I have played tic-tac-toe without the O in calendar boxes since the date for Amazon Prime got leaked. Yeah, I could have used my $15 store-credit and been smiling from A to Z a few weeks ago, but I’ve had this credit ($10 for signing into the Amazon app for the first time and $5 for signing into the Kindle app for the first time.) since December 2017 and it doesn’t expire until New Year’s Eve 2020. I actually forgot about it then was reminded upon checkout of Lucy, The Big Short, Interstellar, The Founder, and The Theory of Everything. My first attempt at checking out in 7 months. When I saw that thang go from 40-something to 20-something I kicked over the apple cart. I said to myself, “You need to use this credit on something more meaningful. Them DVD’s can wait.” What’s more meaningful? Headphones to monitor the audio for my Youtube videos. Speaking of Apple, my EarPods wasn’t gone cut it. I needed something over the ear. I could have basically got AmazonBasics free at $14.99, but some reviews about longevity deterred me. I wanted a company known for making noise. I wanted something mid-tier; something priced between your AmazonBasics and Blue Headphones. I chose Audio Technica and narrowed it to either their ATH-M20x or ATH-M30x. I exercised patience to see if I could stack a prime deal on top of my store-credit. Only the latter went on a prime-day sale. My reminder went off 5 minutes before 3PM, the time Prime Day started. I stuffed the rest of my Nacho Fries down my throat, wiped the Mexican spices off my finger tips and softly said to myself, “Fuck carpal tunnel.” I typed Audio Tech and clicked on the first pop-up in the search bar and was met with the following images millions of others experienced in the first hour of shopping on Amazon’s website or app. Either this or you got caught in a “Shop All Deals” loop. Amazon’s website crashed. I was left hitting refresh like Mark Zuckerberg at the end of The Social Network and kept running into man’s best friend …
Did you meet any of these dogs of Amazon during your Prime Day shopping?
In the wake of the W and A in Waffle House being transposed in 2nd Black History Month (Africa in April), Roscoe’s House Of Chicken and Waffles didn’t waffle in their decision to shorten its name to Roscoe’s Chicken.
While the ellipsis in Roscoe’s next text bubble were flickering, Waffle House, who took the name change as batter and buffet because of their recent troubles, stole the spotlight and shined it on what they thought the reason was:
“It’s clear Roscoe’s is kicking us while we’re a pancake and pouring syrup on our wounds. If that’s how y’all wanna play, okay, well, let the games begin. We will take chicken off our menus. No more grilled chicken! The west coast ain’t got no love for waffles and country ham? The west coast ain’t got no love for waffles and country ham and Papa Joe? Y’all don’t love us? Y’all don’t love us? Well, let it be known then! We know y’all west coast! We know where 40 of our locations at! Roscoe Jenkins in the muthafucking house! You know what, more than the chicken cross the road. We taking Hi-C off the menu since y’all got the best chronic and the home of the crips. We taking ice tea off the menu since Ice-T was raised in Los Angeles. And last but not least, we taking orange juice off the muthafucking menu since O.J Simpson from San Francisco. I did it!”
Immediately following Waffle House’s confession, the flickering ellipsis in Roscoe’s text bubble became punctuation marks in sentences of enlightenment:
“The 3 of our locations that weren’t affected by our bankruptcy will be renamed Roscoe’s Chicken while the 4 that were affected will remain Roscoe’s House of Chicken and Waffles. We’re doing this because we want a fresh start. We want to get as far away from the debt and discrimination as possible, therefore, we changed our minds about not moving into the New York market. So if you’re infringing on our trademarks out there you’re no longer safe; Change your name and logo or we will sue the Z-A-N-N out you. Herb Hudson from them Harlem streets now.”
The message continues at great length but that’s the most important part of it; I don’t want to waffle.
Realizing the blunder or blender of their Twitter fingers and the boycott growing to include O-N at the end, Waffle House typed up an apology letter with only their middle fingers (they were fucked!) and offered to donate $3.2 million to the Obama-visited restaurant to help them settle their debt with Daniel Beasley and his attorneys.
While it’s not a surprise Roscoe’s accepted the offer, it was a surprise what their former employee did with his newfound wealth. Beasley became the biggest contributor of the GoFundMe for the victims of the Nashville Waffle House shooting at $200,000. Even went out his way to donate $150 to Jacinda Mitchell and $3,000 to Chikesia Clemons for their recent pain and suffering.
As of writing, Waffle House has reported pancake stacks of slips and falls in 33 locations within the past 15 hours.
Maybe it’s the sip-sip-sizzurp!
Happy 7th Blogiversary FY!!!
