I posted this fic on the SMRFF egroups list, hence it has several "in"
jokes and some abbreviations.
ML = Mailing List
WAFF = warm and fuzzy feeling
Usa-day = Usagi's bday! I wrote this fic in commemoration
Greetings minna! I found out about Usa-day they other day and realized.
.. golly, I don't have anything to write... And then I remembered that
idea that I had sent to Meredith and said... golly, I can do that.
And so here it is... TLP's first venture into the realm of Usa-day and
comedic fanfiction.
So sit back, listen to the deep, sexy voice of Darien as he unravels
the mysteries of really what goes on inside a grocery store. Open yours
elf a package of WAFFers and start to munch, and I hope it doesn't get
to sweet for you...
Orange Sunkist and Peanut M&Ms: A WAFFy fic of first love
PG
Comedy, Alternate Reality
The Lone Pig
thelonepig@hotmail.com
Salutations to you, listener. My name is Darien and I work at a local
grocery store as what one would call a 'courtesy clerk'. Oy... yea, I
hear you "Isn't that the same thing as a bagger?" Yes, well technically
it is but look at the negative connotations found in the word bagger.
First, the word does not roll off your tongue, it's more of a spat,
like trying to spit out a bad M&M... And second, just think of the
word... "bagger." What is the first thing that comes to your mind?
Someone who "bags things." Well, that's not the only thing we do, I'll
have you know... who else would sweep the floors, clean the bathrooms,
empty the garbage, and make fun of you behind your back? Did I say
that last one out loud? Oops... silly me. But it's true. Next time
you walk into a grocery store, try to look at everything through the
eyes of an employee. No offense, but you customers sure are baka.
Recently I was offered a position in the as-of-yet unexisting day-time
freight crew. We were to be a "team, through whose forces combined,
kept the store in tip-top peachy-keen shape and constantly looking good.
" I hate the store owner's son. He's that guy that smiles at his
customers and curses at his employees. "New is the only good.
Everything must be new and we must appeal to *waves fingers as per
parentheses* generation X." Nobody likes him, but everybody has to
tolerate him. He'd be kinda like David Duchovny, if Mr. Duchovny
weren't so good looking.
Ah... but I digress. Why is it exactly that you customers are baka?
Well, to begin with, your driving is atrocious. You know what those
yellow lines in the parking lot are for, don't you? And what's with
the braking for customers, gassing for employees thing? You realize
I've been hit three times? And you know what happens every time? The
owners' stupid son asks me if I'm alright and tells me that I can't sue
them, due to some oddball clause in my contract that he can quote word
for word. And then he sends me back to work, bruised, beaten, and
broken. There's another one of my pet peeves... how is it that you can
look at an employee who is trying his hardest to even smile through
the obvious pain he is enduring from the six inch gash in his side,
and politely ask "How are you today?" IT'S DARN TOOTIN' OBVIOUS HOW
I'M DOING, I'M FREAKING IN A LOT OF PAIN! But that's beside the point,
you probably want to know something interesting, right. I mean, after
all, I wasn't invited here by my good friend TLP to rant and rave about
customer antics or anything. Well, let's see, you are all rabid fans
of Sailor Moon romance. I know! I'll tell you about how I first met
Serena, that ought to keep you happy... or at least somewhat preoccupied
from trying to rip off my pants...
It all started two months ago today...
You must first know a few things about me though. I was really
popular as a kid. Elementary school was great, and I even got along
with the kids in Junior High. The entire school knew me on a first-
name basis. But then tragedy struck, and my parents were killed in a
car accident. It wasn't their fault, they were broadsided by a man
who had been drinking heavily. I disappeared from school for two weeks,
and turned in to my own emotions, not speaking nor listening to any
of those around me. I lost many friendships that way, but they could
not understand what I was going through. When I finally did return to
school, I was deemed as the reclusive one. Treated as a hermit and an
outcast, I found myself eating alone. My grades slumped because my
self-image had fallen.
High school turned out much the same way. My Sophomore year I was
ostracized by everyone. But when signing up for my Junior year, I
stumbled across something that changed my life forever. I was required
to take a class during my fifth hour block, but couldn't find one that
I wanted to take. It was a toss-up between a plethora of physical
education "mini-hells" and classes I had already taken. I was standing
in line for "Fitness for Life: Bowling for Credit", when a brightly
painted sign caught my eye. It said, "Technical Theatre, now for
course credit. Sign up now!"
Well, anything had to be better than physical education, ne? I left
my place near the front of the crowded line I was occupying, and
waltzed past a hundred people to the vacant table. I slid my add
sheet to the man behind the desk, who looked at me with an odd look
on his face. "Young man," he said to me, "the line for physical
education is over there." He gestured to the line I had just vacated...
"No sir," I replied. "I saw your sign." I pointed to the mutli-
colored poster.
The man changed instantly. He signed me up on the spot, and I walked
away happy, forgetting about my school schedule the moment I left the
crowded gymnasium. I didn't think once about that class all summer
long. And then came the first day of school. I received my class
schedule and looked it over. Pre-Calculus... Junior Honors English...
History of Democracy... An Introduction to Basket-Weaving (what?)...
Set Design...
Set Design? What the heck was that? I had no idea what I was in for...
but that is another story entirely, now isn't it. I know many of you
SMRFFers are or once were in set design, and I'd be more than happy to
share my stories with you at a later time.
