"BILL! Why are we the only sane people in the world?!" --Jessica Ledard


Empties bombardment!
Thanks to the bottle bill, they never stop. Our "back room" is more of a "large closet." It was a 10 foot x 6 ft x 8 ft solid mass of stinky old beer containers by the end of today. So I cringed when a middle-aged guy pushed a shopping cart piled with them into the store. But there's not a lot you can do...I told him to take them to the back. After a few seconds back there, he returned to the front with the cart. Why'd he stop unloading his empties? "I had 9."
Good thing he didn't buy any FULL cans of beer on his way out. If he needed a shopping cart to transport 9 empties, he'd need a forklift for a 6-pack.


Easily Answered Questions Dept:
SHAWT 1: (pointing at a label on a wine bottle that reads "10% Alcohol") Is this 10% Alcohol?
SHAWT 2: (pointing at a price tag in front of the Michelob Light 12-packs that reads "$8.49") Are the Michelob Light 12-packs $8.49?

Well, I don't know if you'll find this funny, but it sure ranks as Stupid. I was calling Jessica the Hospital Admittance Desk Squirrel Girl to confirm our movie date (Spike & Mike's latest collection--"Bambi Meets Godzilla" on the big screen! How cool is THAT!) & continued our contest of seeing who can leave the most inane voicemail.
(Hyper, high-pitched, semi-nerd semi-moron voice): Hello? I need directions to the lab? Cuz I got the specimens my doctor wanted, an' he wanted a sample of my pee-pee, an' an' he wanted a sample of my doo-doo, an' he wanted, he wanted a sample of my sperms, an' I got lotsa sperms. I keep them in a big jar! They're really cute, they're like Sea Monkeys. There's 1 that's very big, so I named him Randy "Macho Sperm" Savage, an' he's my favorite. But but but I don't got no more jars for my pee-pee, or my doo-doo, or my sperms, so I'm just gonna give you a pair of my underpants. (pause; normal voice) Well...Wasn't that disgusting.

I think I'm ahead in the contest right now.


Frontiers In Minor-League Crime Dept:
Girl, like 15 years old, yells at a guy walking into the store "EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME! Can you buy me a bottle of Hennessy?" Unfortunately, the "guy" is Rudy reporting to work...We immediately hear "EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME!" again. I walk outside & she's asking another stranger to buy for her. The woman looks at her an amused are-you-kidding look, until she sees me watching. She looks panicked & says NO. The girl finally notices me & says "Oh shit!" I duck inside to tell Rudy what's going on, & he walks out. "Did you tell the manager on me?!" yells the girl. Rudy tells her to move along, or we'll call the cops. "WHY? Why is it illegal?!" Well-reasoned argument, kid. I offered to call them so she could ask them.
Another guy hands a bottle to Rudy & tells HIM the price--Nope, seems it's higher than his quote. I look at the bottle & say "SOMEONE must've scratched the price tag off." 1 guess who'd done it. Amount he would've saved if his brilliant sheme had worked: 30 cents. Well, plus tax, so it prly was worth a shot.

An elderly black gentleman who comes into our store twice a week to buy $1 in Lottery tickets was in again. I'm using the word "gentleman" deliberately. There aren't any anymore, people who are polite & dignified. He's definately a product of a bygone age; he's always notable for wearing a full suit, hat & vest & all, like the year is 1953. He spent his dollar, then told me how he'd just hit 5 numbers in Powerball & won $67,000. Well, good! I'm glad it was a decent human being rather than some of the scum we normally see wasting every spare cent they have (after the booze money) to buy tickets, the type who'd use the money to buy $50,000 worth of more Powerball tickets, $16,997.32 worth of Budweiser, & 2 Slim Jims. But the effect was kinda diminished when he was telling me what he was going to do with the cash--donate some to Cancer Research, as "that's what killed my 1st wife," (that's cool!) & give some of the rest to his not 1 but TWO sons currently in med school. Possibly he didn't need the money as much as I'd assumed...


Absolutely nothing of consequence happened today. Hey, you think I'm glad about it? It took you 10 seconds to find out; it took me 8 hours.

Though when I got home, I (as always) checked the hit count on my baby, the Inexplicable Object. Yesterday I thought, ahhhh, I won't break 500 hits this week. So far, I have 1500 TODAY. So the InExOb must be featured somewhere again, like it was by Yahoo! in Feb. So if any of you SHAWT readers find out where, lemme know.


