yeah, that SUCKS!

I felt like I was going to die.  I couldn’t even stand up.  I just stood there the best way I knew how, while crouched over moaning, whaling, and sweating profusely.  It was as if I had just gotten kicked in the balls, a pain that I wouldn’t wish on many people- so unbearable that I cried.  I couldn’t stand it and came very close to losing it.  The shire agony was obvious and written all over my face as if I had been wearing a mood ring.  I couldn’t keep my cool anymore and my initial impression was at the most secondary to the torture I was experiencing.  This, without a doubt, was going to be the biggest pooh that I would ever take in my whole entire life.

I had to pooh so bad I almost passed out!  Meanwhile my supervisor, god bless her, wouldn’t stop talking to me.  “Oh Sweetie, what’s wrong?”  Debbie was legitimately concerned.  But I had just met this woman like five minutes ago.  How could I tell her?  “Is everything alright at home?  Is it girl trouble?  Did somebody break your heart?”  She kept rambling on and on, “Listen, Michael- you’re a very handsome guy.  Oh- did I just say that?  Now I feel awkward hih uhh uhh uhh hihuh.  Well, what I meant to say was- I know that I just met you, but you seem like such a gentleman.  You’re so young and if she doesn’t see that then she’s really not worth it.  I’m not trying to get into your business, but I have been there before.  Oh- you poor thing- so much pain.  You are obviously very sensitive and if she knew that she’d know what she’s missing.  There are plenty of other fish in the sea and most women would kill to have someone as sensitive as you.  Again Michael, I know I don’t know you, but I can see that you have a lot of class and that’s one of- if not the most important traits to have- in life and relationships.”  At this point I’m crying and she thinks she’s hitting my problem write on.  “I’m an excellent judge of character, Michael.  I know class when I see it and you, Michael, you’re a class act.”

On the verge of passing out, I glazed over to her through stars of lightheadedness and tears, “Alright!  Thank you, but I really have to take a fucking pooh!  OKAY!”

The night before, my half Asian girlfriend’s crazy aunt had the two of us over for dinner in an attempt to appease me.  Evidently she found out that I heard how she initially thought I was a black guy as my last name, Hamilton, sounded to her like an African American name.  Granted, the woman was on like eighteen different types of medications and trailed a Ryder truck of issues behind her.  (That is when the fat ass actually left the house.)  Regardless, she thought I’d be insulted to hear how she thought I was black, so the little tub of happiness had us over for corned beef and cabbage.  Coincidentally, I have Scotch Irish roots.

Low and behold, she still managed to prove herself to be a total pooh butt and totally out to lunch, butt damn it!  That was the best corned beef and cabbage that this cracker ever had.  She kept asking, “Do you like the food?  Do you like the food?”  And I kept on answering, “Yes!  It’s delicious!”  It was delicious and I couldn’t stop eating for that very reason, in addition to the fact that whenever I opened my mouth the whole room would get silent like I was a big jerk.  All I did was answer her honestly when I told her that my mom usually makes corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick’s Day- only.  Then she brought up the whole issue of my last name again where I sarcastically responded, “Oh that’s Ok, Hamilton kind of sounds like Jefferson, Jackson actually Johnson kind of.”  At that point she just turned into a total bastard on me, “You know what Michael, you think that you’re making a light hearted joke kind of like one of those sparklers on the fourth of July, but your not!  You’re burning the house down.  You’re burning the whole fucking house down!” After that I just continued stuffing my face like a recently freed hostage.

So when I headed to midtown for day one of my new temp assignment.  Jessica and I took the train that morning together.  It was a typical crowded morning on the 4, 5, but by the time we got to 59th street my ass was feeling abnormally under the weather.  Not even a quarter to nine and I already had bubble guts.  “Jessica, why is your aunt such a dumbass?  How much medication is she on anyway?”  She gave me this look like my questions had just come way out of left field.  garble garble, “Never mind!”  Then she gives me the your such a jerk look, “You know, you are so ungrateful- Can’t you just see that she wants you to like her?!”  guhluhblubblubblubblubblub.

I then really had to do a stinky.  The train was crowded so I just let it go- fuck it.  What was I supposed to do?  Hold it in and get a stomach ache.  Anyway- it’s not like anybody thought it was me.  I’m good looking!  I also blamed it on an old lady like I always do.  Sffffffffffff- it burnt a little bit like someone stuck a Tabasco marinated cork in my buttum.

I showed up at the new ‘opportunity’, opportunity to make a total butt of myself, a little before 9:00 that day.  The company was a tech consulting firm and I was temporarily filling in for the receptionist- who was probably out getting her boobs done or something.  Anyway, I was greeted by Debbie, my supervisor, whom was extremely polite and began to show me around.  Then some dude, a total tool, but very nice approached the two of us.  “So- uh…Debbie…uh…who’s thus?”

“Oh this is Michael; he is going to be our receptionist for a few days while the other bitch is out getting her boobs done.”

“Alright- Noice to meet ya Mike.  So what are ya…uh…like an actor or somethin?”

I replied with a polite, “No”.

“Uh, out of work huh?  Debra, you got bigger fush to froy I can show hum around.”

Debbie puzzled, “Oh well I was just about to show him the.”

He then cuts her off, “Debra I gawt it.  A mans gawtta know where the coffee is.  C’mon Mike.”  This guy was, happy, positive and seemed tickled to show me the ropes- giggling the whole time.

The office looked like a giant starbucks.  “To the luft, see that’s where we sit…So are ya trying to get into IT.?”

I smiled politely, “not especially.”

“Uhh…Just looking for some extra cash…huh?  That’s cool.  I hear that.  So Mike, oh jeeze- sorry…I’m Frank; I’m an independent consultant for blah blah blah.”  He then described in great detail what he did in words that I really couldn’t understand.  This guy was so brilliant yet a dumbass at the same time.  It almost seemed schizophrenic.  “Uh…It’s pretty good.  Yuh know- I’m my own boss…uhh duhhh uh uh uh.”

Now at this point I’m thinking he may be his own boss, but his right hand is definitely employee of the month.  He was a nice guy, but I was starting to get a peculiar vibe from him.  Meanwhile, my stomach started to feel like a fish tank, a dirty fish tank filled with crazy piranhas.

Frank started to show me around the break room.  “So here ya gawt your coffee machine…uh…oh- uh…Mike, you can totally help yourself to anything ya want.”  Alright this guy isn’t so bad.  “Chuck thus out- thus is moy favorite thing.  Alright- uh…soover here ya got all your different flavors of coffee and what nawt, roasts and Decaffee are here.”

To add a little life into the adventure I’m like, “decaffe what’s the point of that?”           He laughed, “huh huh…uh…hih…Yeah roight? ih hih uh huh huh.”

I’m like, “seriously, it’s like non alcoholic beer.”

“Totally!”  ih hih hih.”  Then he crouches over to me and whispers, “Like a set of tits on a nun! ih hih hih…”

Man, this guy was a total tool.  Not that I’m one to judge somebody, because they may have blonde pubes for hair pulled back in a pony tail, but this guy acted like a tool, dressed like a tool, was a tool.

I then started to day dream; I hate to use the word tool.  What am I fucking Tim Allen?  Now that guy is a tool.  I bet Jonathan Taylor Thomas takes it in the butt.

“So uh, I prefer the Frunch Roast.  Nayow chuck thus out. ehhhhhh.  Ok- Ya take thuh little cup and stick it in here.  Pruss the green start button.  Oh yeah- ih…uhh…- duhhhh… You moight want to put a cup there.  uh…seriously one of our interns, this girl,” while gesticulating he whispers fuckin cans out to here, “uh huh…she was about a C-cup, slammin, like blah daow- you know what Uhm Saying…uh huh huh huh…  She forgawt ih hih huh… she forgawtt uh to put the cup there, man what a fuckin muss!   Ih hih uh huh uh huh uh…not that I wouldn’t do her or anything… You know what I mean ih hih uh huh.  So anyways yuh pruss thuh green buttunn end boom.  There yah go- coffee.”  Oh it was miraculous.  The coffee just started filling the cup instantly.  “Oh yeah, uh…the refrigerator is here of course.  Lets see, oh you want melk? Half n half? ”

” Yeah that’s great.”

He hands me the coffee.  “Oh thus machine is soo cool.  I literally drink like 20 cups of thus stuff a day.  Starbucks totally sucks compared tuh thus stuff.”  He then pours his milk in and takes a sip, “sssssss ih ahhhhhhhh that is one good cup of fuckin coffee.  I’m tellin yuh- I wanna steal thus machine and put in my house.  Ih hih uh huh.  Oh yeah- I forgawt to show ya…”

Now this coffee isn’t helping my little problem at all.

“Soda machine is here and candy and shit is over there, I usually go to loike Duane Reed or somethun loike that and get like those Halloween, fun soized bags and kind of snack on those sssssp ih ahhhhh- slurp.   Oh check thus out.”

Now there are literally beads of sweat coming off my forehead.

“What uh don’t you loike the coffee?”

“No man, the coffees fine.”

“I uh oh yeah can’t function wuthout thus stuff- its loike prozak, of course I’d rather have alcohol…ih…hih…uh…huh.”  He notices that I’m sweating, “Oh I know man, its pretty fuckin hawt in here.  Now this is loike one of the most tuts parts of thus company wroite here.”  He opens up the refrigerator again, “all the free chocolate melk…you could ever wawnt.  It’s so freakin tuh-hits!  Go ahead man, get awn that shut!”           “Alright man cool”.  I grabbed one of the jumbo sized cups.  I thought that maybe it would settle the disaster going on in my stomach.

“Dude!  Oi gotta show yuh the patio.  Its so tuh-hits!”

So were walking through the break room, which kind of reminded me of a high school classroom in that it had shiny white vinyl tile flooring, ceiling tiles also kind of similar to a classroom’s-, I’m not sure what that material is.  It’s kind of like an insulator that absorbs sound- cross between a drywall and fiber glass material- I think.  The lighting was kind of similar to a classroom’s as well with florescent bulbs suspended down from the ceiling in retro like fixtures.  The whole decor of the office was a contemporary retro, if that makes sense- a kind of mod and modern feel that actually would date it to its time- perhaps a coincidental metaphor to companies as such that are now no longer and a thing of the past.

He turns his head to me, “I’ll tell ya how you can make some surious quck money, what ya gawtta do is go to Columbia and hand out pamphlets awn how to meet chicks.  Dude, you could loike sell them for like twenty bucks a piece- I’m tellin ya!”

Now I’m thinking what planet is this guy from? “Really dude?  And what makes you think that just because Columbia is filled with smart people that their actually dorks as well.  Isn’t that kind of a generalization?”

He came back at me in a cocky tone, “Dude, c’mon trust me- I uh huh huh uh…know.”  Then pointing to the obvious I asked him if he went to Columbia.

We stepped out on to the patio which rose a good 17 stories or so above midtown Manhattan.  It was really an awesome patio.  The deck was made out of a rubberized high school track material and the railings were a white metal piping bolted to the partial brick wall that was only about two feet tall.  This was obviously the coolest floor of the building as you could look out to a spectacular view and up to the remaining twenty or so stories that didn’t have a patio.

“Dude, one time I took thus chic up here that I met at”

I then cut him off, “Yeah, that’s great.”  In disappointment that I didn’t want to hear his story,

“Whuh?…”

Now I felt bad so I had to cut him off again by acting like I was just distracted by how truly awesome the patio was.”  My excitement in a way canceled out my boldness in cutting him off.  During this whole time I felt like my ass was about to explode.  bludem bluhuhduhdum bluhduhdudem.  I had a serious case of the bubble guts.  This guy still wanted to talk.  “You- you gawt any smokes?”

While taking another sip of my chocolate milk, “Uhm-…no man- sorry.”

He then politely giggles, “No man- I meant do you want a smoke?”

The chocolate milk at this time was doing anything but settle my stomach.  Perhaps a cigarette would help do the trick?  “Alright cool, I’ll take one.”

“It’s uh… uhm…uh…Marb Red…is that uh cool?”

“Yeah dude- that’s fine.”  At this point- I would try anything to keep my ass shut.  I then suddenly had the imagery of pooping off the roof with it landing on a sales guy or something and then I began to laugh out loud.

“Uh what’s so funny?”

I could just read it all over his face that he thought I was maybe thinking he was a pud puller, because he suggested the picking up chicks’ pamphlet.  “Oh nothing, I just thought of something kind of funny.”

“What- what’s so funny?”

“Do you know that they say if a bird shits on you that its good luck?”

An insecure smile appears across his face. “Oh…uhh huh huh…Where’d the fuck that come from?”  Then he lights my smoke, “Uhh huh huh- your a weird dude!”  He exhales.