Sorry for the wait. His car still in the parking lot. He talking to someone on the phone. Text and drive! Wait … he’s backing out! Dammit, he stopped. Another car drove behind him. Okay, he’s in reverse. Dammit. Some old guy walking behind the car. He needs the aid of some sort of standing wheelchair to walk so he’s slow to move. I hope I don’t be like that when I get old. This gonna be a while.
Okay, the coast is clear. He’s … he’s … not in front of the office no more. Let me run to the door and make sure he’s out of the parking lot. Traffic is bad. Fuck! Come on, man, you had that one! What … why is he reversing? Please don’t tell me he’s coming back to the office. Ohhh he’s finding another exit. Let me follow his car out the parking lot. He can’t see me behind this pole, right? I been losing weight. He found another exit, y’all. He’s … he’s outta here.
Big Bossman won’t be back until Monday afternoon. I have a day and a half to …
- I will untuck my fucking shirt! No one can look at my ass now! That’s what the tennis tail is for. No one will see my penis print either! These not fucking 1980’s basketball shorts.
- I will take my fucking phone off vibrate. Y’all gone hear my Lana Del Rey ringtone and my Sherwood Forest text tone today muthafucka!
- Wear khakis on casual Friday. I ain’t wearing no fucking jeans today! I’m breaking the rules and finishing the week with these Classic Stones baby!
- Make the fucking temperature warm. I be freezing! Goosebumps all over my arm and shit! I try not to complain and just wear a jacket. Y’all act like I’m the IRS and trying to audit the books how y’all got me in this cold ass room shawty!
- Turn off this got-damn elevator music, Bob! We got one floor so why am I hearing this shit? I wanna hear how Bankroll Fresh ran off on the plug today.
- Park in front of the office. Look! I know we in a suite and we only got two parking spaces. I know these spots for the customers and the employees need to park far away from the building. I know this. But have you seen some of them??? They need the exercise.
- Not tell anyone “good morning,” “going to lunch,” and “bye.” Y’all ain’t gotta know where I’m at, at all times. I will come. I will go. That little chime notification that goes off every time the door opens tells you everything you need to know.
- Eat a full-course meal at my desk instead of a snack. Fuck them ants!
- Not go to the restroom just to fart. Look! I don’t know if it’s the Taco Bell, but I burnt-burnt a lot, and I’m tired of getting up. I hold that shit in too long my stomach start growling. There have been studies that said smelling farts is good for your health. I bullshit you not! I can just lie to you and say my chair was squeaking but then I gotta convince you that smell is coming from the vents. Too much trouble. And no, I won’t stop eating Taco Bell. That AM Crunchwrap steak and Naked Egg Taco bundle fye fye!
- Watch something NSFW on company computers. Nah, not porn. That’s for amateurs. I wanna watch videos of what people do with their hands in driverless cars. Like … have sex!
- Not talk in my white people voice because they can still tell I’m black. Ain’t that’s why that white lady called me the N word over and over? Why you talking shit 3,000 miles away though? Oh, yeah, okay!
- Leave the lights on. Big Bossman, you gone mess up our chances at being part of a skyline one day.
- Leave 10 minutes early. I need to beat traffic and customers who like to come in last-minute. Talking about “I just got off work.” Shit, me too!
- Not let a non-customer use the restroom. Look! It’s bad enough I gotta deal with y’all leaving piss, shit, and period blood on the toilet seat.
- Talk into my desk-fan like a child with at least one customer. Thissssss calllll mayyyyyy beeeee monitoreddddd forrrrr qualityyyyyy controlllllll.
- Rub on my nipples when a customer says, “Let me speak with your manager.” Can you say that one more time, just the way you said it, just a little more slowly … and softer. Yes, yes, yasssssssssss bitch!
- Spin around in my chair and say wheeeeee.
- Walk around like I own the place. Nah, fuck that! Let’s go back to number 17. I don’t wanna walk nowhere. Everywhere I go in the office I’m pulling up in my chair, rolling. That’s why they got wheels, right???
- Flirt with pretty customers. If you look good in-person or if you sound good over the phone I’m giving you minimum 22 compliments. I’m shooting my shot like Westbrook! 3 for 22.
- Not do any work the last 2 hours and blame it on Comcast.
Happy 7th Blogiversary FY!!!
