Night is a lonely period. Filled with smokers and binge drinkers, I often find that the store is a peaceful place where I can be alone with my thoughts and the cash register. Sometimes, when I am working nights I will think to myself, "What would happen if I was the only person in the store when something devastating happened?" Here's the story I concocted:
SlimShaney was an artsy, good looking kid who had grown up on the streets of Redar Capids (I've obviously changed the city to protect my identity). Five years ago, he had been recruited by the FBI and trained in all things martial arts related. He could count on seven hands the number of people he's killed if each of his seven hands had seven fingers because of a birth defect. Sadly, he didn't have seven hands with seven fingers each, so he had to settle for counting the number in his head. He had run off from the FBI two years ago and was now working in a local grocery store called Freddy's. No one had ever found him....until now.
It was a quiet, dark night and the wind hissed like an angry cat who had just been dropped in a bucket of water. A man walked into the store wearing a black trenchcoat and dark hat that covered his eyes. He immediately went to SlimShaney's register and grabbed some gum. "This all for ya' tonight, sir?" Slimshaney asked with the politeness of three hundred British butlers. "I guess there's one more thing you could do for me....you could DIE!" The man pulled out a machine gun from his oversized trenchcoat and fired away at SlimShaney, but he was too fast. SS threw the gum straight at the man's eye and ran for customer service. The assassin grasped at his eye in agony. "Butt-Whooping to Customer Service please," SS called out over the intercom.
Luckily, there was a bag of flour in the Go-Back section. SS took the flour and threw it everywhere. He ran straight for the man who was trying to kill him. How brave! The next five minutes, the two men engaged in an intense karate battle that could have been featured in some sort of Jackie Chan vs. Godzilla battle movie. Eventually, they ended up in aisle five (the one with all the cereal). The two exchanged puns like world-class punmakers. "I'm gonna Crunch-a-Tize you, captain! I'm more than good....I'm great! They're always after me lucky arms!" Making their way into the parking lot, SS grabbed a cart and pushed it around the white lines. The assassin had obviously been in this situation before, because he pushed his cart like an expert. Still, SS being 8-time employee of the month knew his way around the parking lot. He cornered the man next to the salt bags. There, SlimShaney had placed a bomb in case anything like this ever happened. The assassin was startled when SS began running away from the salt bags and took a moment to bask in his glory. SS had just enough time for one witty pun: "Salt and Pepper? More like Salt and Bombs." Not his best one, but it worked. The bags of slat exploded in a fiery-
Then it was ten. My shift was over. I left.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
How I Learned that Beards are Stupid...
Three beards for the three homeless men that live under the bridge.
Seven for the struggling writers who seem to be writing their dissertations for quite a long time...
Nine for the Mortal Men who think beards make them look "cool" and "sophisticated.
One for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his snake.
In the land of No-Shaving where the five o'clock shadows lie.
One beard to rule them all. One beard to find them.
One beard to grow forever and in the morning, shave them.
In theLand of Hogwarts
This beard belongs to a man of pure beauty. A man who defies boundaries and pushes limits. A man that doesn't have to prove himself. This man is none other than the great Albus Dumbledore. His flowing, luxurious white beard hangs down from his face like a monkey hangs gracefully from a tree branch (except, in this case, Dumbledore's beard is well picked and free of bugs).
I, SlimShaney, once tried to grow out a beard. It was....unsuccessful. I figured that I would grow out a goatee. Once it had grown long enough, I noticed that goats were following me everywhere! I tried to run, but their leader, Ba-Ba Black Goat, cornered me in a dark alleyway. He told me, if I didn't shave off my goatee, they would have to do it for me. I panicked. What was I to do? I couldn't shave off my goatee! I loved it! So, I did the only thing I could think of, I used magic. I cast a spell that made my beard invisible to the human/goat eye. The next day, the goats came to my house. "Where's your beard?" said Ba-Ba Black Goat. "I shaved it off. I'm done with facial hair." They didn't believe me. Black Goat grabbed my face and felt that I still had my goatee. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed my mother. He put his mouth up to her neck and said, "If you don't shave off that beard, I'm going to bite her. Rabies ain't somethin' you wanna mess with, kid." Again, I did the only thing I knew how to do. I pulled out my wand, cast a deadly spell, and suddenly, guts were flying everywhere! I narrowly dodged the tongue of one of the goats as it raced past my head. My mother was soaked in goat blood. We embraced in our slimy, putrid clothes and began to collect the shattered remains of the goats I had killed. That night, as we sat around the table, thinking about what had happened, I asked my mom, "Do you like my goatee?" She merely shoved some goat meat in her mouth and said, "No."