Working there in the technical theatre class, painting sets and
hectically guiding actors like the lost sheep that they are, I
discovered something. I had quite a sense of humor. That, and I'm
incredibly attractive and girls love me...
But from that time on, I decided I'd be a friend to everyone and not
care about my situations. After all, if I couldn't make fun of myself,
how was I ever to allow myself to make fun of the actors as much as I
did. Well, without feeling guilty, that is.
It was nearing the end of my Junior year when I finally received a
call from a local supermarket offering me a job. I greatfully accepted
it, having been on a job hunt for over two months. And that is how I
came to work in a grocery store. I dare say, if it weren't for the
fact that I began working there, then I wouldn't have met Serena, and
wouldn't be talking to any of you here today...
*winks at ML, who has been enthralled not by the story, but by Darien's
looks the entire time*
*ML faints*
And now that you know where my attitude in life comes from, I suppose
I can continue on with the story.
I absolutely hate taking customers out to their cars. Especially the
annoying ones. Often, I try to slip up in some small unnoticable way,
just to upset them when they reach their next destination. A
watermelon on top of their eggs, for instance. Or placing their bread
underneath a large bag of rock salt. Occasionally, I will even loosen
the lid on their milk slightly, allowing it to leak all over their
trunk. I realize it is wrong of me to do these things, but it's my
own silent protest. They get home and say, "golly, that guy didn't
take very good care of my groceries. I must have been really rude to
have deserved such treatment." Actually, that's a blatant lie... a
real customer would not even bother opening his or her trunk to even
retrieve the groceries, before calling my management and complaining
as to how their eggs were crushed, their bread flat, or their milk
leaking... Some people just don't understand.
It was on a sunny day nearly two months ago that I was busy bussing a
customer out to her car. Technically, I was supposed to be working in
the back room, but the management had once again managed not to
schedule enough employees for the day. I squinted at the bright sun
as I walked out of the store, pushing a full cart before me. As
expected, traffic stopped for the woman in front of me, and began
again the moment I stepped in front of it.
With a deftness that matched Danny Kaye's sense of humor, I dodged the
ferocious traffic and jogged to catch up to the customer before me. I
was plotting what I would do to this customer, when a gal walked past.
Her hair was done up in twin odango, and cascaded down into two of the
longest pigtails I had ever seen. I whistled a cat-call as she walked
past, and she turned her nose up in the air in a snotty little pout.
And then a funny thing happened. I was just placing a six-pack of
Sunkist pop into the customer's trunk when one of the cans mysteriously
sprung a leak, shooting inside the trunk with a ferocity matched only
by David Duchovny's addiction for pornography.
I panicked and flipped the cans around, aiming the orange, carbonated
spray away from myself and the car's upholstery. In turning the spray
around, it just so happened that I managed to hit the girl that I had
just cat-called. I grimaced first, then grinned wickedly as she shot
me the "Look."
Her clean white blouse and blue jeans were now doused in a sticky,
orange mess. I couldn't help but laugh. She looked feriously at me,
but wasn't going to allow herself to be defeated and continued for the
store in a huff.
The soda had run out of power, and I quickly deposited into the
customer's car, and shut the trunk. I flipped the cart around and
rode it back to the store, nearly colliding with several cars in the
way. Didn't they realize that I had right-of-way?
I walked back into the store and threw the cart across the foyer,
where it slid right into place at the beginning of one of the rows. I
turned and walked into the store, or at least that was my intention.
A large, heavy object blocked my way. I looked up, directly into my
manager's frowning face.
"Darien," he told me sternly. "We need to talk."
He grabbed my arm and led me quickly into the manager's office. I
waved to the front-end manager and all of the checkers as I was hauled
bodily across the store front. This had to be embarrasing to my
manager, but oh well... he brought it on himself, ne?
The smile on my face disappeared the minute I stepped into the office.
Standing there was a very perturbed, very orange, odangoed female. I
gulped hard. Something told me this day had just taken a bad turn.
A few hours later, I found myself out back, scrubbing the cement
underneath the trash compactor...
*ML sighs at the thought of Darien, stooping to such a level as
washing garbage from cement...*
It took me a good four showers to get the smell out...
*ML drools at the thought of Darien in the shower*
And it was at that time that I realized something very important. I
had never liked work before, which would explain my rude behaviour.
But having been demoted to such a level as to scrub garbage from
someplace that it's supposed to be truly upset me about my job... And
that got me thinking.
I enjoy walking in the rain. I don't know where I picked that up from,
perhaps it was from when my parents died. The rain always makes me
think, and masks my own tears. But when I walk, alone, down the
abandoned streets in the middle of a storm, I can think with a clear
mind and not bother with the events around me.
But it was on that particular night, in that particular rain, that I
realized something. I didn't care about my job in the slightest!
Watch them fire me! See if I care! My eyes began to narrow, and I
swear if anyone had been looking at me at that time, they would have
seen a faint red glow in them, very reminiscent of what one would call
a "bat out of hell."
And you know, from that day to this, I don't think I've ever done
anything at that store by the rules. A few months ago, when this new
manager came in, a lot of things changed. To begin with, we are now
required to address the customers over the PA system before we say whate
ver important thing it is that we need to say. Generally, a very
depressed voice will sound over the system and mumble something
incoherent like "Attention shoppers, thank you for shopping with us
today," followed by whatever it was that they needed.
Well, I took it on myself to liven these announcements up. In the
process, I discovered a very strange thing... I couldn't be fired!
