I haven’t posted any of my writing lately. This story I am about to share is titled, “broken”. It is a story about a mother, her husband, and her daughter. Lauren fears her husband is cheating on her. Our story begins with the mother in the basement. She is busy humming along to showtunes while her daughter is woken up by the noises and the odd sounds filling the room.
I mentioned in previous blog (read it here) that I am in the middle of writing an epic four story collaboration. The stories will intertwine with each other but will be a story all their own. I am going to share with you a little section of one of the stories I am currently in the process of writing. This story, “The Mortuary“, is about a child killer & sexual predator. I’ve written some pretty eff’ed up stuff before but this one I think is pushing it. It’s a good story. It’s not even close to be finished but I have it all planned out. At least I have the ending planned out. The middle is going to be the tricky part. Read it below.
I am going to share something personal with you. I enjoy writing and have been writing for years. I can remember writing a story titled, Zombietown in third grade. I still have the story and still look at it every so often. That is the earliest documented story I have. It’s probably the moment I knew that I wanted to write. While I am not a famous writer or published, I still write. I have shared a few stories with you on here. I hope that you’ve read them or if not all of them, read at least one of them. My blog is all about me. I share a lot of information about my life. I am pretty open about it all. I am now going to share with you my newest challenge I am putting myself up against. It is all about writing. I said I wanted to write more this year and I will. I write everyday at work.
Had a strange dream just now. I just woke up and figured i better write it down before i forget it. Sorry if I skip around some. I’ts just after 6am and I literally just woke up and had to write this down. This is too good to not forget.
I had a board game of ‘The Human Centipede’ I wanted him to sign. We had a book. I don’t recall what book, or if it was ever mentioned. We (I say we cause there was four of us together) also had a large, red-sleeved dictionary too. We were planning on getting it all signed by horror master, Stephen King. We’re running around a park for no reason. I know it was a park cause of the trees and a statue. The four of us (There was four of us. I just don’t and can’t recall who the fourth was) were going crazy. I just remember us running around and screaming, “we’re gonna miss him!” We arrive at the building. He’s on the stage. He looks skinny. A little under weight. Possibly, cancer stricken with a virus eating away at him. While we are all excited to see him, it’s not him. I mean, it was Stephen King but he looked more like R.L. Stine. That is, if RL Stine was a buck-o-one and cancer stricken with a virus eating away at him. He is sitting there. A pen in his left hand. The sleeves on his black sweater are pushed up, revealing his arms. His arms are tiny and they are hairy. Not the whole arm. It was just centered on his wrist. From where I was sitting, his arms looked like they had tattoos but I can’t be positive. He has glasses that seem to be rolling off his nose. Never saw him push them up but as much as they would slide off his nose, they would magically go back to normal.
He doesn’t look very happy. You wouldn’t be either if you saw the kind of people in the crowd. It was full of no-faced people, the four of us, people who are there just to be there, and some stereo-typical redneck people. These rednecks were in three groups.
- Group One: He was a gluttonous kid. He sang rhymes about my twig and berries, only minus the twig. Each verse to this rhyme resulted in me getting a knee to the groin. I was not liking this kid and was really getting tired of him.
- Group Two: These were twin boys screaming about there cousin who starred in some movie with cousin, Lloyle. All they did was shout and scream. They egged on the groin-kicking kid at times.
- Group Three: Not a group but another single redneck yokel. He was just there. Don’t recall him saying anything. I just remember that I was more concerned about trying to find out where I knew him from. He had thus face that looked like a movie star. Maybe not a movie star but a character from a movie. Never did figure out who he was.
So, we are all is building. It reminded me of my days in grade school when we would all pile in the gym to see a presentation. The whole ambiance of the building really did make me feel like I was 11 again. We’re sitting on the ground. Other people are standing. We are sitting though. We could stand. Not sure why we are sitting. Most people are standing. Actually, I think everyone but us were standing. No matter. We are in the front. We have the best seats in the house. There is no reason Stephen King will miss us. He’ll wave us up and we will leave with autographed keepsakes. Me and my ‘human centipede’ board game, my brother with a book, and my little sister be the only person with a signed copy of a, red-sleeved, Merriam-Webster Dictionary. He waves us up. Even him waving us to the stage looks like a boring job. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to sign useless crap – like novels, magazines, or dictionaries. He sits in a chair. He is hidden behind an over-sized desk. Nothing on the desk but a pen holder. Standing next to him and the desk is a lady. She has no face, no name, and no reason being there except to be there.
