Oh, Life is Fucking Terrible Funny Sometimes
So when I first glanced at this page a few minutes ago, I noticed that one of my recent posts is entitled "It's Okay to Drink Whiskey at Work Now, Right?" A somewhat autobiographical piece of investigative journalism at its finest.
Well, to answer the question in question, it turns out that is in fact not okay to drink whiskey at work, as at least one employee discovered recently. According to certain sources of mine-- that actually operate inside the Strand (you'd be fucking amazed at some of the resources I have at my disposal)-- last night a few workers faced a choice all-too-familiar to those of us that get paid to wear stupid fucking red name tags and inhale asbestos just to scrape by. The dilemma? On the one hand, a relatively slight personal physiological alteration, and on the other, STABBING ONE'S OWN EYES OUT WITH A GODDAMN PEN OEDIPUS-STYLE, EXCEPT WITHOUT ALL THE COOL WEIRD SEX STUFF PRECEDING IT.
It seems a few persons decided that it would be less-than-professional to commit hari-kiri at the front cash registers, so they instead retired downstairs for a nightcap . . . or nine. I won't dwell on the matter, suffice to say . . . well, shit happens I guess.
(On a personal level, even were they detained by our Disney-esque authorities, I love that termination isn't even a credible threat at the Strand. Everyone knows that it would only mean having to hire and retrain some other scumbag to do your job, while at the same time giving you a much-needed, long-overdue kick in the colon to go do something with your life already.)
Look, I know I'm a bit biased here-- I love liquor as much as I hate humanity. It goes with the territory of being a brillyunt righter and an abusive lover. However, I am not entirely without a heart, so I will offer these words of advice: forget that furtive hide-the-bottle-in-the-corner-behind-some-books shit. Drink openly, early and often. It's far less suspicious and far more fun. Also, you'd be amazed at some of the stuff that comes out of your mouth to people when you're stumbling around the aisles. I once asked a customer if she would give me a piggyback ride up to the second floor. (Her mother informed me that the young lady was turning eight the following weekend.)
Everyone there smells like some combination of urine and death anyway. We should be allowed to mask that in whatever way we feel is proper. The union should issue Jack as part of our health plan.
Well, to answer the question in question, it turns out that is in fact not okay to drink whiskey at work, as at least one employee discovered recently. According to certain sources of mine-- that actually operate inside the Strand (you'd be fucking amazed at some of the resources I have at my disposal)-- last night a few workers faced a choice all-too-familiar to those of us that get paid to wear stupid fucking red name tags and inhale asbestos just to scrape by. The dilemma? On the one hand, a relatively slight personal physiological alteration, and on the other, STABBING ONE'S OWN EYES OUT WITH A GODDAMN PEN OEDIPUS-STYLE, EXCEPT WITHOUT ALL THE COOL WEIRD SEX STUFF PRECEDING IT.
It seems a few persons decided that it would be less-than-professional to commit hari-kiri at the front cash registers, so they instead retired downstairs for a nightcap . . . or nine. I won't dwell on the matter, suffice to say . . . well, shit happens I guess.
(On a personal level, even were they detained by our Disney-esque authorities, I love that termination isn't even a credible threat at the Strand. Everyone knows that it would only mean having to hire and retrain some other scumbag to do your job, while at the same time giving you a much-needed, long-overdue kick in the colon to go do something with your life already.)
Look, I know I'm a bit biased here-- I love liquor as much as I hate humanity. It goes with the territory of being a brillyunt righter and an abusive lover. However, I am not entirely without a heart, so I will offer these words of advice: forget that furtive hide-the-bottle-in-the-corner-behind-some-books shit. Drink openly, early and often. It's far less suspicious and far more fun. Also, you'd be amazed at some of the stuff that comes out of your mouth to people when you're stumbling around the aisles. I once asked a customer if she would give me a piggyback ride up to the second floor. (Her mother informed me that the young lady was turning eight the following weekend.)
Everyone there smells like some combination of urine and death anyway. We should be allowed to mask that in whatever way we feel is proper. The union should issue Jack as part of our health plan.
posted by K-Smack at 8:46 am
5 Comments:
Hey, if you're too dumb to hide the booze you're gonna have to take one for the team. Everybody drinks; you just can't have the bottle out. Subtlety, please! If only you knew all the managers who used to sneak up to the office to snort coke or to the boiler room to smoke up...
Have you ever been up to the fifth floor? Is it still there? Man, it's been so long since I worked there.... I'll try to think up (recall or make up) some good stories from the mid 90's when I worked there...
I think I remember so little because I used to constantly bring wine in grape juice bottles in to work and drink while pricing books (pretty lame), go out and drink $.69 beers by Washington Square on my lunchbreak (they must have been 4 oz glasses...), stop by Hell's Kitchen while delivering in Fred's Suburban to buy weed and smoke up in his car, go around the corner where Forbidden Books is (or was?) on break and smoke up with some of the other monkeys from the warehouse....
blah blah blah blah
It's been a long time... I enjoyed reading most of your entries... don't stop.
http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=1804&ncid=1804&e=1&u=/washpost/20050211/tc_washpost/a15511_2005feb10
you're getting lazy asshole
post dammint!
Look, I only post when I can and when I think I have something to say that's halfway funny. Very (very) often these two prerequisites can't be met (particularly the latter, c'mon, you've seen the site).
Re: the 5th floor--
Still there. Definitely still there. I'm also quite glad you put the company automobile to such good use.
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