About once every two weeks I’ll be at work, and feel an urge to have Subway for lunch. Yes, a BMT with lettuce, tomato, and green peppers would be mighty good tonight, I say to myself. Then I remember: I told a guy there to go fuck himself, and can never return.
So, that bridge is fully burned, and there’s no way back. It felt good while it was ablaze, but now… not so much. Nowadays I just sigh with sadness when I think about it. ‘Cause I want back in!
Sometimes I catch myself considering disguises. I think: Maybe if I went in there wearing a clip-on ZZ Top beard, or a pair of those glasses with Japanese eyes painted on them, the dude wouldn’t recognize me and load-up my hoagie with boogers and scrotal residue?
But the risk is simply too great. I know this, deep down. I just have to come to terms with the fact I’ve completely burned a fast food bridge, in a neighborhood with few options. My god, what was I thinking?!
I heard a great nickname for a guy at work last night. In fact, it almost made me do a spit-take. I don’t think I should tell you what it is, because I’m paranoid, but I will tell you about a previous one that’s even better.
Years ago, you see, I worked with a sawed-off little prick named John. Well, I didn’t really work with him, we just worked under the same roof. Our jobs didn’t overlap all that much.
Anyway, he was roughly 4 foot 8 (possibly exaggerated), and was the poster child for Short Man Syndrome. He walked around with a chip on his tiny shoulder all the time, being hyper-confrontational, and acting like a complete jackass.
He was also a very snappy dresser — almost always overdressed for every occasion. And his secretary (of all people) started referring to him, behind his narrow back, as “Baby Gap.” Because, I guess, she believed that’s where he purchased all his fancy duds.
And that’s one of my all-time favorites. I’m laughing right now, just thinking about it. It’s perfection, I say.
Have you encountered any especially creative co-worker nicknames during your travels? I’m not talking about calling a fat guy “Tiny,” but the ones that are truly inspired. Tell us about it, won’t you?
And Buck sent me a link to this site today, where you can find out the number one song in America on the day you were born. Then you can listen to it, if you’d like.
The site is pretty clunky, but functions. And apparently “Big Girls Don’t Cry” was at the top of the charts when I emerged, already sporting the beginnings of the Jiffy Pop hair that’s plagued me ever since.
“Big Girls Don’t Cry”? That’s not very manly, is it? I’m not sure I care for it. It seems like it should be Nostrils’ song, not mine. At least that’s the way I see it.
In any case, the two of us were writing back and forth, telling each other what was number one during big events in our lives. And get this… Buck knows the exact date he lost his virginity. The exact date! And now he knows what was the most popular song in the nation when it happened, as well.
Is this something people generally know? ‘Cause I couldn’t even tell you the month. I know the year, and could probably narrow it down to a specific quarter… but that’s the best I can do.
Hell, I don’t even know if the first time was my first time. I might’ve had it in her purse, I’m not sure. The whole thing was quite ridiculous and clumsy, but we don’t need to get into all that, do we?
What was the number one song on the day you were born? And do you remember the exact date you lost your virginity, like Buck? If so, what was the most popular song at the time?
Sheesh.
This will probably be my last update before Christmas, so I hope everyone has a great one. I appreciate you folks coming here every day and participating in the craziness. I will hoist a holiday beverage in your honor — as soon as I get this work week behind me. Is this the slowest week ever, or what? Sweet sainted mother of Hedda Lettuce!
Take care, and I’ll see you on the other side.
jtb – how did I manage to get everything about Essex wrong? Probably too much wine, but thanks for clearing all that up. I appreciate it! And Merry Christmas to Jeff and all the surf reporters!
i win bitches 11-13-94 i lost my virginityness and the number one song was I’ll make love to you by boyz ii men.
#1 song when I has born “It’s All in the Game”, Tommy Edwards
The date I was no longer a cherry boy, May 14, 1976. The lucky or unlucky girls name depending on your perspective was Debbie Cantrell and we made it in the back seat of my mother’s Grand Prix after the High School prom. Just remembering how awkward and clumsy I felt over the whole thing. I always thought it would something fantastic and fireworks would shoot out of my ass. But It never happened, we did it and when it was over we kinda drifted apart. Never saw her again after that summer.
Creative nicknames? My college bud went by the nick of “El Locko” and I went by the nickname “Lollipop Man”. My nick was given to me by several of my girlfriends at that time. Don’t know why!
I share a birthday with Yvonne apparently. The song on my birthday is Jack and Diane. As for the other date, I can narrow it down to the month and year, but that’s it.
(I saw the other Kristy who has already commented, so I hope I don’t confuse anyone. I read all the time, but rarely comment.)
Better late than never!
We had a regular customer we would call on a couple times a week who earned the nickname Throwmama because she had a surly attitude and looked exactly like that old woman from ‘Throw Mama From The Train’.
Playing catch-up!
Birthdate song: “Baby Don’t Get Hooked on Me” by Mac Davis. So you suppose my mom sung this while breastfeeding?
Virginity-Schminity: It was late summer ’92. So it was either “Baby Got Back” by Sir Mix-A-Lot, “This Used to Be My Playground” by Madonna, or “End of the Road” by Boyz II Men. Any of which were appropriate to the occasion.
1975: He don’t love you (like I love you) – Tony Orlando & Dawn
1993: Can’t Help Falling in Love – UB40
I must say Im a veritable genius on dolling out nicknames.
Here are a few of my current best:
The accountant we call Gilbert Grape, because you would have to get a crane in to lift her dead body out in case of accidental death.
My boss looks (shit you NOT) a replica of Gimli from Lord of the Rings, but a female version.
I also have a friend whom I love to hate and have dubbed him X-FIles. The reason is simple. That is about how logical he is.
Enjoy
I’d give that Subway another shot. The offending “worker” is probably not even employed there any more, between normal fast-food employee turnover and his complete unsuitability for any job having anything to do with customer service.