The End Of An ErrorMay 22, 2008 at 10:41 PM | Posted in Riding In Cars With Pizza | Leave a comment
This Sunday is the Last Day For Scooters. They are closing their doors.
I’m not going to go into the whys and wherefores; however, it’s not the economy. It might be the *local* economy, though. This town, this city of O’Fallon, MO has grown by leaps and bounds in the last ten years. Bursting at the seams, it is. Some experts project that it will become the 3rd largest city in the state in a few years–behind only the City Of St Louis and Kansas City, MO. But that should be good for business, right? Population boom, more customers?
Have you ever gone shopping on Christmas Eve? Ever happen to see a crowd? It’s then that you realize that everybody and their uncle, cousin, brother, aunt and baby-mamma had the same idea: Let’s open a fucking restaurant. The slogan for O’Fallon should be "No local culture–but more restaurants than you can shake your dick at."
Combine that with other business-specific issues–
I almost the damn restaurant 4 years ago. What a cluster fuck I would be in now….
But mostly, they were good years. Especially after how I was used and abused at Domino’s, this was a cartharsis. One boss, who was a friend–who had been through the same BS I had been through.
No supervisors rolling through, telling you what you should have done. No corporate shills nitpicking for mistakes. The only people we had to answer to was the health department.
Ha! No nametags! That was the rule.
In ten years, I’ve seen alot of employees roll through.
Larry, who I’ve known since the early 90s from Domino’s, and is still there. Older than me and never been married…when he had to sell his house (which he bought a couple of years ago, moving out of his mother’s house at age 45) to avoid foreclosure, he may have given up on the fairy tale that he might still get married and have kids. Good luck with that one, dude.
Rick, who I saw the other night–another throwback from Domino’s. A funny, funny guy. But not as funny as he thinks he is. Not like me.
Sean the Spaz. From the early days. So was Mike. However, Mike fucked Sean’s wife, and one of them had to leave. Sean left. He came back recently–was it a year ago?–before moving to Oregon.
Let’s see, we had a short hairy Italian whose name I forget. He cheated on his wife with Melissa, who worked for us when she was separated from her husband.
Mike fucked her too. Melissa actually wanted to fuck me, maybe because she wanted to complete her set. When I rebuked her (unknowingly, Because I’m oblivious), she came up with a plan to entrap me in a sexual harassment suit. It fell apart because she was stupid, and we never saw her again. But–proof again that I’m not kidding, chicks really do dig me.
Another girl worked there–what was her name? I don’t know, but Mike fucked her once as well. Jen? Hmm. And then Krystal. Krystal was there almost from the beginning? No, but from early times. How long has she been gone? Two years ago she got married. Two years before that she left Scooters. She worked for us for four years. So she came in at about the four year mark. Krystal will always be my favorite. She joined us right out of high school, worked for us while she went to school to earn her teaching degree, and then got a job teaching.
And then she met a man from the Air Force. He came back from Iraq, and then was going to be deployed to Turkey. They got married, and she went with. Krystal will always be my favorite.
We’ve had our share of retards. Ed looked like a sex change gone horribly awry and acted like he was on downers. I hired a couple of clowns that were friends, they lasted almost two weeks. Idiots, the both of them. Josh was the character I wrote about in Happy New Year, Sucka, and Curtis was the theme of Beer Buddy.
Another Curtis was a fag but a good worker–but he suffered from the prima donna syndrome: He felt he was the best, he should be in charge, he should get a raise. But listen buddy, you deliver food and do dishes. This ain’t rocket science. It’s not even earth science. Astrology, maybe.
Let’s see..we had a dude named Shannon. Young cocky blonde dude. And a Wiccan. The thing about Wiccans–or maybe it was just him–was that, no matter what you said when you were trying to understand his beliefs, you were always wrong. I did an experiment. He explained something to me, and the very next day I said, "So is it like this?–" and repeated his phrasing verbatim. He said, "No, that’s not right." Because I wasn’t in his little thing I would just never "get" it. Dickhead. He sold me a laptop….that was fucked up. Then the bastard skipped town.
