wombat

So, now then…

Well, the Gaytard of the Year votes are being counted, my band almost has a name, and things seem to be in a state of limbo. So, you’re probably thinking, “Hey, Wombat, what are you going to talk about today? We want to know who Wombat really is. Why don’t you tell us a story?”

Well. If you insist.

So, I was off yesterday, and since I enjoy flagrantly throwing around responsibility, I went to my job and did nothing. That’s right. I sat there watching everyone else work while I sat by and watched their day become more and more miserable. In case you ever find yourself with a day off and nothing to do, you should try it. Some fun things to do in this situation are as follows: (Note: These work best in a retail environment.)
1) Say, “Why are you so mad?” to your on-the-clock co-workers after they just dealt with an ornery/annoying customer. (They particularly loved this one because I tend to have a Harvey Pekar-type attitude at work, and people are always telling me to calm down and relax. Note: This is a good way to get chicks to rub your back and give you hugs.)
2) Say, “I’m glad I’m not working today.” (They love this one.)
3) When they furrow their brows and say, “If you’re gonna be here, why don’t you do something?” respond with: “I would, but it’s funnier to watch you suffer.”
4) When the door opens as a customer enters and the accompanying bell rings, say, “Someone just came in,” as if your co-workers are deaf. Then, look at the customer and say, “Someone will be right with you.” (This one is funny, because, for some reason, even though you won’t be in uniform, your co-workers will see you as another person able to help out. When, really, you’re not going to do a damn thing. Subconsciously, they know you aren’t really going to help, and telling them that a customer just arrived is like adding a second bell to the one that’s already annoying by itself.)
5) Go into the break room and help eat the snacks that one of them brought. This is funny because you will undoubtedly hear things like, “Did you pay for that?” and “Must be nice.” The best response for statements of this kind is a smile and a nod. Mainly, because your mouth will be full of their delicious treats, and it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.

After a while (2 hours to be exact) you’ll probably start to get bored. As I did. But, lucky for me, my step-brother, Bryan, (16 years old) had just pulled up on his bike. So, I went outside to talk to him. And we took a walk to ACRAT.

Acrat is CD store that doubles as a ”tobacco-use-only” paraphernalia stockpile. We weren’t in the store for a minute before Bryan was looking at the bongs. His eyes glazed over like a junky.
“What the hell do you want a bong for?” I asked.
“They just got a bunch of them. Look at ‘em all,” he said, walking past me and into the back area of the store.
Now, the store clerk (we’ll call him, “Reggae Tim”) was sporting his dumb Ganja, Rastafarian, hide-your-ratty-dreadlocks hat and standing by the bongs, bowls, incense and petuli oil (sp?) And, right above him was a sign that says, “For non-tobacco-herbal blends only.”
So, I turned my head to the CD’s, and just as I was picking up the new Queensryche album, I heard Reggae Tim say, “You gotta leave the store” to Bryan.
So I said to the clerk, assuming that it had something to do with Bryan’s age:
“Reggae Tim, what happened? He’s gotta leave?”
“He just asked a dumb-ass question.”
I looked a Bryan. “What did you ask?”
“I asked if they sold pot.”
“Great,” I said, and I looked at Reggae Tim, “You idiot.”
Alright, I didn’t say that. We just left. Once outside, I said to Bryan:
“Did you see the sign?”
“No.”
“They’re allowed to sell that crap because of the sign that says it’s not for pot. Even though everyone knows it’s for pot.”
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s like…” I was lost for a moment. Not being a pot smoker (never even tried it), I was kinda lost at how to explain the situation without feeling like I was defending something I thought was retarded. But, then I figured it out. “It’s like, as long as nobody says it out-loud, they can’t get in trouble. You, my friend, said it out-loud.”
“That’s stupid,” Bryan said.
“Yeah, well… I don’t make this shit up. That guys a moron, anyway. He’s blazed down so many doobie-smaks that his brain is completely gone.”
“He did what?”
“Eh, I dunno. Go home.”