Maj and I are standing in a store, waiting for Mark and Kallan, minding our own business.
Mostly.
There is a man re-stocking shelves in front of us.
Young man, maybe 20. Lank dark hair that hangs into his face as he works. He is not fat, but he has that young-man pudginess that speaks of too many hours spent mastering video games of some sort. He is a man accustomed to sitting and staring, and this working in a grocery store thing appears to be a new and unpleasant experience.
Maj and I are minding our own business and watching him intently.
His pants hang a little too low. Maj nudges me with her elbow when he leans over to pick up a box. I nudge her back, because yes . . . I do see that he is wearing purple underwear and that this purple underwear is not actually entirely covering his ass.
He stands up and hikes his pants high. Too high.
He slowly moves the snacks from the box onto the shelf. One at a time, with careful fingers. Until the box is empty.
He moves to open another box, but he has trouble. He claws at the tape with ineffectual fingernails. He picks up the box and holds it under one arm, swinging it up close to his face so that he can locate the edge of the tape. He squints at the box and picks at the tape. Reaches down to hike his pants up again. Too high.
He gives up on the box. Puts it down.
Looks around as though there might be something more interesting to do in another part of the store.
Rearranges the items that are already on the shelf.
Stands.
Hikes up his pants. Too high.
He calls to a cashier, “Hey, Marie? Do you know when I get a break?”
Marie does not know.
He turns in a circle, scanning the store for someone else who might know when he gets a break. There is no one.
He squats down next to the box that gave him earlier trouble and punches it suddenly.
Maj nudges me as his ill-fitting purple underwear comes into view again. I nudge her back . . . yes, I see.
He has now punched an access route into the box, and through this hole, he reaches to remove small items. One by one, with careful fingers.
Maj whispers into my ear, “Why doesn’t he open the box all the way?’
I shrug my shoulders. We watch him.
He empties the box. He stands thoughtfully for a minute. He turns in a circle again, seemingly in need of directions or a break or guidance of some sort.
He stomps on the empty boxes, noisily flattening them into messy shapes.
Stands. Hikes his pants up. Too high.
And then? He is all unexpected quick motion as he performs some sort of karate move that ends with him kicking high and sloppy into the air.
Maj snorts with laughter.
And then there is a voice from above us, “John, I need to speak with you.”
The man’s name is John, apparently.
John and Maj and I all look up to see who is speaking. There is an upper level to this store that houses administrative offices, and the speaker is standing outside of these offices. A tired looking man who moves to the top of the stairs and gestures with curling fingers at John, “Come here.”
John takes several steps up the stairs, and then he pauses with upturned face, “What?”
Neither of them seems aware of Maj and me. We are invisible.
“How long you been working here, John?”
“Ummmm . . . two weeks.”
The older man runs his hand through his hair, sinks his chin down into his chest, silent for a moment. Then he says, “Here’s the thing, John. I have been watching you work, and here’s the thing.”
John stares at the man, waiting for the thing.
The older man continues, “If you are going to continue working here? I am going to have to enjoy you a little more. Are you listening to what I am saying, John? I am not enjoying you. I am not enjoying being in your presence.”
John stares.
The older man tries again. “Is there any way that you can make it so that I enjoy being around you? This cannot go on, John. I am not enjoying you. I need you to be enjoyable.”
John stares, and then says, “OK.”
John is not at all sure that this is the end of this conversation, so he waits on the stairs.
The older man sighs, “Go back to work.”
John turns and leaps, sloppy ninja warrior, from the stairs.
The older man calls down the stairs, “I did not enjoy that, John.”
John hikes up his pants. Too high.
Turns to the cashier, “Hey, Marie? You know when I get a break?”
Marie still does not know.
Snort!
First??
YES!
Okay, now I can really comment.
I am laughing perhaps a bit too loudly and inappropriately right now because:
A. I used to work in a grocery store and we had way too many employees like that.
and
B. I am currently doing a high school series/memoir on my blog where I describe having dated two John’s, back-to-back and they both sucked. One has become appropriately known as Asshole John. I know quite a few “John’s” and I really have a hard time with that name.
I also find it hilarious that you and Maj were apparently invisible to everything that was going on. And purple underwear? Hmm. I think I need to get my husband some of those!
You are first!
Yay!
A) I used to work in a cafeteria, and many of the employees were just like this guy.
B) Asshole John? Snort! Asshole John who sucked? Double snort!
As for the underwear?
We assumed they were men’s underwear.
Close inspection was impossible.
I would enjoy this more if you were in purple underwear.
Just so you know.
Of course you would, babe.
Of course you would.
That would make a great sketch-comedy bit.
Seriously. It’s all Kids In the Hall.
Also?
Could you really be 100% sure they were men’s purple underwear?
I’m just sayin’.
I have still never watched an entire episode of that show, despite Nigel’s bossing.
And I hope they were men’s underwear.
We did not get close enough to verify.
ACK!
I think this scene plays itself out in every retail store in this country. Sigh.
And when you mention that he hikes his pants up too high, I picture an old man with his long-crotch pants and his belt around his ribs.
He was young.
Wearing those pants that are supposed to be cool, but are instead just ill-fitting and inclined to expose your ass if you are not careful.
