Wednesday, July 20, 2011

My 20 Minute Long Job

The other week, I was with Boyfriend in Astoria at our favorite bar in Queens. It was Sunday night at around 11 and we expected to eat food at this bar but the bartender informed us the kitchen had just closed. Because he is also from Upstate NY, and thus loves us, he allowed us to bring food from outside and eat it in the bar.

As I was already one sheet into the wind, I volunteered to venture out, as long as Boyfriend paid...but NOTHING was open except the bodegas. I finally picked the one that looked the most appealing and went in and ordered a couple of sandwiches. He, an attractive Hispanic with green eyes, slowly went to work. Very slowly. It was like someone told him when he finished making these sandwiches, he would be ass-raped so he was doing everything he could to delay his fate.

A few minutes into the snail sandwiching, a man came in with his children and asked how much a quarter of a watermelon was. "Don't worry mang, you pay me tomorrow," Sexy Slug replied. His response seemed to fall on deaf ears as the father kept standing there, awkwardly holding the melon.

I knew it was my duty to jump in. "You want me to take care of this for you? Yeah? No? Well, I'm just gonna go handle this." I sauntered over to the man and looked at the melon which clearly had $3.90 stamped on it. I took his five and then reached into my own purse and gave him a dollar back. "No, ten cents," he said, looking confused. "Oh...oh! Here we go!" I replied, reaching down to pick up a dime I found on the ground, handing it to him with the dollar and a gigantic smile. One of us left the transaction happily and the other gathered their children and left nervously perplexed.

I resumed my roost in front of the deli counter and assured the Slug I had assisted the customer successfully, and he just smiled at me. My work wasn't complete yet since Sexy Slug had just finished slicing the meat and the customers were coming in by the twosomes. One woman came in and bought a couple of mozarella sticks and a Dasani ("Uh, yes... let's see here. Dasani is $1.00 and the mozz is....50 cents a piece. So $2 please") and we chatted about her life for a few seconds while she got my money out. I placed it neatly behind the counter and started on the next customer.

"Alright, two Foster's cans? Let's see...that's $5. Here, you get a free SlimJim for every two tall boys you buy. Thanks! Come again!"

Three customers in, all the money was stacked behind the counter, because I wasn't going to attempt the register, and Sexy Slug was still plugging away at the sandwiches. I returned to my previous perch when another, lighter skinned, Hispanic walked in. I felt his eyes on my as he approached but I was not expecting him to slide his hand down my ass and into my crotch. Yes, he did indeed pull a REACH-UNDER!

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY STORE YOU PERV!" I shouted, as I started shoving him with all my might. "DID YOU HEAR ME? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SHOP AND DON'T BOTHER SHOWING YOUR FACE HERE AGAIN!"

The guy just kept yelling that he didn't do anything but Slug finally looked up from his craft and asked me what happened. I explained that he grabbed my beav and he became enraged too and told the guy to get out. After that, Slug brought his sandwich making game up and the sandwiches were soon finished. He thanked me for everything I did and only charged me $10 for the pair, even though they were both $6.50 sandwiches.

If you noticed earlier, I also inadvertently pocketed $3.90 from the bodega through the watermelon exchange so I figure that they paid me 3.90 for my 20 minutes of work there, which is around 11.70/hr. Not bad for a bodega, I reckon!

I did not, however, claim this on my unemployment so hopefully the government doesn't find out.

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