Is it a sign that you've set the refrigerator too low when you bite into a carrot & it's frozen?
Is it a sign your ponytail's too long when you have to put it over your shoulder to tuck in your pants?
Is it a sign that I ask these questions to avoid admitting nothing SHAWTfull has happened of late?
Yes, yes, & no, cuz i just did admit it. I don't understand!! People are STUPID! Why are they refusing to cooperate with me?!
Well, there was some minor stuff Sat, but I put off writing about it, then ...Well, then things went crappy. Appropriate that this was the weekend of Father's Day, as my weekend was skunked up by a coupla friend's fathers. I'll spare you the details (like they're any of your beeswax), but 1st was a chat that put me into Total Fret Mode (in all my friendships, I'm the Designated Worrier). Then my plans for Sun were shot to hell. I didn't even get to respond to Jessie Baby's counterattack in the Inane Message War, which was some hospital humor she left in my guestbook: "so how bought that semen count do you have the cup ready? ha ha ha ha my mom says hi." Well, that's a pair of sentences you don't get to see side-by-side everyday. I was going to respond when we next met by saying "I've got the cup ready!" while holding up a gallon milk jug. However, both crappy incidents kinda resolved themselves by Mon afternoon. Like that, too, is any of your beeswax. (Jeez, but I'm awfully chatty--who died & made me James Lileks?)
And the minor SHAWTstuff on Sat...Now that all the lame sell-to-minors liquor stores have been getting shut down, the idjits have been coming to us to the point we've felt the need to put a big easel sign up front labelled "ID POLICY." Maybe if it said "LOOK, HERE'S HOW YOU SHOULD BUY IF YOU'RE UNDERAGE" they'd actually READ it. Which, basically, is what it is. If you're the only 1 with ID, leave your 5 IDless buds in the car before you come in. And don't try this "I left my ID in my other pants" crap. Did you leave your brain in your other head? Better go home & change pants.
The sign also states that we don't accept damaged IDs. This phresh funkmeister brought in a license that was in 3 seperate parts. Rule No 1: Your ID should not, by itself, be something you can shuffle. "Front lamination?" "Go Fish!"
Another thing Sat was more of a Stupid Humans Running This Country. There was an article in the paper on the shooting death of the latest gun control bill. Clinton cited the statistic that every day, 19 kids are killed by handguns in the good ol' bullet-riddled USA. The auto section of the paper told how GM was going to be the 1st car company to react to pending legislation in Congress & put emergency release thingies in car trunks, so if kids get locked in, they won't die. Guess exactly how many kids have died in car trunks in the last 20 years...You hit the bullseye, Tex: 19. So less than 1 a year is more important than 7,000 a year. Let's face it--If your idea of a fun game is "Let's play Lock Me in The Trunk!" you are one not very bright kid. If you're dumb enough to do that, how could you possibly be smart enough to recognize the damn emergency release? Is it going to be a lil TV screen with Gaspy the Trunk Monkey singing "Just push this button/ Before the air is nothin'!"
It's like those "THIS PLASTIC BAG IS NOT A TOY" warnings. Like I'd ever even THOUGHT that as a kid. "Hey, let's play Star Wars! Put this black plastic trash bag over your head, & be Darth Vader! Wow, you're already breathing like him!"


This isn't from work, but from a hit the InExOb received yesterday (out of the 1,000+/day it's had since midnight Fri--what is up with that?). A hit from white-collar crime legal specialists "". You know--I'm not so sure I'm comfortable being defended by Doughboy, Attorney At Law.

JUDGE: Will the counsel for the defence please rise.
DOUGHBOY, ATTORNEY AT LAW: I always RISE! It's the YEAST I can do! Teeheehee!
J: What do you say in your client's defence?
DATL: I know he didn't embezzle that money, because he doesn't KNEAD THE DOUGH! Teeheehee!
J: Please keep to the matter at hand!
DATL: Jeepers, Judge, don't be so CRUSTY! Teeheehee!
J: ENOUGH with the lame puns already!
DATL: Lame? I think my humor's quite RYE! Teeheehee!
J: I'll hold you in contempt if you don't stop being so flaky! Ahhh! Now I'M doing it!!

If you punched Poppin Fresh in the gut, would he yelp in pain or just go "Teeheehee"?


