Last week, my boss came
down with a very sore foot, to the point of
limping around and being even less
productive than usual. His doctor diagnosed
him with gout, and put him on anti-imflammatory
drugs. While this has eased his foot problem
somewhat, it had an unwanted side effect:
the runs.
(I will now pause respectfully for the 75
people that left this thread in disgust.)
Beginning with Monday, his usual single
daily bathroom bombing has proliferated into
4-5 absolutely horrid, rancid chemical
warfare attacks. He has even used the Lysol
that I purchased and left in the bathroom
(he finally got the hint), but to no avail.
At best, the Lysol simply combined with the
otherworldly aroma, creating an even worse
(and more flammable) olfactory effect, that
may have caused permanent brain damage to
yours truly.
Yesterday, around noon, with 2 nauseating
bowel explosions already in the books, an
SUV pulled up, and my heart sank. This was
going to be a stuck-up snot. I knew, because
she parked right in front of the door,
despite having 5 open spaces in the parking
lot. My suspicion was confirmed when Miss
Snot opened the door, and immediately
shouted "HELLO!", apparently offended that
someone wasn't there to hold the door open
or perform courtesy cunnilingus on her. As I
begrudgingly went to the front to help her,
my boss quickly got up, muttered "hoo boy",
and waddled to the bathroom. Yes, my day was
going just swimmingly!
The lady immediately started complaining
about her vacuum, calling it the "worst
piece of garbage I've ever owned". Of
course, Miss Snot never actually touches the
vacuum herself, unless her Guatemalan
cleaning lady, Gisele, brings it to her and
says "no work". But hey, it's all my fault,
I guess! As Miss Snot droned on and on, I
heard several grunts coming from the
bathroom. Wonderbars. Now, not only do I
have to deal with Miss Snot, the the
horrific odor is going to permeate
throughout the entire...
...store...
OOOOOOOOOHHHHH!!!!
A buzzing, flickering 10-watt bulb appeared
over my brain-damaged head. In an instant,
my mood lightened. My eyebrows furrowed
down, making my eyes nearly close into
sinister slits. An evil grin appeared on my
face. My hands came together into a praying
position, rubbing together with with
anticipation over my evil plot. But, I had
to play this cool, so I immediately ended my
Montgomery Burns imitation, and set my plan
into motion.
Miss Snot wants to barge into my store, and
give me mindless grief? FIIIIINE. I will
give her top-notch service, making her
experience every aspect of my store. EVERY
aspect. Oh, she was going to suffer.
At this point, my boss had finished his
lavatorial destruction, and emerged from the
hapless bathroom. I wanted to get a good
circulation going to the front of the store,
so I went to the back, on the pretense of
getting a screwdriver, even though we keep
one under the front counter. As my boss
waddled past me, it hit me. JESUS. The smell
was so vile, so rancid, it actually ripped a
hole in the fabric of space and time. A
swirling accretion disc formed around the
event horizon of what was once our work
bathroom. So far, my plan was going
perfectly.
I came back to the front, then made an
excuse to go back again, just to make sure I
had set up the putrid airflow sufficiently.
As I worked on her machine, slowly, Miss
Snot's expression changed. What was once a
bitchy glare had disappeared. Now, a look of
angst was apparent. She began to squirm
around, and look around with passive
franticness. Oh, but she couldn't leave! Not
while I was giving her exemplary service!
Five minutes later, I pulled out a hair
scrunchie from her vacuum, that had been the
cause of her problem. Ordinarily, this would
have taken about 15 seconds. But I wasn't
done yet. Leaving her vacuum opened on the
counter, to prevent a hasty evacuation, I
began to show her some of our fine cleaning
products. Despite the fact that the AC was
blasting, she was beginning to sweat. She
was no longer complaining; at this point,
she was probably more concerned about
leaving the store before going into a full
seizure.
When I thought Miss Snot had suffered
enough, I put her vacuum back together. She
dry-heaved out a quick thank-you, and
practically ran out the door. With a
satisfied smirk, I walked into the back.
Passing my boss, I said with a smile,
"Thanks, Rich!". He gave me a puzzled look,
then went back to surfing porn, passing time
until the next cataclysmic bowel movement.
It just warmed my heart, being able to give
such thorough, in-depth, lengthy
service to such a nice, sweet person like
Miss Snot. Teehee.