Clerks gone bad,
cameras, buttocks and tasty animals
--When I lived in Greensboro,
NC,
I walked into a convenience store near my apartment one night, and the
cashier said, “Are you a Jew?”
What the?I didn’t know how
to respond to such a question, so I just told her no, I’m not
Jewish.
And she replied, “Oh, I just figured you were, because you have dark
curly hair and your nose is kinda big.”
Sweet Maria!I didn’t say
another word; I just paid for my stuff and left.And the crazy thing…I
don’t think she was trying to be offensive, or had any idea she was.I guess she was just stupid?I
don’t know.
--My friends and I used to buy
beer when we were underage, from a little corner store owned by one of
our high school teachers and her husband.Is that not excellent?
One night we went in there and put a 12-pack of Busch (or whatever) on
the counter, and the cashier eyed us suspiciously.She was an older lady with a slight accent of some kind
(Irish?), a terrifying cigarette hack, and a voice like Babe Ruth’s
during the final days.
After a brief hesitation, she went ahead and rang up our purchase.But she told us:“I
know you boys aren’t old enough to buy beer.So if you get pulled over by the cops, tell ‘em some [insert
N-word here] bought it for you.”
While
this woman was almost certainly stupid as well, she knew exactly how
offensive she was being, and didn’t really give a flying
fornication.Of this, there was
little doubt.I believe she was
a former cover girl for Big
Trashy Hag
magazine (now defunct).
--One time Rocky was in the
hospital (don’t ask), and a bunch of us were going to pay him a
visit there.Somebody said we
should take him a gift, like candy or whatever.But that didn’t seem quite right… what are we, a gang of
poofters here?So we finally
settled on some reading material, either Playboy
or Penthouse
would do.
Steve was elected to go into the convenience store and buy the
magazine.I don’t remember
how this happened, but Steve was our guy.
I went in with him, but hung back in case of emergency.We weren’t technically old enough to purchase porn, and I
wasn’t sure what might happen.So
I stood a few feet away and acted like I was incredibly interested in
Life Savers.
Steve walked up to the counter and asked for a Playboy.The skin mags were kept behind the cash register, you
couldn’t just mix them in with Sports
Illustrated
and Rolling Stone
and hope nobody noticed.
The guy just stared at Steve, then said, “Oh yeah?Then what are you going to do, go home and jack
off?”There was much emphasis placed on the final two words, and I
decided it was a good time for me to leave.
A few seconds later Steve came out of the store with the magazine, and
a face so red I was glad we were going to a hospital anyway.It looked like something vital in his brain might give out.…And I don’t think I stopped laughing until sometime the
following afternoon.
So there you go…I hope
you’ve enjoyed this edition of Highly
Inappropriate Shop Clerks.Tune in next week for more shocking tales from the dark side of
minimum wage retailing…
--And since we’re on the
subject of high class individuals, check this one out.It’s a story from the Charleston
Daily Mail,
former home of Charley West, and the source of my entire paperboy
income when I was but an ugly teenager.
--Any opinions on this camera?I’ve been doing a ridiculous amount of research, and am
currently zeroed-in that one.Of
course, this might change fifteen times between now and the actual day
of purchase.But what do you
think?Would it be a wise
choice for an Ugly American in London?I need confirmation, dammit.
--Before I recycle an old
previously-used Question of the Day, a quick heads up:there probably won’t be an update on Friday.Toney’s taking the day off, and we’re going to attempt
to finish up our Christmas shopping.She
likes to get an early start, she doesn’t much care for the Jeff Kay
style of eeeeeasing
into the day, so Friday’s probably not gonna happen for us here.Just thought you should know.
BTW, how’s your shopping going?I
haven’t bought a single thing, nothing.I wrote down a few ideas in my notebook, but there’s been no
further action to date.Pass
the beer nuts.
--And finally, a blast from
the past.This is taken from
October 2004, and I hope you guys will respond to the Question once
again, or for the first time, or whatever.
Clive Bull, my favorite
British radio "presenter," was talking about this
story yesterday. Apparently some people in Peru are raising a freakish, mutated breed of "super" guinea pig, for
eating purposes. They think they're on the forefront of a
full-blown guinea pig revolution, and the entire world will soon be
dining on the critters and fighting over the drumsticks. I somehow
doubt it, but something was said during the conversation that piqued
my interest.
A
caller mentioned that, on the average, a person in The West only eats
5.5 different animals in their lives. The insinuation was that we're a
fairly timid and unadventurous group of folks. Apparently they eat
anything that casts a shadow back East. Because they're more
enlightened, you see, and we're just a buncha dumbass woodhicks.
Anyway,
it got me to thinking. How many different kinds of animals have I
ingested in my time? Operating under Clive's rule that all seafood
should to be lumped under the heading of "fish," here's what
I came up with:
cows
chickens
turkeys
pigs
lambs
fish
buffalos
crocodiles
That's
eight, well above the average, thank you very much. How about you? Let
us know your Carnivore Count in the comments section. I suspect Buck
will be up around twenty, with coon and possum near the top of his
list. But I could be wrong...
For
the record I had crocodile at some kind of Taste Of The South
festival, in Atlanta. Not too bad, but it got bigger
the longer you chewed. And buffalo burgers are friggin' great.
Especially if it's all hump meat. Hump meat is prime.
Since then, I added bear and snapping turtle and possibly a couple
of others, when I attended a “beast feast” with a guy from my
previous job.
?