A woman who works at the AAA comes in every other day to buy a pack of cigs. As she walks in, she yells "HI!" to a co-worker, who greets her with the wide eyes & frozen smile of someone who's not unhappy to be seen by her, just unhappy to be seen by her HERE. "They don't have what I'm looking for, so I'll see you back there!" she says to the Cigarette Smoking Woman as she leaves.
An hour later, she was back. She walked straight to the section she'd been standing near & grabbed a bottle of wine. I guess we did have what she was looking for...She just didn't want her co-worker to know she drinks.
That, to me, would count as a sign you should do something about your drinking. You'd think that if they're a regular, they'd just proudly announce "YEP! 12 pack a day! I'm a drunk, baby!" because--well, because we KNOW you're a drunk if you're downing 12 beers nightly. But we see it all the time. People insist on having that 1 bottle or 12-pack put in a bag, which often makes it harder to carry than if it wasn't hidden. I'll put a gallon jug of Carlo Rossi in a bag, & they'll reach their hand IN the bag to carry the bottle by it's handle. Some people bring in their OWN bags to make it look like they've been shopping at the supermarket. 1 guy still comes in every day & buys a 6-pack. Why not buy a 12-pack & come half as often? Because the 1 time he did, we were out of the bags you could fit a 12 in. Hey rearranged his plastic grocery bag, put the 12 in it, and ripped up 2 smaller bags to wallpaper the 12 so it looked like--umm, a 12-pack wrapped in paper with groceries spilling out of the top.
The regulars (when I managed a record store, "regular" meant you were in once or twice a month; here, it means once or twice a day) who used to yell "HOW ARE YA?!" to Jessica when she worked here at the Take Me Down To Drunky Town & would talk to her like she was their best friend now won't make eye contact with her when they run into her at the hospital admissions desk.
1 interesting thing about these people I've noticed...They're so embarassed by their drinking that they never bring their empties back for the deposit. What are they doing with them, burying them in the backyard or weighting them down with rocks & drowning them in the river like a sack of unwanted kittens?


Hey--don't look at me.
Friday was that rarest of days, a SHAWT right in the door day. So it was just cake to write that sucker up, right?
Woulda been if it hadn't been Y-Day. The day Yahoo! officially took over the reins of Geocities. Everything was shut down all day. Geo users could look, but they couldn't touch.
But I did find out the source of the 10,000 hits InExOb's received since last Fri...Yahoo. This had been mentioned to me by a coupla people, including Luthurian of Neverest (I don't think he was born with that name), but I thought they meant the old Pick of the Week. This is on a page I won't bother giving the url for, as it's not very interesting, but the Ob is 1 of 5 highlighted ones. Gee, a Geo page getting the spotlight the same week Yahoo merges with Geo...What a Co-Inky-Dink.
Okay. SHAWT. Last week the sales rep for the company that distributes Sam Adams beer asked me, "Would you like a free grill?" Well, I don't have 1, & it's a Weber we used to sell at Lechmere for $60, so--Hell, yeah. Even if it's blue & has "SAM ADAMS" stamped on it, like I stole it from the Adams homestead in Boston or something. But I put it up with the display of $10.99 12-packs for a few days to be a sport (I'd leave it longer, but I'm sure some other employee would snag it just because it's free). So Fri some SHAWT asks the owner if we're giving away a free $60 grill with every 12-pack.
Better buy a case. We're giving away Ferraris.
I've wondered for so long...Are people too LAZY to think, or are they INCAPABLE of thinking? Back in the music management days at *involuntary shudder* Lechmere a woman once asked me "Which of these 2 CDs is their newest?" OK, reasonable question, but if you tried to think, you'd say to yourself, "If I check the copyright date on it, the newer date would be the newer CD." If you were capable of thinking, you'd say to yourself, "This CD is titled 'Presidents of the United States of America.' This other CD is titled 'Presidents of the United States of America TWO.'" The kicker was when I pointed at POTUSA II & she looked at both CDs, shot me a distrustful look & demanded "Are you SURE?"

