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.

Food Stamps

I had to run some errands in town today. While doing this, I managed to come across something that caught my eye. Something I knew I could use to have some really good fun.

For the fun to begin, I had to find some poor white trash chick. And like most of the white trash bitches in this country, the ones around my town are the kind that pump out kid after kid, are on welfare, and only date Mexicans or black dudes.

But that didn't matter. It really wasn't important for the task at hand.

I cruised around the poor section of town for a good half hour 'till I spotted the perfect broke slut to spring my trap on.


I got out of my jeep and went up to her.

"Excuse me, miss." I said, holding back laughter.

She said, "Yeah, What choo want?"

I pulled an envelope out of my pocket.

I said, "Now, I'm going to venture a guess here and say you are probably on food stamps."

She said, "Yeah, I am. What's it to you?"

I said, "It just so happens, I have got several food stamps in this here envelope. And they can be all yours."

She asked, "What do I got to do?"

I smiled and said, "Let's not fool ourselves here. You've probably have had more dicks in you than a glory hole in the restroom at some gay bar. So, one little blowjob from you to me shouldn't be a big deal."

She asked, "How much choo got in there. I gots kids to feed."

I asked, "How many kids do you have?"

She said, "Just the two."

I said, "Trust me, there are plenty of food stamps in here."

We headed over to an alley and she performed her duties.

After she cleaned up, she took the envelope from me.

She opened it up and looked inside and saw the food stamps.


Or should I say, the postage stamps that had food on them. I saw them when I went to the Post Office.

She looked at them and asked, "What the fuck is this?"

I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Food stamps." I turned around and walked away.

As I was walking off, I heard one of her kids ask, "Mommy, do we get something to eat too?"

Never Give Rides To Co-Workers 4

I was happy today.

I got up, after a 4 hour sleep, but it felt like it was 8. It was raining outside...and as the Garbage song goes, "I'm only happy when it rains."

I had to work the lunch shift at Arby's today. And things were running smooth for a change. Nothing stressful happened..just smooth running.

10 minutes before my shift was over, the drive-thru girl came over to ask me a question.

Can I give her a lift home?


Now...in the past, I've given rides to co-workers just to be nice and those have always ended up bad for somebody, so now I've made it a rule not to give any rides to co-workers unless they are hot and there was a chance of some sort of sexual payment.

I broke the rules today.

She was not attractive and gawd knows there would be no sexual payment for this ride home, let alone any monetary payment, unless I wanted food stamps.


But, I was in a good mood, so I thought, "Eh, what could it hurt".


And of course, I would find out exactly what it would hurt.

After our shift was over, we get in my Cherokee take off, and then she drops the bomb on me:

We have to pick up her kids.



The happiness that I was feeling melted away like the skin of the Nazi's at the end of Raiders Of The Lost Ark.


I don;t say anything though, I just nod. The dark cloud that was brewing within my had prevented me from saying anything, but that little voice, the one I usually ignore was saying: "It'll be ok."

Boy was he wrong.


We go to her babysitters.

She goes in to get them and I stay out in the jeep comptemplating on whether or not to take off and leave her there.

I shake my head and mentally kick myself for staying.

She comes out with her two brats and they are already throwing a fit.

She gets them in and gets in herself say, "I'm sorry they were watching their favorite show and didn't want to leave."

I just nodded.

She tells me where she lives and I head over there.

And a few moments later...it happened.

And when it did, I let out a yell so loud and powerful, the people in the car in front of us turned around to look.



One of her little insects puked on my seat.


She began to apologize, but it was too late for her.

She said she would clean it up but I just looked over at her and said, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."


And that's when I moved my fingers over the little control console on my door and lowered the passenger side and backseat windows.


Immediately her and her brats began to be soaked and she screamed, "What in the hell are you doing!"


I said I was cleaning up the mess.

She screamed at me to roll up her windows but I did not.

We get to her house she jumps out the door, gets her kids out, and screams at me, "If they get pneumonia, I'm going to sue your ass!".



I hope her lawyer takes food stamps.

Mistaken Identity

This happened several years ago...



