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The end is nigh
May. 7th, 2004 09:12 amThis morning I slipped back into consciousness for a brief minute, maybe to gather my thoughts. I felt I was totally aware of all my surroundings: my position in bed; where outside and inside was; how to get home if I got lost. And I heard a crash. A 5-second long apocalyptic crash. Like thunder, only it was like 5 lighting bolts meeting each other then striking a mack truck that crashes into a TNT factory. It was a very, very loud crash, guys. Loud enough to make me do a backflip out of bed and turn on the TV to see if the Japs were up to their old antics. But there was no mention of any loud crash. Just the folks on the Today show babbling to each other about god-knows-what because nobody is clear-headed enough to care what they say at 5 in the morning. Except the nocturnes, who come home from the graveyard shift and resent the fact that these bubbly assholes get paid to bark nonsense to each other in front of a camera.
It was tremendous, I swear it. It must have been thunder, but it was like no thunder I've ever heard. It took thunder to the next level. I may have even shat myself.
At Haagen Dazs we have our different sizes of ice cream cups (from small to quart),of drink cups (regular or large), and our different types of cone (sugar, wafer, or waffle--for the big spender)on display. Even if you haven't been in the store, you can imagine the set up, unless you're retarded. Like every other customer. If they want a cone, I point two fingers at the wafer and sugar cones and ask which they want. Most common answer: yes. What's more confusing is the cup sizes, because there are 5 of them! I've had people ask me what the cup sizes are, then ask again after I show them. Yesterday took an enormous amount of patience on my part. There was a middle school production of "Annie" and two teams of at least 10 drama kids and their shitty parents came in to celebrate a performance that probably sucked ass. Then this fuck ass came in on his cell phone. I'm thinking, one customer=one order. But this guy was ordering for his idiot friends. I'm capable of making up to 4 milk shakes at a time, I'm awesome like that. It saves a whole bunch of minutes. But every time I asked this guy if he needed something else, he asked another person what they wanted, and each fucker wanted a shake. I wanted to shake some sense into that guy. That guy.
This black dude pulled the race card out on me for no reason yesterday. This fucking shabby ass waste of life first asks me what the flavors are. I said "they're right in front of you." He didn't appreciate that, NOR did he appreciate the high prices. So this fucker orders a medium cup (after a mind-boggling journey through the different sizes) and makes like he's friends with me and says he's a "loyal customer" and tells me to put more into the cup which was already filled up (its my habit of always over-scooping). So this bitch demands more, and there's a line forming behind him, so I top it off. Then he's like "it because I'm a black man. That's America always after the black man." I looked to the black lady who was next on line and she gave me this look like "why is this man a member of my race?" I gave her a look like "why is this man a member of existence."
Rest-assured, if no one else was in the store, I would have screamed at this guy for accusing me of treating him differently and probably would have refused to sell him anything. I'm getting better at kicking people out of the store.
But that's niggers for you!
It was tremendous, I swear it. It must have been thunder, but it was like no thunder I've ever heard. It took thunder to the next level. I may have even shat myself.
At Haagen Dazs we have our different sizes of ice cream cups (from small to quart),of drink cups (regular or large), and our different types of cone (sugar, wafer, or waffle--for the big spender)on display. Even if you haven't been in the store, you can imagine the set up, unless you're retarded. Like every other customer. If they want a cone, I point two fingers at the wafer and sugar cones and ask which they want. Most common answer: yes. What's more confusing is the cup sizes, because there are 5 of them! I've had people ask me what the cup sizes are, then ask again after I show them. Yesterday took an enormous amount of patience on my part. There was a middle school production of "Annie" and two teams of at least 10 drama kids and their shitty parents came in to celebrate a performance that probably sucked ass. Then this fuck ass came in on his cell phone. I'm thinking, one customer=one order. But this guy was ordering for his idiot friends. I'm capable of making up to 4 milk shakes at a time, I'm awesome like that. It saves a whole bunch of minutes. But every time I asked this guy if he needed something else, he asked another person what they wanted, and each fucker wanted a shake. I wanted to shake some sense into that guy. That guy.
This black dude pulled the race card out on me for no reason yesterday. This fucking shabby ass waste of life first asks me what the flavors are. I said "they're right in front of you." He didn't appreciate that, NOR did he appreciate the high prices. So this fucker orders a medium cup (after a mind-boggling journey through the different sizes) and makes like he's friends with me and says he's a "loyal customer" and tells me to put more into the cup which was already filled up (its my habit of always over-scooping). So this bitch demands more, and there's a line forming behind him, so I top it off. Then he's like "it because I'm a black man. That's America always after the black man." I looked to the black lady who was next on line and she gave me this look like "why is this man a member of my race?" I gave her a look like "why is this man a member of existence."
Rest-assured, if no one else was in the store, I would have screamed at this guy for accusing me of treating him differently and probably would have refused to sell him anything. I'm getting better at kicking people out of the store.
But that's niggers for you!