Oh, & I suppose NOW you want another SHAWT cuz I missed yesterday.
Bite me.
I could go on about my crappy day (to the Stupid Human I Had To Work With: "If you sell ice, hit 6, then hit enter." Sounds simple, huh? YES. There WAS SOMEONE SIMPLE WHO CAN'T GRASP THE MOST BASIC FUCKIN THING NO MATTER IF YOU SHOW HIM 3 TIMES AN HOUR FOR THE 4TH DAY STRAIGHT), or mention my platonic best bud Jess's even more hideous day, but they were unfun enough while they were occuring. Let's instead say our day ended splendidly with the long-awaited (& so nearly-aborted) viewing of Spike & Mike's latest. Wicked cool, but, well, sorry--according to their site, if you don't live in Quebec, CT, or CA, you ain't gonna see it. Great fun; highlights involved a funny Aardman (Wallace & Grommit folks) opus & a thing about homicidal balloons. On the drive back from the dinky art theater we saw it at, a blue flash ignited a sky that went abruptly, thickly black. OK, it's 11PM, it's supposed to be dark, but this was a transformer exploding & all the highway lights going out. If that art theater hadn't added 2 extra days of showings of S&M, we were semi-reluctantly gonna go see Austin Powers at the Macroplex--which was now totally plunged into darkness & no doubt utter chaos. Lucky us. Don't wanna see no little trailer of Y2K with our movie...
But you're in luck. Remember the aforementioned Luthurian? He's lucky enough to work TECH SUPPORT! Take it away, Luthurian!!

"...I just got to deal with a SHAWT. At this lovely helpdesk of mine, I do tech support for ISDN modems and the lines. Some lady just called me up.. "I can get on the Internet just fine.. but I'm having problems with my printer..." Oh.. so you call the modem's tech support line? Hmm if your printer is broken I'd suggest you call the manufacturer of your microwave. Yes, really. Make sure you ask them if leaking radiation could have lowered your IQ drastically. Yes, thanks for calling."


What are you doing here? This updates Tues to Sat, & this is Mon! Well, as long as you're here...AHAHAHAHAAHA!!! I just fired up the record player with a mint 1967 album by--JOHNNY!
You know, JOHNNY! So famous at the time that they only put his 1st name on the cover. Famous in France, anyway, as I have no clue who Johnny Hallyday is, or how he got famous with his cheezy versiounes Francaise of "House of the Rising Sun" & no lie, "Hey Joe." Hey Joe, where are you going with that croissant in your hand? Though it is interesting to know that "Uptight" (as in "Uptight, Everything is Allright," the S. Wonder tune) is "Les Coups" in French.
There was a 5-mile back-up on the opposite side of the highway today, so I took the scenic route back & ended up near the Salvation Army. Picked up 4 sweet 60s French LPs, including 2 in which Petula Clark sings her hits in French (eatin' yer lil heart out yet, Kits?! She even does a song called Sailor!) 60s LPs always have tiny LP jacket-ads, & OH GOURD, here's JOHNNY doing "Itsy bitsy, petit bikini." AHAHAHAA!!
Plus, I snagged a new addition to the weird ashtray collection. Had to stare at it a bit to figure out what it was...a CB radio. "This here's the Rubber Duck, & I'm about to put the Camels down!" Geddit? CB radio? "Convoy"? Nevermind. And a little porcelain pigtailed Chinaboy playing an odd instrument, with a bamboo-styled vase next to him. That's kinda offensive, I thought as I turned it over to see where it was made. "Occupied Japan." Prly worth 4 or 5 times the $4.50 it cost me.
Another day, another movie, but again at Real Art Ways. (Umm, Johnny is now singing a chorus that consists of "She's stupid!" over & over...The French, they are a funny race) "King of Masks"--SEE IT! If you can, that is. Subtitled Shaw Brothers (ie, Hong Kong) movie, sad but riveting. Also had a monkey that got fed yams, so--Cool by me. Before it, Kevin, Jay & me went to a brew pub nearby. I ordered a side of fries & had it delivered in the type of basket normally reserved for loaves of French bread. If there was just 1 more spud in there, it would've caused Potato Famine II, The Sequel. They talked about a guy at the RV dealership where they work whose job is washing the "rigs" & who they call "The Crackhead." Apparently, he IS, but he's also an asshole who verbally abuses retail FAVORITE kind o' scum. He always gives shit over the phone to the Chinese restaurant nearby (hey, notice how China & France keep turning up today? It's a concept rant!). You MUST be an idiot if you aggravate people preparing your FOOD. We had a nice, gross conversation on what "special ingredients" could be going into his orders. ME (as restraunteur, which is French, you know): "Yes, we make special marinade just for you! (hangs up phone) Hey, it's the asshole from RV place! Get the chicken out of the urinal!" "For you, we give the good brown mushrooms!" KEV (as Crackhead): "Hey, I didn't order any peanuts or corn with this!"
At the movie, the ancient woman ahead of us in line bitched to the pierced arty chick running the register about the "awful music!" they were playing. Yeah, why don't more art gallery/theaters play Bing in the cafe? The Hag was taken aback when she offered to turn it down or change it. Cuz all she REALLY wanted to do was bitch, & this was proven as I followed them into the theater. She sat down, loudly ragged on how she didn't want to sit *here* to her husband, who offered to move elsewhere, but then she ragged on how she didn't want to get up. If I were your hubby, I wouldn't want you to get up, either. From your fuckin' grave.
The discussion somehow went to Kevin's beloved Jack Russell terrier, & when he was getting an "I [heart] My Dog" bumper sticker. I told them about 10 years ago when those things were a plague, & when Nat'l Lampoon had a mail-order ad for a sticker that would fit over the heart. It was a picture of a screw. "I [screw] My Miniature Schnauzer!" Kev's wife has a bumper sticker that reads "I Dig My Jack Russell Terrier!" which evidentally is some hilarious terrier ref. The D is shaped like a shovel. I wondered if people read the icon wrong & thought it was a spade. "I [spade] My Terrier!"


