May 19, 2005
Today is Thursday. It's raining. It's been raining for the better part of the day. By 'better,' I mean the part where one would normally see some traffic on the sales floor of the shop but since it's fucking pouring outside, no one wants to wrestle with the massive amounts of morons which occupy the roads with balding tires that are just asking for a hydroplaning, 360 degree, total collision of 'hey, I don't have any insurance, or a license for that matter since I've been caught drunk driving three times in the past month, but how's about a drink on me?'There's that and there's also the guy who would surely melt on his way to the front doors of the shop if he dared to brave such horrendous conditions.
Pussies.
Don't these people know that they could get a better deal in this kind of weather? Don't people realize by now that we sales people are just sitting around with our tire gauges up our asses, telling our best Saturday night hot tub stories and waiting for a sale? It's so dead in the shop on a day like this that I sometimes wish it were like the old days.
Ahhhh, the old days...
We'd wait for the boss, who would have been so frickin' ready to leave during the first three straight hours of rain, to hit the road and then we would all make our way, one by one, down to the warehouse where the new bikes are stored. There we would indulge in a multitude of alcoholic beverages ranging from Miller Light to Captain and Cokes, smoke some happiness into our hearts and shoot bottle rockets out into the busy two lane, one way street in front of the garage. The person with the least hits to a passing vehicle would have to buy more beer.
Sure, it was irresponsible, crude and dangerous, but at least we were occupied. And it was better than riding wheelies up and down the sidewalk on a service customer's dual sport bike...
Now, with the new management, all we have are the ridiculous bouts of self proclaimed entertainment associated with every day of the week.
Unfortunately, save for the buckets of water seeping into the storage area of the Part Department, Thursday is the shop's "Day of Rest."
You see, every day of the week carries a special moniker which I have carefully implemented in order to create of sense of meaning for the days when we have nothing better in the world to do (i.e. we can't sell SHIT). Somehow, it worked out that each of the days with a specific name associated to it allow for me to either kick, punch, karate chop or otherwise mangle one of my co-workers. It's really great fun. I pass on this highly sensational bit of entertainment onto you only because you are my dear friends and surely find yourselves equally as bored as I often find myself at work.
Plus it's just plain fun to inflict massive amounts of excruciating pain onto innocent bystanders...
Anyhow, our calendar works something like this - we have:
Marshal Arts Monday
Taekwondo Tuesday
Wang Chung Wednesday
Kung Fu Friday
Samurai Saturday
So now you understand our dilemma with Thursdays. There aren't too many TH words that will satisfactorily meet the demands of a truly hostile working environment and thus we have dubbed this day a Day of Rest.
We thought about Super Thugs Thursday, Thrasher Crasher Thursday and Thong Thong Thong Thong Thong Thursday, yet each of these suggestions involved some sort of serious stunt or partial nudity and nobody wanted to see me covered in road rash or Dan in his string bikinis...
The best we could come up with was 'Thirsty Thursday' but since we have been severally cautioned against the above mentioned activities, we are at a loss. It's rather sad, really, considering that we, all of us, happen to excel in our abilities to down several drinks within a short period of time and then haggle with the few fence straddling customers willing to brave the weather and our intoxicating exhales.
But, alas, today is Thursday. It's raining and it's foggy and my boss threw out my cross word puzzle and I haven't sold a flippin' thing all day.
The only sound of solace lies in the knowledge that tomorrow is Kung Fu Friday and therefore I shall be obligated to kick the living shit of out our little newbie in Parts.
See ya tomorrow, Erich...