Thursday, April 23, 2009

Plaid-Lad is dead :(

Well, hell and damn. I guess that's that. I've been let go. They never said fired though, so I get to put down "Left under favorable conditions" until they say otherwise.

Can't say I'll miss that job.

US Air Force, HERE I COME!

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Has Plaid Lad met his match?

Has Plaid Lad finally met his match?

Is this the end for our intrepid hero?

In what very well may be the final episode of Plaid Lad, our hero goes face to face with The Sting!

Paperwork and possible legal disputes aplenty ahead.

(Yeah, I might be getting fired on false pretenses. Anyone who's shopped at my store knows I'm an ID Nazi when it comes to alcohol and tobacco sales.)

Monday, April 13, 2009

Old notes

For the first month or two, I kept notes of every nights shift and wrote down each and every weird thing that happened. It was tedious, but it worked. Suppose I should start that up again, though it's still difficult to tell what's weird anymore. I'm getting jaded.

Anyway, here are some gems that didn't really merit full entries but are still fun.

A very drunk older man who must have been in his mid to late sixties came into the store and spoke at length on early Japanese film. Recommended that I watch Seven Samurai, Yojimbo and Fist Full of Dollars which I think he said was an americanized retelling of one of the other movies.

Back when The Voiceless was still coming into my store, she once dug a large coffee cup out of the trash and wanted to refill it. You could see the filth clinging to it from 15-20 feet away.

An older woman came in and just got some hot water, (which we don't charge for), so she could make some of her own tea in her own cup. She apparently really didn't want to get something for free though, because she inisted on paying for it. I think I charged her for a creamer-packet or something small like that.

I suppose it's worth mentioning that almost every day, some old man comes in the store at almost exactly 7am and buys tremendous amounts of the most cost effective alcohol we've got. Mm-mm, Hurricane HG: Tastes like turpentine poured over corn flakes.

There is one man who returned to my store yesterday, that creeps me out particularly badly.
An older man, likely in his 50's, his hair the color of iron and combed into the most boring 50's hair style possible, he stares out at the world, eyes fixed just a bit above the horizon... even if he's indoors. He will stand far to close to other customers and either mumble to himself of terrors unheard of even in dreams*, or cough spasmodically, over and over for well beyond a minute and a half, all the while gyrating his head like a bird and his eyes bulging.

The most terrifying thing about this man, however, is that once you have witnessed all these bizarre traits and behaviors, only then do you hear him speak.

His is the kind of voice you expect to hear on a children's show. High pitched, sedated and cooing. Combined with his often bulging, non-focusing eyes and him trying to lean across the counter to get closer to me, something in me is even more terrified of this man than the kid with the knife.

* Ph'nglui mglw'nafh C'thulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn