The Melange

I've, over the past two months, developed atrocious sleep problems, so I have developed a sleep concoction, "The Melange", which is a perfect method of getting to sleep.

What you need:

Vodka, two shots of
Warm water, two glasses of
Tylenol PM, two pills of
Cigarette, one

Chase one of the Tylenol PM pills with a shot of vodka, and further chase it with half the glass of warm water.

Wait a moment.

Repeat. Finish the glass of water.

Smoke the cigarette.

Drink the last glass of water.

Do a headstand.

Bam, The Melange. It knocks me the hell out. I get the feeling I'm going to die soon.

Tired, bored, and burnt

With the school being out for the summer, I'm just bored as fuck with my job. The college kids used to put a filler between the sordid, drug addicted lives of the other 1%, but the other 1% has now taken over. Everybody annoys me. EVERYBODY. I don't have the funny drunks to keep me entertained anymore.

So the blog is suffering a little. Obviously cause I haven't posted in forever. And I really got nothing. So, for the summer, I'll be posting at random. Come August, things will be firing up again.

Hardcore.
Tom

Deappetizer.

I was talking to some girl at my cash register and from across the store, this woman yells "Ya'll's slushie machine is broke!" and throws her arms up in the air while her fat, disgusting stomach flopped out. Before leaving to go try to help the lump, I turned and said,

"That's what we call the deappetizer."

Don't reinforce the behavior.

Just before I left today, this guy comes in. I've never really taken to him because he's never really talkative and always gives me weird looks. Today, he decided to get pissy.

Me: Here you go. (Handing him random change)
Guy: I don't want a dollar coin, I want a bill.
Me: That's fine, lemme get some more singles.

It took me all of four seconds.

Me: There you go.
Guy: You didn't give me the two cents.
Me: Yes I did.
Guy: No you didn't.

Chicks and dudes, I totally gave him two cents.

Me: This isn't worth arguing about.

I caved the two cents. Fuck it.

Guy: You don't have to be so rude.

And he stood there and looked at me, waiting for a response that never actually came. See, this guy is obviously picking a fight with a clerk at 5:55am. There's no denying it. So like a child throwing a tantrum, I didn't reinforce the behavior. I ignored him.

He stands there and looks at me. So I just look back at him. I hold the expression for about five seconds and:

Me: Morning miss, anything else?

Helped the next customer. And he leaves.


Did it make me mad? Kinda. I mean, he's a fucking garbage man and he's giving me shit? I could have nailed him to the wall. "Boy, never seen a condescending garbage man before," but that would have just escalated the conflict.

Hey, it's like I've said before; if you're a dick, you have no business in my bubble.

The things we say.

I've payed close attention to the things people say to me in passing. I've found that rarely, given the context, do these things make any sense.

Me: That it for you?
Guy: Sure.
Me: Sweet, $4.34.
Guy: Cheese.

And with that, he hands me the cash, takes his change, and leaves.

Cheese? Why?

Nevermind.

Freedom Subs?

This kid that I sort of know-ish was mumbling to himself as grabbed a sandwich out of the display while I was putting more in. Upon closer listening, he had said, "These are the freedom subs." I grilled him on what he was talking about but he just kind of giggled at me.

Yeah. I guess they are the freedom subs.

My life is going to get really boring by the beginning of next week when that school is out for summer.

Don't ask.

I went to the back office to check my schedule, and written in red clamp-tie things on the desk was the word "Penis."

I dunno either. Best leave it at that.