And that is why beards are stupid.
Seven for the struggling writers who seem to be writing their dissertations for quite a long time...
Nine for the Mortal Men who think beards make them look "cool" and "sophisticated.
One for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his snake.
In the land of No-Shaving where the five o'clock shadows lie.
One beard to rule them all. One beard to find them.
One beard to grow forever and in the morning, shave them.
In the
This beard belongs to a man of pure beauty. A man who defies boundaries and pushes limits. A man that doesn't have to prove himself. This man is none other than the great Albus Dumbledore. His flowing, luxurious white beard hangs down from his face like a monkey hangs gracefully from a tree branch (except, in this case, Dumbledore's beard is well picked and free of bugs).
I, SlimShaney, once tried to grow out a beard. It was....unsuccessful. I figured that I would grow out a goatee. Once it had grown long enough, I noticed that goats were following me everywhere! I tried to run, but their leader, Ba-Ba Black Goat, cornered me in a dark alleyway. He told me, if I didn't shave off my goatee, they would have to do it for me. I panicked. What was I to do? I couldn't shave off my goatee! I loved it! So, I did the only thing I could think of, I used magic. I cast a spell that made my beard invisible to the human/goat eye. The next day, the goats came to my house. "Where's your beard?" said Ba-Ba Black Goat. "I shaved it off. I'm done with facial hair." They didn't believe me. Black Goat grabbed my face and felt that I still had my goatee. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed my mother. He put his mouth up to her neck and said, "If you don't shave off that beard, I'm going to bite her. Rabies ain't somethin' you wanna mess with, kid." Again, I did the only thing I knew how to do. I pulled out my wand, cast a deadly spell, and suddenly, guts were flying everywhere! I narrowly dodged the tongue of one of the goats as it raced past my head. My mother was soaked in goat blood. We embraced in our slimy, putrid clothes and began to collect the shattered remains of the goats I had killed. That night, as we sat around the table, thinking about what had happened, I asked my mom, "Do you like my goatee?" She merely shoved some goat meat in her mouth and said, "No."
And that is why beards are stupid.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
I Don't Care if She Wears Adult Diapers....She's Beautiful...
It's happened. My life is complete. I can die in peace because finally, I am loved. An old woman at Freddy's told me today that I am a very attractive boy. YES! Too long have I waited in the shadows behind the more attractive male workers of Freddy's! Too long have my charming good looks escaped the eyes of the Grannies that crawl through our store! Too long have I pondered the reason these cranky shrews refuse to recognize my beauty! I am beautiful! I am strong! I am a very attractive boy! YAY!
Let me tell you a story. One day, quite a while ago, when I was still a lowly bagger, A woman came through my line. She reminded me of my own grandma without the can of Pringles in one hand and the cigarette in the other. The woman slowly put her groceries on the conveyor belt with the precision of an elephant dropping apples on the ground. She took one look at the male cashier who was working and said, "Oh my! You're a very handsome boy!" For the next five minutes she continued to flirt with this obviously underage boy. "Alright, Mrs. Robinson, let's keep it moving," I thought to myself. Still, I couldn't help but wonder about what this woman might say to me. Granted, I was younger than the cashier and my muscles looked twig-like compared with his, but I have a nice-looking face. It's nothing extraordinarily special, but I felt confident the woman would at least feel obliged to say, "Oh! Two handsome men in one aisle? It must be my lucky day!" Instead, once she unglued her eyes from the boy who gave her the receipt, she proceeded to look at me, scan me over, and say, "Paper bags, please." I crushed her eggs. On purpose.
So, now you know why I was so excited to be loved by this lovely, old woman. What makes it even better is that this woman was older than the one who had scarred me. If that nasty wrinkle-bag had been a cougar, then my admirer must have been at least a cheetah or one of the older cats in the animal kingdom. Therefore, I win. I should enter a contest where old ladies choose the suitor they would like. It will be the next hit reality show. So long, Bachelor, hello, Cougarette or The Amazing Race....To the Grave (I couldn't choose between the two titles. They're both so catchy).
Let me tell you a story. One day, quite a while ago, when I was still a lowly bagger, A woman came through my line. She reminded me of my own grandma without the can of Pringles in one hand and the cigarette in the other. The woman slowly put her groceries on the conveyor belt with the precision of an elephant dropping apples on the ground. She took one look at the male cashier who was working and said, "Oh my! You're a very handsome boy!" For the next five minutes she continued to flirt with this obviously underage boy. "Alright, Mrs. Robinson, let's keep it moving," I thought to myself. Still, I couldn't help but wonder about what this woman might say to me. Granted, I was younger than the cashier and my muscles looked twig-like compared with his, but I have a nice-looking face. It's nothing extraordinarily special, but I felt confident the woman would at least feel obliged to say, "Oh! Two handsome men in one aisle? It must be my lucky day!" Instead, once she unglued her eyes from the boy who gave her the receipt, she proceeded to look at me, scan me over, and say, "Paper bags, please." I crushed her eggs. On purpose.
