarettes?”

I took a closer look. It had an almost-unused full-gram cartridge made by one of my favorite companies, Select Strains. A sticker said hybrid, but there were no other clues as to strain. Who cares? “Hell yeah,” I told him. I cashed in a cigarette coupon, paid off Neighbor, and took a hit. Sweet honey vapors, and a warm-body feeling in the legs. Thank you, Santa.

As the end of Xmas Monday came to a close, I heard a chirp on my computer. It was a FB message from Mizelle. I hadn’t heard from her in over a year, and she is in town. Would I like to go to Indian buffet tonight?

Why yes, yes I would.

Xmas made.

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