Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Multiple Misfits

It's been a terribly slow day at work. We closed the last of our clients real estate deals yesterday, most of our accounting clients have already given us their quarterly payroll figures for their 2nd quarter returns and I've finished all of my transcription duties for the day. So while The Boss has his feet propped up on his desk, slung back in his comfy cozy Big Boss Chair 'n is just a-snoozin' away, I figured I'd try to get online 'n get in a days blog post....before I get home 'n crash out. I've got plenty o' current events stuff to update y'all with, so if I can just get my thought pattern to work well enuff 'n quick enuff 'n get this all down before The Boss comes to, we'll be good.....and hopefully, I won't get fired in the interim. So here we go.

My day began in the usual manner and that is, by bein' force fed all of the dirty daily gossip stories about all of our local misfits by someone who just so happens to go in the same vicinity as my job....someone who really needs to just shut up 'n get herself a damn job. I'm sure ya know the type of woman I'm talkin' about....the kinda woman who's like an annoyin' puss-filled butt pimple...one that spews forth the foulest kinda stuff 'n one that just won't go away. I swear, she thrives on this gossip shit. I think she gets off on it. She's always front 'n center in the action.

So she begins by tellin' me how over the weekend she colored her hair but that she ONLY colors her hair when she's alone in the house. She waits for her kids 'n brother to leave 'n then she promptly strips from the waist up, bra 'n all, so that she won't get any hair dye on her clothing. When I ask her what's wrong with wearin' an old t-shirt or a towel over her shoulders like *I* do, she boasts how she can't stand the feelin' of anything up around her neck {which immediately brought to mind the thought of my HANDS goin' up around her neck, but I contained myself}. Now trust me, the mental image of this short, roley-poley, scar-faced, butchly-haircutted woman runnin' around with gobs of goo drippin' down her naked torso ain't a pretty one....cuz SHE ain't anywhere near a pretty one.....and its one that NOBODY outta be forced to have first thing in the a.m. Thank God I didn't eat anything yet.

Without even takin' a breath in between she then goes on to tell me how two female methadonian Missfits got into a fist fight first thing in the a.m., and how both of 'em ended up behind bars as an after effect. Apparently one walked by the other 'n gave her the finger. Somebody immediately saw this 'n ratted out the finger-giver....to which the finger-givee quickly upped 'n ran after the finger-giver 'n started beatin' her brains in on the sidewalk. As this was goin' on, the finger-givee's husband stood in front of the two head slammin' bitches 'n was eggin' his wife on to beat the shit outta the finger-giver harder than she was. Swarms of cop cars came swoopin' down the block 'n snatched the both of 'em up. And all this took place before 7 a.m. Whadda way to start the day.

As she's tellin' me this story, another methadonian Missfit comes walkin' up 'n proceeds to complain about some pill-headed cock-eyed bent-over cryin' freak....we'll refer to her as Jane...who owes her money but who keeps on ditchin' her. THIS story actually left me with an open gapin' mouth, and here's why: apparently the girl who's owed the cash tried on numerous occasions to call the pill-headed cock-eyed bent-over cryin' freak Jane to get some money outta her, but its what she told us next that left me speechless. The few times that she did call, the pill-headed freak would answer her phone with the guise that she's "the answerin' machine". Jane's "message" consisted of the following: "Jane isn't here right now. She's in the Poconos for the weekend. She's gone upstate to see the house that her boyfriend is building for her. It's even got horses. Jane will be away all weekend and she won't be home again until Monday. You can leave her a message when you hear the beep". Oh yes, Jane even goes on to mouth the "beeeeeeeeeep" sound at the end of the message when in all actuality there ain't any damn message machine in her house; its just lil' Miss Jane herself, stammerin' 'n stutterin' 'n slurrin' her "recorded" words. Did I mention that "Jane" claims this "boyfriend" of hers....this boyfriend who's mother is supposedely a doctor 'n who's father is supposedely a judge no less....is supposedely building this upstate home for her all by his lil' self with his own bare hands? This is the same "boyfriend" who camped out in a sleepin' bag on Jane's front lawn all winter long cuz he got kicked outta the shelter. Can u say "delusional bitch"?

