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March 11, 2003 Human beings... or a close facsimile there of. Part of me… the part that rages against the daily injustices done to those of us trapped within the baleful sink hole that is the "service industry"… the part that wants to destroy something beautiful (thank you "Fight Club", David Fincher, and Chuck Palahniuk) or rather, someone who thinks they're beautiful… wonders what is wrong with people.Part of me does not give a gnat's ass! Part of me wishes that things were more barbaric, feral. Meaning that if you plan to give attitude and "lip" to someone physically your superior you had better have the guts, the fists, or the weapon to back it up. Inherently, I'm not a violent person. Yes my stories are violent, but, and you must possess a modicum of intelligence to grasp this, they are only outlets through which I can channel aggressive tendencies. However, today was different. Today I wanted to devastate, ravage, annihilate, decimate and demolish, pulverize and punish, bring to ruin, shatter, smash, and tear down… basically beat the living shit out of this one whining, miniscule, little piss-ant who had the unmitigated gall, the audacity to call me a "fucker"! Obviously, this random moron was ignorant of the fact that I could have broken him in half. Have you ever been called a "fucker" at your place of employment? I have. Oh the joys… the rapture of life in "service". Okay, first of all… you've got to understand, the majority of my day is dealing with people who are upset and troubled by their own stupidity. That, not to put too fine a point on it, is it, massaging the battered egos of a plethora of mature adults with the collective brain capacity of an infant… that's my day, my life, and unfortunately, my job. So here is how it went. Two fellas were copying illegal material on the color copy, like INS cards, social security cards, legal documents, etc. Here's the thing! I have one rule about illegal activities in the store. Do not ask me for help. Let me repeat that… DO NOT ASK ME FOR HELP!! If you're in the process of breaking the law, you're on your own. What do they do? These icons of intelligence. These paragons of wit and wisdom. You guesed it, they ask me for help. So… I call these guys on it. I say to them, "what you're doing is illegal". Of course, they don't believe me, as all felons and miscreants have a tendency to do. But calmly now, I tell them that not only won't I help them with their illegal copying, but I won't allow them to continue doing what they're doing. So… moron #1 gets upset with me, screaming, "I do this all the time! I've never been so poorly treated!" …blah, blah, fuckin' blah. You know, there's one sure way you can tell when someone is trying to pull something on you. They start making a bunch of noise. I tell moron #1, "here's what I'll do. You can give me all the illegal copies you've made, and I won't charge you for anything." Moron #1 readily agrees, and hands over the copies. Now… what happened next brought on the unfortunate debacle. See if you can find out at what point my questions were confusing, and or, misleading. Holding copies in hand, I look at moron #1 and say, "are there any originals here?" In a clear and precise voice, I might add. "No," said moron #1. "These are all copies?" I ask, indicating the stack of copies moron #1 had "readily" given me, in the same clear and precise voice. (The aforementioned question is redundant, yes. Seeing as how my initial question covered the topic of originals and copies. Nevertheless, what you may not understand is the level of mentality of the majority of my customers. This will be clearly evinced if you read further.) (On a side note… if you do not know the difference between "original" and "copy", you are probably one of my customers. Please read My "Random Thoughts". Trust me, you will learn something. At the very least you might not ask me repeatedly the same dull-witted question. This might save us both time and grief.) "Yes," replies moron #1. At that point, I took said illegal copies and shredded them. Moron #1 freaks, "That was my only original!" I reply, in the same unwavering, amazingly clear and infinitely precise voice, "I asked you if you had any originals. You said no." "Yah," he mumbles, " but I didn't no you were going to shred them!" There it is… in a fuckin' nutshell. Shit… shit… and a mountain of more… you guessed it… shit. Tomorrow I will go back in, and it'll be the same thing, simply packaged differently. And there I will stand, fighting against the overwhelming miasma of uncouthness and asininity. Trying to be true. Attempting to be strong. Sometimes the warrior, sometimes the worker, more often than not, the human being… as simple and as complex as that may be. [Add Comment] [View Comment] |
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