Return 2

Does anyone read this?

I suppose not. It's been a long time.

Things have changed. I've changed.

One thing that hasn't changed is what I've done.

Dare I say? Dare I purge my soul of this ... unspeakable ... thing?

Return

I've done something horrible...

Janeane, Please

I don't even know what I was watching. But there she was, Janeane Garofalo, the slick acerbic wit of the lost generation and role model to millions of slackers everwhere, and she was -blonde!

I've never much believed in stereotypes, racial, ethnic or whatever, but, as a blonde, Janeane is no longer believable. Anything that came out of her mouth as a brunette, no matter how stupid, seemed intelligent. Now, as a blonde, -everything- that comes out of her mouth, no matter how intelligent, seems stupid.

Janeane, please! What were you thinking?

The Perfect Gift

I got what I wanted. Everybody at the store did exactly what I asked. I don't see how I could be happier. They all got me vodka. I'm in heaven.

This is going to be the best Christmas Eve in a long long time. I'm going to sit here and watch TV and drink vodka until I pass out.

There are at least four different versions of "A Christmas Carol" on tonight including the grumpy one with George C. Scott, the funny one with Bill Murray and the best one with Alistar Sim. I'm gonna drink and eat chips and have a great Christmas.

Woo hoo!

The Bitch Is Back

It's rush time, which during Christmas is all the time. That's when she chooses to come back into my already-overloaded-with-shit life.

I'm at the counter processing idiot after idiot buying that goddamned "X-Men 2" DVD that we will never effing get rid of. Barry got what he called 'a good deal' on a gross shipment of these stupid DVDs and now we have over a thousand of them. Barry had to put them on sale for $9.99 to get rid of them. Thawanda is betting we all get the DVD as a gift from Barry this year we have so many. Anyway the store is up to its armpits with money-conscious parents buying the damn thing for their rugrats.

This is the madness I'm dealing with when Natalie walks in. She stands off to the side of the counter by the sticker bowl at the door to wait until I'm done. Like that will be anytime soon.

She starts to look through the sticker bowl. It's a big plastic fish bowl full of shit like Limp Bizkit and Phish and Dave Matthews Band on plastic adhesive joy. Fifty cents a piece. Barry put them there by the door on purpose. No one ever buys that shit. He wants these little jerk-off kids to shoplift 'em. no one's ever going to buy 'em.

Natalie looks good too, the bitch. She's wearing those purple-violet-lavender spattered jeans she knows I like. You can see everything and she knows it. Other than that, underneath that ratty goodwill longcoat I got her, she's wearing a silk print dress shirt with nothing else. God, I hate her and I want her. And I hate her even more for that.

I start making mistakes on the ancient cash register. I swear the effing Egyptians used this thing to charge admission to the pyramids opening week. I guess Barry can't afford a computer register after shelling out for those goddamn "X-Men 2" DVDs.

When I pull three voids in a row, Barry pulls me off and puts his Russian rent-a-wife on register. She says in that weird tone of voice of hers that could either be disraction or confusion, "I here now. You go be with friend."

Great, doomed by the boss' wife to a break with the demon bitch.

"I missed you."

"Wanna get some coffee?"

"How have you been?"

"You look good."

"I missed you."

All through this half-hearted low key tirade of Natalie's I just stare at her. I tried to kill myself once to get away from her shit. I told her to eff off and she just keeps coming. What the hell is it going to take to make her take a hint?

"Fuck you, Natalie." I am calm and breathing evenly. I am not going to lose my cool. "If you ever come back to this store again I will kill you." I turn quickly and go to the backroom where I know she won't follow. I cry for ten minutes. Thank god no one comes back while I'm in here.

When I go back out she's gone.

Maybe this time she'll take a hint.

Bitch.