I mean, I could bitch about the weather, but I've been doing that a lot lately.
I could bitch about work, but I really don't mind my job. I mean, I hate that I'm working at all, but you know what I mean.
I seem to bitch about work even more than I do the weather, though.
I guess I'll tell you another story from my 7-ELEVEn days, and that way I can entertain you and bitch about work at the same time.
I call this one:
Early in my career in the C-Store business, our handyman did us a huge favor. He gave us one way doors. See, when I started there, the doors would push in as well as pull out (that sounds bad) and it was very irritating, because the doors when pushed open, would inevitably lock open and would break the door buzzer light....
And it would go off continuously....Imagine the old round, red school bell. Yeah, like that but a little smaller.....
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
It was fucking ghastly!!
I can't tell you how happy I was when he made them one way doors. I was also surprised that it was as easy as it was. He merely pop-riveted an L-shaped strip of aluminum into the the top of the door frame, restricting the door's movement.
It was brilliant, and it provided me with endless hours of entertainment. I know, because on slow nights, I'd count, that fully one-third of my customers would look right at the sign, and push ineffectively on the door.
Many were locals, and would say 'Heh....you'd think I'd learn....'
Yeah, think being the operant word.
But, I didn't come here to talk about that....
Believe it or not, that was all exposition.
So, picture it:
I'm in the vault (aka walk-in cooler) stocking one night. I didn't mind doing it, and actually preferred to, because I did it right. I'm cruising through, grabbing beer, soda, whatever, when I hear this tremendous
BANG!!
My first thought was 'What fucking now?!?'
I head out of the vault, and look towards the front door, and see a pick up truck.
On the sidewalk.
With his bumper against the frames of our double doors.
Seems his 'gas pedal malfunctioned' or 'his breaks were soft' or he 'hit the brake instead of the gas,' I don't remember which, but what made it memorable were the glass doors.
See, they were intact. After everything was over....insurance, cops, a total fuck-a-roo, I took a look at the door. Now, this was a typical 7-ELEVEn, with those nice double doors, which are set in a pretty sturdy aluminum box which surrounds both doors. Yeah, that huge door frame punched into the store by almost half an inch, and neither of the doors broke.
I think about that little inanimate aluminum strip every now and then, and every time, I thank my handyman again. See, had that strip not been there, the doors would have slammed open, and one at least (would have hit the magazine racks) would have exploded.
Cause you just know who would have had to clean up all that fucking glass...
Buenos con queso,
T.
P.S. Here's an HNT