So, now you know why I was so excited to be loved by this lovely, old woman. What makes it even better is that this woman was older than the one who had scarred me. If that nasty wrinkle-bag had been a cougar, then my admirer must have been at least a cheetah or one of the older cats in the animal kingdom. Therefore, I win. I should enter a contest where old ladies choose the suitor they would like. It will be the next hit reality show. So long, Bachelor, hello, Cougarette or The Amazing Race....To the Grave (I couldn't choose between the two titles. They're both so catchy).
Monday, January 17, 2011
Cheetos
On Saturday, our show choir season began. It was the most exciting experience ever. Let me tell you how it went down. First, we arrived early in the morning so that we could all watch our freshman group perform. They did a good job (it was their first competition so I wasn't really expecting a lot, but they actually sang and danced very well). Next, we watched our prep group perform and they were awesome! I had watched several groups before them and, to me; they were the only ones that really blew me away. The sound system that the competition used was very effective and caught their sound extremely well. It was obvious after watching the prep groups that they would take home Grand Champion.
Finally, at 3:20, it was our turn to perform. During the warm up, our director talked about how well our prep group had done in laying the path for our school. All we had to do now was walk down it. Everyone could feel it when we were warming up that it was going to be a great show. Once I got on stage and heard the roar of the crowd before us, I couldn't help but be ecstatic. Our first two songs were great. You could tell that the audience really enjoyed them and everything went smoothly (except I always have a minor problem with my dance partner's dress tear-off). Then, we got to our ballad. In our ballad we constantly work up to this big climax of the song. During that time, there is a beautiful solo from one of our guys. On the last chord, the applause was just amazing and by the time the song was over, everyone was on their feet. Tears almost started to fall from my face, I was so happy. The rest of the show went great, even though we lost a little bit of energy in the closer.
I want to describe the other schools, but in the interest of my own safety, I will change their names. At this competition, the two greatest schools in terms of competition were Fritos and Doritos. Fritos is a school in our town that was very good last year. They won several competitions last year, but it was rumored that they went to a lot of easy competitions. Doritos is the best. Last year, they went undefeated, because their show was just incredible. After day rounds, we were in second! We were ahead of Fritos and behind Doritos. Everyone was pumped. We hoped that maybe we would be the group that finally beat Doritos. Our finals performance was good. Personally, I thought it was weaker than the day show, but our director thought it was brilliant.
In the end, we ended up maintaining our first runner-up status. Would we have loved to get first? Yes, but we got second! And we beat Fritos! It was amazing and I can just tell that this is going to be a great season. We are Cheetos!
Finally, at 3:20, it was our turn to perform. During the warm up, our director talked about how well our prep group had done in laying the path for our school. All we had to do now was walk down it. Everyone could feel it when we were warming up that it was going to be a great show. Once I got on stage and heard the roar of the crowd before us, I couldn't help but be ecstatic. Our first two songs were great. You could tell that the audience really enjoyed them and everything went smoothly (except I always have a minor problem with my dance partner's dress tear-off). Then, we got to our ballad. In our ballad we constantly work up to this big climax of the song. During that time, there is a beautiful solo from one of our guys. On the last chord, the applause was just amazing and by the time the song was over, everyone was on their feet. Tears almost started to fall from my face, I was so happy. The rest of the show went great, even though we lost a little bit of energy in the closer.
I want to describe the other schools, but in the interest of my own safety, I will change their names. At this competition, the two greatest schools in terms of competition were Fritos and Doritos. Fritos is a school in our town that was very good last year. They won several competitions last year, but it was rumored that they went to a lot of easy competitions. Doritos is the best. Last year, they went undefeated, because their show was just incredible. After day rounds, we were in second! We were ahead of Fritos and behind Doritos. Everyone was pumped. We hoped that maybe we would be the group that finally beat Doritos. Our finals performance was good. Personally, I thought it was weaker than the day show, but our director thought it was brilliant.
In the end, we ended up maintaining our first runner-up status. Would we have loved to get first? Yes, but we got second! And we beat Fritos! It was amazing and I can just tell that this is going to be a great season. We are Cheetos!