"Hoi, Darien! Call Humperdinck to the back, would ya?" Humperdinck
is the name we use to make fun of the manager. "Sure," I yell back,
grinning wickedly and running over to the phone. The first time I
ever cracked out the PA system, I got a few snickers. And a LOT of
good commentary from other employees. It seems that I could do
something none of them had the guts to do...
The PA system crackled loudly as I spoke into the receiver on that day...
"Attention shoppers. We appreciate you shopping with us today. If
you weren't shopping with us, then you'd be somewhere else. We
appreciate the fact that you have chosen to shop here. Without your
continued support through the years, we would not be able to exist in
the facet that we do now. If there's anything at all we can do to
make your shopping experience better, please: don't hesitate to ask
our manager Humper... er... Robert Bischoff, he'd be glad to help.
If you'd prefer to be anonymous in your commentary of our store, feel
free to fill out one of the forms at our service desk. Thank you for
shopping with us today... and remember, if it wasn't for your money,
we wouldn't be here. Humperdi... er... Robert, would you come to the
back please? Robert, to the back room."
From that day onward, the moment that PA system crackled, employees all
over the store would stop to listen in hopes it was another one of my
tongue-in-cheek ads. Golly, I'd never felt so welcomed in my life.
Several weeks later, I met that girl again. I was sitting in the back,
playing around when I should have been working and generally making a
fool of myself, when my manager's voice crackled over the speakers.
"Attention shoppers, thank you for shopping with us today." The man
has no sense of style... "Darien, come to the service desk, Darien, to
the service desk." I shouted back obtrusively at the speaker system.
"NO!" However, after a few minutes, I decided that I had nothing
better to do and meandered up to the front counter. I whistled the
theme to Robin Hood -- you know, the one from the old Disney cartoon
about the fox -- and strolled up an aisle, both hands behind my head,
and my arms outstretched. I spotted my manager behind the service
desk and walked out in front of several customers, nearly getting
myself run over in the process. When would those customers ever learn?
They should watch where they are walking.
I made it up to the manager and coughed my presence. He turned around
and smiled. That meant he wanted something and didn't think I'd do it.
I eyed him warily and said nothing. He cleared his throat and stepped
aside, revealing a blond, odangoed female. The smile on her face fell
the moment she saw me. "Darien," said my manager, unoblivious to the
whole situation before him. The man is as dense as Leonardo Dicaprio
is shallow. "This is Serena, she starts work today. Will you give her
a quick tour of the store?"
"What? I'm going to be shown around by him?" Her face moved into a
pout and she crossed her arms.
I couldn't contain myself further. "Odango Atama!" And then to my
manager. "I refuse." But my manager gave me that look that only
managers can give. That look that says you're hanging by a thread...
kinda like Drew Barrymore's career after E.T. And I found myself
giving a tour of the back room to the same girl I sprayed with a leaky
can of Sunkist not one week previous.
I don't remember being overly upset after work that day, but my
roommate Andrew says that for the next week it was impossible to live
around me. But in any case, Andrew and his girlfriend Mina noticed my
sulken behaviour and took it upon themselves to get me out of the
house. They started bringing over some of the oddest girls. They were
all bubbly, and most of them couldn't even walk straight. There was
one gal, I swear that she hit anybody she walked past, her hips swayed
back and forth so much... but I have never been one for being set up
and made it my priority to be on my absolute worst behaviour in front
of each girl. Once again, I could go off forever on the different
things that I did in each circumstance, but I just don't have the time.
I'd be glad to tell any of you lovely ladies later though...
And that uncovers yet another one of my petpeeves. I happen to have a
fairly close-knit group of friends that I can be around. They aren't
exactly the kind of people I can really talk to or depend on, but it's
just fun on occasion to get out and do things. Well, most of them had
recently found girlfriends. I hadn't yet. Obviously, I felt a little
left out. My friends noticed that and tried their best to still
include me in their activities.
But you know, I just don't like being the "third wheel," so to speak.
For some odd reason, there always seems to be some disaster or another
that occurs from my being along. Last weekend, for example, I was
invited along as the... let's see... ninth wheel. Basically, I was
without a date on a four-couple date. We went to go see the new
Mission Impossible flick. Unfortunately, that involved a thirty-minute
drive to the nearest decent theatre.
Well, the ride there I was pretty much ignored. I wish I could say
the same thing about the ride back, but other things decided to happen.
Basically, the movie finished and I sat back to listen to the song
playing through the ending credits. It's something my friends and I
always used to do... but apparently nobody decided to tell me that we
didn't anymore. I looked around to find myself the only one in the
theatre. When I ran outside, I only discovered that my friends had
already left.
Do you know how embarrasing it is trying to call neighbors or relatives
at midnight to drive thirty minutes to pick you up because your friends
left you? Needless to say, I haven't done too much with them as of
late... and I probably won't until I find a good girl that I can
settle down with somewhat.
The one time I did find a gal I was interested in asking out turned
out to be an interesting experience. Want to hear?
*ML nods profusely, hoping for some good Serena/Darien WAFF*
I was walking up to the front desk, when this gal walked in. She was
wearing a white blouse and this short plaid, pleated skirt. That's my
weakness, pleats...
*half the ML stands and leaves for a minute, only to return in skirts
of their own. Darien clears his throat, blushes, and begins on the
story again*
So anyway, I decided to *ahem* face the aisles that she just happened
to be walking down. Many of you would call this stalking, but I'll
have you know, I was just protecting my interests. So I faced, and I
watched. And I faced, and I watched. And I faced... and I lost her.
