I have been at the same job for almost a quarter of a century. It is a long time. It was my first job. During these 24 years of being with this place, I have met a wide range of people. Some of these people I can call friends and some of them were just so fucking weird that I would question them and their sanity. I know I have my days when I act like a total nutjob and do the strangest things but I am honest with my life and don’t go off and tell stories that are obviously made up to impress anyone who is able to listen. Let me talk about one such individual I worked with for a few years. His stories were great. When he talked to me about these stories, he sounded so sure of himself that they actually happened and not just something he made up.
I am not sure where to start. He had some outlandish stories. Before this tall tale of a guy came around, I had a friend named Robert. Well, he wasn’t my friend. He was a friend of a friend. Was it Julia? Was it Sam? Don’t remember which friend he was to. It doesn’t matter much to the story but for my own headache of an itch I can’t scratch, I’d love to remember which friend it was.
There was a point in my life when I thought it would be fun to record myself drinking with friends and then, later on, we can watch the video and laugh as the night starts with two calm people and watch it unfold into a night of drunken debauchery. One day Robert came over. We drank and talked. At one point the topic changed. He said he needed me to turn off the camera because what he was about to tell me isn’t safe and could cause me harm and if this tape ever was released or fell into the wrong hands, he would go to jail or possibly worse, have a hit put out on him.
I may have just put our lives in danger since I am now revealing this to the world! I agreed to turn off the camera. He examined it, being sure enough that I wasn’t lying and trying to sneak some confession on tape. I was shocked he didn’t ask me if I was wearing a wire. So no wires. No camera. No hidden microphones (that he knew of!) anywhere in the apartment. It was time for him to confess and tell me the juicy secret he’s been hiding all these years. He made me promise to never talk about it. I had to swear to him that this secret would go to the grave with him. :shrugs emoji:”
“I am a hitman for the Kansas City mob.”
Wait. You’re a what? You’re a hitman!? I nodded and listened to him talk about his job being a hitman for the mob. He was a pro at his job. He was one of the 
best. This kid was probably 6’1, weighed maybe 160 and was built like me, where muscle mass are two words I don’t know. He spoke about all the bodies hidden across the city that haven’t been found and with how amazing he is with being a hitman for the mob, his burying and hiding bodies technique is flawless. He was the best thing to ever happen to the mob. This still wasn’t as good of a story as the time he spent living in North Carolina.
No lie. He said while he was out walking, you know, just enjoying his day, a group of thugs came at him. These men were packing heat! Oh no! Robert is in trouble. No worries, folks. He just pulled out a samurai sword and swung it around. Those thugs ran off. You never bring a gun to a knife fight! It’s common sense. He fought many crimes with his samurai sword. He was like Batman but only if Batman was dirt poor, not physically fit, and used a sword to fight crime and not gadgets created in an underground facility because we all know underground facilities are only but fairy tales.
Now, whenever I talk about him I call him, The Samurai Assassin. The name fits. I’ve lost touch with Robert. Last time I remember hanging with him was at his apartment. The landlord came by and asked for rent. He said, “Okay, tomorrow.” She left. He laughed and said he’s not paying. I explained to him that you have to pay or you’ll get evicted. It just was no big deal. Maybe he’s back in the mob or in North Carolina. I don’t know but I hope it’s the latter. He could be taking on Florence with that samurai sword and showing her who is the boss.
Okay, now that I stretched out this blog for a good length, let’s talk about the person I planned on speaking about. This fool, Jared, was the king of tall tales. He told me he was a stripper for a good amount of time but was fired because the other guys were getting upset because he got all the stage time and women flocked to him. The boss ended up letting him go to bring peace back to the strip club. Seems like Jared was Magic Mike without the looks, skills, and charm.
Jared had a baby girl but was only brought up a few times. He always said he’ll bring her in for us all to meet his little angel but every time he was going to, something just came up. So, not a stripper and not a father. I wonder what else this guy “has accomplished” in the 20-something years of his life.
