The spics disappear at noon. (480 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 0.4 on 7 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by mc (View user info) at 2006-07-21 18:31:02 EDT
I Turn the solid brass handle and nudge open the door to the supply room with my toe. A waft of hot, stale air intrudes my nostrils and envelopes my face at the same time. "Why the fuck is it so hot in here..." I mutter to myself. A glance at the thermostat bolted to the wall on my right confirmed my suspicions; it reads an un-godly indoor temperature of 95 degrees. "Jesus Christ, AC is out again up here?" I think it this time rather than say it and push the door the rest of the way open continuing to use my foot. The door swings effortlessly in a clockwise arc as I reach my right hand across my chest and slide it up the wall a few inches to find the light switch.
With a flick, two sets of iridescent lights flicker to life and light 8' X 10' room. Glancing upwards and to the left, I can see the tote full of electrical supplies that I need. It's perched on a few printers and toner cartridges, all of which are piled atop a 7' shelf. I survey the scene for a minute, searching for a ladder or stepstool of some kind. Noticing nothing readily available, I take two short strides to the set of industry shelves and stand on tip-toe. I reach up to steady the stack of printers with one hand and to grab the tote handle with the other. I can almost reach it! I'm now on tip-toe, both arms outstretched, and my right hand's fingertips are 1/4" away from the green plastic handle; my forehead has given birth to a slight mist of sweat.
"D' ya need any help!"
A shout more than a question, causing a momentary flinch of my left hand that supported the printer that was, apparently, holding the entire cluster fuck together. Printers, ink toner and small electrical supplies began to rain down upon my head and outstretched arms as if a small British army had decided to launch office projectiles at a staple-raiding ogre. The handle of the tote was the last thing I saw go careening past my left eye before I twirled, ducked and covered like a little bitch; arms crossed over my head, squatting a few inches off the ground.
Framed in the doorway I see the outlined silhouette of a man...
"Jimmy - What the fuck dude?" I question indignantly.
"Sorry, ah just though you mi' need some help." the man replies.
Jimmy offers me his hand, which I politely decline. I straighten up to an accompanying gunshot of knee popping and a dull throb from my forehead. Before me stands a collector. What he lovingly dubs antiques the rest of the world calls garbage. After seeing photographs I agree with the latter. I can almost taste his sun baked aroma of a habitual 3 pack-a-day smoker mingled with underlying tones of discarded coffee grounds, day old bacon and irregular bathing habits.
"It's cool man." I finally say.
"Jeez, ya made a mess ah the place eh?" Jimmy says in wonder, crooked mustache moving hypnotically to an unheard rhythm on his upper lip and eyes wide.
"Yup, all me man, all me." I spit despondently as I roll my eyes.
"And after eye spent all day t' other day re-arranging it." He says as he shakes his wild orange shock of hair and horn rimmed glasses wearing head in disbelief.
Thinking to myself that he has to be joking, I quickly start picking up the printers and other items and arranging them neatly along the empty bottom shelf. "Yeah, clumsy me." I sigh, "What can I help you with Jimbo?"
"Nothin' really ma'an. Jus' makin' shoor that you know all the rools about eatin' and such. Bein' as u're new to the comp'ny and all." He states matter-of-factly.
"What do you mean, 'rules of eating.'" I say unemotionally, continuing my work of arranging printers and toner supplies on the lower shelf.
"Yah no man, about them spics." He whispers. "And how they allays disappear exactly at noon."
Finding myself unsurprised that Jimmy is a racist, I finish organizing the junk along the bottom shelf and turn my attention to the green plastic tote that had been the purpose of this whole affair. Now a slight bit intrigued, I sarcastically whisper "No Jimmy, please explain this phenomenon of disappearing Mexicans to me."
He bends down and slightly forward, hands on his knees as if he were in a SuperBowl huddle and continues with his whispering dialogue. "The wetbacks get a ha'f hour break from the machine shop for lunch e'ry day at ele'en tharty." He looks side to side when speaking as if the world's smallest undercover Chicano might have wedged himself between the tall shelving units. I know the important part has arrived when he's stops the wiper blade motion and looks directly at me with eyes the size of saucer plates. "So from ele'en tharty to noon don't go in the break room. You'll regret it."
Shocked and a little appalled I thank him for his advice.
"No pro'lem ma'an. Jus' lookin' out for yah!" he exclaims as he cheerily claps me on the shoulder.
"I went in there once and never seen a bigger bunch of fackin' racists in my life!" he cries out. "They talk all thar spanglishy shit about you and point and laugh! Oh! And, get this, they don' evan use forks fa' Christ sake! Godless heathens!" he exclaims.
Turning on a dime, he parades out of the doorway and down the hall leaving me shaking my head in amazement at how this man achieved a receiving manager position...
User Reviews
Submitted by mc (user info) at 2006-07-26 16:32:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Honestly? Yes. It was a mediocre effort at best. I'm not saying I'm the next Stephen King (far from it) but I have better.
*dies*
Submitted by SilvrWolf (user info) at 2006-07-24 08:28:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Needs a little work but I believe the response has turned out better than expected, no?
Oh yeah, -2die.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-07-21 22:54:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
"oh, the snakes crawl at night, that's what they saaaaaayyyyyy..."
-Charlie Pride
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2006-07-21 22:48:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
"receiving manager position"
sounds painful if not uncomfortable....o well, to each his own
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-07-21 18:39:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
wait, they come back too?
darn.
Submitted by mc (user info) at 2006-07-21 18:33:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
goddamit. I had it all past tense and changed to preset...looks like I forgot one section. Sorry uber!
-mc
Submitted by The_Cyst_Master (user info) at 2006-07-21 18:31:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Probably.