September 2008

Failure

Posted on September 21, 2008 | 5 comments

A guy came in with his kid. They were dressed fairly similarly in wrestling t-shirts, baggy, low-hanging shorts, a Marlboro cologne. They’re explaining their predicament. From their vernacular, I can tell this isn’t the first time in this specific predicament. They had the lingo down pat.

Although it’s not their fault, not their doing, or any other not that deflects blame from them, they are in a predicament that must be dealt with now because,

“This is the last day.”

This is another curious fact about people in this predicament. They always come to me on the last day. As if, after months of hearing the phrase,

“Get the fuck out by this date!”

They feel there is going to be a reprieve or change of heart. Trust me, that never happens. So that’s why they come to visit me as a last minute bailout. And also the reason why so many people come in here angry/flustered/stressed.

I’m talking to the guy who continues to go over why his predicament is not his doing. Okay, fine. I understand. You landlord is an ass because you haven’t paid your rent in months. Yeah, what a bastard! Can we get to the point where you give me money then, in a few months, I begin the task of chasing you for money?

The guy continues and then he uses a phrase I’ve only heard uttered in movies, during interviews with athletes, or by people who watch movies about athletes (by that I mean wrestling fans),

“Failure is not an option.”

I tear off his copy of the lease, hand it to him and say,

“Nope. With you it’s part of the standard package.”

Be Reasonable

Posted on September 17, 2008 | 12 comments

A gentleman bursts into the office and, without greeting of any kind, gets to the point.

“You have to stay open late. My people aren’t going to be here until after you close.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

I could tell by his reaction he was unprepared for such a definitive response. I’m also sure it is why the gentleman’s ire hits a boiling point. I explain that we close at specific times for specific reasons. I like to think of it as my bosses brilliant plan to limit my actual contact with paying customers. The less time spent with them the fewer paper cuts he’ll get reaching into the complaint box.

“I’m not asking.” The gentleman attempts the subtle approach. “I’m telling you.”

It’s with this demand he gives me the evil eye. I always like to see the evil eyes of others. I know they do it because it works. It must or why would they do it? That one time it works makes the six billion other times you did it worthwhile? No, there has to be a percentage that makes it a viable option.

“You are a sweet talker, aren’t you?”

“I’m not kidding. You’re going to stay open if I have to reach over that counter and make you.”

I’m sure most reasonable people would be thinking, ‘Fuck! I wouldn’t even want this asshole here during scheduled working hours.” And they would be right.

But, as we are here to establish, I’m not very reasonable.

“That’s your one, sir.”

“My one what?”

“Threat. I’m good like that. I give everyone a freebie.”

I could tell the gentleman didn’t think I was taking him seriously because he said,

“You’re not taking me seriously.”

“It doesn’t matter how I take you. What matters is your demand, which in and of itself is unwarranted, will not be heeded.”

The gentleman did not like this response either.

“What if I refuse to leave?”

“I will call the police to have you arrested for trespassing.”

“What if I beat the shit out of you?”

“I will add assault to the complaint.”

The gentleman begins to call me all kinds of colorful, schoolyard names.

“I will drive the fucking truck through the fucking door if it’s not open.”

“Breaking and entering. Destruction of property. I’m not a cop but I’m sure they’ll be able to add a few other charges to your list.”

It is now where the gentleman attempts a change in tactic. It’s the old, never change a winning game, always change a losing one. He begins to tell me it’s been a stressful few days, how nothing’s gone right, how this and that is the cause of his aberrant behavior. But never once did he apologize for using me as a backboard for his bad luck. Funny how that works.

“Be reasonable.”

Why is it people who ask you to be reasonable are usually the most unreasonable? Funny how that works.

“If, by reasonable, you mean stay open after our scheduled working hours, the answer is no.”

“Fuck you! You little fucking asshole.”

I love my life! Truly, I do. Who else gets to experience people going from ass to contrite to ass in 3.7 seconds on a daily basis? I’m actually surprised more chests don’t implode from the vacuum created.

I take a look at the big clock on the wall behind him. I notice the big hand is pointing straight up and, do you know what that means boys and girls? That’s right! Asshole Chris gets to walk from behind the counter, slap up his closed sign, and lock the door! Oh, happy day!

“What the fuck are you doing?” The gentleman screams while I’m shutting off the front lights.

“I’m closing the business for the day.” I walk behind the counter and stop in front of him. “What that means is, it’s time for you to leave.”

“I’m not fucking going anywhere.”

“I beg to differ. Now it’s my turn to make ultimatums. You either turn and exit the building right now or I press a little button and summon people who’s job it is to make people exit.”

“I’ll blow up this fucking building with you in it!”

“Cool! That’ll mean my girlfriend will get an awesome insurance check. I now must remind you that that’s your second threat. I only give away one. Now, to prove I’m reasonable, I will give you one minute to regain your composure and exit this building.”

Now it’s a standoff. Standoffs are so stupid. Especially for whomever doesn’t have a button to summon the authorities. The gentleman paces back and forth in the waiting area. I can tell he’s going through all the options he thinks he has. He finally stops pacing, turns, exhales and says.

“Come on, be reasonable.”

“No, it’s time for you to be reasonable because your minute is up.”

I reach my hand under the counter. He steps back while mumbling and walking toward the door.

“I hope you still have someplace to work tomorrow.”

“Me too! I so love our customers.”

#funny #humor #boundandgags #comedy #chriszell