Just weeks after the whole "Joe's gonna kill me" thing passed, Jimmy and I got jobs to work at a port-a-potty.
"This is gonna be the best job ever," Jimmy enthused as we walked towards the place.
"Yep," I answered. And it seemed like it would be until we actually got there and saw the exact kind of work we had to do: dig trenches behind the port-a-potties. "Are you kiddin'?"
Our new boss, Mr. Crapinski, shook his head and, looking around darkly, muttered, "You'll do what you were hired for."
Jimmy made a sickened face as soon as Mr. Crapinski had turned away. I elbowed him before the older man turned around.
"Here," he snarled, handing us shovels roughly.
Jimmy groaned as soon as Mr. Crapinski had gone out of earshot and said to me, "How did we get in this mess?" Literally, as we looked down at the... 'mess' in front of us.
"We wanted something to do," I grunted, sticking the shovel in and starting a little trench.
"Anything but this," he gasped.
-----
After a week on the job, it seemed like an eternity, Jimmy and I had gotten a little more accustomed to the job, as disgusting as it could get.
"Man, how much longer are we gonna do this?" Jimmy griped.
"Not longer, just today, ok? Then we can quit and Pa won't be too mad at me for starting somethin' I couldn't finish."
"Ok." We continued on until we were staring up at the sign that was in front of the Port-a-potties. Crapinski's Port-a-potties. It seemed like some sick joke.
"Mr. Crapinski," I called. "We're here..."
"Again..." Jimmy chimed.
"Mr. Crapinski? Are you here?"
"Ah," I heard faintly. It sounded like groans that followed it.
Jimmy glanced at me. "What the ...?"
"Who's there?" Mr. Crapinski yelled, sounding like he was in pain.
"It's, err, us! Jimmy and Phil! Where are you?" Jimmy yelled back.
"In one of the trenches!" he growled.
We ran to the line of trenches and stared down at our boss, who had obviously slipped and banged his leg on the cement ground, breaking his leg.
"Get help, Jimmy," I ordered.
"Sure thing," he said, wide eyed, before running off. Since there were no ambulances or real hospitals around for miles, we had to call our dads and they had to take Mr. Crapinski home.
"Come on, Mr. Crapinski," Jimmy's dad said, trying to help the man up to his one good foot.
"Wait," he growled. "Wait, I say!" He slapped Mr. Kafka's arm away and looked at Jimmy and me. "I hate to do it but you two'll have to run my port-a-potty business. Kafka's the boss and ... What's your last name again? You'll watch the customers."
I suddenly felt as if I had been smacked in the face. Why did he pick Jimmy? I had worked harder and done less complaining than Jimmy!
Jimmy, however, was thrilled. "Did ya hear that, Phil?! I'm the boss!"
"Oh, yeah, I heard it," I said dully.
"This is the best job ever," he cheered.
-----
For a few days, things went ok between the two although I was a little more begrudging about things. On the following Saturday, however, I was a little more angry than usual and it all blasted apart.
"Phil, could you clean out the port-a-potties?" This simple request did it. I threw down my shovel and glared up at Jimmy.
"Hello! I'm a little busy here," I yelled. "I'm trying to dig this trench! With no help from you!"
"I'm the boss! I'm not supposed ta help!"
"I should've been boss," I yelled.
"Well, shoulda woulda coulda," he cried. "I'm the boss!" He was repeated himself.
"Fine! Be the boss!" I glared at him and then, grabbing my stuff, I left quickly.
"I will!" he screamed.
As I walked quickly along, I didn't notice where I was going and slammed right into Gertie, throwing her into the ground. "Oh. Er. Gertie. Sorry."
"Have a fight with your friend?" she asked, smirking evilly.
"Uh, yeah." As I leaned down to help her up, she stared into my eyes for a second and then pulled her arm away, brushing invisible dust from her dress.
"What about?" she wondered, suddenly seeming... not so Gertie-ish.
"He was made boss and I wasn't," I grumbled. It seemed almost natural to tell her something that I hadn't even told my pa.
"Went to his head, did it?" she asked.
"Yeah, I guess so. And I didn't help things."
"Don't worry. It'll work out." She bit her lip and then walked off.
