Now, The Rest of the Story

KARMA CAN BE A BITCH

It was reported earlier today, that a local man, Joe Somebody was tragically crushed by a pallet in the warehouse of the local Walmart. Joe was visiting a client, there was a tragic accident and he was found dead. Officials could not confirm how this happened, all they can say at the present time is, it is currently under investigation. 

This is of course is complete fiction, but most of what you will read below, is all true.

I was sitting at a local Starbucks in New Milford yesterday, November 21,2013. I was enjoying a delicious dark roast coffee, sitting at a table with my laptop out, pecking away...

A somewhat scurvy looking man (from this point on, he will be known as Scurvy Steve) of about 18-24 sat down near my table,  and proceeded to take out his cell phone, and like all the youth now a days, tilted his head down, and was swiping and texting like crazy.  A few minutes later an older man, I have named him Joe Somebody, sat across from Scurvy guy, and they started a conversation.  I was not eavesdropping at all, but I could not help but over hear Joe Somebody tell Scurvy Steve that "I am pretty sure your interview is at 10 tomorrow morning".  

Very nice, a young man, looking for a job, an older friend helping out.  That is how quickly assessed the situation, and left it at that.  A few minutes ticked away, and Joe Somebody, took out his cell phone, made a call, and absolutely confirmed that indeed, the interview was at 10am, and then I learned that Scurvy Steve had an interview at Walmart.

Joe Somebody definetely had an air of superiority about him, and a man of organization.  He took out a binder, a laptop, and a notebook.  I surmised that yes, this man is a Social Worker of some type, and he is assisting Scurvy Steve in getting off the government dole, and on the payroll for good old Sam Walton and family.

Joe Something then dropped a few nuggets of informational gold to Scurvy Steve.  He told him, in no particular order..

• Look nice
• Don't wear sneakers
• Smell good
• Be on time
• I can pick you up
• They are going to drug test you

Scurvy Steve was nodding in complete agreement, that is, until the last and probably most important nugget.  The look on his face was of utter disbelief. "Fucking Walmart is going to drug test me?"  "Yes, yes they are" replied Joe. He further stated " they are going to interview you, when you get past that (he said that with some confidence, though it did appear he was hedging his bet) they are going to swab your mouth.

Now, I have to be honest, my interest had peaked a bit.  I did not give Scurvy Steve that moniker by accident. There was something about his "look" that was just a bit off.  I couldn't put my finger on it, it was just a first impression.

They both leaned a bit closer together across the table in a conspiratorial manner, and I heard Scurvy Steve ask Joe Somebody how long "weed" stays in your system, and how far back does a swab test test for?  Joe said he did not know, but he would find out.  He whipped out the laptop, hit the google, and he was off to the races.

While Joe was doing this, Scurvy Steve was texting and calling someone, and I could make out the following , "dude, you didn't tell me they drug test there"

I will admit it, I was paying more attention to their conversation, but damn, can you blame me?

Joe did his searches, and struck the mother load.  He told Scurvy Steve, that the swab test only tests back for about 24 to 48 hours.  Scurvy Steve was taking in this vital bit of information, and I swear to god, I could see the proverbial light bulb go on over his head.  He said, and I will paraphrase, but it will be damn close.

• "Does that mean I can't do any bongs tonight?
• "I can only do a few one hitters, right?
• "I guess I will only roll a small one then"
• "If I gargle and rinse my mouth with Listerine, that should erase any pot, right?

It was at that moment, that precise split second in time when I had the following vision, Spicoli.  You can basically smoke, snort, inhale, shoot, swallow any drug, for a long period of time, but if you can manage to not do it for 24 hours or so, you can pass the swab drug test and work at the Walmart. 

After the young scurvy Einstein asked the previous questions, I was waiting to Joe to say something profound, and sobering. Boy, was I wrong.  He told Scurvy Steve to "try" to not smoke anything right before the interview, and the Listerine should work out just fine.  Yep, Listerine to beat the drug test. He gargles, gargles some more, and all is fine.

Joe also reiterated that doing a few one hitters or rolling a small one, the night before, well, that will be just dandy. Our state or local Social Worker was telling the youth of America that it is cool to do the weed, as long as you can pass the test.  It was at this point when Joe Somebody's phone rang, and I could hear him say to the person on the other end, he was there with a client, and he would be back in the office in a little while.

Our young job seeker then played his ace, he asked Joe "can I borrow a few bucks to get some Listerine?" That's affirmative, he took out his wallet, plucked out a ten spot, and told our young soon to be Walmart slave, "make sure you get a receipt"

You might think that is the end of this tale, of a young man seeking the new American dream of "just getting by", but its not. 

 I will now use the line best known to come out of the late Paul Harvey during news reports, "Now it's time for the fictional REST of the Story..."  

Scurvy Steve somehow passes his drug test.  He gargles, and gargles, basically shoots Listerine into his veins, so he can earn a wage stocking the back room at "The Walmart".  He is manages to make it to work, thanks to his social worker Joe.  Since the drug test is not an issue anymore, prior to work, and during his break he loves "rolling a small one" and "doing a few one hitters."  He is trained in the warehouse, because, like me, his boss Veronica senses something is not right with the youth, he has a peculiar aroma about him, and does not look clean, a little, dare I say it, scurvy? He is not ready for the retail end of the Walmart.

Veronica is the foreman of the warehouse, and like all the high paying jobs at the Walmart, she is very insecure. One of the forklift crew called out sick this particular Tuesday, and Veronica decides that Scurvy Steve is ready to use the forklift. Scurvy Steve cannot believe his luck, this Tuesday, his social worker is coming to check up on him, and he has the ten spot he borrowed from him, last month. 

At 9:30 the coffee truck pulls up to the big rolling doors out back, Scurvy Steve and Lenny each get a Red Bull and go behind the dumpster to finish off a some primo weed rolled to perfection by Lenny's soon to be pregnant ex-wife (he does not know this fact yet).  As Scurvy Steve gets back on the lift he sees through his haze, Joe Somebody walking towards him in the wide aisles. As Joe gets closer, just about 10 feet away, Veronica tells Steve through his headset to hurry up getting that pallet from the top shelf.  

Scurvy Steve's mind is trying to process just one too many pieces of the puzzle at one time.  He wants to show off to Joe, prove to Veronica that he can do forklift work every day, as he slides the forks into the pallet, somehow, in this moment, the fork going into the pallet is very sexual, wow, "that weed is awesome", he says to himself, but the Red Bull caffeine is kicking his heart, but the can is slipping out of his hand, he has the $10 to pay back to Joe, all this comes together to create the perfect storm.  Just as Joe arrives, the Red Bull spills, the money drops to the ground, and he is starting to get a boner that would scare the crack of dawn, and, Yep, you guessed it, the pallet of Listerine slides off the forks, and crushes Joe Somebody to a fresh minty death. 

and that, is the rest of the story, ain't Karma a Bitch?