Odd Jobs.

I’ve had all sorts of food service positions, complete with bizarre customers and even weirder coworkers, but my oddest job was the 2 weeks I spent assisting a 400 pound ex-Marine from Long Island with his plant nursery in Durham. He really just needed someone (some girl) to watch the place while he tended to his far more lucrative landscaping contracts.

My first day there, as I was reading in the “office,” a beat-up red Mustang (of course) came zipping down the driveway, stopping in a dust cloud directly in front of my door. Out of the driver’s seat jumped an irate, mulleted man, “Troy” (double of course) who started howling and cussing and telling me to, “tell [Boss] that fat son-of-a-bitch to quit talking shit about me, that mother-fucker [etc., etc.]….” Meanwhile, apparently oblivious to her boyfriend’s tantrum, his reedy, washed-out companion was explaining that she just needed to pick up her vacuum cleaner.

I can’t exactly remember how I got rid of them, although I think it involved staring directly in Le Redneck’s face and yelling (to the best of my freaked-out ability), “You can see [Boss] is not here! Do you see his truck? No!” repeatedly until he stormed back to his car, girlfriend (still sans vacuum) in tow, and peeled out of the driveway.

When my boss came back, I told him about my morning. His response: “I’mma break his face.”

I didn’t last long.

Ima Brakyoface just made me laugh out loud. WILL YOU PLEASE MOVE HERE. And how the hell come did I never hear about the slug catcher job? Huh?!??!? HUH??!!!!!

To M: that man woulda scared the shit out of me!