Life is like a library, sometimes you get checked out, sometimes you get checked in, sometimes you are left to molder on a shelf and then sometimes you get lost. The library staff mostly impresses me as those who got lost on their way to some other place.
Julia definitely got lost. She's middle forties and pretty much complains all day. She even complains as a means of greeting and goodbye. To this date I have never met anyone who complained about so little or so much. She works the checkout desk and complains. Still she is a great source for the network of who was doing what to whom and where in the stacks it might be taking place.
Cesspool Samson is another lost soul. He is a mountain of a man and I mean mountain like 4 to 5 hundred pounds of unwashed man who moves rarely, always works late and often is left alone. The reason for his nickname is that his BO was so overpowering that no one could be close to him for more than a minute or two before dry heaving ensued or worse- not dry heaving!
I felt bad for Cesspool and tried to never refer to him as such but it was hard since it seemed he never got the hints about washing. I mean I felt sorry for him at a distance.
That is until shift change one night not long ago, Hervey rolls in and says with a wicked SE grin on his face. "CP is out of gas-"
I mention that could be a good thing since one had to be very careful lighting up around him.
Then Hervey drops his own bomb.
"The chief wants to know if you would go get him some gas on your way out."
Damn my luck
Damn my inability to say no.
Julia definitely got lost. She's middle forties and pretty much complains all day. She even complains as a means of greeting and goodbye. To this date I have never met anyone who complained about so little or so much. She works the checkout desk and complains. Still she is a great source for the network of who was doing what to whom and where in the stacks it might be taking place.
Cesspool Samson is another lost soul. He is a mountain of a man and I mean mountain like 4 to 5 hundred pounds of unwashed man who moves rarely, always works late and often is left alone. The reason for his nickname is that his BO was so overpowering that no one could be close to him for more than a minute or two before dry heaving ensued or worse- not dry heaving!
I felt bad for Cesspool and tried to never refer to him as such but it was hard since it seemed he never got the hints about washing. I mean I felt sorry for him at a distance.
That is until shift change one night not long ago, Hervey rolls in and says with a wicked SE grin on his face. "CP is out of gas-"
I mention that could be a good thing since one had to be very careful lighting up around him.
Then Hervey drops his own bomb.
"The chief wants to know if you would go get him some gas on your way out."
Damn my luck
Damn my inability to say no.
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