Where had she gone? I meandered into the backroom to sulk, and
happened to run into my roommate Andrew on the way. He was reading
magazines with his girlfriend Mina.
"Hey Darien," he greeted.
"Oh, hey Andrew, what are you up to?" I replied, taking the opportunity
to avoid work all the longer.
"Not much, just reading magazines. Have you seen the reviews for the
new Resident Evil game? It looks soooooo cool."
We made idle chit-chat about video games and upcoming anime when she
walked by. Her hips waggled back and forth, and her skirt swayed in
unison. It was truly a site to behold. I told Andrew that I had been
following her and wouldn't mind asking her out... he replied by giving
Mina a playful kick.
"Isn't that your cousin? You should introduce them..."
"Introduce? But Andrew, she's only fourteen..."
I felt more like a pedaphile at that time than I had ever before...
*ML laughs at Darien's torture. It is several minutes before they
settle down enough to begin once again to pay attention to Darien's
story.*
... and there I was facing the aisle filled with "those", face bright
red, and feeling like a complete fool, when a rather large, imposing-
looking woman turned her cart and began walking towards me. "Young man,
what are you doing here?" she said to me. "Uh... nothing, ma'am?"
"Hmm..." she muttered under her breath. "Little pervert..." I haven't
been on that aisle since...
The other problem I have at work is with clean-up. Do you know what
the worst things are to clean up? Molasses, oil, and "those"...
please, just don't ask any questions about that last. I still recall
that incident in my nightmares... Well, I was sitting in the back,
working as hard as I usually do, when I get the obligatory call of
"Darien, clean up on aisle two." Aisle two? Aisle two has notepaper,
school supplies, cards, and candy... what in the world could provide
for a clean up? I suppose I had thought too soon. I turned onto aisle
two, armed with a broom and a dustpan.
The floor was literally covered in M&Ms. I had trouble seeing any of
the white tile beneath the blue, brown, green, orange, red, and yellow
candy-colored shells... that day, M&Ms just took an entirely different
taste. I decided I would never eat another peanut M&M in my life.
Standing in the direct center, holding a once-filled case of peanut
M&Ms was the new girl, Serena. "Don't move!" I said, wincing at the
thought of having crushed M&Ms to pick up. She wailed back.
"I'm sorry! It was slow up front and I just wanted to help... the
bottom of the box broke open and the bags all split open when they hit
the floor! Gomen ne..."
"Gomen ne?" I said back questioningly.
"Yea," she replied. "It's Japanese for..."
"...I'm sorry." We finished in unison.
"You know Japanese too?" she asked smiling.
"Hai..." I stuttered back in amazement. I flushed for a moment when I
realized that I was staring at her with my jaw hanging open. Then I
quickly began to sweep all of the M&Ms into one pile. Serena ducked
down and did her best to scoop what she could into the box she had been
holding. It took a few minutes to get everything together and picked
up, and I discarded the broom in favor of picking up the stragglers by
hand. Serena was helping as well.
The M&Ms quickly disappeared. Brown, I grabbed it. Blue, hers.
Yellow, mine. Green, hers. Red, mine... and hers. Our hands
overlapped on the candy-shelled, chocolate covered peanut that melts
in your mouth, not in your hand. I looked at her, and she at me. I
lost myself for a moment in her deep blue eyes. She stared right back
into my eyes. And then she pulled her hand away and blushed. I
hesitated a moment before picking up the last M&M and deposited it in
the box.
I picked up the box. "I'll go throw this in the garbage," I announced
hesitantly. She nodded, her face still a little red. I turned to
leave... and the bottom of the box fell out again. M&Ms fell in a
waterfall and once again covered the floor. I sighed. Serena laughed.
And after that day, work became an awful lot more enjoyable. Serena
came back and chatted with me on occasion. We ate lunch together.
She made me smile, and I was truly happy for the first time since
before my parents' death.
We began to date, which several of my coworkers found to be quite
strange. They had been convinced that I... well, I... *ahem, blushes*
leaned that way. Let me explain. I was in the backroom having an
interesting discussion with my cohorts from the freight crew, when one
of them accused me of actually liking men!
"What?" I contended. "I most certainly do not!"
"Prove it," he replied.
"Alright, fine." I thought for a moment. "Make an advance towards me...
I'll reject you. Will that be enough?"
"It's a start." Then, in as best a sultry voice as he could mimic,
"Hey there, cute thing. I love you..."
I shrugged and grinned. "Ah, what the heck... I love you too man!"
I embraced my coworker in a bear hug.
And they've been wondering ever since.
But anyway, back to the reason I'm here... I met Serena, and I'm sure
you can guess the rest. One month after we had been dating, I decided
to get her something to celebrate our new-found relationship. But
wouldn't you know it, she got me something too -- a family-size bag of
peanut M&Ms. I gave her a six pack of Sunkist Orange Soda.
She pulled off a can of the soda and shook it up, then pointed it at
me and pulled the top. The warm orange soda found its mark as I found
myself drenched from head to foot in the sticky substance. I tore into
the bag of M&Ms and began throwing them at her. Pretty quick, it
turned into our own rendition of World War III.
I failed to mention that we exchanged gifts in the store as well...
needless to say, we found ourselves both sitting in the manager's
office. I was slightly more uncomfortable...
The next day I looked over at the remaining M&Ms I had. I popped in a
couple of peanut M&Ms and smiled. They were sweet. Maybe I could
learn to enjoy eating these things again...
jokes and some abbreviations.