He hiked them way high (it appeared to me) to maximize the amount of time before hiking was yet again required.
He seemed to have missed the whole point of the low-slung pants.
Snort!
If I were John I would’ve answered my boss with silence and then broke out in the mash potato.
I mean, whats more enjoyable than doing the mash potato while donning purple skivvies?
Plus also? I am pretty sure that Fruit of the Loom does create colored skivs for men. To match the fruit colors. Grapes you know.
John did not appear to be clever enough to suddenly entertain his boss with cool dancing.
Not even.
And Fruit of the Loom made fruit-colored underwear?
That is pretty awesome.
Poor John. His days are numbered. Dude needs to go work somewhere else, where his skills are wanted. Like a video game store.
I adore people watching. It’s better than any of the crap they put on TV.
I am not enjoying you right now. Can I steal this line? I wonder if my dog would care if I said it to her?
People-watching is awesome.
And John is doomed.
But he won’t know he is doomed until the doomage descends.
Pretty sure.
He may never know. Have you seen some of the people walking around lately?
This is true.
duuude… my kids would LOVE to know that Napoleon Dynamite works in our city!!! fukin awesome.
OK, now I want to watch that movie again!
Yes!
that is so what I was thinking as I was reading this lolol
All I keep wondering is how high is too high, I am quite sure at some point in my day someone things, “too high” but Im not positive LOL
Some might argue (in another context) that there is no such thing as too high.
But for me?
If a man pulls his loose-fitting pants up so high that a vee-shape is formed by the waistband as the middle of the vee is caught between his legs?
Too high.
Snort!
OH ! HAHAH I didn’t even think of it (in that context!)
I literally meant that I yank my pants WAY too high daily HAHAHA
But…SNORT! You made me literally snort out loud at work!
You’re right, in another context?
THERE IS NO SUCH THING! LOL
Hee hee!
Love you.
And now?
I have the munchies.
What’s up with that, you think?
HA!
.. I’m craving Koolaid Slammers and fruit roll ups now!..
I always revert to terrible choices when I have the munchos!!! :)
Me?
I am all about the cookies and the salty chips.
I mean . . . I imagine I would be.
Ahem.
hahaha
I’m not going to lie, totally read that wrong.
Salty nips do not seem nearly as appealing as salty chips!!
Why would nips even be salty? ok.
Back to work with nippy thoughts!!
Salty nips?
I imagine them all sea-going, with the salty ocean foam crashing up over the sides of the boat.
Sailor nips.
Snort!
And I picture them saying, “ARRR ME MATEY!”!!!!
HAHAHA!
It is so good that we are not high.
We would be all kinds of ridiculous!
And I would be wearing a pirate eye-patch over one nipple.
Duh.
That is crazy. Who is that cranky old dude?
Guess what?
Cranky old dude was younger than I am.
Maybe 35.
Old enough to be way fucking tired of working with people like John.
Snort!
God, that was funny. Thank you for everything I envisioned.
Yay!
Pants on the ground ninja!
We used to have a kid who liked to practice his skateboard moves on the busy street in front of our house.
aside-maybe not kid, maybe young adult, at least I hope so, cause he was actually kind of hot & I’m kind of old, so I’m hoping he was actually legal…
Ahem, this…young man was of the droopy-drawers variety and at one point as I was watching, (I mean, as I happened to glance out the window)
The pants did indeed hit the ground.
And for just a moment in time there was a young man, in his tighty-whiteys at the end of my driveway.
Happy sighs at the thought of the hot young man in your driveway.
In his tighty-whiteys.
Just for a moment.
Happy sighs.
Do you know how afraid I am that you have just described my son in the future?
How does one go about not raising a boy to turn into someone like this who is a source of amusement to surreptitious observers but an annoyance to those he has to impress?
Funny post, but also a little bit scary from the pov of a video game addict’s mother. Sigh.
Ummmm . . .
I do not know what to say.
DO NOT LET YOUR SON WEAR PURPLE UNDERWEAR!
Snort!
Gotcha.
He also won’t wear those goofy baggy pants.(yay, I am raising him with fashion sense!) but I can imagine him busting out some goofy karate kick when he is bored & avoiding work & unaware that he has an audience… was that store employee perhaps a 12-year-old?
He appeared to be an immature approximate 20.
With no fashion sense.
Not your son.
Yet.
Oh, you are all kinds of mean, saying “yet”!
Hee hee!
You are the one who suggested the possibility.
Pretty sure.
Don’t worry, Kris. I am enjoying you, and you can wear whatever color underwear you want.
Actually?
I am a no-undies kind of girl.
Enjoy that.
Snort!
TMI
Snort!
I did a whole post about this fact.
Are you NEW to blogging?
TMI . . . not even.
This? Was AWESOME. I love people watching; most people are absolutely hilarious when they think no one is watching…and why the hell didn’t his boss enjoy the karate moves…I so would have.
Thanks, you!
I love people-watching.
And although the sloppy karate moves were awesome?
John’s boss did not seem to be requesting entertainment.
Although Maj and I?
Highly entertained.
Hopefully John’s boss did not mean “enjoy you” in the dirty way that it sounded. Bless his heart. John’s- not the boss’.
HA!
So funny.
All giggly over here.