I think this compressed schedule is going to kill me.\u00a0 Get into the office at 8am (after leaving home at 7am, get home by 7pm, catch a rat and\/or one of the neighbor\u2019s children for dinner, then pass out.<\/p>\n
The supposed reward for working this retarded schedule is that I get every other Friday off.\u00a0 But, when you lose 12 hours a day to working and commuting, you start to put off chores.\u00a0 And when you have a second weekend job that\u2019s also measured in 12 hour shifts, the world sort of takes on this evil grey-tone where all the other people become fuzzy, angry ghosts.\u00a0 A Friday off does nothing.
\n<\/p>\n
Even though my weekend job involves sitting around watching porn and reading books for twenty bucks an hour, it still feels like some sort of insane psychological experiment.\u00a0 So when the groundskeeper\u2019s wife at my weekend job says, hey, it\u2019s an easy gig, I grab her shoulders and shake her really hard.\u00a0 If both jobs involved me fucking porn stars, I\u2019d still be losing my mind.\u00a0 85 hours a week, between the two jobs.\u00a0 85 hours away from home, away from rest and relaxation, away from everything\u2019s that\u2019s beautiful.\u00a0 85 hours a week of customer fucking service.\u00a0 Being nice to hundreds upon hundreds of fucking insane, deceitful, dysfunctional, wealthy shitheads.<\/p>\n
But, hey, I\u2019m whining.\u00a0 I could be on the street sucking cocks for pennies.\u00a0 While that\u2019s something I want to avoid, I did debate curling up under a tree on the way to work today.\u00a0 I get off two stops early these days, walking three miles through the occasionally terrifying Northeast DC (though there\u2019s nothing horrible happening at 7:30am), and I see the carefree homeless sleeping in the shrubs and dark corners, blissfully free of sanity, and I think, wouldn\u2019t that be nice?\u00a0 Just wear a potato sack and twitch and scream at people all day, then go get free lemonade at the CNN cafeteria.\u00a0 Then I could trade all my bum money for a few minutes with a diseased hooker.\u00a0 Maybe, if I\u2019m feeling ambitious, I could brutally attack tourists at the Greyhound station.\u00a0 I\u2019ve memorized the common pre-assault and battery speech everyone eventually hears:<\/p>\n
Hey\u2026Hey!\u00a0 Got a dime?\u00a0 I gotta call my kid.\u00a0 My kid\u2019s sick!\u00a0 I need a dime to make a phone call\u2026<\/p>\n
By the way, a great defense is if you\u2019re also looking for something.\u00a0 A dime?!\u00a0 I need a goddamned quarter for my Metro card!\u00a0 I can\u2019t get back on the Metro without a quarter and my kid\u2019s sick too!\u00a0 What about my kid?!<\/em><\/p>\n For the more organized scam artists (the somewhat clean looking person claiming they\u2019ve lost their license and they need cab fare to the hospital or something), it helps to respond incoherently.\u00a0 Make up something ridiculous and say you lost it on the train.\u00a0 Like, I left my tub of contact cement on the motherfucking<\/em> Metro.\u00a0 Do you fucking believe it?\u00a0 Motherfucker!<\/em>\u00a0 (This is best followed by a blind rage where you start kicking at plants and pulling on tree limbs and screaming.)<\/p>\n Actually\u2026reading the above, I realize that I behave like a lunatic wearing a potato sack anyway.\u00a0 It\u2019s what happens when you combine amusing city survival tactics with 85 hour work weeks.<\/p>\n The other thing I do, just like the potato-sack people, is to have a faux rage episode where I attack a tree and yell at a bum, and then see a pretty girl and suddenly compose myself, muttering under my breath as she walks by, \u201cHey, girl, you fine, mumble, mumble, mumble\u2026\u201d while sort of rocking back and forth with half-lidded eyes.<\/p>\n PS (Dear Internet):\u00a0 I\u2019ve decided to stop drinking for 30 days, unless the situation is unavoidable (like if the uncle kidnaps me at the Metro and drags me to the Quarry House).\u00a0 I often decide to stop drinking, and it usually sticks for about 12 hours, but I had a bit of an episode Saturday.\u00a0 It involved me throwing up for half an hour, then waking up in the closet covered in candle wax.\u00a0 I have no clear memory of what happened, but I did download three gigs of Asian tranny midget porn.<\/p>\n I can cope with puking and waking up in the closet covered in weird stuff, but the tranny midget porn is crossing a line.\u00a0 So the plan is to go dry from now till September 25th, when I\u2019m going to New Orleans again.\u00a0 There I get drunk, throw up, and then wake up in the closet with a shopping bag full of weird purchases from McKeowns<\/a>.\u00a0 It seems more constructive, but only because my friends have a lousy internet connection.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I think this compressed schedule is going to kill me.\u00a0 Get into the office at 8am (after leaving home at 7am, get home by 7pm, catch a rat and\/or one of the neighbor\u2019s children for dinner, then pass out. The …<\/p>\n