manuel hit on a striking point the other day when snorkeling. my job can be easily compared to a prison. my only prominent activities are reading or lifting weights. luckily i get to go home after a few hours, and i'm no man's bitch.
but even though it may be my temporary cage, social interactions can keep things lively, or at least somewhat interesting. that dickass that i talked about earlier: fucking up my swept pile, he's back in action. last week he was "on vacation" which just meant "no work". he'd still come in every day, he just happened to do even less work, which i didn't think was possible (however theres also the anamolie of my job). anyway, the chair i sit in at work has an adjustable back. its rusty and metal, but with the right adjustments which extends the back to its highest reach, the metal doesn't dig into my back.
yet what does this assclown do? he doesnt even bother to sit in it, he's too busy fraternizing with the clients. but inbetween visits, he has time to lower the chair's back to its lowest extent. all the while not using it, whereas i use it all shift. now, it wouldn't be so bad, but to raise or lower my pedestal, a wrench of some sort is required.
so during my absence, the punkass gets that wrench and wrenches it down. but for what purpose? is it nearly to fuck with me? or is that what the boss wants? why would the boss bother to worry about that when they can't even fucking figure out how to run their own business?
i think the dickweed is just toying with me. he also dumped a shitload of baking soda into the pool (which is normal if done weekly or so), but when he was done he shoved the bag, which is about the size of a cement bag into a large bucket that is the lifeguard stand trash. this trash could go unemptied for weeks if morons don't shove shit in that is larger than the trashcan itself!
just outside the pooldeck, there's a trashcan that's the size of those you see at fastfood places. why not deposit that sack there?
but hey, theres better shit at work than that. ive got my few regulars that i talk to daily. only a few cuz i cant stand having too many obligatory conversations in a day. i got about 3 going right now, and i don't know if i could take on many more. so other than Arturo, George Lucas, and my 17 year-old co-worker, i usually keep to myself, with a few side-conversations with some of the people i'm friendly with.
the others, the ones i don't interact with, but see damn near daily, i make up names for them since they aren't going to introduce themselves to me anyway. . .
what we got? the one i remember most vividly from today is Ned. now, Ned is not his real name, mind you. its just a name that i saw fitting. ned happens to have an artificial voice box, one of those mini microphone-looking things for those who were unfortunate enough to have a trachaeotomy. i remember him today because i went into the lockeroom to wash my hands. Ned happened to be on the other side of the partition and was playing with his voice box dealy-thing.
after about 20 seconds, he got the thing working, and his test run went a little something like this: "Goooooooood . . . Loooooooord". cracked my shit up. but i guess everyone wants to vocalize their emotions.
next, we got fat greek man. this guy has white hair, but is balding, somewhat like a monk's bald head, but without the hair around the forehead, like Mr. Burns'. however, this dude is hefty with a round belly. too boot, he has his gold chain with a round medallion. i think thats what seals the deal on the "greek" monicure.
who else? well, there's Thumper. this is an old woman, probably about 80, if not older. but she still gets her ass in that pool damn near every day, more power to her. but there's this one annoying thing about her. . . when she swims, she does the breast stroke move with her arms (outward sweeping motion), but with her legs she does the crawl stroke kick (think: kickboard kick). yet in reality, only one of those legs are really going: righty. and righty comes out of the water every other kick and makes a HUge splash preceeded by a THU-ump. yeah. so, hence Thumper.