I'm lying in bed, trying to get to sleep.

Then something beyond belief happened.



A very drunk woman came stumbling into my room. I began to speak out to the woman, but my curiosity to see what the woman would do silenced me.

She then climbed onto my bed. I leaned up, watching this woman inch her way toward midsection.

She pulled off my covers and began to unzip my fly.


I let this happen.


She then pulled out my Raging Red Rocket and looked up at me and said, "You ready for this Dan?"

My name is Richard.


She then starts the sucking.


Well, I let this go on for a minute or two...who really knows, but I started feeling a bit bad for letting this drunken broad think she's syphoning sperm on someone she knows.


So I spoke up and said...




"Mom, your room is across the hall."

Doing Something Nice For a Change

I took a look at my life, some of the things I've done and decided that maybe I needed to get some professional help.

So I went to see a shrink and told him that I might have a severe anti-social disorder.

We talksed about it and he thought that I might get joy out of offending people.

He suggested that I do something really nice for a complete stranger. He thought that I might find that get even more joy out of making people happy.

I decided to take him up on that, after all..he is the expert.

I had a hard time getting started so I ask him for some suggestions,

He told me that I should find somebody I could relate with on an emotional level. He told me I should find somebody who didn't know their biological parents....I do not know mine.

I thought that was a good idea so I went to city funded foster home or whatever the hell it is.


The place was strangly comfprting to me as I had lived there for the first three months of my life.

I told the lady in charge that day my reasons for being there.


She brought me to Sarah.


Sarah was this 10 year old, cute as a button, orphan.

Her parents died in a car crash when she was 10 months old and she had no immediate family to go to.


She was reading a Harry Potter novel, and being a fan of the books myself, that was the thing to break the ice.


I bonded with her well...she was like the little sister I never had. We talked about Harry Potter, Star Wars, and music.


I told my shrink about befriending a total stranger.

I told him I liked the feeling of being nice to this girl but it just didn't seem enough.

He suggested I do something extraordianry for her.


The next day, I asked her what would make her the happiest girl in the world.


She said she wanted a picture of her parents.


I thought it was strange that she didn't have any picture, so I asked the lady in charge at the FH about it.


She said Sarah's parents were the odd type and didn't have any photo albums...not even any of Sarah after her birth.



I vowed to Sarah I would find a photo of them.



It took a few days of searching...but I finally found one.


I brought it to Sarah, telling her I found a photo of them and I handed it to her...she looked at it and the tears filled her eyes.


She didn't say thanks...she didn't have to. The look on her face was thanks enough.



It felt real good doing this and I no longer need to see a shrink.



Oh, if you're curious..the picture of her parents is here.

Death at Work

Some people have the problem of never thinking before they speak. Now, those who know me, would say I have the same problem.

I disagree. You see, I have no problem with saying what's on my mind. And If someone should be hurt by my words, well then, that's life.

I'll give you an example, this happened at work the other day.


Last week, this girl I work with lost her mother in car accident.


Then, the other day at work, I saw my coworker Daniel, putting on his jacket and getting his stuff. Which was odd, because he had just got to work an hour before.


I yelled at him, "Where the fuck do you think you're going, Danny-boy?"


He gave me a dirty look.


For some mad reason, I decided to ask him, "Well then, who made who?"

He then started to cry and left.



I didn't know what was going on, so I asked the boss.

He said Daniel's father just died.



Knowing that information, my mind went over the encounter I had just had with Daniel. I gave out a hearty laugh.


I then said, "Damn, people's parents are dropping like flies around here".

My boss's mouth dropped open. And then I heard more crying.

I had completely forgot that the girl whose mother had died had come back to work that day.

Not one to be daunted by how other's feel about me, I decided there was no harm in giving the girl something really to cry about.

I said, "Well, we wouldn't be having this epidemic if some people's parents weren't steering the wheel while steering a bottle of Jim Bean to their mouths."

The girl took off towards the bathroom. Not even the walls could quiet the cries we heard.

By this time, the whole place is staring at me.

I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Eh. My parents are still alive."