I then took two drags off my cigarette, “Dude, I’m sorry- I gotta really take a shit!”

“Yeah well it’s a Marb red- uh huh huh uh huh huh…these things will put fuckin hair on your ass uh huh…at least its not a Newport…that’s what all the fuckin niggers smoke.”

In partial offense to the comment, “What?”

“Yeah…uh huh- didn’t you notice that’s what all the fuckin niggers smoke…uh huh we call em gorilla biscuits or ghetto mints…uh huh huh.”

I really hate it when people generalize and think just because I’m white I’d appreciate that kind of humor.  Did this guy think that I looked like a red neck or something?  “You didn’t really go to Columbia did you?” I could tell that he really felt dumb.  Then again he really seemed to know computers.

“Uh huh…So you gawt a girlfriend?”

“Yeah I do.”  This guy is taking absolutely no hint, but I am about to shit my pants like a drunk Sorority girl.

“So…uh…huh…I bet she’s fuckin hawt.  Is she hawt? Howdja meeter?”  This guy, well, I actually felt bad for him as he had no clue and the way he made sense of the world was a little off.  “Uh…huh…uh what’s…what’s she fuckin look like?  C-cup?”

I’m like “dude!”

With a vicarious look on his face, “Awe…C’mon!  What’s she look loike?”

I pulled another drag exhaled, “Alright, “She’s half Japanese and half American German.”

His eyes then lit up, “Oh…uh…yellow fever…huh?  How’d you meet her?”

I’m looking over the rail, “She lives in my brothers building.  When I first moved here I lived with my brother and he was never around so that’s how I met her, besides I was never around on the weekends, because I was playing in a band.”

“A band- no shut, bet there’s a lot of pussy there…huh?”

I was really getting antsy.  “Dude, I’m sorry, but I really gotta take a shit! – Plus I should get to work.  Can you please show me where the bathroom is?”  I took a few more drags and was getting dizzy about to lose all control of my butt.

This guy could talk the balls off a rhinoceros.  “Oh here’s one…uh huh huh…what’s better than a twelve year old Vietnamese prostitute?”

God damn it!  Will this guy ever shut up?  “I don’t know man what?”

“Uh huh huh uhh…nothin…uh huh huh.

This guy was so clueless I actually started to feel sorry for him.  He was in his early thirties and had probably never really kissed a girl before, (without paying for it anyway).  Regardless, his comments were really starting to piss me off and more importantly, I really had to pooh.  Then on the flip side I felt he needed some help, but then again there was nothing I could really do to help him.  He was desperate, but, you really don’t know what a guy like that could be capable of.  Super intelligence and lack of common sense is always frightening

“Alright” I said, “I’m gonna make this brief.  Women are only devices put on the Earth by the Lord Jesus Christ to serve man.  Where’s the fucking bathroom?”

At this point I made a b-line for the bathroom.  Debbie, my supervisor, called to me from the supply closet, but that was definitely not a priority as I literally couldn’t even stand up straight.  I just kind of blew past her like I didn’t hear her and went straight for the bathroom.  Fuck!  Somebody was in there.  I politely knocked on the door and the guy in there didn’t respond; instead, he just continued doing whatever it was that he was doing?  All I know is- I kept hearing the water going on and off and the paper towel machine- clank! clank!  I don’t know what he was doing in there, but he acted like he owned the place.  What a butt- hole!

Then to continue with the forefront of the story, Debbie then came up to me to find me there hunched over.  As she proceeded with her analysis, I just stood there crouched over in utter pain as this jerk was taking his sweet time in there.  Water going on and off- the paper towel machine- clank! clank! clank!  This is all going on while Debra is analyzing my situation and my ass is now dilated as I am about to give birth to a solid.

The whole time this guy is taking his time, “There were clouds in mah coffay cuhlayouds in muh coffay- and duhm duhm duhm da da ta da ta da ta da da da- hummm hummmmm hummmmm- Yaw so vayne- yaw so vay-heen!”  Meanwhile Debs is over there telling me all about how much class I have (which was soon about to change).

The last thing I remember I finally told Debbie, Debra or whatever her name was that I had to pooh before I barged in the bathroom to find this jerk squinting in the mirror as if he really looked like that in real life.

