I Get A Job

Last Crack–Sinister Funkhouse #17

MoTW—Dredd

Eventually it was going to happen. There’s only so long a guy can sit in his basement every day eating pretzels filled with peanut butter, drinking Mountain Dew and smoking banned (in some states) substances before someone goes batshit crazy and demands that this guy gets a job. Plus she doesn’t like the idea of this guy using the downstairs sink to pee in instead of going upstairs to use the toilet.

So I did it. I went a got me a job. Since this is Michigan, jobs are pretty hard to come by. Luckily for me a local fast food restaurant was hiring so I got my resume updated by adding more lies. Then I put on my best sweatsuit and headed out for the interview.

Luckily it was the holiday season and they were desperate for help. Since I don’t bathe often, they decided I would not be good counter help. Also, because I suffer from Tourette Syndrome, they decided I wouldn’t do to well on the drive-thru window. Cooking was out as well since I don’t wash my hands after pooing and peeing, so what would they have for me?

Easy! My job was to count the pieces of chicken in the boxes to make sure each and every customer got the right amount. Say they ordered the five piece deal. Before the box of crispy goodness could be turned over to the paying customer, it first had to go thru me and I had to visually inspect the innards of the box and make sure the customer was getting five pieces. Not four, not six. FIVE.

Pretty simple. I managed to do this a couple days without any major catastrophes. Then some asshole had to come in and order a 20 piece deal and my nose was runny and as I was counting the pieces of chicken they noticed that snot was dripping all over the golden brown nuggets so they had to complain to the 15 year old manager about how unlean and unsanitary I was and that there was no way they eat snot-drenched chicken.

This really pissed me off because everyone had eaten snot at one time or or the other and I figured my snot was as good as the next guys so I hefted my 900 lb body over the counter and confronted the customer. Little did I know that this is a big no-no in the fast food business since the customer is supposedly always right, and the next thing I knew I was being escorted outside by a couple senile retirees. No more uniform, no more free food and no more hefty paycheck.

Now I pretend to go to work most every day so the woman leaves me alone. As soon as she leaves the house though, I’m back in the basement watching movies, sleeping, drining, eating and drugging. Obviously that’s what I do best.

COMING NEXT: I have a plan!