I didn’t want to write this. I didn’t want to write this because I don’t want to be responsible for my uncle having 964 new cousins. But I have to write this. I have to write this to flush these annoying thoughts out of head in hopes of this shit sticking to the page. Thoughts like, “If I had that money I would buy this, I would buy that. I would do this, I would do that.” Why the hell am I counting and spending another man’s money?! I only did this probably twice in my life and the thoughts were in passing, but this time it’s been consistent ever since I was told. I know of millionaires and billionaires, but the key words are “know of.” I don’t truly know them. I never met them. I don’t know if they look like their pictures, if they’re shorter in person, if their breath stink. But this hit closer to home. A home I’ve been to countless times. A home I’ve spent the night at. A home I’ve spent holidays at. A home with a backyard I’m scared to go in because of a big ass black dog named Missy. Please, somebody tell me! What is this phenomenon called? Where something impactful (bad or good) happens to a relative and you think it happened to you too, like y’all share the same body, the same mind, the same lifestyle. It’s weird. And people, please take a harder look at your junk mail. I was cleaning up and shredding papers when I came across a check from a settlement payment. I was a Settlement Class Member in a class action lawsuit from the time I was employed at this warehouse. By the time I saw the check it was 3 weeks passed the 150 days I had to cash it. Only $13.07 but I needed that little money to go with some other little money to make some little big money, ya feel me? Sigh. Without further ado …
He deserved it.
He has a history of winning. In the mid 2000’s, he was rewarded $20,000 from a court settlement due to a job-related incident. Weeks after his recent lottery winnings of a half of million, he played again and won thousands. In the 90’s, he won over the heart of a woman who keeps my heart clogged up with lasagna and cheesecake: my aunt. Unfortunately, he also has a history of loss. In the early 2000’s, I lost my cousin, their first child together. 3 years ago, they were displaced after their apartment unit went up in flames.
I don’t believe in it.
The only time I ever used a coin, a key, a fingernail to scratch off a lottery ticket is when this car company sent me some mail that said if I get wam-wam-wam in a row I would win a truck. During this time I was naïve to marketing tactics companies use to get foot traffic in their store, so, of course, I got excited when I got wam-wam-wam in order. Know the first person I call? My favorite aunt. She took me to the dealership and I expected to leave off the lot in separate cars. The only thing I left with I didn’t come with was a sucker. No, seriously, they gave me some candy. I didn’t understand the symbolism behind that then, but as of writing, you better believe I do. Although, buying lottery tickets won’t break the bank it’s something I don’t want making my bank either. This has nothing to do with the horror stories you heard about past lotto winners. I’m an entrepreneur and I feel I have a better chance at selling a million scratch devices. Let me pitch you! What do you think of a newly designed coin used solely for scratching off the UV ink on lottery tickets? Instead of dead presidents and monuments no one really visits, how about on the front of the coin it’s a past lotto winner and on the back of the coin it’s a gas station? Insanely great, right? This will be your lucky coin, your lucky charm! 100 on 4 please!
It’s my way of pretending I never heard the news to begin with.
I’m not asking which convenience store he went to. I’m not asking which numbers he played. I’m not trying to act like I didn’t get mad that time he splashed water on me at the pool. I’m not trying to remind him of all the times he playfully asked me to borrow money when I was a kid. I’m not trying to sit around talking about basketball all day and how much I love LeBron James (I will confess my love for the King to any peasant). I’m not trying to educate my aunt on how dirt is more conspicuous on black cars and offer to wash her new Camaro, annnnnd ask to go for a spin in it. I’m not trying to babysit my cousin (their surviving child). My grandma never came over to my place that day and the first thing she said to me after not talking to me in 2 weeks was not “My favorite son-in-law just won $440,000 playing the lottery.” It’s none of my business! It’s none of my business! It’s none of YOUR business, woman!
Would you start playing the lottery after a family member won a significant amount of money? Why or why not?
My alarm clock is my cuddle buddy not in the bed the following morning
Going from a “hey big head” to a airhead, from a booty pillow to a bubble butt always wakes me up
Her schedule waits for no man
“Why you have me do the big spoon, little spoon when you knew you had to work?”
“Bear, I told you I had to get up at 6, and we did the butt ‘cheek-to-cheek.’ Remember you ripped the bedsheets with your big toe nail when we played footsie? Look!”
“Well, who was I hugging from the back?”
“Maybe your dream girl.”
“Now baby I have to go. Your Captain Crunch is getting cold. It’s on the table, been sitting in the milk for 15 minutes which is long enough for it not to mess up the roof of your mouth. Now give me a kiss peace. A closed-mouth one though. You got morning breath. I don’t want to have to brush my teeth all over again. You know toothpaste makes me gag.”
“What we don’t have in common?”
“Hmm. We’re not in the same bed right now.”
“What about now?”
“You’re leaning over the bed. Technically, no body part is in it.”
“You have a really pretty smooth sore-free, arrow-less left knee. Looks way better than mines. Butttttt there are a few body parts I think I like a little bit better.”
“Hmm. This one?”
“Wait. Wait. Before you sit your ass on the bed long enough to make a smiley face imprint you should remember one important thing … you have to go to work.”
“Haven’t you heard?”