Now first off, I’ll be the first to say that I am without a doubt the nicest guy in the world, however, if you kick me in the balls, rip me off or play naked yahtzee with my girlfriend- I don’t give a fuh- huck- I’m gonna kick your ass sooner or later.  I again, very politely I might add, knocked on the door and got a very condescending, “just a minute.”  I don’t know who this trendy wheat grass, gingko biloba guy was, but I felt like I had just gotten kicked in the balls, I was being misdiagnosed and about to blow up a spot.

Then when I barged in the guy had the audacity to give me the look like I was in the wrong which prompted me to yell at him.  “I’m going to fucking kill you!”  In his eyes that may have seemed a little rash and I probably looked like ‘Die Hard’ (without a bloody lip).  So I was like, “Buddy, listen- I just had a cigarette and chugged a bunch of chocolate milk.  You better get the fuck out of here write now if you know what’s good for you!”

Man- I couldn’t get my pants off fast enough.  All I know is the poor cow of last nights corned beef cabbage feast had its revenge.  It was like Ron Jeremy was standing behind me in a stinky leprechaun outfit.  I felt like I was passing a school bus.  Then when I thought I was finished, I stood up to see it just looking at me and it said, “Hey Jawge!”

I felt bad, kind of, when I had to flush the bastard down the well like it was baby Jessica or something.  He was crying out, “Oh No Jawge bluhduhbluhduhbluhduhblub!”, and then clogged the toilet hanging out part way- sticking out of the water like an oil rig.

When I initially thought I was finished I stood up straight igniting a second round that was corked by a rock type dried up umbilical cord remnant that suddenly shot out of my butt like a ping-pong ball out of a dirty ballerina.  This forced me to blow up the spot as if I had turned myself out leaving shizzle all over the stall, which on the flip side (to counter a negative with a positive) most likely made the standard little hairs- that normally occupy the toilet seat seam like a country club.  Whatever- after cleaning up the filth off myself I was then finally ready to begin the assignment.

That was definitely the worst.  The second came about six years earlier when I was in high school.  I had to have been like fifteen or sixteen at the time- that’s irrelevant, but I was shit-faced and shit-full.  I was walking home from a party when all the sudden I had to pooh.  I don’t know what my problem was, but I had to lay some cable/ Anyway- I finally couldn’t take it anymore.  I happened to be walking through an affluent residential neighborhood and I just couldn’t hold it.  So I saw this hop scotch board written on the sidewalk and I said to myself, “Hey- I’m gonna crap on that thing.”  But as I was squatting over the sidewalk I suddenly changed my mind.  I was thinking, Hey that’s not cool.  Little kids drew this hop scotch board and my sister, I’m sure has probably played hop-scotch and I’m sure, if she ever did, she probably would have had fun and spent a lot of time drawing the board on the sidewalk in multi-colored chalk with her little hands.  So I was like, Man this aint cool yo- so I instead poohed on the side of the house, but I had nothing to wipe my butt with.  What did the Cannibal do after he dumped his girlfriend?  Well he wiped his butt.  Anyway I poohed on the side of the house and had nothing to clean up with- forcing me to use my boxers.  Actually- they were tighty whities- I can’t tell a lie.  So to make a short story long, I wiped my butt with those and then got the bright idea to scoop it up and throw it at the house.  I’m such an asshole- I know, but at the time I thought it would be funny to throw my pooh at the giant glass front doors.  I don’t know why, but it just kind of splatted there and stuck- with my shitty underwear hanging from it.  It was ill!  I have often imagined and pondered over how long it actually may have actually stuck there.  For instance, when the dad went to open his front door the next morning to grab the paper- Was he greeted at eye level by a bunch of shit serving as an adhesive to adhere my dirty stinky poohpie underwear.  Whatever, if Karma exists- God forbid I wind up living in a rich neighborhood with the inconvenience of poopie underwear on my front door.  I can handle that.  As a matter of fact I deserve it.

After pondering this, I was then finally ready to start the day.  And no, I wasn’t able to remedy the disaster I left in the well.  I’m not a plumber!  The first thing I did do, however, was grab some of the company’s literature (as I always do), because as a temp, I like to learn as much about the companies I temp for to make the experiences the most viable.  Needless to say, for this company anyway that wasn’t necessary as I quickly learned that the guy in the bathroom actually did own the place so I was asked to leave- essentially before I even sta

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