Thursday, August 29, 2024

Story 553: Laboring on Labor Day

             “Sighhhhhhhhhhhhh….”

“What are you all stretched out smugly on the couch for?”

“Oh, just reveling in the fact that for the first time in more than 10 years, I get Labor Day off from work.  The actual day, mind you – not some pity day later in the week when fall has unofficially started, no: the actual day.  The last day of lifeguarded pools and beaches is mine, all mine, mwahahahahaha!”

“We already agreed to host Labor Day barbecue at our house this year.”

“…Drat.”

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *       

            “You know, it’s a real bummer that no matter what the holiday, some of us still have to clock in like it’s a regular ol’ work day.  I made my peace years ago with losing Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, Memorial Day, Juneteenth, Fourth of July, my birthday, my partner’s birthday, my children’s birthdays, and World Chocolate Day, but losing Labor Day on top of all those especially sticks in my craw for some reason.  I think it’s the irony of the whole situation, that even on a day specifically designated to give laborers a break, some of us still have to work regardless, or else life as we know it falls apart.  I don’t think I’ll ever stop being bitter about it.”

“Mm-hmm: will you be closing up the incision on this patient now, Doctor, or would you like me to do it?”

“Nah, I got it.  Livin’ the dream, am-I-right?!”

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“I can’t believe I have to spend Labor Day helping people with trying on every piece of clothing we have in the store, and then cleaning up the disgusting messes they leave behind that somehow are more than they brought in with them, plus trying to set up autumn and Halloween displays in-between policing the dressing rooms and the even-filthier restrooms, when I could be relaxing on a deck chair next to an inground pool while barbecue sizzles behind me and impish children roughhouse around me.  It’s just not fair.”

“I thought you weren’t invited to any barbecues this year – that’s why you volunteered to work on Labor Day in the first place?”

“It’s the principle of the thing!”

             *         *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“I’ve finally made it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I finally have a job that actually gives us Labor Day off.”

“That’s great!  You’ve been wanting that for years, and it’s happened at last!  Congratulations on the paid holiday!”

“Thanks!”

“So, what’re your big plans for your well-deserved three-day weekend, so long overdue?  It’s the last unofficial day of summer – you can do anything you want, absolutely anything!”

“You’re right!  The world is my oyster, and I can seize the entire day until it’s completely dried up!”

“Exactly!  What adventures will you embark on joyously that day, then?”

“…I have no idea.”

Thursday, August 22, 2024

Story 552: Off-Season Hot Chocolate

             (In an ice cream parlor at a beach town during the summer, the line snakes out the door and around the corner of the building late at night.  Behind the counter, Manager and three Employees field multiple orders at a time from large groups, with no breaks from the never-ending line)

Manager: (Smiling while handing over several cones and cups to a multi-generational party, who take the desserts and run) Here ya go!  (Immediately rings up the order from memory and addresses the group’s representative) That’ll be $40.87.

Customer 1: (Freezes while digging out a wallet) It wasn’t that high last year.

Manager: (Still smiling, briefly points to the giant sign on the wall behind the counter listing all the food, drinks, and prices) Well, prices are all posted, and as you know, this is a family-run business with all our specialty, hand-crafted tastes and treats made with the utmost care and love – and all that ain’t gettin’ any cheaper.  (Holds out a hand) $40.87, please.

Customer 1: (Counts out exact change) Here – next time I’m telling them all to order the smallest size.

Manager: (Dumps the cash into the register) You do you.  (As Customer 1 starts to turn away, Manager slides the tip jar over) Ah-ah-ah.

Customer 1: I thought you said this was family-run?  Don’t you get all the profit?

Manager: Me and behind-the-scenes are family – (Nods at Employees) That crew’s a bunch of doomed college students who’ll need all the help they can get.

Employee 1: (Freezes mid-scoop) Huh?

Manager: Like you don’t know – (Points to the ice cream carton) and make sure you don’t sweat in that thing like last night!  (Employee 1 ducks out of the case while finishing scooping as Manager cheerfully turns back to Customer 1) So?

Customer 1: (Tosses a dollar into the jar) Vacations ain’t getting’ any cheaper, either.  (Leaves)

Manager: (Mutters) I’ll bet.  (Loudly) Next!

Customer 2: (Approaches the counter) Hi, can I have a… (Squints up at the giant sign) Rootin’ Tootin’ Banana Split Fruitin’ Fudge Brownie –

Manager: Yeah, I really need to shorten that title; what size?

Customer 2: GRANDE.

Manager: Ohh-kaay, that’s a large.  (Briefly taps Employee 2’s shoulder as the latter is topping off a sundae) When you’re done with that order, go in the back and make up a large #4.