2 words. Why did I write it out as 2 instead of two? So you wouldn’t think the two words were the two words, okay? Now, 2 words: Ethics & Compliance. The ampersand is the logogram &, representing the conjunction “and.” The A AND D R silent, therefore, & is the 14th letter of the alphabet, okay? Again, 2 words: Ethics & Compliance. Bullshit! If I moo-ved letters apart that’s 2 words. No! If I put letters together that’s BS.
A year ago I wasted 45 minutes on this bullshit. No, not this post. That was 2 years ago. Know your dates, and know how to play with words. Mooved isn’t a typo. This Ethics & Compliance online course is about inappropriate behavior in the workplace and how you can be affected by it even if you’re not on the receiving end. Me, I’m never on the receiving end ’cause my khakis on casual Friday say, “He don’t play that.”
I work in a call center. One of the first things we tell customers is, “This call may be monitored for quality assurance.” Since we speak to each other more than customers (bad numbers, forwarded calls, etc.) our conversations should be recorded. If that occurred I would be working for myself because as you’re about to read even managers are guilty of being filthy. Desperate for something to consistently write I came up with this series about sex in the workplace, The references. The innuendos. The suggestive. With the myriad of sexual allegations in the media and today being the hump day of all hump days, what better day than today to start the series? Before we begin, as a disclaimer, none of these conversations were eavesdropped on. The following was heard sitting in one spot. I didn’t struggle to ear hustle. These conversations weren’t as private as privates. They weren’t as intimate as intimacy. These conversations start with 2 people at a volume that invites others to chime in. It upgrades to a threesome. Then a swingers party. Then the fifth wheel being left out. Then before I know it there’s an all-out conversation orgy and my customer asking, “Is there a party going on in your background?” Why, yes, Mr. Walton, let me be a party pooper. Hold please. SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! Get it. Shut “the fuck” up. Hahahaha.
Without further ado …
- As we were working, we heard police sirens outside. Charlie, the manager, jokingly said they were coming for Tommy (who sits next to me) and he was going to be locked up with Bubba. An obvious rape in jail joke. Disgusting.
- We have two mounted TV’s. Usually one has a visual with low volume and the other is on a non-video music channel with high volume. Anaconda by Nikki Minaj came on. Josh googles an image of an Anaconda and says to Martin, “look at this Anaconda.” Martin rolls his seat next to Josh’s cubicle and bursts out laughing. Why would a boring fuzzy picture of a snake be hilarious? Because Martin was fooled into thinking it was a penis at first.
- When Reggie, a manager, came into the room for the first time today and heard the music he said, “What are y’all listening to?” in a tone that implied he thought the song was wack. Marlena assured him the station was good and told him about the songs that were playing before he entered. She mentioned Anaconda and Wrecking Balls. The latter never came on.
- Charlie, the manager, talking about that infamous hair gel scene in There’s Something About Mary.
- 4 and go. We get 4 sales and can go home. The best part about it is still being paid for the remaining hours on the shift. You get your 4 within 2 hours of the shift? Well, guess what, you still get your hourly pay for the remaining 6 hours. It’s like you’re not there but you are here. Cassie got hers. Charlie, the manager, says to Tommy, “She’s selling. Are you buying?” Tommy pulls out a hundred-dollar bill. It was in reference to her selling one of her sales (’cause Tommy had no sales) but it had obvious sexual undertones (prostitution).
- Jasmine (who sits next to me) called her man and asked what he wanted for Valentines. Before she let him answer she said, “No sex!”
- Troy, the boss of bosses, told Debbie he ain’t doing “shit” for Valentines. That he was just going to the gym to workout. Debbie said you need to go home and workout. An obvious reference to having sex with his wife.
- As Darin was leaving for the night she told Josh not to have too many babies tonight
- As I was coming out the restroom I hear the other Jasmine state she not a hoe ’cause she only had sex with one person.
As I was writing that last bulletin I decided this topic isn’t good enough to be a series. I hate writing about sex. The best part about this post was the introduction to it. The bulletins were lame in comparison. I was thinking about using the same intro for future installments of the series but then freshness would be lost upon avid readers. I still want to use the workplace to inspire creativity because I’m there for almost half the day. It’s a daily source of material and I wouldn’t have to beat my brain for new ideas everyday, which is only an issue ’cause I’m not in shape at the moment. I need to buy those spy cam glasses and put up some YouTube videos. I love writing. I wrote this on paper at work and during the writing process I was in a zone. I was hearing myself think. My mind was going clickity clickity click. Time flew. It even spilled over to the job because I was more enthusiastic over the phone. Maybe instead of new posts I just constantly add to this? I don’t know. What y’all think? Would you like to consistently read about how horny my co-workers are and how much of a prude I am? Hahahaha