Oh Me, Oh My, What a Terrible Time to Fly

I've decided I'm going to detail my ridiculous job history.  It's pretty silly.  I've worked with lots of strange people, probably more than the average human.  So, enjoy!

My first job was absolutely cranially incomprehensible.  I drove a truck to strange and far places.  But the driving of the truck was not the sole purpose of the job.  On the back of the truck were large pieces of rolled plastic, which when introduced to air erected into large boxes of temporary joy and happiness otherwise known as moon-bounces.  I drove these pleasure palaces and left them with complete strangers for a few summers, mostly by myself (though I did work with him, and him for a bit).  I was essentially a mail man.  A mail man who delivered huge packages that eventually had to be taken back to the post office at the protest of crying children.

(I realize there were no people mentioned in that...)

My next job was... at Dunkin Donuts.  I worked there for a day.  That is all.

After that I went to work for a hotel restaurant.  I worked in the kitchen.  I washed dishes.  It was terrible.  There I worked with a mustache bearing, 5' nothing, nearly deaf, absolutely out of her skull insane woman.  I mean this woman would chew paint off a wall if she could wrap her mouth around it.  Together her and I washed dishes.  She taught me many things.  She taught me how to use an industrial dishwasher and that people still listen to cassette tapes.  She also enjoyed telling me every cassette that she ever purchased or considered purchasing.  She also liked telling me her sister's life story.

That job was so terrible that I considered faking my death to quit.  Instead I quit by leaving a message saying I had moved to go to school in Boston.  I hadn't. (Yet)

Next I worked at Pizzeria Uno.  I had three bosses there.  One was the owner, a woman, who did every drug under the sun, and it showed.  One manager was a young version of a human douche.  And the last one was an old version of a human douche, who somehow worked with John McCain on his campaign.  Surely, this manager was the reason for his defeat.

I'm really sick of writing this.  I hope your sick of reading it too!

So let's continue.

On second thought let's not.

Bye.

Ok, I had all this typed by the time I decided to write the above... so DGAF.

 

By my .... fourth? job I was cutting meats and cheeses a local deli.  Here I worked with a convicted arsonist, a wife beater/pedophile/psycho, and a pedophile/psycho/40 year old virgin.  The arsonist believed he could speak every language and that he knew every cheese.  He also spoke in a Southern accent even though he was from Pennsylvania.  He also enjoyed singing songs with a country twang even though most songs require nothing of the sort.  The wife beater/pedophile/psycho was best friends with a cat and covered in tattoos of cartoon characters.  The pedophile/psycho/40 year old virgin was the most normal probably.  He spent most to all of his time in a freezer in the basement of the store and enjoyed hitting on women aged 60 and above while dating an 19 year old.