Not Everything is Exciting in Slow Motion
At work, there are certain types of people that you hope will not come through your line. They are the ones that terrorize you in a way that is only imaginable in James Bond movies. When they come through your line, your heart doesn't beat faster, they actually have the ability to make it move slower (eventually you might die from lack of blood circulation). Most people know that they should avoid this type of behavior, but others feel it is their right as the customer. They are: slow people.
I hate slow people. First, they come through your line with a wide variety of assorted groceries. Then, they place them each on the conveyor belt one by one until they have been properly sorted. This way, I, the unreliable checker, will not somehow put her eggs under her 20 pound turkey (like I haven't had weeks of training for that). Next, when I scan their groceries, we find out that they did not get a price on the almonds in the Organic section. So, I call over a manager and ask her to kindly go check it out. Then comes the awkward silence. I realize I should be an expert at silences, but I do not want to risk any of his/her slowness rubbing off on me. Once the manager returns, I scan through everything and it is time to pay.
Paying is the worst. If they pay with a check, I have to stand there and watch them find the checkbook in their purse, search for a pen (before I eventually give them one), write the check incorrectly, I correct them, write the check correctly, look it over for thirty seconds, and hand it to me. By then my arms have fallen off so I have to use my mouth to put it into the machine. If they pay by credit card, I have to explain everything. "Scan it this way. No, the other way. Nope, that's the same way. Try a little bit faster. Now, move a little slower. Try going down instead of up. Just give it to me. There, perfect. Congratulations on your ability to do nothing in such a long period of time."
I love stopping to smell the roses as much as the next person, but not at work. Society is a fast-paced dog-eat-dog world and if you just leisurely stroll your way through it, I am going to take the cane you are using and chase you down the hallway. Maybe, then you will realize how fast you can truly be.
I hate slow people. First, they come through your line with a wide variety of assorted groceries. Then, they place them each on the conveyor belt one by one until they have been properly sorted. This way, I, the unreliable checker, will not somehow put her eggs under her 20 pound turkey (like I haven't had weeks of training for that). Next, when I scan their groceries, we find out that they did not get a price on the almonds in the Organic section. So, I call over a manager and ask her to kindly go check it out. Then comes the awkward silence. I realize I should be an expert at silences, but I do not want to risk any of his/her slowness rubbing off on me. Once the manager returns, I scan through everything and it is time to pay.
Paying is the worst. If they pay with a check, I have to stand there and watch them find the checkbook in their purse, search for a pen (before I eventually give them one), write the check incorrectly, I correct them, write the check correctly, look it over for thirty seconds, and hand it to me. By then my arms have fallen off so I have to use my mouth to put it into the machine. If they pay by credit card, I have to explain everything. "Scan it this way. No, the other way. Nope, that's the same way. Try a little bit faster. Now, move a little slower. Try going down instead of up. Just give it to me. There, perfect. Congratulations on your ability to do nothing in such a long period of time."
I love stopping to smell the roses as much as the next person, but not at work. Society is a fast-paced dog-eat-dog world and if you just leisurely stroll your way through it, I am going to take the cane you are using and chase you down the hallway. Maybe, then you will realize how fast you can truly be.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Awkward Smiley Face : l
Awkward silences. They are pretty uncomfortable. For example, you might be working and you ask, "How's your day going?" and they respond with, "Well, I lost my job because I'm an alcoholic and my kids for the same reason. My own dog won't even look at me. Instead of barking like the rest of the dogs, mine just goes, 'Failure...Failure...'." The awkward silence that proceeds after that conversation would be quite catastrophic.
So, here are my friendly tips on how to stop awkward silences:
1) Try to have some handy conversation starters to get you going. Remember that the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach and the best way to a woman's is to talk about laundry (that second part might be a bit stereotypical but still accepted by most people).
2) Once things start to get depressing make sure to bring up rainbows. If someone says, "How much do I owe you? I probably can't pay it because my landlord just kicked me out for not being able pay the bills but I guess I can-" you can always chime in with a, "You know, I saw a rainbow today. One of the colors was the exact pure shade or your eyes." And when they say their eyes are brown, you will have a chance to bring up color-blindness as another point of conversation.
3) If you don't want to be the one to say anything, try direct eye contact. Eventually, they will feel pressured into saying something like, "Why are you staring at me, freak?" This way, they will not be thinking about how awkward the silence is. Instead, they will be thinking about the awkward person staring at them. Everyone wins.
Personally, I think that the science behind awkward silences should be taught in schools. Right next to chemistry, it would be one of the most rapidly growing fields in the nation. We could do research on how the body reacts to creepy people or the amount of tears that come out of a person when they hear bad news. I would be able to find out which ones of my bad jokes might actually make people giggle instead of just randomly typing them out. The untapped power of the awkward silence is the key to a new revolutionary breakthrough in modern technology. Save the awkward silence, save the world (that was Heroes reference, thank you).