ML = Mailing List
WAFF = warm and fuzzy feeling
Usa-day = Usagi's bday! I wrote this fic in commemoration
Greetings minna! I found out about Usa-day they other day and realized.
.. golly, I don't have anything to write... And then I remembered that
idea that I had sent to Meredith and said... golly, I can do that.
And so here it is... TLP's first venture into the realm of Usa-day and
comedic fanfiction.
So sit back, listen to the deep, sexy voice of Darien as he unravels
the mysteries of really what goes on inside a grocery store. Open yours
elf a package of WAFFers and start to munch, and I hope it doesn't get
to sweet for you...
Orange Sunkist and Peanut M&Ms: A WAFFy fic of first love
PG
Comedy, Alternate Reality
The Lone Pig
thelonepig@hotmail.com
Salutations to you, listener. My name is Darien and I work at a local
grocery store as what one would call a 'courtesy clerk'. Oy... yea, I
hear you "Isn't that the same thing as a bagger?" Yes, well technically
it is but look at the negative connotations found in the word bagger.
First, the word does not roll off your tongue, it's more of a spat,
like trying to spit out a bad M&M... And second, just think of the
word... "bagger." What is the first thing that comes to your mind?
Someone who "bags things." Well, that's not the only thing we do, I'll
have you know... who else would sweep the floors, clean the bathrooms,
empty the garbage, and make fun of you behind your back? Did I say
that last one out loud? Oops... silly me. But it's true. Next time
you walk into a grocery store, try to look at everything through the
eyes of an employee. No offense, but you customers sure are baka.
Recently I was offered a position in the as-of-yet unexisting day-time
freight crew. We were to be a "team, through whose forces combined,
kept the store in tip-top peachy-keen shape and constantly looking good.
" I hate the store owner's son. He's that guy that smiles at his
customers and curses at his employees. "New is the only good.
Everything must be new and we must appeal to *waves fingers as per
parentheses* generation X." Nobody likes him, but everybody has to
tolerate him. He'd be kinda like David Duchovny, if Mr. Duchovny
weren't so good looking.
Ah... but I digress. Why is it exactly that you customers are baka?
Well, to begin with, your driving is atrocious. You know what those
yellow lines in the parking lot are for, don't you? And what's with
the braking for customers, gassing for employees thing? You realize
I've been hit three times? And you know what happens every time? The
owners' stupid son asks me if I'm alright and tells me that I can't sue
them, due to some oddball clause in my contract that he can quote word
for word. And then he sends me back to work, bruised, beaten, and
broken. There's another one of my pet peeves... how is it that you can
look at an employee who is trying his hardest to even smile through
the obvious pain he is enduring from the six inch gash in his side,
and politely ask "How are you today?" IT'S DARN TOOTIN' OBVIOUS HOW
I'M DOING, I'M FREAKING IN A LOT OF PAIN! But that's beside the point,
you probably want to know something interesting, right. I mean, after
all, I wasn't invited here by my good friend TLP to rant and rave about
customer antics or anything. Well, let's see, you are all rabid fans
of Sailor Moon romance. I know! I'll tell you about how I first met
Serena, that ought to keep you happy... or at least somewhat preoccupied
from trying to rip off my pants...
It all started two months ago today...
You must first know a few things about me though. I was really
popular as a kid. Elementary school was great, and I even got along
with the kids in Junior High. The entire school knew me on a first-
name basis. But then tragedy struck, and my parents were killed in a
car accident. It wasn't their fault, they were broadsided by a man
who had been drinking heavily. I disappeared from school for two weeks,
and turned in to my own emotions, not speaking nor listening to any
of those around me. I lost many friendships that way, but they could
not understand what I was going through. When I finally did return to
school, I was deemed as the reclusive one. Treated as a hermit and an
outcast, I found myself eating alone. My grades slumped because my
self-image had fallen.
High school turned out much the same way. My Sophomore year I was
ostracized by everyone. But when signing up for my Junior year, I
stumbled across something that changed my life forever. I was required
to take a class during my fifth hour block, but couldn't find one that
I wanted to take. It was a toss-up between a plethora of physical
education "mini-hells" and classes I had already taken. I was standing
in line for "Fitness for Life: Bowling for Credit", when a brightly
painted sign caught my eye. It said, "Technical Theatre, now for
course credit. Sign up now!"
Well, anything had to be better than physical education, ne? I left
my place near the front of the crowded line I was occupying, and
waltzed past a hundred people to the vacant table. I slid my add
sheet to the man behind the desk, who looked at me with an odd look
on his face. "Young man," he said to me, "the line for physical
education is over there." He gestured to the line I had just vacated...
"No sir," I replied. "I saw your sign." I pointed to the mutli-
colored poster.
The man changed instantly. He signed me up on the spot, and I walked
away happy, forgetting about my school schedule the moment I left the
crowded gymnasium. I didn't think once about that class all summer
long. And then came the first day of school. I received my class
schedule and looked it over. Pre-Calculus... Junior Honors English...
History of Democracy... An Introduction to Basket-Weaving (what?)...
Set Design...
Set Design? What the heck was that? I had no idea what I was in for...
but that is another story entirely, now isn't it. I know many of you
SMRFFers are or once were in set design, and I'd be more than happy to
share my stories with you at a later time.
Working there in the technical theatre class, painting sets and
hectically guiding actors like the lost sheep that they are, I
discovered something. I had quite a sense of humor. That, and I'm
incredibly attractive and girls love me...
