Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Losing My Appetite

Ok, I know that people that are mentally ill or have had nervous breakdowns often don't look at things the way the rest of the world does, but this is getting to be ridiculous. We have a customer (you may have heard me complain about him before) who just plain STINKS. We actually refer to him as Stinky (not to his face). We really can't describe his scent, it's just foul. It's like sweaty bizalls that haven't been washed in YEARS. It's like what you imagine the smell to be like when you think of the little booths at the freaky deaky store where you put a quarter in and men get to watch a few minutes of a flick, and you know they sitting there pulling on they stuff and letting it splat on the ground, and you know ain't nobody going back there and cleaning up all that splat - that's what he smells like. Not that I've ever been in a Splat Room, but that's just what you imagine it smells like. When he walks into the branch, the whole place starts to stink. He's sitting by the door, and I can smell him at my desk, which is about as far as Jewels' kitchen from her front door…now you know that's bad!

My thing is, when you stink that bad, YOU KNOW YOU STINK! GET YO FUNKY AZZ IN THE TUB AND SCRUB! Stankin' azz pink toe!

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