My sister is waved up. We all were but we just sent her with everything. She is at the stage. Remember the groin-kicking fat kid? Well, he grabs me and starts another verse about kicking me in the balls. I am fed up at this point and I take my fist and punch him in the throat. I keep it there pushing harder and harder. I watch as his eyes begin to pop out. I say something witty to him. I know it was witty cause all good revenge and payback scenarios have the protagonist say one. The other yokels look at me but say nothing.
My sister is at stage. She hands him the dictionary. He screams about something and says he doesn’t do autographs. The crowd gasps and he says something else but couldn’t make it out. He sounded angry though. Next thing I know, I am up. I am back in my bed with no signed dictionary, there is no ‘human centipede’ board game, and my balls don’t hurt. The only thing going on was I had a few drinks before bed and nature was calling that very moment.
You know. Come to think of it, my description of him,
He looks skinny. A little under weight. Possibly, cancer stricken with a virus eating away at him. While we are all excited to see him, it’s not him. I mean, it was Stephen King but he looked more like R.L. Stine. That is, if RL Stine was a buck-o-one and cancer stricken with a virus eating away at him. He is sitting there. A pen in his left hand. The sleeves on his black sweater are pushed up, revealing his arms. His arms are tiny and they are hairy. Not the whole arm. It was just centered on his wrist. From where I was sitting, his arms looked like they had tattoos but I can’t be positive. He has glasses that seem to be rolling off his nose. Never saw him push them up but as much as they would slide off his nose, they would magically go back to normal.
sounds more like Steve Jobs. Now that I am awake, I have no clue who I met in my dream.
Here comes the final part to this three part post. I began this trilogy with my hunt for a new job. I explained how the last week went. That second post more or less talked about the final day I had and how awful it turned out to be. This final post is to talk about the good times I had at the store. I had some great memories at that store. Even when I worked at another store, I had some amazing times. I had the honor to meet a man who wanted nothing more than to take me out for a delicious, deep dish pizza. I met a man who was off his medication one night and created a story I dubbed, “the helicopter story“. I remember having a cool whip fight one night. Once, a friend and I plastic wrapped a girls car. Oh boy, did she cry and cry. Someone else got the blame at first but we were finally caught. We had a good talking to and had a finger shake at us for quite a while.
Coming to the new store, you are never too sure about who you’ll meet and if they will accept you or even understand you. I like to think of myself as a pretty witty person. I can be vulgar and slap stick funny, but I prefer sticking to an old fashion pun. What can I say, I’m punny. I cannot talk about everything in this post. I will try to talk about some of the greatest times I had there and what I hope will make a lasting impression on some people. I hope that with me moving on, mannerism and inside jokes will keep going or keep going until all those that knew of me are gone.
1. Lesbian Vest Day (LVD)
I cannot go around calling it Lesbian Vest Day. That would get me in a whole heap of trouble. Instead, a few of us dubbed it LVD. It’s catchier. LVD was a Thursday event. Each Thursday, a friend and I would come to work in a vest. We started with just a black vest but eventually put some money towards getting each a red one. We were allowed to wear different color shirts each day. We call each other up Wednesday and we would plan the outfit. Sometimes we wore all black. Black shirt, black pants, black tie, and a black vest. Stylish. Too bad for the below photo, the red vests came out looking orange. No matter, the LVD was legendary. I wanted to bring it back but never did. Maybe one day. Maybe another day down the road this great fashion statement will arise and become a hit. LVD forever.
