{"id":80,"date":"2008-05-03T10:02:46","date_gmt":"2008-05-03T15:02:46","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.greatsociety.org\/?p=80"},"modified":"2018-10-31T12:44:53","modified_gmt":"2018-10-31T16:44:53","slug":"piss-break","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/?p=80","title":{"rendered":"Piss Break"},"content":{"rendered":"

One of my most embarrassing on the job moments is from 1993. <\/span>I worked in a little bookstore attached to an old mansion nestled in a sleepy suburb of DC. <\/span>Those were the carefree days before gentrification really took hold, so sunset meant cows and pigs and yuppies went to sleep.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

This old mansion was on a pitch-black 40 acre wooded lot off of a residential park road. <\/span>They\u2019ve since installed security lights all over the place, to better set the mood for microfilm hand-offs between East German spies, but in 93 there was no hint of light when night was upon us, and our livestock.<\/p>\n

I worked a night shift \u2013 Thursday evenings 1pm to 9pm. <\/span><\/span>From 4pm onwards, I was alone. <\/span><\/p>\n

Rarely would customers come in but, as is the way of such things, I\u2019d take a piss break and that would be when a group of people would come in a rush. <\/span>The bookstore, and the society it\u2019s a part of, has always catered to an elderly membership, so when those fuckheads came to the door and saw a \u201cback in a minute\u201d sign, they\u2019d huff back to their cars, drive home, and compose a 12 page letter to my boss about how much of an asshole I was and how they\u2019ll never shop at our establishment again. <\/span>Signed: <\/span>Indignant and Bored in the Suburbs.<\/p>\n

After being chastised a few times by the boss, I just stopped taking piss breaks. <\/span>But, of course, I was also mainlining caffeine. <\/span>What to do? <\/span>That\u2019s right, piss in bottles. <\/span>Right there at the cash register in full view of the front door, where I could see nothing but the lights of the shop reflecting back. <\/span>The black-black night out there could have hidden any number of blue hair fuckheads, but I didn\u2019t care. <\/span>I was reduced to filling bottles with piss because of them. <\/span>In fact, if I were forced to do such things today, I\u2019d probably end up assaulting people and pouring piss down their throats.<\/p>\n

So, of course, I left the bottles beside the cash register one night. <\/span>Forgot to grab them as I rushed out to hurry home and hate my life in a dark corner of my bedroom. <\/span>I\u2019m not able to function unless I get a set amount of life-hating time in the corner each day. <\/span>Still true now.<\/p>\n

It was a dream in the early AM that reminded me. <\/span>I jerked awake at 3am and the image of those steaming bottles of piss right out in the open was hard in my mind. <\/span>At 6am, I hurried to the bookshop to get the bottles\u2026and my boss had shown up early. <\/span>She was busying herself around the register as I sheepishly lurked into the shop, frightened the shit out of her, then quietly grabbed the bottles and tucked them under my arm.<\/p>\n

That same old mansion is where I have my current weekend job as glorified caretaker during special events. <\/span>Weddings and the like. <\/span>Been doing it since 1991, and still going strong. <\/span>Easy money for no work, women in tight dresses, and free booze. <\/span>Lots of free booze. <\/span>Sometimes I just score a bottle or two of wine, and sometimes I steal so much shit it takes three trips with a fully packed car to get it all home.<\/p>\n

Today\u2019s wedding only has 50 guests, so there\u2019s not enough booze lying around to steal. <\/span>I always feel a bit cheated when that happens, but I\u2019ll make my peace with it. <\/span>I\u2019ll quietly drink throughout the event, thanks to always corrupt bartenders. <\/span><\/p>\n

More to the point, I\u2019m sitting here thinking of all the places I\u2019ve pissed. <\/span>All the trees and forest paths. <\/span>And not just that, there are places I\u2019ve brought women. <\/span>Rooms where I\u2019ve spent the night with a bottle of something and the fancy TV used by some of the event staff. <\/span>I\u2019ve realized that I\u2019ve had sex at just about every outside spot and, in the house, from the crawlspace to the roof. I weathered a winter storm for two days in 1994, thanks to the full service kitchen.<\/p>\n

Used to be a time I lived much closer to the mansion and would just hide out. <\/span>Up till 92, hiding out from mom. <\/span>After that, just getting away from my family and life in general. <\/span>There\u2019s nothing like parading around a huge mansion at 2am and pretending it, and the surrounding land, belongs to you.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s been many years since I\u2019ve spent the night in this old place. <\/span>Now I live alone and find that I want to hurry back to, you know, a dark corner where I can make up things to hate about life. <\/span>Mainly the fact that I have to work all weekend just to make ends meet. <\/span>If there\u2019s one thing in this world I hate, it\u2019s working. <\/span>What should I be doing today? <\/span>Beating around my apartment in a torn, blue bathrobe, drinking gin and pissing into empty bottles. <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

One of my most embarrassing on the job moments is from 1993. I worked in a little bookstore attached to an old mansion nestled in a sleepy suburb of DC. Those were the carefree days before gentrification really took hold, …<\/p>\n

Piss Break<\/span> Read More »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[400],"class_list":["post-80","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-wage-slave","tag-wage-slave"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/80","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=80"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/80\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1167,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/80\/revisions\/1167"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=80"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=80"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=80"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}