But from that time on, I decided I'd be a friend to everyone and not
care about my situations. After all, if I couldn't make fun of myself,
how was I ever to allow myself to make fun of the actors as much as I
did. Well, without feeling guilty, that is.
It was nearing the end of my Junior year when I finally received a
call from a local supermarket offering me a job. I greatfully accepted
it, having been on a job hunt for over two months. And that is how I
came to work in a grocery store. I dare say, if it weren't for the
fact that I began working there, then I wouldn't have met Serena, and
wouldn't be talking to any of you here today...
*winks at ML, who has been enthralled not by the story, but by Darien's
looks the entire time*
*ML faints*
And now that you know where my attitude in life comes from, I suppose
I can continue on with the story.
I absolutely hate taking customers out to their cars. Especially the
annoying ones. Often, I try to slip up in some small unnoticable way,
just to upset them when they reach their next destination. A
watermelon on top of their eggs, for instance. Or placing their bread
underneath a large bag of rock salt. Occasionally, I will even loosen
the lid on their milk slightly, allowing it to leak all over their
trunk. I realize it is wrong of me to do these things, but it's my
own silent protest. They get home and say, "golly, that guy didn't
take very good care of my groceries. I must have been really rude to
have deserved such treatment." Actually, that's a blatant lie... a
real customer would not even bother opening his or her trunk to even
retrieve the groceries, before calling my management and complaining
as to how their eggs were crushed, their bread flat, or their milk
leaking... Some people just don't understand.
It was on a sunny day nearly two months ago that I was busy bussing a
customer out to her car. Technically, I was supposed to be working in
the back room, but the management had once again managed not to
schedule enough employees for the day. I squinted at the bright sun
as I walked out of the store, pushing a full cart before me. As
expected, traffic stopped for the woman in front of me, and began
again the moment I stepped in front of it.
With a deftness that matched Danny Kaye's sense of humor, I dodged the
ferocious traffic and jogged to catch up to the customer before me. I
was plotting what I would do to this customer, when a gal walked past.
Her hair was done up in twin odango, and cascaded down into two of the
longest pigtails I had ever seen. I whistled a cat-call as she walked
past, and she turned her nose up in the air in a snotty little pout.
And then a funny thing happened. I was just placing a six-pack of
Sunkist pop into the customer's trunk when one of the cans mysteriously
sprung a leak, shooting inside the trunk with a ferocity matched only
by David Duchovny's addiction for pornography.
I panicked and flipped the cans around, aiming the orange, carbonated
spray away from myself and the car's upholstery. In turning the spray
around, it just so happened that I managed to hit the girl that I had
just cat-called. I grimaced first, then grinned wickedly as she shot
me the "Look."
Her clean white blouse and blue jeans were now doused in a sticky,
orange mess. I couldn't help but laugh. She looked feriously at me,
but wasn't going to allow herself to be defeated and continued for the
store in a huff.
The soda had run out of power, and I quickly deposited into the
customer's car, and shut the trunk. I flipped the cart around and
rode it back to the store, nearly colliding with several cars in the
way. Didn't they realize that I had right-of-way?
I walked back into the store and threw the cart across the foyer,
where it slid right into place at the beginning of one of the rows. I
turned and walked into the store, or at least that was my intention.
A large, heavy object blocked my way. I looked up, directly into my
manager's frowning face.
"Darien," he told me sternly. "We need to talk."
He grabbed my arm and led me quickly into the manager's office. I
waved to the front-end manager and all of the checkers as I was hauled
bodily across the store front. This had to be embarrasing to my
manager, but oh well... he brought it on himself, ne?
The smile on my face disappeared the minute I stepped into the office.
Standing there was a very perturbed, very orange, odangoed female. I
gulped hard. Something told me this day had just taken a bad turn.
A few hours later, I found myself out back, scrubbing the cement
underneath the trash compactor...
*ML sighs at the thought of Darien, stooping to such a level as
washing garbage from cement...*
It took me a good four showers to get the smell out...
*ML drools at the thought of Darien in the shower*
And it was at that time that I realized something very important. I
had never liked work before, which would explain my rude behaviour.
But having been demoted to such a level as to scrub garbage from
someplace that it's supposed to be truly upset me about my job... And
that got me thinking.
I enjoy walking in the rain. I don't know where I picked that up from,
perhaps it was from when my parents died. The rain always makes me
think, and masks my own tears. But when I walk, alone, down the
abandoned streets in the middle of a storm, I can think with a clear
mind and not bother with the events around me.
But it was on that particular night, in that particular rain, that I
realized something. I didn't care about my job in the slightest!
Watch them fire me! See if I care! My eyes began to narrow, and I
swear if anyone had been looking at me at that time, they would have
seen a faint red glow in them, very reminiscent of what one would call
a "bat out of hell."
And you know, from that day to this, I don't think I've ever done
anything at that store by the rules. A few months ago, when this new
manager came in, a lot of things changed. To begin with, we are now
required to address the customers over the PA system before we say whate
ver important thing it is that we need to say. Generally, a very
depressed voice will sound over the system and mumble something
incoherent like "Attention shoppers, thank you for shopping with us
today," followed by whatever it was that they needed.
Well, I took it on myself to liven these announcements up. In the
process, I discovered a very strange thing... I couldn't be fired!
