Dear Blogbuddy,
Let me tell you a tale about my day so far. Keep in mind that as of typing these words, it is only 9:30 in the morning. Waking up at 1:30 on Tuesdays has its benefits, among them would be the opportunity to experience outrageousness early and frequently, which will only become more entertaining and outrageous as the day progresses, I assure you. I should explain that Tuesdays are an extra-long day for me. Specifically, because I need to be at the warehouse by 2am in order to process your DVDs that you send in on Saturday, because as Harry would say, "There's no post on Sunday." HP reference FTW. I wonder if I can make that a new thing, in addition to only using movie titles as the titles of my posts, I can sneak in an HP reference every blog post, I'd say I'd try, but I would no doubt fail, so I won't even think about it anymore.
At any rate, I never get enough sleep on Monday night, so I set aside a couple dollars every week to stop by the gas station and pick up a soda before work on Tuesdays. Lately, this has been ... rough. As I'm sure you read in [Katrina's Previous Post] we have some interesting characters to spend time at this gas station. If you ever want to meet them, it's the one on the corner of 84th(Washington) and Cedardale Road. Luckily, Katrina only has to deal with crazed customers. I get to deal with the person who is so socially inept that he is banished to working the overnight shift at a gas station rather than hold down a real job. To describe this man as any one of the characters from 'Freaks n' Geeks' would be inadequate. Thankfully, my experiences with him have always involved a third person wanting desperately to get through the line and on with their life, and they've always been far less patient and infinitely less polite than myself. Regrettably, today, while already ten minutes behind schedule, was not so lucky.
I entered the empty gas station. I immediately bolted to the coolers to get my Mountain Dew, also known as the drink of the Gods, and grabbed the breakfast meat of champions, a slim jim. Placing my items on the counter and preemptively handing him my cash to speed the process, I tried to muster all of the non-eye-contacty-silent-urgency that I possible could, when he asked, "How's the weather."
How's the weather. HOW'S THE WEATHER?! It's 2 am on a Tuesday and you ask me, "How's the weather?"?!?!?!
"Cold," I respond.
"Lol," yes, he said those three letters, "Well, at least you get a few seconds to warm up."
He rings up my items and gives me a total and while holding my change he says, "I got accused of God-modding in my RPG group last night."
PAUSE. Feel that? That sinking shit feeling you just got. That overwhelming rush of sympathy? Yeah. Yeah. That's the feeling I would have liked to get. Instead, I went into panic mode. Let me make something very clear, I have played DnD. I still do sometimes. Not with any frequency to call myself a gamer, but enough to understand core rule sets, and to grasp the concept of the words he just spoke. Before I can stop him by exiting smoothly, he goes into a 15 minute diatribe about his character in ... wait for it ... a Star Wars Pen & Paper RPG. DnD is bad enough, but now you have to add a whole new level of geek to it by incorporating Star Wars, the next thing I know he's going to have his Magic: The Gathering cards and I'll be in high school all over again.
I strain to act interested, my soul dying bit by bit inside, when he finally says, "Oh geez, it's been a while. You have a nice day, buddy."
So, I go to work. You know. No. Star Wars PnP RPG is enough outrageousness for one post. I at least know that I am never going to that gas station overnight again. nope. No way. Not gonna happen. I'll never leave. I'll be stuck forever listening to him talk about his 'friends' and his character sheets. *shudder* I'll say this much, my shift at the warehouse, which normally lasts 5 hours went for 7.5 today. I nearly cried by the time I left. I've got shit to do.
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