I blinked. What a weird girl.
"This is gonna be the best job ever," Jimmy enthused as we walked towards the place.
"Yep," I answered. And it seemed like it would be until we actually got there and saw the exact kind of work we had to do: dig trenches behind the port-a-potties. "Are you kiddin'?"
Our new boss, Mr. Crapinski, shook his head and, looking around darkly, muttered, "You'll do what you were hired for."
Jimmy made a sickened face as soon as Mr. Crapinski had turned away. I elbowed him before the older man turned around.
"Here," he snarled, handing us shovels roughly.
Jimmy groaned as soon as Mr. Crapinski had gone out of earshot and said to me, "How did we get in this mess?" Literally, as we looked down at the... 'mess' in front of us.
"We wanted something to do," I grunted, sticking the shovel in and starting a little trench.
"Anything but this," he gasped.
-----
After a week on the job, it seemed like an eternity, Jimmy and I had gotten a little more accustomed to the job, as disgusting as it could get.
"Man, how much longer are we gonna do this?" Jimmy griped.
"Not longer, just today, ok? Then we can quit and Pa won't be too mad at me for starting somethin' I couldn't finish."
"Ok." We continued on until we were staring up at the sign that was in front of the Port-a-potties. Crapinski's Port-a-potties. It seemed like some sick joke.
"Mr. Crapinski," I called. "We're here..."
"Again..." Jimmy chimed.
"Mr. Crapinski? Are you here?"
"Ah," I heard faintly. It sounded like groans that followed it.
Jimmy glanced at me. "What the ...?"
"Who's there?" Mr. Crapinski yelled, sounding like he was in pain.
"It's, err, us! Jimmy and Phil! Where are you?" Jimmy yelled back.
"In one of the trenches!" he growled.
We ran to the line of trenches and stared down at our boss, who had obviously slipped and banged his leg on the cement ground, breaking his leg.
"Get help, Jimmy," I ordered.
"Sure thing," he said, wide eyed, before running off. Since there were no ambulances or real hospitals around for miles, we had to call our dads and they had to take Mr. Crapinski home.
"Come on, Mr. Crapinski," Jimmy's dad said, trying to help the man up to his one good foot.
"Wait," he growled. "Wait, I say!" He slapped Mr. Kafka's arm away and looked at Jimmy and me. "I hate to do it but you two'll have to run my port-a-potty business. Kafka's the boss and ... What's your last name again? You'll watch the customers."
I suddenly felt as if I had been smacked in the face. Why did he pick Jimmy? I had worked harder and done less complaining than Jimmy!
Jimmy, however, was thrilled. "Did ya hear that, Phil?! I'm the boss!"
"Oh, yeah, I heard it," I said dully.
"This is the best job ever," he cheered.
-----
For a few days, things went ok between the two although I was a little more begrudging about things. On the following Saturday, however, I was a little more angry than usual and it all blasted apart.
"Phil, could you clean out the port-a-potties?" This simple request did it. I threw down my shovel and glared up at Jimmy.
"Hello! I'm a little busy here," I yelled. "I'm trying to dig this trench! With no help from you!"
"I'm the boss! I'm not supposed ta help!"
"I should've been boss," I yelled.
"Well, shoulda woulda coulda," he cried. "I'm the boss!" He was repeated himself.
"Fine! Be the boss!" I glared at him and then, grabbing my stuff, I left quickly.
"I will!" he screamed.
As I walked quickly along, I didn't notice where I was going and slammed right into Gertie, throwing her into the ground. "Oh. Er. Gertie. Sorry."
"Have a fight with your friend?" she asked, smirking evilly.
"Uh, yeah." As I leaned down to help her up, she stared into my eyes for a second and then pulled her arm away, brushing invisible dust from her dress.
"What about?" she wondered, suddenly seeming... not so Gertie-ish.
"He was made boss and I wasn't," I grumbled. It seemed almost natural to tell her something that I hadn't even told my pa.
"Went to his head, did it?" she asked.
"Yeah, I guess so. And I didn't help things."
"Don't worry. It'll work out." She bit her lip and then walked off.
I blinked. What a weird girl.