Hello. My thoughts are not my own.

A couple is buying a 30 pack of cheap shit beer (Busch) & doing something only white trash & frat boys seem to do, bragging about how drunk they're gonna get tonight, WEEE-HAAA!!! She was wearing a t-shirt that said "Higher Powered," which is an Alcoholics Anonymous thing.
I believe it represented an ironic comment on our society's dichotomal thrust, which both impels a need to project a veneer of "sobriety," even as it impedes this same construct with its constant messages of instant gratification. That, or the t-shirt was on the 50-cent rack at the Salvation Army.

Oops! Almost forgot this: Little Girl to Mommy at the grocery store, pointing at me: Is that a boy or a girl?
OK, so the 2-foot ponytail can be confusing, but the usual tip-off's the beard. I wanted to say, "HEY, little girl! Lemme PROVE I'm a boy!" but I'm not sure what kind of internet connection you get in prison.


"Boy, that air conditioning sure feels nice! It sure is nice in here! It's so hot out there! It's a scorcher! You're so lucky to work in here! I could stay in here all day! It's so hot out there! It's not the heat, it's the humidity! I could just hang out inside your beer cooler all day!"
When you work in retail, you always know what the weather's like.
It's not the heat--It's the stupidity.


The liquor laws in this state are so odd that at times I think the legislature's drunk when they pass them. We can't be open on a national holiday--Unless it falls on a Saturday, then we have to be open. So we were, last 4th of July. What a snooze-fest that was. Everyone assumed we were closed, so it was just Jessie Baby & me fighting off cabin fever. This year the 4th is a Sun, when we're always closed anyway, so you'd think there'd be no problem. You would think...But now, we're required to be closed on Mon the 5th. I doan geddit.
I think I'll park across the street from the store on Mon, & watch the frantic drunks futiley yanking on a door that isn't going to open, as they scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! THERE IS NO GOD!!!!"


Emerging Trend Dept: I carried out 2 boxes of booze a woman bought while she carried a 30 pack of beer. Bumper sticker on her car: "Alcoholics Anonymous: It Works!" I guess she got it used.
We bought a close-out, an Alize wannabe called Flashback (Alize is a fruit juice/cognac blend). It so apes Alize that maybe they stopped making it because of coypyright infringement. Same bottle, same bright yellow liquid. Well, except for 1/4 of each case, which were more of a diarrheal yellow-brown. The juice pulp was all chunky & slimy like algae, & stained the bottom of the glass. Maaaaybe we shouldn't sell these...So they all went back. Except for 1 pint that was sold before we opened the icky cases. I should ask Jessica if anybody's been admitted to the emergency room clutching a pint & with yellow lips.
Speaking of Jess, we haven't been in touch for a week, so I left her another inane voicemail.
(Super-sexy Barry White voice) "Heeeeyy, baby! Haven't heard from ya in a while--I hope no other man has taken my place. To prove what a romantic-type guy I am, here's a little poem I wrote--Just for you!
Jessie Baby, she's so pretty.
Her sarcastic humor is quite witty.
Haven't seen her in a week, what a pity.
I'd like to touch her on her--
Hmm, can't think of anything that rhymes..."
Prly just as well.


I've been up since 4:30AM with 4 hours sleep & put in a 12-hour shift the day before a major holiday--How motivated do you think I am to do this?
But, you made the trip here, so don't leave empty-handed. Here's something SHAWTful, but from the other side of the retail counter.