there are others that aren't so exciting: caney (she's got a cane ;), fat guy who swims (a fat guy who swims), the shirt (a man whose chest/arm hair makes it look like he's still wearing a long-sleeved shirt in the pool), hotty mcHot (you all know her), fake breastisis (her nips are always out there), granny veracose (need i say more?), gorilla nips (a man a newborn could swing from), that guy and that milf who are constantly breaking up (meaning they don't come to the pool at the same time for given amounts of time), weird guy (he kinda shuffles his feet along the pooldeck, always keeping eye contact with it, and always asks for his fins when he's done using the hot tub and saunas), the librarian (this is an old, crouched, wrinkled, white-haired woman who always comes in with her long hair bunned, and wears her large-lensed glasses, with chain, into the pool. reminds me of your stereotypical librarian and is always asking me about books), the old white guy with the black grandkid (wtf?), powder (this is again, an old, pale guy, but he's completely bald, shaved, or no hair at all? anyway, everytime he swims he's got some white marks smeared on his face. i have no idea what it is, but i'm thinking some sort of moisturizer), fatty mcFat (hotty's arch nemesis, whose ass could equal three of hotty's whole body. her super power: shes UNSINKABLE!!), slapper (this guy may have a shitty swimming style, but i'll give him credit. he's gotta be at least 70 but is out there everyday for about an hour slowly slapping away at the water with his handpaddles), bag lady (she's got all kinds of crazy toys that she takes into the water with her. i guess its the balls-out, expensive way to do water aerobics. if only she knew how to swim. . .), jackass #1 and jackass #2 (somehow both of these guys are friends of the boss, and for some reason they both rub me the wrong way), and to end the list, but not exhaust it, theres the woman with the tard (this kid, maybe high school-aged, must have had polio or something. he's pigeon-toed, and always has one arm angled up, and has his head cocked. i've overheard him talking to his mother or friend, i dont know which, and he's actually very capable, mentally, and is probably somebody very interesting to talk to, which kinda makes me feel bad i call him a tard. its too bad i dont have an opener to talk to this guy. hm, i believe i may have talked about this kid before. so with that, i'll end my list.
its my own storyline, and i can invent whatever falacies i want. with some of the fiction books i've read, i've imagined the characters to look like people at the pool. in Slow River (author: i can't remember), the main character, a rich heiress, hooks up with some street-rat dyke. so of course i cast the part to the only shaved-headed woman who graces the facilities. she also seems somewhat weird, yet freakishly limber.
this is what happens when i run out of books.
luckily i jacked daVinci code from my dad.
something to look forward to tomorrow.
i'll most likely have george and arturo around tomorrow, but the 17 year-old co-worker will not be, and who knows about the rest of the regulars?
thank god for reading. lifting weights can only last so long. . .
boobies can only get so big . . .
but even though it may be my temporary cage, social interactions can keep things lively, or at least somewhat interesting. that dickass that i talked about earlier: fucking up my swept pile, he's back in action. last week he was "on vacation" which just meant "no work". he'd still come in every day, he just happened to do even less work, which i didn't think was possible (however theres also the anamolie of my job). anyway, the chair i sit in at work has an adjustable back. its rusty and metal, but with the right adjustments which extends the back to its highest reach, the metal doesn't dig into my back.
yet what does this assclown do? he doesnt even bother to sit in it, he's too busy fraternizing with the clients. but inbetween visits, he has time to lower the chair's back to its lowest extent. all the while not using it, whereas i use it all shift. now, it wouldn't be so bad, but to raise or lower my pedestal, a wrench of some sort is required.
so during my absence, the punkass gets that wrench and wrenches it down. but for what purpose? is it nearly to fuck with me? or is that what the boss wants? why would the boss bother to worry about that when they can't even fucking figure out how to run their own business?
i think the dickweed is just toying with me. he also dumped a shitload of baking soda into the pool (which is normal if done weekly or so), but when he was done he shoved the bag, which is about the size of a cement bag into a large bucket that is the lifeguard stand trash. this trash could go unemptied for weeks if morons don't shove shit in that is larger than the trashcan itself!
just outside the pooldeck, there's a trashcan that's the size of those you see at fastfood places. why not deposit that sack there?
but hey, theres better shit at work than that. ive got my few regulars that i talk to daily. only a few cuz i cant stand having too many obligatory conversations in a day. i got about 3 going right now, and i don't know if i could take on many more. so other than Arturo, George Lucas, and my 17 year-old co-worker, i usually keep to myself, with a few side-conversations with some of the people i'm friendly with.
the others, the ones i don't interact with, but see damn near daily, i make up names for them since they aren't going to introduce themselves to me anyway. . .