2. The Lunch Lady
When I worked at the other store, I wrote a short story called “The R Sisters”. It was nothing serious. It was never a story I was going to send out to publishers. It was just something silly I wanted to write. This story was based off of people I worked with. The newest story I wrote was “The Lunch Lady”. It was never completed but maybe it will be. Maybe I’ll finally have an ending. I mean, I did leave and all. So the finale can come about with everything I witnessed in those 6 1/2 years. The idea of the story was about Super Heroes. Two fractions. The Tidy Titans vs. The Bad Guy Brigade. They both wanted control of the city. If they wanted to win it all, they would need the help of The Lunch Lady. She was dubbed Horrendous Helmet. Stick in other people I work with. Toss in the Fantastic Four (smalls, protein, droopy, tats). These four were Hell bent on bringing everyone down. Smalls lived Proteins backpack. Call it childish. Call it unprofessional. Whatever. The story was great. I mean, these people should have been flattered to be in such a story. Maybe one day I will finish it. Till then, a little section from this epic adventure!
The bus ride took them on the normal route. It was the same route they took every year. It was a ten minute drive through some residential areas, then to the busy city that all the kids remember from last year. Not much has built up during the summer. Only thing new that they could see, was a small shop that was to open in a few weeks. “Ed’s Snow Globe Emporium: Coming Soon.” It used to be a laundry mat but not anymore. The laundry mat closed up that summer. It went broke. The owner was pretty cool with letting his employees take money out of the register. It was called an “iou” but his people never paid him back. Ironically, Ed worked there. What was even stranger is the day after the laundry mat closed; Ed put up a down payment and bought the place. Now, I know this story can’t get any stranger but it does. The laundry mat lost with all its “iou’s” a total of 50,000 dollars. And how much did Ed front for the building? He dropped 49,999. He needed that extra dollar for a Pepsi. It was buy one get free. Plus those caps, he just doubled his chances of getting a free one.
Yeah. Dancing With The Stars? Eat your heart out. I guess he’s a big star back home with his own personal dance. Honestly, people don’t have moves like he does.
4. The Smoker
If I were to scream, “ahhhh…..2”, you’ll have no idea what the hell I am talking about. But to those that I worked with, they will fully understand it. I fibbed on how this came to be. He didn’t scream the number 2. He screamed the number 3. It sounds funnier and easier to say. Screaming, “ahhhh……3” is too hard. If just waddling around screaming, ‘ahhh’ is a riot. You had to work with this man to fully understand half the crap I come up with. He was quite a character. Someone I know said he was an adult Cartman. I can see it. It’s sad that I am going to miss him. He would give me headaches half the time I worked with him. I guess without him, I might have nothing to talk about. Believe me, I got some of my best material cause of him.
5. The Peeps.
I worked with some pretty colorful people. I worked with a half Mexican/half Chinese gal. The laziest genius I know. (that was a pretty stereotypical joke right there.) I will miss getting grinded on. There have been so many times where I was groped where I could have called for an adult but I didn’t. For being a guy with a slight case of OCD, I sure don’t mind the occasional hands on experience. I did offer hand shakes and hugs when I left. I just don’t like being touched. Such a uneasy moment that day. Oh, and I saw you when she all over me. You can eff off. I know you’re glad I am gone. Believe me, I’m glad too. I at least don’t have to deal with your face and criticism anymore. I don’t even know why I speak of you. You left a bad taste in my mouth. (that’s what she said.)
I’ll never get to learn how to scuba dive. I had my chance but now that I am gone, who will teach me? Plus, she was gonna let me wear her own earmuffs. Can’t ever go wrong with earmuffs. Every morning, I would scream at her asking where my coffee was. Who will get me my coffee now? I can’t go around asking people for coffee like I would ask her. That’s just calling for trouble.
Other things I will remember for a while,
the hairy big toe.
“I want biscuit and gravy. Yes! Gravy.”
“You got that!?”
“I got attacked by a pitbull.”
“The customers called me at home.”
“I got hit by a steering wheel.”
“It was Bethany and Michael’s fault.”
Being chased by someone with a lobster.
Ray’s missing finger and the high fours I gave him.
“You gonna help with the twuck?”
Victor’s fake baby.
“Kirkels!? Kirkels!? Thats’ not my name! OMG! I’ve called you that since day one!”
“(clear throat) Bitch.”
“You going to the back?”
While there is probably dozens more things I can include in this post, I can’t go on forever. I will miss many people from that store. I will miss the good times we had. Since I will not be around to amuse you at work, I promise to get back to work on the comics. Promise. I’ll be seeing you all whenever I can. Until we meet again, SUCK ONE!