Bleeeuurrrgghhh. Billy is sick.
I don't know why...My 1st thought is that it's related to the heatwave we're having (100 degrees & 70% hunidity--going outside is like walking in a hot sponge), but heat usually doesn't affect me. Plus, all I did yesterday was work on this, with 2 fans blowing on me. But I got overwhelmingly tired & went to bed at 9PM, slept for 12 hours, & woke up feeling like death. But I went to work, cuz if it was the heat, staying in my air-conditionless condo wasn't gonna help. But I left after 2 hours.
Despite the brief time at work, I still got a SHAWT. A woman asked for "Marlboro Crush." Umm, is that Orange Crush's new tobacco-flavored soda? No, that meant "Marlboro Box," cuz "That's what people usually call it." Oh. No wonder I've never heard the phrase before then. Hey, why are you spitting that Sprite out? "Sprite" is what everyone calls kerosene!


I had me some chicken soup, then I slept forever & ever, then I felt OK. Of course, the heat wave ended as a line of t-storms crashed through at the same moment my brain crashed into cold shutdown at 10PM last night, so, yeah, maybe it was the heat after all. Jessie Baby felt tired, dizzy & nauseous yesterday too, & since I weigh like 5 lbs more than her, it prly was the same thing. C'mon, at least PRETEND you care about my health! If I died, there'd be no more InExObs, THEN you'd be sad!
Lucky I'm writing this now. There was some big car accident right nearby, & there was no power literally just across the street. Then it took 15 minutes to fire up the damn Pookie--oh, yeah, & there was a cop stopping people as they drove into my condo driveway. Welcome to Kosovo, CT. I thought, ya know, it's almost like when they have the fireworks at the Legion Field a 1/4 mile from here--but why would they celebrate the 4th on the 7th?
Couldn't tell you why, but that's what they did.
Nothin' very SHAWTy went down today, but here's a Golden Oldie from a few months back. A little girl, 4 or 5, is helping Daddy by dragging up a 12-pack to the register. I smile & say, "I need to see your ID, ma'am!" She looks a bit confused, & then in that serious, earnest voice lil kids use when they're being Serious & Earnest says "I left my ID at home on my dresser. I'll bring it in next time."
4 years old & she's already got the Underage Drinker patter down!


3:59PM: I call in the last of the weekend beer orders at the last minute, literally. 1 company still hasn't brought the small fill-in order that was supposed to come in today. I need to know what they won't have in order to add it to tomorrow's order. Guess I'll have to wait until they get here.
6PM: OK, this is ridiculous. The truck ain't here & their office closed at 4. Did the order get bumped to Fri, or did it get lost? I'm gonna hafta reorder the whole damn thing, explain that it may or may not be already coming, & hope they don't double it up.
6:10: A truck just pulled up to the back door. Finally! I leave the door open so that the driver can haul the beer in.
6:20: Ooookay. 23 lousy pieces & nothing's come in yet. The AC is on, so I shut the door. There's a bell, he can ring it.
6:25: I help a customer take his purchase out to his car, retrieve a stray shopping cart of ours, then grab the Stop & Shop flyer from my car. I'd been waiting for a minute's peace to scan it to see if it was worth grocery shopping after work--I didn't guess that the moment would come during a delivery.
6:30: Guy asks, "Do you have any Coors Light 18 packs?" MAYBE. I walk out back. The diesel engine's still running, the doors are open, there's a handtruck of Coors 18s all loaded up...Where's the driver?! I grab an 18. That'll wake the guy up when he sees it missing. In this neighborhood, the whole TRUCK could be missing by now. I give the 18 to the customer & ask him if he wants a free truck of beer--& keep the truck.
6:40: The amusement factor is wearing thin. I walk to the pool hall next door to see if the driver went there. Nope.
6:50: Co-worker Jason looks into the cab & checks all the doors of the truck while I'm on the phone to the owner, ready to call the cops. The driver must be in a dumpster with his head bashed in. I've literally pushed the 1st number of the police phone number when Jason yells "He's here!" He's wandering over from the supermarket next door.
6:50-7: Flash the Wonder Unloader takes 10 minutes to bring in exactly *2* handtrucks worth of beer. He stops in our backroom & stares off into space while I stare at him while a customer stares at me. She asks, "Watching the beer chill, like watching the grass grow?" "No," I say, "watching the beer driver chill."
So where did he go? Don't know for sure, but as the ads say: "Any Time is the Right Time for Crack!"

Ahh, CRAP. Ran out of K halfway through a SHAWT. *sigh* Go here. You don't like to do this? For your insolence, I shall now go Yada till there's no space left.