Friday, November 20, 2009


So, I'm like, in Costco to check up on my application and their seasonal employment. I'm standing there, looking damn fine, chatting with the clerk who is wilting under my powers. Yeah, that's right.

Without warning this contessa on my right suddenly looks at me and says, "Jason!" and goes for the hug. I'm surprised, so I fake her with a left and let the bottle of Johnnie Walker in my right do the rest.

I catch myself mid-swing. Hey, I know this doll. Way back time, like the 60s, man. Yeah, all that fly dope, and stuff. We chat warmly. I compliment her on her memory and turn back to the wilting clerk, so obviously wishing that her boyfriend was damn fine like me. But the dame isn't done yet. She says, "You're just unforgettable, J."

Yeah, that's right.

I decide the clerk is reaching toxic levels of exposure to awesomeness, and I hit the parking lot. Light rain. Kinda like that mushy drizzle on the day you realised Santa wasn't real. I'm halfway to my car, parked on the far side.

I've never known why people insist on nearly parking inside the building. They clog up the lot, and their reward for circling three times? A ding in their door, a crack in their fender, may be even a rolling cart to the side panel. I prefer walking.

I pause for a second. There's some kind of sound. Almost, but not quite entirely unlike my name being called. Years of training kick in, and I turn around. There's the clerk, running me down in the mushy drizzle. Damn, I'm fine. She's carrying a pen and paper. Paper's probably a subterfuge for the pen, a stabbing instrument, since she can't have me.

Yeah, I just said that.

Turns out the fella helping my long-lost, well-brained friend happens to be a manager. Saw the whole exchange. Sent the clerk out running to catch opportunity before it drove away.

Well, she took my particulars and asked a few questions. Writing all the time. But it never occurred to me until just now that she was likely burning out there to get my phone number. Had to make up some excuse to keep from babbling like an idiot in front of me, so she kicked into office-speak. Happens all the time. Pity. Makes it hard to get work.

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