I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Perhaps, I Shouldn't Self-Medicate Out Of The Pharmacy Dumpster.

I just lost the job I had held for, like forever, or almost a year. And it is really making me depressed. Or rather, more depressed than I was before. And also, more angry. And more cry-ey. And laugh-ey. Just more emotion-ey, in general.
This is what happened. My boss called me into his office and asked me to sit down. So, I did.
"No idiot, sit in the chair." 
"Waaaahh! Thank you, sir."
"Why are you crying? I'm sorry I called you an idiot."
"It's not that sir. It's just that chairs make me so sad."
"Chairs? Chairs make you sad."
"Yes. Think of all the people who have died in chairs. It's just so, so sad."
"That's stupid. People spend much more time alive in chairs, than they spend dead in chairs."
"Except for the electric chair."
"Well yes, that one is more associated with death. But, I assure you that isn't a death chair in any way."
"Maybe somebody used this chair to commit suicide with."
"Somebody could've kicked this chair over as they hung themselves."
"I bought this chair new. Nobody committed suicide on it."
"Maybe it was the guy at the factory who made it. Maybe he was so in dept to his bookie, because he had lost his bet on the Olympic fencing finals and his wife had left him for a merchant sailor named Salty Gertrude and his children had joined a cult based on the show Firefly and they had disowned him and his dog kept running away because he was embarrassed of Francis..."
"Yeah, Francis. That's the name of the guy who made this chair. And then one day it was all, just too much and he finished this chair and then stepped up on it and put his neck through the noose and kicked off and ACK! that was the end of Francis. And that just makes me so sad."
"You're loony."
"Thank you sir, I'll be going then, shall I?"
"No, you idiot. Sit back down. No, dammit! SIT DOWN IN THE CHAIR! There, that's better. What I wanted to talk to you about, is that we have been getting some calls about you being a little overly emotional with the customers lately."
"Now you see? That's what I'm talking about."
"I'LL KILL YOU T... No, no. I'm sorry sir. I have been a little stressed lately, I'm sorry. I'll try and work on it."
"For instance; when one of the customers asked if there was anything they should be doing in the way of maintenance. Did you in fact tell him, that you should 'cave his stupid effin' head in?'"
"Maybe, sir. He did say maintenance in a very patronizing manner. As if he was all better than me and such."
"Wasn't he your pastor?"
"Mister high and mighty, more like."
"And did you recently yell at a female customer 'back off you filthy ho, I'm married?!'"
"Possibly. She was a real hussy."
"She was seventy."
"In a wheelchair."
"Wanton woman."
"Asthmatic. On oxygen."
"Round heels."
"She asked you how much the invoice was!"
"That's code, for she wanted to canoodle with me!"
"That's code for, she wanted to know how much the invoice was for!"
"I'm not sleeping with you either!"
"Shut up, you spaz! Lastly, did you in fact, spend the whole day, last Friday crying hysterically?"
"You didn't? I only ask, because every client you talked to on Friday, called in and said you were a sobbing wreck. Some described you as a broken shell of a man (several used that one), and others said that you were pathetic and sad in a particularly unlikable way. Also somebody said, you were a complete and total, crybaby douche. That one was from your Aunt Verna, I believe."
"I didn't cry all day. At my last stop of the day, I was overcome with joy and laughter. Things just seemed so very funny."
"Your last stop?"
"Yes. The last one."
"The one at the funeral home?"
"Oh yes. I was struck by how funny it was to see all the little sheep in their stupid conformist suits and ties."
"There was a funeral going on."
"I know! And you can't spell funeral without FUN! Hahaha."
"Actually, I think the policemen in the lobby there would like to talk to you about that."
"Oh. Hey! I remember those guys! They were at the funeral. Hey guys! Hi. Remember me? Hmm, they don't seem to be in any better of a mood today."
"They are going to have a little talk with you downtown, OK?"
"Sounds GREAT! Should I come back when I'm done?"
"No. I don't think you should come back."
"Yea! Vacation! ... Oh wait, I'm being fired?"
"Oh, don't cry. I'm sure you'll find something better. Something not here."
"(sob) It's not the job, or the money. It's the fact that I'll have to spend more time at home. And there's chairs at my house! I just can't get away from the chairs."