The following are a summary of the events which took place on October 12, 2008 involving Transport #28 under my command of said vessel.
At 17:45 hours I arrived at Three and a Half Star Pizza to take command of transport #28 and it's night shift duties. After a routine safety and equipment inspection I was ready to take my first run of the evening. As luck would have it, my first drop off would be a routine stop at a local crack cocaine distribution dwelling in sector eight. While the possibility of danger could be high, typically the inhabitants were quite over joyed to see me and their well done Italian subs swimming in vinegar. This evening would prove to be a typical transaction.
I navigated my ship down Lender Avenue, took a right on McGuire Boulevard, topped the hill and took a left onto Continental Drive. As I entered sector eight, I turned right onto Jackson Street and gazed upon a usual sight. A broken down single floor structure with peeling forest green paint. In the front yard lie many pieces of household furniture in poor repair and a little boy , five or possibly six years of age, trying to force a pine cone up a stray dog's rectum. A site I had seen every day for nearly three weeks.
After bringing my transport to a halt in the designated loading and or unloading zone behind the collection of soiled diapers that must have massed fifteen metric tons, I exited with the package. Not more than a split second after putting my first boot onto turf I was greeted by the loud, shrieking voice of the lady of the house.
“Hey mutha fuka, you got my shit?” she inquired as her large framed lumbered out of the rear exit of the structure, struggling hard to stay within the confines of her spandex outfit that made her appear as sixteen kilograms of fecal material compressed into a four kilogram capacity container.
“Good evening madame, your requisition has been filled and delivered in a satisfactory time frame.” I replied with a pleasant smile on my face.
“Dem god damn subs betta have extra dressin on dem or else deir gonna be some chaos up in dis bitch.” she rebutted.
“I assure you that your order has been filled to specification. We at Three and a Half Star Pizza pride ourselves on quality and customer service.” I explained.
“A'ight, lets do dis shit mafuka.” she stated as she began counting pennies out of a plastic condiment bowl.
“Your invoice total is $15.97 ma'am” I explained in a friendly tone.
At this point the lady placed the pennies back into the bowl, closed the lid upon it and threw the entire collection at me. Then she abruptly yanked the sandwiches from my hand and yelled “Fifteen dolla and ninety-seben cent is sum bullsheit. Count dat shit on ya own. If ya lucky dey may be a tip fo ya.”
She then turned and walked quickly back into her home. I retrieved the container with the currency in it and returned to my transport. I then poured the coins into my collection case and threw the bowl onto the floor with the rest of the containers she had hurled at me in the past days .........
To Be Continued
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Un. Fucking. Believable.
Did you need a universal translator? j
Ha! I love your version of events as they unfolded. How you managed NOT to bitch slap that ho...well, you're a better person than I.
i dunno whether to laugh or cry.
still laughing.
thanks!
Post a Comment