Employee 2: (Whines) Aw, Boss, do I have to?

Manager: (Stares balefully at Employee 2) Yes!  You’re the only one here besides me who can make it competently, and I am not leaving this counter unsupervised!  And it’s your job, so get moving.  (Turns back to Customer 2) That’ll be a few minutes – (Points to a nearby table) Would you mind waiting there until it’s done, please?  You can pay when it’s delivered to you.

Customer 2: With great anticipation.  (Spins around, glides over to the table, and slides onto the chair)

Manager: (Quietly) Oh my.  (To the rest of the room) Next!

Customer 3: (Steps up to the counter, very intense) Hello.

Manager: Hi!  How can I help you?

Customer 3: I would like a small hot chocolate, please.

(Everyone else in the ice cream parlor freezes; mouths drop open in shock and/or mid-bite, and ice cream falls off scoops and back into cartons, unchecked)

Manager: (Trying to maintain a smile) …Come again?

Customer 3: You heard me.

Manager: We… don’t serve hot chocolate here.

Customer 4: (On line by the front door) Yeah, `cause this is an ice cream parlor, ya weirdo!

Customer 3: (Ignoring the comment) I see that you serve coffee here, correct?

Manager: Yes, rarely –

Customer 3: Well then: use the same milk steamer that you would use for that, and pour some syrup or melt some fudge in it, and there you are.  Oh, and some of your homemade mini marshmallows to top it off would be most appreciated.

Manager: It’s… more of an… off-season menu item….

Customer 3: I fail to discern the issue here.

Customer 5: (In the middle of the line) That’s right: I see everyone else having hot coffee and hot tea all summer long, what’s the big deal?!  (Is shoved back toward the door by other Customers)

(Employee 2 slowly emerges from the back delicately carrying an extremely large platter laden with brownies, fruit, candy, and more toppings than ice cream)

Employee 2: All righty, who ordered the Rootin’ Tootin’ – ?

Manager: (Still locking eyes with Customer 3) NOT!  NOW!

Employee 2: (Immediately turns around and heads into the back) Okey dokey.

Manager: (Turns and points to Employee 3) You: turn on the steamer, grab five tablespoons of chocolate chips, and make a small hot chocolate topped with mini marshmallows.

Employee 3: (Panicking) But Boss, it’s the middle of summer, this just isn’t done!

Manager: That’s an order, Rising Sophomore!  (Employee 3 wails while turning on the steamer and scrambling to gather the chocolate chips)  Welcome to the real world, kiddo!  (Turns back to Customer 3 with a strained smile) Anything else?

Customer 3: No, that’ll be all for tonight, thank you.

Manager: (Types into the register) That’ll be $4.00… plus an extra 90 cents for the topping.

Customer 3: (Hands over $5.00) Keep the dime.  (Shoves a few dollars into the tip jar) For your trouble.

Manager: (Strained smile) Thank you.  It’s no trouble.

Employee 3: (Carefully walks over to Customer 3 and shakily hands over the hot chocolate, sniffling) One small hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows topping.

Customer 3: (Takes the cup) I thank you.  (Turns to leave)

Manager: DON’T – (Customer 3 turns back) you want to try it out?  Make sure it was made to your… satisfaction?

Customer 3: (Smiles bitterly) I trust the integrity of your family-run business and doomed college staff.  (Turns around slowly to address the waiting Customers) I will not be shamed further by your judgmental views of my dessert beverage of choice, just because it’s not the stereotypical season for it!  Or iced!  Or coffee!  Or tea!  Hypocrites!  (The other Customers lower their heads, chastened)  Besides – it’s too hot and I’ll burn my mouth if I drink it right now.  (Rushes through the parting crowd and out the door, cackling)

(A few moments of embarrassed silence, until – )

Customer 2: (Raises hand while sitting at the table) Excuse me?  Can I have my #4 now, please?

Manager: (Shakes self out of daze as Employees begin taking orders from Customers again) Oh yeah, sorry – it’s on the house.  (Yells at the back) #4, you’re up!

Employee 2: (Peeks head out) Is it safe to come out now?

Manager: Yes, before the whole thing melts!  Just bring it to Table 1!

Employee 2: (Slowly emerges from the back delicately carrying the platter again) Right: which one’s Table 1?

Manager: (Stares at Employee 2 in disbelief) The only table with a customer sitting at it!

Employee 2: Gotcha.  (Brings the large dessert to Customer 2 and sets it gently on the table) Here ya go!

