The Other Victims of the Holocaust

3rd shift at Arby's isn't as fun as it sounds. We work with minimal staff...four people at the most. So when we get busy, we get busy. But there are always a couple of hours of hardly any customers.


Such as it is, those hours are dedicated to cleaning and joking around.

Last weekend, it was 3 of us working on a Saturday. Myself, Roger, and Chris.

Chris and I share an appreciation for dark humor. Roger, however, does not.

Roger, you see, got back from Iraq a few months ago. Having seen the dark side of human nature has taken a bit out of ol' Rog.

Nothing a little humor could cure, right? That's what we thought to.


The night started out simple, a barrage of dead baby jokes. Such as, "What do you get when you stab a dead baby? An erection!"

Chris and I were having were having some good laughs, Roger just stayed quiet for the most part. At one point, he asked us how we could possibly find humor in dead kids.

I said, "When you chop them up enough, you can find anything."


He certainly didn't like that and went back to his task of cleaning.

We got busy.

Later on when the action died down, we back to joking.

I asked Chris, "What's worse than finding a worm in your apple?"

He didn't know.

I said, "The Holocaust stupid."

He had a good laugh at that but Roger got furious.

He said, "That's it. That's where I draw the line. I can stand here and listen to you two joke about dead babies and minorities, but I won't let you joke about that. My grandmother was in a Concentration Camp."

Well, that brought about some awkward silence.

Finally I said, "I thought you were Catholic."

Roger said, "Yes, I am. But my grandmother was Jewish."

Our joking momentum having been interrupted by Mr. Sensitive Soldier did not sit well we me. I could have dropped the whole thing and moved on, but no. That's not how I roll."

I asked Roger, "How do you fit a hundred Jews into a car?"

Roger just gave me an angry look.

I said, "You dump them in the ashtrays."

Roger threw the pan he was holding to the floor.

Roger screamed, "How dare you! You stand there and make fun of mass genocide. You don't know anything. I want you to stand there and think about all of those families that were ruined and destroyed by that. I want you to stand there, think about that, and still tell me you think it's funny."


That's when I got serious.

I said, "You know Roger, you are right. It was a terrible part of our history. And this is an issue that is sensitive to you. I understand that. All of those Jewish lives that were affected. Yeah, I get it. But you stand there and talk about the Jews, but I doubt you have given any thought about the other victims of the Holocaust."

Roger looked at me, puzzled.

He asked, "Who are you talking about?"

I said, "After the Holocaust was over, there is a group of people that became affected that history tends to ignore. But I haven't forgot about them as you have."

Again, he asked "Who?"

I said, "All of those Germans who lost their jobs."


He looked at me, flabbergasted.

I continued.

"Yeah. All of those Germans who worked at those camps have now found themselves without a job. Think about. Daddy Homburg comes home to his family and says, 'Sorry kids, daddy no longer has job. We must eat the rats now, ya'. You see, I have thought about the Holocaust and and who have suffered. And I have now put a human face on it. Look at that."

Chris and I handled the rest of the night well with just the two of us.

What Freedom Means To Me

My crummy little town decided it was going to have a contest this year. The contest was called "What Freedom Means To Me". It involved coming up with the best idea to represent what freedom represents to the individual(s) entering the contest. You were allowed to enter art projects, skits, videos etc, etc. Whatever your imagination came up with.


I had no intention of entering this contest because I thought it was pure patriotic masturbation. Patriotbation, if you will.

Yep, I was going to steer clear of this until I accidentally overheard what a group of teens were going to to do for the contest.



It was last week. My friend and I were enjoying a meal at the local Applebees, enjoying some onion petals, when we overheard the kids, who were sitting in the booth behind us.

Teen 1: Yeah, it should only take a few days, we got the materials ready and the design plans.
Teen 2: How big are they going to be again?
Teen 3: Ten Feet tall. Except the South Tower, with the antenna on it, it'll be 11.
Teen 2: And about 2 to 3 feet across on all four sides.
Teen 1: I wish my brother could be here to see it. We'll have to take pics.
Teen 3: When's he get back from Iraq?
Teen 1: In a couple months. He'll be real proud of us for building the towers. 9/11 is the reason he joined the army.
Teen 2: That's cool. I don't even care if we win, just doing this makes me glad to be an American.


I gave my friend a stern look. I though for sure he was playing some joke on me, getting these kids to sit across from us. Applebees was his idea. But, I realised that he was as shocked as I was.

I had to put my fork down. The banality of what they were planning to do made me lose my appetite.

I had to butt in. I turned around to talk to them

Me: Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhearing. What exactly are you guys planning to do for this contest?
Teen 1: We are going to build a replica of the World Trade Center Towers.
Me: Why?
Teen 3: Because they are the new symbol of freedom.
Me: How?
Teen 1: Because the world saw on that day that they might be able to destroy our building, they cannot destroy our spirit.


That did it for me. I immediately called for the check and my friend and I got the hell out of there. I vowed shake off what I had just experienced.

However, the serious look on their faces started to haunt my dreams. They had to be taught a lesson.


And so, a plan formed.


I called up my friend and we did some shopping. Then we did some practicing. A week later. We were ready.



We had made sure to enter the contest in the very last second. That made us last to give our presentation.

The presentation was held today, July 4th, in the park. It started at Noon.

By 12:30, I already had half a bottle of Pepto Bismol gone. The entries were absolutely ludicrous.


At 1:30, the teens presented their towers. And sure enough, the towers were as big as they said they were. Of course, they were met with a loud applause.

After they were done showing the towers off and reading their nauseating essay,. they moved the Towers over to the side of the stage that had been set up.


At 2:00, it was time for the final entry.

Ours.


We got on stage. My friend was setting up our little toys and I grabbed the mic.

Me: This is what freedom means to us. The freedom to express out absolute distaste for the absolute crap that has been going on here today. And this is how we express it!

My friend then handed me my remote control.


On the stage he had set up the two remote control airplanes we had purchased the other day. We started em off and they took off the stage. We flew them around in a couple circles. We had rigged 'em up so red, white, and blue smoke plumes would come out of the wings.

The onlookers were perplexed by what I had said, but they were awed by the planes and the pretty colors.

I went up to the mic.

Me: And here it is, ladies and gentlemen. God bless the USA.

We then flew the planes back toward the stage.

But instead of landing them, we crashed them into model of the WTC Towers.

The collective gasp of the crowd was something to behold, and it was our only moment to hightail it out of there before the backlash.


I don't know if we won the contest or not.