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Where's A Sketch Artist When You Need One?

Due to a recent request, this is explaining the April 3rd entry and what went down at the Ben shoot out. And Brian, please don't turn gay on me because of this entry.... ;)

To explain who Ben is, he is a pale-skinned 6'3" socially inept 17-year-old coworker of mine who developed a gigantic crush on me after our first heated argument over whether Danjou pears were number 4416 or 4016 (seeing how that was my first week, I lost the argument, much to his delight). A matter of days later, I ended up isolated in a register next to him for a whole frikkin' hour, arguing back and forth about the most idiotic and irrelevant things, and him telling every other customer how he thought I thought I wanted him liked him loved him. All of which were met with my raucous laughter and his slightly-injured look. It escalated to one point where he made a comment that should never have crossed the threshold of his lips, and I talked to him about it, and ended up mentioning it to a manager when he asked me about a moment I had with Ben. In otherwords, I have little or no patience for him, and he has in no way earned it.

So the other day at work, I took him off his register so he could have his 15-minute break. Well, his break ends, and since the register was closest to the clock I couldn't miss him coming back from break. So he comes back and then proceeds to bag the two gum packs left from a hundred-dollar order, grinning idiotically at me. "So you gonna take me off?" I ask, waiting to get ponged to the next cashier in need of relief. "No, they said I need to do something else."

"Well, since you here, you gonna bag for me?"

"Well, maybe I will, maybe I won't."

"Unh-uh, you get your butt over here and back this order for me."

In the typical Taunting Idiot form, he shoots back with this sophomoric "Well, I don't have to stay here, I am a free man, I don't have to bag this for you," as if he were holding something over my head.

"Well fine then, leave, who needs you!"

With an affronted look, he looked at me in bewilderment, because how can you argue with that response? Now, no one is terribly crazy about Ben, he has obnoxiously hit on every not-interested female in the staff and in the service line, does not know when to shut up, and takes the greatest pleasure in tattooing KNOW IT ALL to his forehead, hiding the 666 ink in the dark hair at the nape of his neck. So it was with exquisite pleasure I heard dear dear Eric one register over call out on cue "OOOOOO....SHOT DOWN!"

Comments

Deb said…
I'm glad you explained this--I wondered about it after I read your earlier post.

Also: you are TOO funny. I love the part about the tatoo and 666!
Anonymous said…
have I ever told you just HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU heather?



that was RIOTOUS!

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