"Hoi, Darien! Call Humperdinck to the back, would ya?" Humperdinck
is the name we use to make fun of the manager. "Sure," I yell back,
grinning wickedly and running over to the phone. The first time I
ever cracked out the PA system, I got a few snickers. And a LOT of
good commentary from other employees. It seems that I could do
something none of them had the guts to do...
The PA system crackled loudly as I spoke into the receiver on that day...
"Attention shoppers. We appreciate you shopping with us today. If
you weren't shopping with us, then you'd be somewhere else. We
appreciate the fact that you have chosen to shop here. Without your
continued support through the years, we would not be able to exist in
the facet that we do now. If there's anything at all we can do to
make your shopping experience better, please: don't hesitate to ask
our manager Humper... er... Robert Bischoff, he'd be glad to help.
If you'd prefer to be anonymous in your commentary of our store, feel
free to fill out one of the forms at our service desk. Thank you for
shopping with us today... and remember, if it wasn't for your money,
we wouldn't be here. Humperdi... er... Robert, would you come to the
back please? Robert, to the back room."
From that day onward, the moment that PA system crackled, employees all
over the store would stop to listen in hopes it was another one of my
tongue-in-cheek ads. Golly, I'd never felt so welcomed in my life.
Several weeks later, I met that girl again. I was sitting in the back,
playing around when I should have been working and generally making a
fool of myself, when my manager's voice crackled over the speakers.
"Attention shoppers, thank you for shopping with us today." The man
has no sense of style... "Darien, come to the service desk, Darien, to
the service desk." I shouted back obtrusively at the speaker system.
"NO!" However, after a few minutes, I decided that I had nothing
better to do and meandered up to the front counter. I whistled the
theme to Robin Hood -- you know, the one from the old Disney cartoon
about the fox -- and strolled up an aisle, both hands behind my head,
and my arms outstretched. I spotted my manager behind the service
desk and walked out in front of several customers, nearly getting
myself run over in the process. When would those customers ever learn?
They should watch where they are walking.
I made it up to the manager and coughed my presence. He turned around
and smiled. That meant he wanted something and didn't think I'd do it.
I eyed him warily and said nothing. He cleared his throat and stepped
aside, revealing a blond, odangoed female. The smile on her face fell
the moment she saw me. "Darien," said my manager, unoblivious to the
whole situation before him. The man is as dense as Leonardo Dicaprio
is shallow. "This is Serena, she starts work today. Will you give her
a quick tour of the store?"
"What? I'm going to be shown around by him?" Her face moved into a
pout and she crossed her arms.
I couldn't contain myself further. "Odango Atama!" And then to my
manager. "I refuse." But my manager gave me that look that only
managers can give. That look that says you're hanging by a thread...
kinda like Drew Barrymore's career after E.T. And I found myself
giving a tour of the back room to the same girl I sprayed with a leaky
can of Sunkist not one week previous.
I don't remember being overly upset after work that day, but my
roommate Andrew says that for the next week it was impossible to live
around me. But in any case, Andrew and his girlfriend Mina noticed my
sulken behaviour and took it upon themselves to get me out of the
house. They started bringing over some of the oddest girls. They were
all bubbly, and most of them couldn't even walk straight. There was
one gal, I swear that she hit anybody she walked past, her hips swayed
back and forth so much... but I have never been one for being set up
and made it my priority to be on my absolute worst behaviour in front
of each girl. Once again, I could go off forever on the different
things that I did in each circumstance, but I just don't have the time.
I'd be glad to tell any of you lovely ladies later though...
And that uncovers yet another one of my petpeeves. I happen to have a
fairly close-knit group of friends that I can be around. They aren't
exactly the kind of people I can really talk to or depend on, but it's
just fun on occasion to get out and do things. Well, most of them had
recently found girlfriends. I hadn't yet. Obviously, I felt a little
left out. My friends noticed that and tried their best to still
include me in their activities.
But you know, I just don't like being the "third wheel," so to speak.
For some odd reason, there always seems to be some disaster or another
that occurs from my being along. Last weekend, for example, I was
invited along as the... let's see... ninth wheel. Basically, I was
without a date on a four-couple date. We went to go see the new
Mission Impossible flick. Unfortunately, that involved a thirty-minute
drive to the nearest decent theatre.
Well, the ride there I was pretty much ignored. I wish I could say
the same thing about the ride back, but other things decided to happen.
Basically, the movie finished and I sat back to listen to the song
playing through the ending credits. It's something my friends and I
always used to do... but apparently nobody decided to tell me that we
didn't anymore. I looked around to find myself the only one in the
theatre. When I ran outside, I only discovered that my friends had
already left.
Do you know how embarrasing it is trying to call neighbors or relatives
at midnight to drive thirty minutes to pick you up because your friends
left you? Needless to say, I haven't done too much with them as of
late... and I probably won't until I find a good girl that I can
settle down with somewhat.
The one time I did find a gal I was interested in asking out turned
out to be an interesting experience. Want to hear?
*ML nods profusely, hoping for some good Serena/Darien WAFF*
I was walking up to the front desk, when this gal walked in. She was
wearing a white blouse and this short plaid, pleated skirt. That's my
weakness, pleats...
*half the ML stands and leaves for a minute, only to return in skirts
of their own. Darien clears his throat, blushes, and begins on the
story again*
So anyway, I decided to *ahem* face the aisles that she just happened
to be walking down. Many of you would call this stalking, but I'll
have you know, I was just protecting my interests. So I faced, and I
watched. And I faced, and I watched. And I faced... and I lost her.