Customer 2: Thanks ever so much.  (Employee 2 rushes back to the counter; Customer 2 takes a spoon that was stuck into the dessert and whispers to the giant mass of sugar) At last, you are mine.

Manager: (To the crowd) Next!

Customer 6: (Steps up to the counter) Wow, I bet when you started this business you never thought you’d have an order for hot chocolate in the summer, huh?

Manager: True, but I also never thought I’d be serving ice cream to dozens of people past midnight either, and yet, here we are.

Thursday, August 15, 2024

Story 551: Vacation Timelessness Holdover

 AUGUST 4

(On the phone)

Friend 1: Oh hi; what’s up?

Friend 2: Hey, sorry to bother you – probably packing for vacation now, right?

Friend 1: Heh-heh-heh: I don’t pack `til morning of.

Friend 2: What if you have an early-morning flight?

Friend 1: Then I pack earlier-morning.  So, no: I’m just hanging around enjoying my pre-vacation day off from work before I have to hustle myself to The Shore and then really relax.

Friend 2: Great!  Well, I was just calling to wish you safe travels, and have fun with your family down there – need me to collect your mail or water your plants or anything?

Friend 1: Mail’s on hold, and you know all my plants ran away to save themselves from my neglect.

Friend 2: True.  OK, have a great time then, and show me some pictures of the overcrowded beaches and boardwalk or something when you get back.

Friend 1: Thanks!  I’m just looking forward to when I enter the Vacation Timelessness state.

Friend 2: The what state?

Friend 1: You probably know the feeling: it takes about a day or so, but at some point on a long trip I start losing track of the days, the weeks, the months, and if I’m real lucky, the hours and minutes.  Wreaks havoc on reservations, but that’s what the other members of my group are for.

Friend 2: I think I know what you mean.  Whelp, enjoy, but don’t get too timeless that you forget to come back home.

Friend 1: Heh-heh-heh – if only….

AUGUST 19

(On the phone)

Friend 1: Oh hi; what’s up?

Manager: Oh, not much.  So: you showing up to work some time today?

Friend 1: Today?

Manager: You took off more days than most people in this economy feel comfortable with, plus cushion days before and after, so you were scheduled to come back to work on the following Monday.

Friend 1: Monday?

Manager: Yes, I generously gave you off both weekend days – don’t know what I was thinking – even let you sleep in today, what a sap I am – so your shift started at 3:00.

Friend 1: 3:00?

Manager: Just get here in the next 30 minutes and make up the lost hour tomorrow, and I won’t write you up – this time.  (Ends the call)

Friend 1: Thirty minutes?

SEPTEMBER 2

(In a department store, Friend 2 goes to the customer service desk where Friend 1 is stationed)

Friend 2: Hi!

Friend 1: (With a glazed look) Hello, how can I help you?

Friend 2: …It’s me.

Friend 1: (Shakes self briefly) Yeah, sorry – I’ve been a little out of it lately.

Friend 2: I’ll say: you keep missing meeting up for lunch to show me your vacation photos; I figured I could track you down at work since you’d have to be here at some point and can’t escape.  Saved it for Labor Day, since I knew you’d feel a bit down having to work on the one holiday that should be guaranteed off for all laborers, but I guess someone always has to work for the rest of us to enjoy the day, you know?

Friend 1: (Stares blankly at Friend 2) Labor Day?  When is that this year?

Friend 2: (Stares blankly at Friend 1) Today is Labor Day.

Friend 1: (Shakes self briefly again) Oh, right – I get an extra day off later this week instead – which day…?

Friend 2: Are you feeling all right?

Friend 1: Yeah, 100%, why?

Friend 2: You seem more scatterbrained than usual.

Friend 1: (Looks around to make sure no one else is close by, then leans in toward Friend 2 to stage whisper) Actually, I think I may have a timelessness problem.  Possibly even a syndrome.

Friend 2: What?

Friend 1: You know how I said when I go on vacation I start losing track of time?

Friend 2: Yeah, the vacation time bit; so?

Friend 1: Well, usually once I come back to reality then the arbitrarily determined days, months, minutes, hours, and all that jazz come horribly crashing back on me and the inevitable march of mortality resumes in my brain, and all is as it has been, even if it isn’t as it should be.

Friend 2: Yeah?

Friend 1: So this time, that… didn’t happen.

Friend 2: You got back weeks ago.

Friend 1: Weeks?

Friend 2: Yeah, it’s probably almost half a month by now.

Friend 1: Month?

Friend 2: Why do you keep repeating what I’m saying?

Friend 1: Because time-related words have ceased to mean anything to me.  I’ve resorted to setting alerts on my phone and leaving notes for myself everywhere just to simply exist in a world where the clock means something to everyone else.  I used to shop for groceries on the same day every week and now only do so when I’ve run out of food.