So, here are my friendly tips on how to stop awkward silences:
1) Try to have some handy conversation starters to get you going. Remember that the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach and the best way to a woman's is to talk about laundry (that second part might be a bit stereotypical but still accepted by most people).
2) Once things start to get depressing make sure to bring up rainbows. If someone says, "How much do I owe you? I probably can't pay it because my landlord just kicked me out for not being able pay the bills but I guess I can-" you can always chime in with a, "You know, I saw a rainbow today. One of the colors was the exact pure shade or your eyes." And when they say their eyes are brown, you will have a chance to bring up color-blindness as another point of conversation.
3) If you don't want to be the one to say anything, try direct eye contact. Eventually, they will feel pressured into saying something like, "Why are you staring at me, freak?" This way, they will not be thinking about how awkward the silence is. Instead, they will be thinking about the awkward person staring at them. Everyone wins.
Personally, I think that the science behind awkward silences should be taught in schools. Right next to chemistry, it would be one of the most rapidly growing fields in the nation. We could do research on how the body reacts to creepy people or the amount of tears that come out of a person when they hear bad news. I would be able to find out which ones of my bad jokes might actually make people giggle instead of just randomly typing them out. The untapped power of the awkward silence is the key to a new revolutionary breakthrough in modern technology. Save the awkward silence, save the world (that was Heroes reference, thank you).
Me vs. It
Public bathrooms are disgusting. Back in the olden day when I was not a checker at Freddy's I would have to clean bathrooms every night. You would not believe what some people are capable of. One night, I opened the door to the bathroom, pushed my vacuum inside, and dropped it. I didn't even notice because I was too busy staring at the wreckage. It looked like a small rock concert had taken place with all of the stuff on the floor and random objects and liquids on the walls. Still, I was trooper and I cleaned it up. Did I actually clean the toilets off the way i was supposed to? Not quite, but I did it.
My main story comes next. One night, I was putting baskets away when the manager comes up to me. "Do you have a strong stomach?" she asked. Flustered, I told her, "Yeah, I guess so. Why?" "Well, we have a bit of a problem in the bathroom. If you could go take care of it that would be great. Thank you very much! Oh and it's the women's bathroom!" I walked away confused and wondering what this big mystery was. I waited outside the women's bathroom for everyone to be done and then propped the door open with a garbage can so they would know that I was in there. I looked around and it was fairly clean. There was nothing on the walls and the mirrors looked like they had already been cleaned off (I may have taken a moment to take in the insurmountable beauty that was my reflection). Then, I started scanning the stalls. I opened the first door and it was fine. It may have been a little low on toilet paper, but still it passed. The second stall was fine, too. And then, when I opened the door to the third stall....THE HORROR.
There, on the floor right next to the toilet bowl was....it. It seemed to be staring at me as if to say, "That's right. Pick me up...if you dare." Immediately my response was girlish shriek and a very manly, "EEEWWW!" I took a step back and then a step forward. A step back and then forward. Back. Forward. Back. Forward. Finally, I collected myself and thought, "SlimShaney, you are a big man. You can stand up to it and be the boss. Be the boss!" So, I took my newfound strength, found some gloves, wrapped some paper towels around them and picked it up.
My main story comes next. One night, I was putting baskets away when the manager comes up to me. "Do you have a strong stomach?" she asked. Flustered, I told her, "Yeah, I guess so. Why?" "Well, we have a bit of a problem in the bathroom. If you could go take care of it that would be great. Thank you very much! Oh and it's the women's bathroom!" I walked away confused and wondering what this big mystery was. I waited outside the women's bathroom for everyone to be done and then propped the door open with a garbage can so they would know that I was in there. I looked around and it was fairly clean. There was nothing on the walls and the mirrors looked like they had already been cleaned off (I may have taken a moment to take in the insurmountable beauty that was my reflection). Then, I started scanning the stalls. I opened the first door and it was fine. It may have been a little low on toilet paper, but still it passed. The second stall was fine, too. And then, when I opened the door to the third stall....THE HORROR.
There, on the floor right next to the toilet bowl was....it. It seemed to be staring at me as if to say, "That's right. Pick me up...if you dare." Immediately my response was girlish shriek and a very manly, "EEEWWW!" I took a step back and then a step forward. A step back and then forward. Back. Forward. Back. Forward. Finally, I collected myself and thought, "SlimShaney, you are a big man. You can stand up to it and be the boss. Be the boss!" So, I took my newfound strength, found some gloves, wrapped some paper towels around them and picked it up.
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