Now, puttin the delusional stories about the boyfriend/upstate home behind, I've gotta admit, that was a FIRST for me. I mean, I've heard of folks doin' somethin' like that when they pick up their phone as a joke when a friend or so calls, but this sick twisted bent-over bitch actually believes she's gettin' over on people. I was also informed that this same bitch spends over $200 a month to pump herself full o' drugs, yet she's ecstatic about the $5 haircut she gets from the students at the local beauty school. She REFUSES to pay any more than $5, and insists that she has "beautiful shiny bouncy hair that looks just like Farrah Fawcett's hair". Yeah, riiiiiiight......drippy faucet head is more like it. This bitch is always so doped up that she can't even hold her fuckin' head UP straight. How the hell anybody, student or not, can cut her hair is beyond me.

I kid ya not about ANY of this. I couldn't cook this shit up if I hadda fuckin' recipe to follow.

And that when I decided I'd had enuff. I'd heard enuff. I politely excused myself from the torturous talk 'n I went about my merry way. Onto Mickey D's for a nice hot cup o' jo 'n a newspaper to sit 'n read it with. That's my down time. Before the shit hits the fan at work. Only today, I was fortunate enuff that nobody had any diarrhea to contend with.

And last but not least, to top off my nice quiet day at work this afternoon, as The Boss Man is takin' an after snooze 'n while I'm sittin' at my desk I hear a loud commotion comin' from the hallway. I can hear the "pound pound pound" of someone's feet runnin' down the uncarpeted hallway, only it sounded more like "pound pound pound times two". I can tell its two lil' kids playin' around. I listen to this go on up 'n down the hallway, back 'n forth, yellin' 'n screamin' as they're runnin' one way then the other. My patience level has just about hit a brick wall. I decide to get up 'n see what's goin' on. I open the door and there halfway down the hallway I see the two lil' culprits. Two young kids, one who looked about 10 years old 'n the other around 5 or 6. Two boys, naturally, with their hyperactive selves, with no parent anywhere to be found. They don't see me right away as I stood out in the middle of the hall. But then, as they were comin' back down towards me, they spotted me 'n stopped....and then they quickly sat down on the floor like the two unsuspectin' lil' angels they thought they were. I just stood there 'n glared at 'em both. Hard. I just stayed 'n stared. I didn't wanna open my mouth cuz I knew I'd be uncontrollable with my words. But the glarin' actually worked. I was amazed! It NEVER worked for any of MY kids. But they got up, brushed themselves off, then they walked into whatever office their mother/father/grandmother/grandfather/guardian musta been in....and I never heard a word outta either of 'em after that. Sometimes silence really IS golden.

And THAT, dear reader(s), was my day, complete with a multitude of misfits and a couple of misguided kids.

Just another day here in The Bowels.

Only God knows WHAT tomorrow will bring.

4 comments:

Danny said...

She actually said beeeeeep? That is hilarious.

Not long ago I was at my mom's and answered her phone with "This is Pizza Hut will this be for delivery or take out?" Caller ID had let me know who it was and I was playing a little joke on mom's friend. She replied with "Sorry, wrong number" then hung up. As she did I guess she realized it was me and got a bit bent out of shape about it. Haven't heard the end of it since.

The Peach Tart said...

That would have called for a big cocktail after work

Lady Ridesalot said...

Laughing about the answering machine. What a goob! LOL!

How do you travel to work? Are you on a bus or subway? I can imagine the frustration of trying to avoid unwanted convos! >;{

I would create a "look". The look that says, "Say one word... and I'll rip your head off and spit down your neck!" LOL!

Maybe that's the look you gave those two creatures running the halls! LOL again!!

Peach Tart said it... Sounds like you need some "Happy Hour"!

mq01 said...

i have two thoughts... vokda... lots... LOL!!!