So he comes over the other day, and while I initially simply refused to open the door lest he try to come in, I was hours later dismayed upon exiting to find that he had simply taken to sitting in the bushes around my porch. Whether this was to hide or just feel more comfortable in the dirt I don't know, but anyway.
The stench of moldy teeth on his breath he approached until I, pinned into a corner, could no longer back away from this ragged husk of a man. Then it spoke: "Hey, I know we joke around about me being garbage but I think I finally realize that it wasn't a joke. I am trash and you are all good looking and popular and stuff. How can I turn my pathetic waste of a life around? All I want is to get off the meager government subsidized food rations and out of the section 8 housing the feds give me. I just want a chance to not suck so fucking badly at life. And a shower. Help me."
Now I'm always up for a challenge so I figured what the hell. I'll call it charity work and write it off I thought. I told him to come back in two days, and lacking a car or even money for the bus he returned to the bushes until he saw the mail man come twice (which considering we spoke on Friday afternoon meant he sat three days, what a dipshit). Turns out his Hello Kitty watch is analog and he couldn't read it, and it's also broken so even if he could he would always think its 2:30.
Once he brushed himself off and I turned the hose on him we took some patio furniture (which I later helped him fashion into a makeshift airplane so he could 'fly' home) into the yard and I laid out my plan for his 'future' such as it is.
"So, I've spent a solid 5 minutes thinking about your situation which I think is more than adequate given that any change for you would be an improvement. So, let's get to it. We'll start with your employment status. It's garbage. I was thinking that perhaps we could transition you from your current duty as the guy who cleans the grease traps at Capt D's into a more upwardly mobile position that better utilizes your admittedly limited skill set. Sales seems like a good fit and as it so happens while at Kroger the other day I overheard the manager talking about hiring Spanish speakers to stock the shelves at 3 am. I immediately thought of you. After reviewing your 'qualifications' with the night clerk he decided that you were perhaps under-qualified for the position but he did offer up a spot cleaning out the grease traps, even suggesting they might pay you to do so. That sounded tempting but being who I am I threw him some money and he changed his mind. The job is yours. The $11.85 I used to bribe him was just some leftover shit I was going to throw into the sewer in front of some bums anyway, but to keep you honest it is going to come out of your first 18 paychecks. I'm not a charity after all.
"Now, about your appearance. You look like a sack full of mashed-up assholes. I'm thinking we can get you into something more modern and trendy like some Gant or Knights of the Round Table; is there still a Burlington Coat Factory around here? I think that might be going a bit upscale, but considering that on the rare occasion you actually wear a shirt you only have the bottom button closed it is a step in the right direction. For the last time, this is Nashville, not Staten Island, so leave that pursed-lip fake tan wifebeater spiked hair broseph guinea daego wop I-tie spic guido shit in the landfill where it belongs. And enough with the glow in the dark wolves howling shit already. Here, take these shirts and one of the suits I had custom made for me and just keep losing weight until they fit. You fat shit.
"Of course transportation is at present an issue for you and those like you but I think I have the answer: Stop carrying that mop with you everywhere or at least allow it to dry out completely before you try and get on the bus with it. I would think that should be obvious but clearly in your case I would be thinking incorrectly. You really are rubbish. Scoria. Waste. Shit. Man, your life sucks. Here, take this prepaid phone card in case you want to call the suicide hotline. It only has $400 on it though. Also, what happened to that 86 Fiesta I bought you? Surely you didn't sell it for coke. Are you still giving dudes cocaine in exchange for letting you fellate them? God. Like I told you after your 4th DUI I can't keep buying you vehicles every 6 months. Well, I can but you'll never learn if I do.
"But, back to the mission at hand. Doing in a matter of hours what you have somehow been unable to do during the whole of your shiftless life, I have secured you employment, cleaned you up, dressed you appropriately, given you access to mental health care and solved your motility problem. Please never come to my place of residence again or I will have to call your parole officer, and bear in mind there is a middle school less than 1,000 yards from here so it would be a double whammy for you.
After my presentation he just kind of sat there for a moment taking it all in. He looked around slack-jawed and a butterfly landed on his nose. I showed him how to read a map and helped him catch the bus to the soup kitchen, but rather than say thanks his last words as he drunkenly, unsteadily climbed the bus ramp were 'hey man, can I borrow a dollar?"
Trash through and through. Garbage.
Electrical storm ahead...
15 years ago
