Story 151: Hawking Your Wares

            “Matt, you’re sampling ----- Sauce today over by Books and Clothes.”

           “Oh man, that’s right by Sheila’s station!  Can’t I sample ---- Chocolate over by Dairy and Baking?  Marissa wouldn’t mind me taking that!”  He knew that she actually would mind, very much.

            “Marissa didn’t call out sick and Ron did, so you’re sampling ----- Sauce and not another word about it.”  There was none.

            Matt set up the sauce samples on his table before the store opened, dreading what was to come.  It wasn’t the greedy and/or cheap customers who only sampled all the tables in the store for an aggregate free meal – everyone knew that this was a loss leader that resulted in one direct sale in a thousand, but succeeded in its true goal of repeat business and the false sense of pulling the wool over the company’s eyes by getting “free food” (there is no such thing, and the wool does not exist).  He could handle them; most snatched and ran anyway, leaving him in peace.  No, it was Sheila he dreaded.

          Sheila: she of the booming voice and the aggressive sales techniques.  Sheila, who overpowered all within her radius by her sheer force of will and vocal cords.  Sheila, who made the numbers of all employees who sampled around her shrivel up and become inert.

            Sheila, the samples closer.

          “Samples of ----- Sauce!”  Matt preemptively struck when he saw the first traces of outside humanity begin their aimless wandering through the aisles.  He was around the corner from his opponent and could not see her: all he knew of her presence was The Voice.

            “----- CHICKEN!  GET SOME ------ CHICKEN HERE!  FRESH OFF THE ROTISSERIE!”

            “Good morning, like to try some ------ Sauce?”

            “TASTY ------ CHICKEN!”

            “Have some – ”

            “CHICKEN!  SAMPLE SOME ----- CHICKEN!”

            “Try some ----- Sauce, on sale for – ”

            “YOU!  TRY THIS ----- CHICKEN, IT’S SIMPLY DELICIOUS!”

            “How about some – ”

      “I’VE GOT ------ CHICKEN HERE, DOESN’T ANYBODY WANT SOME ----- CHICKEN?!!!!”

            And so on for eight hours.

            By the end of his shift, Matt had only sampled a tenth of the stock that he had been given; he hung his head in shame as he turned over his table to the next employee and clocked out for the day.

            “Hey Matt,” a raspy voice addressed him as he waited for his ride at the front of the store; he turned and saw Sheila, who had never before spoken to him directly in the two years that he had worked there.

            “Hi….?”  He replied.

            “Don’t feel bad about today – the managers set up that spot for the products they don’t want to carry anymore, and the only way to keep Corporate from sending them to us without figuring out what’s going on is to kill the sales.  Ron usually has the honor, but he got laryngitis.”

            “Oh.  So you weren’t trying to out-sample me, then?”

         “Well, no, I try to out-sample everybody; I just wanted to let you know that your table placement today was more of a reflection on the product rather than on you as an employee.”

            “Oh.  OK.  Thanks?”

           “You’re welcome.  Just don’t try to be like me – you’ll have no voice left by the time you hit 30.”

Story 150: Digging an Epic Hole

            She was on the phone with the gas company for the seventh time: “But when I called yesterday the technician was scheduled to come here today – why is it now scheduled for tomorrow?”

            Son appeared in the backyard doorway, holding a trowel in one hand and a bucket in the other: “Mommy, is it all right if I dig a hole to the center of the Earth in the backyard?”

            “Hold on a sec – yes, sweetie, just not in Mommy’s flower garden.  Or near the shed.  Or by the – just do it in the middle of the yard, please.”

            “OK, I will.”  He departed.

            “Yes, I’m still here.  No, no, that wasn’t done until the second visit; I was talking about the first visit.”

            Son appeared in the backyard doorway, now wearing a miner’s helmet with the headlamp lit: “Mommy, do we have any extra lumber for me to shore up the hole’s walls?”

            “What?  Just be careful honey; you can use the wheelbarrow if you want.”

            “OK, I will.”  He departed.

           “Um, let’s see, the first visit was in March, and the second was in May; do you think the computer might have mixed up the months?”

            Son appeared in the backyard doorway, holding the trowel handle and sweating: “Mommy, the outer core melted the trowel, do we have any heat-resistant tools that I can borrow?  They would need to withstand at least 6,000 kelvins.”

            “It was in March!  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just a sec – honey, Mommy’ll be off the phone in a minute, if the trowel broke you can take the other one from the shed.”

            “OK, I will.”  He departed.

            “Sorry, I – what?  So someone’ll be here today and the bills will be fixed?  OK, I’ll wait for the letter in the mail to make sure, but thank you very much…. OK, you too, bye-bye.”  She disconnected the phone and slumped in the kitchen chair.

            Son appeared in the backyard doorway; she could see a strange glow in the air behind him: “Mommy, I reached the center of the Earth, want to come see?”

            “Of course!  Are any more of my tools broken?”

            “Two trowels and the wheelbarrow were sacrificed during the expedition, I’m afraid.”

            She joined him outside and they peered down the narrow hole that led straight to the Earth’s inner core.

            “That’s… some hole,” was all she could say.

            He beamed with pride: “Glad you like it – I made it myself.”

Story 149: My Car Was Used in a Chase Scene

(Inspired by Jason Bourne rather than by a true story)

            The mini-TV in the break room featured some exciting news:

            “Hey, look guys, an actual car chase with the cops!”

            “Oooohhhh….”

            The co-workers gathered around the set and watched in rapture as a news helicopter filmed the high-speed chase down the parkway.  There were dodgings and weavings, there were near-misses with adventurous deer, there were close encounters with school buses full of children, and state lines were crossed.

            “Hey Janice, isn’t that your car?”

            Janice stared at the vehicle that had been coerced into service as a getaway car: the bright red gash on the grey paint of the passenger door and the now-permanent KRAZY KITTENS decal on the roof could not be denied.

            She denied it: “Nooo, my car’s still in the parking lot here – ” she peered out the window and saw an empty space surrounded by a path of demolition where her car had been.  “I’ll be right back.”

            She walked briskly out of the break room; her co-workers watched until she left and then turned back to the Breaking News: “And the vehicle approaches another police barricade – oh!  It burst right through it!  Those dents aren’t coming off the finish anytime soon, let me tell you.”

THIRTY MINUTES LATER

            “The pursuit continues as the battered sedan bumper-cars its way through rush hour traffic – hold on, I see another vehicle is now tailing the suspect, separate from the police cars in pursuit.  The second vehicle is coming up behind the suspect – it taps the left fender – oh!  The suspect’s vehicle spins out of control!  It’s taking out even more cars than before, but yes!  It finally has come to a stop!  Police surround the suspect’s vehicle – the suspect emerges – he surrenders himself to law enforcement and they are carrying him away in exhaustion!  Oh, what a happy ending to this roadway menace!  It does beg the question: who is going to clean up this mess?!

            “Let’s cut over to the driver of the second vehicle, the one who finally put an end to this hellish chase.  Reporter on scene?”

            “Yes, thank you – tell us, ma’am, what is your connection to this case?  Just a concerned citizen?”

            “Yes, all that, and that car there is mine – if anyone’s going to create of swath of destruction with it, it’s gonna be me!”