I Can’t Think Of A Title

December 10, 2005

Fridays are fun. I told myself I’d lay off the booze for a week, but I keep fucking it up. I tried, but then realized nothing I have is worth preserving and went back to bashing my brains out with cheap alcohol. I wake up and keep busy until work, and then, some time while throwing boxes around, I conclude that there isn’t any reason why I shouldn’t go home and get shitfaced. Health? Yeah, right. Life can get very repetative, especially in a place like this. I think you need to see the world through a pure grain alcohol tint if you’re going to live in this neck of the woods.

Let’s see, what’s new and exciting? Ah, today at work, Turbo throttled the snack machine until it delivered him three treats. Actually, the second and third treats were awarded to Gilberto, the Puerto Rican. Gil was holding a chocolate chip cookie and a bag of chips as the supervisors came out, and he moved sheepishly from person to person before settling at the counter I was leaning against. He had gone over to investigate the goings-on and ended up with food in his hands. Caught red handed, as it were.

It’s harsh calling Adam a retard; he could be called disabled or just slow or perhaps he’s just of a different mindset from people like myself. I don’t know what the perfect person is. I know it isn’t him or me… but I also know that he’s as maladjusted as I could ever be. While I have quite a bit of anxiety and frustrations of all varieties built up inside of me, I don’t think I would ever assault a snack machine or a box of panties (not while being watched, anyway). The stealing of food didn’t faze me so much as Adam’s response to the appearance of authority on the scene, though. Adam didn’t even put the thing back. The machine was left about a foot and a half from the wall, the cord dangling helplessly. He shook that corrupt vender several feet across the concrete floor in his violent episode… payback for the overpriced treats he’s wasted so many shiney quarters on… and then he just left it. Apparently, he hadn’t realized how much noise he was making until somebody showed up. He was off somewhere in Autism Land shaking down the Pop-Tart fairy, and when he snapped back into reality, he decided to leave everything right where it was and act as if nothing had happened. Yes, nobody will know — not until they go to get a Duchess Honey Bun on Monday and realize they’re standing further away from the wall than usual. That’ll throw those fuckers for a loop, Adam. Good man.

And that’s really about it for the exciting goings on in my life today. Yeah. I know.

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