Friend 2: Why not set an alert or leave yourself a note for that, too?

Friend 1: Gotta draw the line somewhere.  Point is, I’ve become… unmoored in time.  (Eyes widen in realization) I wonder if that means I can now travel through time?!

Friend 2: I doubt it.  Did you get in an accident, hit your head or something while you were away?

Friend 1: Hm?  Oh, no, nothing like that – went dolphin watching one day; they were pretty fun.

Friend 2: Well, what you’re describing sounds a bit serious and you probably should see a doctor to get your brain checked out.

Friend 1: Forget the timelessness bit – I’m afraid what else they’ll find in there.

SEPTEMBER 15

(On the phone)

Friend 2: Hi!  Did you enjoy your birthday dinner with your folks today?

Friend 1: Always – I’m actually calling to let you know I’m cured.

Friend 2: What?

Friend 1: The timelessness thing.  It’s done; it’s over; I’m back to so-called normal.

Friend 2: Oh… oh!  That’s great!  So, what was it then, did the doctor give you a pill or something?

Friend 1: Didn’t get that far: I had a barrage of scans and blood tests that showed I’m pre-diabetic and peri-lazy, so I got referred to a psychiatrist for next week but I’m cancelling because I got cured in the meantime.

Friend 2: OK, so… how were you cured?

Friend 1: Well, you know this year was the big 4-0 for both of us –

Friend 2: Don’t remind me.

Friend 1: – and at dinner one of my helpful relatives grabbed me by the shoulders right as I was about the blow out the cupcake candles and said “Welcome to Middle Age, chum!”  And that did it.

Friend 2: That was it?  That’s all it took?

Friend 1: Yep.  In the blink of an eye, time got its stranglehold back on my brain, and I now know exactly what day, month, year, etc., etc., it is all over again.

Friend 2: Oh.  Wow.  Kind of a stinky way for it to happen, but whatever works, right?  No more timelessness and feeling unmoored, yay!

Friend 1: Yeah, yay.

Friend 2: What’s the matter now?

Friend 1: …I kind of miss it.

Thursday, August 1, 2024

Story 550: I Didn’t Ask for Your Life Story

            “Oh my goodness, hi!”

“Oh!  Hey there.”

“It’s been so long since I last saw you!  How’ve you been?”

“Heh-heh; want the short version?”

“Ha-ha-ha, it’s all good!”

“OK then: my partner and I split up after 47 years and all I got was a lousy case of lice; had to move outta the house into a one-room apartment, and I mean one-room; got demoted at work two years ago for mouthing off at the customers and my salary got demoted right along with me, with both of us yet to recover; broke my collarbone in a freak roller skating accident a few months ago but that’s all better except now it can forecast the weather if you know what I mean; also the warts all came back at once so my dermatologist is furiously working on how to annihilate those – ”

“Ohhhhh….”

“ – the kids don’t talk to me anymore, but I’d stopped talking to my parents around the same age so I had it coming – ”

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *        *

“Hi there!  How’s life treatin’ ya?”

“Ah, not too bad: the usual aches, pains, and debt, same old story.  How about you?”

“Oh, you know, same old story: demanding family, annoying neighbors, chronic joint issues, going back to prison for violating parole – the usual.”

“…What?”

“You know how it is: you kite a few checks, you embezzle a few charitable organizations, you grand theft a few autos, and all of a sudden you’re Public Enemy #39.”

“Ummm….”

“I suppose I should turn myself in, again, but really, if you’re not living on the edge a little, can you even say you’re living at all?”

“I… think that cop car over there is slowing down to speak with you.”

“Huh?  Shoot.  Well, it’s been great catching up, but I gotta run – we really should talk more some time soon…!

“…Yeah.”

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *        *

“Oh, hello!  It’s been a while since I saw you last, let me think....”

“Twenty-three years.”

Twenty-three years, my-my-my, how time flies!  So… how’ve you been?”

“All right.”

“Really?”

“Yeah: not much going on; can’t complain.  You?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“That’s good.”

“So….”

“So… see you again in 23 years, then?”

“Sounds great, see you then!”

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *        *

“ – occasionally I can’t see out of one eye, but it’s not constant so I’m not gonna bother doing anything about it; ooh, and my car got repossessed last year, but by gum, I got it back.  I think that’s about it for the major stuff; how’ve you been?”

“Hm?  Oh, good, thanks.”

“Just ‘good?’”

“How on Earth could anyone follow that?!”

“Heh-heh, yeah; I do tend to go on.”