Ok, EvilTwin’sWife and Wordnerd were bugging me the other day about this… mainly because at work, when I have a free second I Twitter about … well… work.
It started when I twittered about the Mexican who pulls up to my booth on an ATV. Does 6 donuts. Moons me. Flips me off. Pops a wheelie and drives off leaving me puzzled.
You see… I work in a recycling plant out in the middle of the boondocks of a suburb of New York City. The reason I’m being vague is that it’s against my company’s policy to allow people to blog about the company. In fact, just blogging that there’s a policy against blogging about the company is against that company policy.
Anyway, I work as the Point Of Entry officer and “scale master”… basically I push a button, and the gate goes up. And if you’re bringing in garbage I weigh your truck so we know how much you bring in. I’m in a booth. About a mile away from the rest of the company. Any car/truck/pedestrian that comes in comes through me.
I have to deal with some awesome truckers, most of them are normal enough. Just ex-cons, ex-marines, people who’s teeth have fallen out so they can’t get real jobs since that involves going to interviews etc and to be quite honest if you don’t gots no teefs you ain’t getting a job…. but there’s some freaks too
Like the guy that comes out of his truck wearing a cowboy hat, and sneakers. And that’s about it. I mean, he had a gold chain with a cross on it. but other than that he was nekkid. He said that he and the other guy in the truck “forgot” they were naked. I kind of believe that. Because…. well… in MY world… it works.
Or the Pakistani guy, who jumps out of his truck and starts screaming “WELCOME TO AMERICA!!! THIS IS A PLACE WHERE DOWN THE STREET YOU CAN GET A HOOKER TO FUCK YOU ALL THE WAY GAY FOR $3.24!!!” … where down the street is nothing. there’s a bit of swampland… and some train tracks… but that’s it.
Then there was a guy that took his penis out, and smooshed it on the glass door of my booth. This was caused by my refusal to wash out his gallon milk jug filled with pee. I saw it all… the freckle… the ear ring that went in the hole… and out the side at a strange 45 degree angle. The ear ring had a diamond in it. It sparkled. The sparkle is etched in my mind where it will stay until I blow it out. With a bullet.
Just the other day I had someone hop out of the truck in a leather biker vest, cowboy boots, a cowboy hat and an adult diaper. She tried to pick me up… but I’m not into brown methmouth teeth.
I don’t ONLY get naked truckers. I sometimes get the guys with boxes of pot.. like.. moving boxes. FILLED WITH POT. That the security/safety manager has to deal with.
I also have neighborhood locals trying to come in. I have to keep them out. Unless they cut a hole in the fence, down the block, where the $3.24 hookers are and also the swamp. They come in and dragrace the forklifts. We keep the keys in the forklifts because we’re a secured facility. But… every once in a while, when I’m working nights I hear … things… on the radio (a radio-shack walkie talkie)… and then I turn on one of the cameras in the truck lot and see forklift-chicken. Or the kids stealing the spillkits (55 gallon plastic drums)… to make home-made beer. Out of Cornflakes and Cocoa Puffs (The beer’s quite good actually. You have to age it underground in the swamp for a couple of months. Let it mellow out…. and you’ve only got a 16% chance of going blind. and then it’ll PROBABLY come back in a couple of days)….
The locals, I’m CONVINCED are total mutants. Just today, while waiting for the bus to take me away from that part of town, and a pickup truck comes out into the gravel lot by where I was. These two dudes get out. One’s straight outta the 1980’s hair metal scene… gold lamé spandex, leather jacket, French whore makeup… only he was black. His buddy was a whiteboy dressed like a fratboy. they pull out a boombox, jump into the bed of the pickup and start an impromptu freestyle jam. Just for me.
No. They weren’t any good. Just talking smack about puffin’ on fatties, smacking bitches at da club, and the rims on they mommies’ minivans.
But that’s where I live.
