So I says to Maybel, I says, "You're a useless, god damn whore, a waste of life. Go guzzle down a bottle of bleach, bitch."

Then I realized my mistake. I wasn't talking to Maybel at all! No, I was talking to a guy named Jim, and from what I could see, Jim was big, and black, and pretty fucking pissed.

.....

Anyways, now that I've gotten that out of my system...

So, yeah, work. Fun shit, if you like places that make you want to pull out a semi-automatic machine gun and let your trigger finger go ballistic. Yet, at the same time, I can't help but love the paychecks.

Oh, wait. That's right, they're paychecks. They're the company giving me money for letting me waste away my life at their store. That makes sense now.

So, right, despite the fact that the workplace is horrible beyond imagination, there is something to laugh about, something that actually involves the store.

And that's the names of some of the customers, and the actual prices of some of the more immense of orders. Great customer names include people like Robert E. Lee--an old, mean white guy--and Robin Williams--just a woman that married into the name. As for prices, well, we get to see people who literally spend over five hundred dollars on groceries. It's disgusting, really.

This makes me think, damn, my work situation is kind of like that there Maybel comment. I get to have fun--insulting the hell out of Maybel--but for the most part, it's fucking crazy, like the big, obviously pissed-off black guy that I MISTAKED for Maybel.

SHIT. I almost wish the goddamn pushing robots would come to my work and do away with the place. But no, they don't actually push things, or even exist, for that matter.

...Doesn't matter, I'll probably get hit by a car anyways.