what we got? the one i remember most vividly from today is Ned. now, Ned is not his real name, mind you. its just a name that i saw fitting. ned happens to have an artificial voice box, one of those mini microphone-looking things for those who were unfortunate enough to have a trachaeotomy. i remember him today because i went into the lockeroom to wash my hands. Ned happened to be on the other side of the partition and was playing with his voice box dealy-thing.
after about 20 seconds, he got the thing working, and his test run went a little something like this: "Goooooooood . . . Loooooooord". cracked my shit up. but i guess everyone wants to vocalize their emotions.
next, we got fat greek man. this guy has white hair, but is balding, somewhat like a monk's bald head, but without the hair around the forehead, like Mr. Burns'. however, this dude is hefty with a round belly. too boot, he has his gold chain with a round medallion. i think thats what seals the deal on the "greek" monicure.
who else? well, there's Thumper. this is an old woman, probably about 80, if not older. but she still gets her ass in that pool damn near every day, more power to her. but there's this one annoying thing about her. . . when she swims, she does the breast stroke move with her arms (outward sweeping motion), but with her legs she does the crawl stroke kick (think: kickboard kick). yet in reality, only one of those legs are really going: righty. and righty comes out of the water every other kick and makes a HUge splash preceeded by a THU-ump. yeah. so, hence Thumper.
there are others that aren't so exciting: caney (she's got a cane ;), fat guy who swims (a fat guy who swims), the shirt (a man whose chest/arm hair makes it look like he's still wearing a long-sleeved shirt in the pool), hotty mcHot (you all know her), fake breastisis (her nips are always out there), granny veracose (need i say more?), gorilla nips (a man a newborn could swing from), that guy and that milf who are constantly breaking up (meaning they don't come to the pool at the same time for given amounts of time), weird guy (he kinda shuffles his feet along the pooldeck, always keeping eye contact with it, and always asks for his fins when he's done using the hot tub and saunas), the librarian (this is an old, crouched, wrinkled, white-haired woman who always comes in with her long hair bunned, and wears her large-lensed glasses, with chain, into the pool. reminds me of your stereotypical librarian and is always asking me about books), the old white guy with the black grandkid (wtf?), powder (this is again, an old, pale guy, but he's completely bald, shaved, or no hair at all? anyway, everytime he swims he's got some white marks smeared on his face. i have no idea what it is, but i'm thinking some sort of moisturizer), fatty mcFat (hotty's arch nemesis, whose ass could equal three of hotty's whole body. her super power: shes UNSINKABLE!!), slapper (this guy may have a shitty swimming style, but i'll give him credit. he's gotta be at least 70 but is out there everyday for about an hour slowly slapping away at the water with his handpaddles), bag lady (she's got all kinds of crazy toys that she takes into the water with her. i guess its the balls-out, expensive way to do water aerobics. if only she knew how to swim. . .), jackass #1 and jackass #2 (somehow both of these guys are friends of the boss, and for some reason they both rub me the wrong way), and to end the list, but not exhaust it, theres the woman with the tard (this kid, maybe high school-aged, must have had polio or something. he's pigeon-toed, and always has one arm angled up, and has his head cocked. i've overheard him talking to his mother or friend, i dont know which, and he's actually very capable, mentally, and is probably somebody very interesting to talk to, which kinda makes me feel bad i call him a tard. its too bad i dont have an opener to talk to this guy. hm, i believe i may have talked about this kid before. so with that, i'll end my list.
its my own storyline, and i can invent whatever falacies i want. with some of the fiction books i've read, i've imagined the characters to look like people at the pool. in Slow River (author: i can't remember), the main character, a rich heiress, hooks up with some street-rat dyke. so of course i cast the part to the only shaved-headed woman who graces the facilities. she also seems somewhat weird, yet freakishly limber.
this is what happens when i run out of books.
luckily i jacked daVinci code from my dad.
something to look forward to tomorrow.
i'll most likely have george and arturo around tomorrow, but the 17 year-old co-worker will not be, and who knows about the rest of the regulars?
thank god for reading. lifting weights can only last so long. . .
boobies can only get so big . . .
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home