Where had she gone? I meandered into the backroom to sulk, and
happened to run into my roommate Andrew on the way. He was reading
magazines with his girlfriend Mina.
"Hey Darien," he greeted.
"Oh, hey Andrew, what are you up to?" I replied, taking the opportunity
to avoid work all the longer.
"Not much, just reading magazines. Have you seen the reviews for the
new Resident Evil game? It looks soooooo cool."
We made idle chit-chat about video games and upcoming anime when she
walked by. Her hips waggled back and forth, and her skirt swayed in
unison. It was truly a site to behold. I told Andrew that I had been
following her and wouldn't mind asking her out... he replied by giving
Mina a playful kick.
"Isn't that your cousin? You should introduce them..."
"Introduce? But Andrew, she's only fourteen..."
I felt more like a pedaphile at that time than I had ever before...
*ML laughs at Darien's torture. It is several minutes before they
settle down enough to begin once again to pay attention to Darien's
story.*
... and there I was facing the aisle filled with "those", face bright
red, and feeling like a complete fool, when a rather large, imposing-
looking woman turned her cart and began walking towards me. "Young man,
what are you doing here?" she said to me. "Uh... nothing, ma'am?"
"Hmm..." she muttered under her breath. "Little pervert..." I haven't
been on that aisle since...
The other problem I have at work is with clean-up. Do you know what
the worst things are to clean up? Molasses, oil, and "those"...
please, just don't ask any questions about that last. I still recall
that incident in my nightmares... Well, I was sitting in the back,
working as hard as I usually do, when I get the obligatory call of
"Darien, clean up on aisle two." Aisle two? Aisle two has notepaper,
school supplies, cards, and candy... what in the world could provide
for a clean up? I suppose I had thought too soon. I turned onto aisle
two, armed with a broom and a dustpan.
The floor was literally covered in M&Ms. I had trouble seeing any of
the white tile beneath the blue, brown, green, orange, red, and yellow
candy-colored shells... that day, M&Ms just took an entirely different
taste. I decided I would never eat another peanut M&M in my life.
Standing in the direct center, holding a once-filled case of peanut
M&Ms was the new girl, Serena. "Don't move!" I said, wincing at the
thought of having crushed M&Ms to pick up. She wailed back.
"I'm sorry! It was slow up front and I just wanted to help... the
bottom of the box broke open and the bags all split open when they hit
the floor! Gomen ne..."
"Gomen ne?" I said back questioningly.
"Yea," she replied. "It's Japanese for..."
"...I'm sorry." We finished in unison.
"You know Japanese too?" she asked smiling.
"Hai..." I stuttered back in amazement. I flushed for a moment when I
realized that I was staring at her with my jaw hanging open. Then I
quickly began to sweep all of the M&Ms into one pile. Serena ducked
down and did her best to scoop what she could into the box she had been
holding. It took a few minutes to get everything together and picked
up, and I discarded the broom in favor of picking up the stragglers by
hand. Serena was helping as well.
The M&Ms quickly disappeared. Brown, I grabbed it. Blue, hers.
Yellow, mine. Green, hers. Red, mine... and hers. Our hands
overlapped on the candy-shelled, chocolate covered peanut that melts
in your mouth, not in your hand. I looked at her, and she at me. I
lost myself for a moment in her deep blue eyes. She stared right back
into my eyes. And then she pulled her hand away and blushed. I
hesitated a moment before picking up the last M&M and deposited it in
the box.
I picked up the box. "I'll go throw this in the garbage," I announced
hesitantly. She nodded, her face still a little red. I turned to
leave... and the bottom of the box fell out again. M&Ms fell in a
waterfall and once again covered the floor. I sighed. Serena laughed.
And after that day, work became an awful lot more enjoyable. Serena
came back and chatted with me on occasion. We ate lunch together.
She made me smile, and I was truly happy for the first time since
before my parents' death.
We began to date, which several of my coworkers found to be quite
strange. They had been convinced that I... well, I... *ahem, blushes*
leaned that way. Let me explain. I was in the backroom having an
interesting discussion with my cohorts from the freight crew, when one
of them accused me of actually liking men!
"What?" I contended. "I most certainly do not!"
"Prove it," he replied.
"Alright, fine." I thought for a moment. "Make an advance towards me...
I'll reject you. Will that be enough?"
"It's a start." Then, in as best a sultry voice as he could mimic,
"Hey there, cute thing. I love you..."
I shrugged and grinned. "Ah, what the heck... I love you too man!"
I embraced my coworker in a bear hug.
And they've been wondering ever since.
But anyway, back to the reason I'm here... I met Serena, and I'm sure
you can guess the rest. One month after we had been dating, I decided
to get her something to celebrate our new-found relationship. But
wouldn't you know it, she got me something too -- a family-size bag of
peanut M&Ms. I gave her a six pack of Sunkist Orange Soda.
She pulled off a can of the soda and shook it up, then pointed it at
me and pulled the top. The warm orange soda found its mark as I found
myself drenched from head to foot in the sticky substance. I tore into
the bag of M&Ms and began throwing them at her. Pretty quick, it
turned into our own rendition of World War III.
I failed to mention that we exchanged gifts in the store as well...
needless to say, we found ourselves both sitting in the manager's
office. I was slightly more uncomfortable...
The next day I looked over at the remaining M&Ms I had. I popped in a
couple of peanut M&Ms and smiled. They were sweet. Maybe I could
learn to enjoy eating these things again...