At one time or another we had some inside people. Kelly was Krystal’s friend, and went out with the owner’s son Josh (different Josh) a few years ago. She…man, she smelled nice. She’s in the Air Force now, I think. Kelsea, the owner’s daughter, came to work for us for a while also. She was nicer than she let on that she was.
Chris worked for us for a while–and then after he left his sister Jodi came in. Then Jodi’s friend Megan came in. After a while, Jodi left–just recently, really. Then Megan’s friend Jamie came to work. It’s always nice to have cute girls to work with. Jamie is a cute little red head with a tiny, cute little butt. And she smells nice. Fuckin 19 years old, too. I love barely legal porn.
Before the girls came on we had Ted. Ted was the fucker responsible for me smoking cigars. He was a big guy, like me. But uglier. And he would wander around aimlessly, or follow me. I was wandering around aimlessly, and he followed me. Then I turned around and there he was. I said,"Jesus! Quit following me around like a damn dog!"
Derek was with us for a while as a driver. He got pissed at me one night, and decided he could run shifts. After that, we got along. He left to become a truck driver. His wife is a hot red head, but she is psychobitch crazy, worse than my ex. Seriously. I don’t care if she can suck start a leaf blower and flames come out of her ass when you fuck her, I wouldn’t put up with the shit he puts up with. And I’ve put up with alot.
Sean the Philosopher we’ve had for a while–and he just recently quit, which was odd. Early on, I did not like him. Now, I either like him…or just got used to him. I think he grew up a bit is what actually happened. But he still says completely whacked-out shit. He starts with "Atlantis" and then makes a hard left down Batshit Crazy Boulevard and ignores posted speed limits.
Jay worked with us for a while–a friend of Scott’s and a golf pro. Worked at a golf course during the day–in the winter he picked up some hours in the evening with us. Another odd duck. He was a cook. Another guy hired to cook and run shifts–I don’t remember his name, but we got rid of him. He claimed to know me from Domino’s and I don’t remember him. But every time I turned around he had his head in the walk in and a mouth full of food. And there was Dohn–and that makes three Jehovah’s Witnesses we had working for us. One was an idiot, one was a closet gay and control freak. Dohn was cool, and normal. Very nice guy. Married recently–hey, he owes me money!
Been throw a few losers recently–little Scotty, the one who broke into the place, and Matt, who–as bad as his drug problems were, his problem with lying was even worse. And then his friend Alex. Alex is great compared to Matt. But that’s not saying much. Alex is just a typical lazy fuckin kid, a stoner.
Most recent acquisition is Sean. Blonde Sean or New Sean we call him. Nice guy–we talk computers and stuff alot, he’s a good guy. Kinda feel bad for him that we are closing–he needs to get a job. He’s blond with light skin and so is his wife–I told him if they have any kids they’re going to be albino.
Of course I can’t forget Todd, who I recently wrote about in Watch Out For The Man. And there’s The Dude. I was worried about him–I always am–but he just found another job. As the fear of closing loomed over our heads it was more stress than he could take.
So now what?
Well, I still have my job at Domino’s Pizza. Between the two, I was working five nights. Now I’m working three nights–after this week, one. So I’m going to pick up one more night, like a Wednesday or Thursday. Even if it’s at another store. That would be enough to make up (most of) the shortfall of those two days. The point is, however, that I won’t be working Saturday night anymore. I’m going to actually have a real weekend. I’ve always worked the weekend. When I was manager I often worked Friday-Saturday-Sun. My "weekend" was Monday…..and Wednesday. Even when I started to get Sundays off, I still worked Friday and Saturday night. And working late on those days means you sleep late the next day, which is exactly what I do now when I close on Friday night. I sleep till noon, get up, eat something, lie around, and then go to work.
To have the weekend off–to have the whole two days spread before me like an eager but nervous virgin–this is a prize beyond measure.
But I am going to miss the place.