Oh! He was in the army…or navy seals. Maybe in the green berets. Can’t recall the branch he “served” in. He was an excellent marksman. Like the f**king best there is! He made Seeley Booth look like a little kid at the carnival shooting ducks as they passed by. He told me that he was an amazing sniper with an eye like a hawk. He ended up leaving the military after one of the men in his unit was shot by a sniper and died in his arms. “Not something you’d ever want to live through…” Jared told me. He talked about it. Said they were under fire. Bullets coming in all directions. The rain pouring down, the ground below them sucking up all the rain, making the once solid ground into a giant mass of mud, slowly sucking his unit, leaving them helpless and unable to move. His unit was pinned down. All was lost. His brother in arms, his best friend, was stuck. He tried to maneuver through a chain link fence but his gear got stuck. It was there and then that he died. Shot by an enemy sniper. Jared raced over, holding him as he died. It was then when Jared decided to leave the military and take up a job at Hardees.
Yes, Hardees. According to Jared, Hardees is just a front. It is not a real fast food joint. Hardees is actually part of the military and below the store was an underground facility storing bioweapons and chemicals that could wipe out a majority of the world and leave us in a Randall Flagg type scenario. I don’t know if he thinks we believe him or he’s just feeding us junk because it’s funny and entertaining to him. Does he actually think all this took place? Is Hardees a front for the government and it’s a bioweapon facility that could house nuclear silos under the store and they’ll be ready to strike in a moment’s time? God, Hardees sounds good right about now.
This isn’t the first time I have heard about military operations happening below fast food joints. Long ago, a man would come into my work and sit alone in a booth. He never ordered food. He just sat alone and drank his coffee. He would spend his time writing. He would fill up the entire page with notes. Both sides. I never knew what he was writing. When you got near him, he would cover up his paper and wait for you to leave, One day, Gary left and forgot his paper.
I am shocked that I am damn good with names. I haven’t seen this Gary guy in over 15 years but I still know his name. He wore a blue striped plaid shirt over a dirty, sweat-stained gray t-shirt. He had dark hair, a mustache, and he smelled like onions. Gary worked at McDonald’s. If I recall, he lived with his mom. I am also told, while not sure how true this is, but he did watch his father get murdered in front of him. It could be the other way around. Someone did get murdered and he witnessed it. Mom or dad. It’ll fuck you up. My sister and brothers both worked at McDonald’s so maybe that’s how I know. I would have worked there too but Rex didn’t hire me.
“F**k you, Rex. I could of had class. I could have been a contender I could have been somebody instead of a bum, which is what I am.”
My friend Jennifer found the paper. It was mind-blowing! It spoke about how McDonald’s was working with the government and stored tanks, rockets, WMD, and all and any type of vehicle and weapon you can imagine. You have to think now. A fast food joint is a perfect front. The amount of money people spend daily on burgers and fries is astronomical. Our money is used to fund the government and the wars we wage. So if you want the world to enter into a third world war (I hope you don’t cause who wants a third world war) and make sure we win this global fight and take out the terrorists, get the big mac and fries. Just please, for the sake of humanity and to give us the upper hand, supersize that bitch. Money talks.
Oh! I almost forgot about the biggest and most exciting story he told us. During his stint in the military, he was there during the horrific events of 9/11. He spoke about the event and the craziness that was happening. I am not going to shoo someone off when speaking about an event that changed the world in one day, so I stood there and listened to him. He talked about the chaos and how their main priority was to make sure President Bush was safe. Readers, I am happy to tell you that he was the one (the only one in his words) that saved the life of our President. He ran to Air Force One and grabbed Bush by the hand and ran him into an underground bunker assuring him he was safe. Yes, a former stripper/sniper/Hardees employee/single father saved the life of President Bush. He took him inside that underground bunker and while they watched the news unfold, they called upstairs and ordered a Big Mac combo. “Do you want to supersize that, Mr. President?”
“I want to win this war. What do you think?”
pitweston
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