Fired

Some of you people would say I've had this coming, and you may be right, but my firing yesterday was uncalled for. And believe you me, I will be fighting it.

For one thing, the incident happened while I was on my break.

This happened at the fast food joint I part time at.


I go on break and decide to take my lunch out in the lobby. I sat down at a table by one of the windows.

As I'm sitting there, I see a car drive by. As it passed my window, the driver flicked a out a cigarette.

The cigarette happened to land in one of the bushes that are planted all along the windows. A nice neat row of them.

As I sat there eating, I noticed some smoke starting to rise from the bush. I really didn't think anything about.

Until I saw some flames.

The bush had caught on fire.


I took another bite of my sandwich as I watched the bush burn. Soon enough, the bush next to it caught fire as well.


Nothing like a good show to watch while you're eating.

I took a look at my watch and started to keep track on how fast these bushes were catching fire. I took a look around and made sure to map out my exit strategy..just in case the building should happen to go up in flames as well.

And let's be honest, I was kinda hoping that would be the case.


I was almost finished with my lunch by the time the whole row of bushes had caught fire. Finally somebody else had noticed what was happening.

They shouted out, "Holy crap, it's on fire!"

I silently applauded his skills of observation. Moments later, two of my coworkers ran out, dumping buckets of water onto the fire.

My boos had come running up beside me, she was talking on the phone with the fire department. When she was done talking to them, she turned to me.

She said, "what have you been doing this whole time the bushes were on fire?"

I said, "Eating my lunch."

She asked, "And you didn't think of telling anybody?"

I said, "I would have, but I'm on break."

Then she spouts out, "Not only did you put the store in jeopardy, you put all of our lives in jeopardy."

I replied, "Look, it's not like I started the fire. I can assure you, if I had, I would have made sure to tie you all up first."


Half an hour later, after the firetrucks left, she had my termination papers written up.

I refused to sign them.

Bipolar Disorder

When you work a crappy job, you pretty much have to subscribe to the reality that during those hours you are working, you are no longer "alive". You are just a zombie.





Especially if you work in public service.





But during those hours, you are always on the lookout for something to latch onto, something that will remind you that there is something to live for outside of the hell you were hired onto.



Whether it be mundane conversations with coworkers you would not normally hang out with, or oogling the fine ladies that come into your store. Any hint of something better than you current position is a welcome.



This goes double when you are on the lookout to find a new lady to bring into your life.





Such was the case with me not too long ago.





A new girl was hired on to work the night shifts, which I happen to be a manage on some nights. When I saw her, it was like a breath of fresh air. Some real eye candy this one was. Which was a much welcome relief, because the women I have been working with made me start to wonder f nature had introduced the beasts to quell the human population. Yes, they are that ugly.





Anyway, after working a couple of days with this girl, I got to know her a little better. Nice attitude, got along with everybody.



After a few days, I decided to make my move.



I went up to her, and said, "Hey, if you're not doing anything after work tonight, you want to go grab a bite to eat with me?"





She blushed a little and said she would have to think about it.



That's fine. A couple hours passed and I decided to ask her again.



This time I got a completely different reaction.



I asked her, "Have you thought about it yet?"



Her face got deep red...and not from blushing.



She screamed out, "Why do you keep bugging me about this? Huh? Why don't you just leave me alone and quit harassing me!



Now, she screamed this out so loud, everybody, and I do mean everybody, in the store is looking at us. I just stood there, like a deer in headlights, I didn't know what to do or say. Her reaction had caught me completely off guard. After I recovered from my frozen state, I quickly walked away from her.



I had never been so embarrassed in my life.



And that's not something I easily forgive.





I pulled one of the workers into the manager's office.



I said to him, "Mark, what the hell is the deal with that psycho bitch?"



Mark said, "I don't know, but I'll find out for you."



He left the office and I sat in there deciding what to do next. Not only was I turned down for a date, but she also metaphorically castrated me in front of everybody. I had to deal with this bitch, had to get rid of her somehow.



A few minutes later, Mark came back into the office.



Mark said, "Well, you won't believe this, she's bipolar."





A light bulb went off in my head.





The next morning, I had a little chat with my boss, who told me that I should come to him if I had any problems with my employees on the night shift.





This is what I said to him, "I have some concerns with the new girl. Last night, I had asked her to do something. Later on when I asked her about it again, she blew up in my face. I come to find out she has this bipolar disorder. So, you see my concern about her being around the customers."



The boss said he was afraid that this might happen and he told me he would deal with it. And he did.



He canned her Norman Bates ass.

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."