Archive for March 22, 2005

The Return of the Jerk and other Stories

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Jerk Jerkinelli is back, better than ever! This is how the agony usually goes. I call him and tell him his special order is in, usually an interesting 60s soundtrack or some prog rock DVD. He has most calls blocked on his phone, except for Stupid & Crazy. In the event that it is blocked, he gave me his special code–one of many pieces of information that I wish didn’t take up valuable space in my overcrowded brain. So usually, because he’s probably screening his calls while he plays his Weather Channel fusion on all his guitars and watches his Yes DVD’s, he has to call me back to talk to, just me, no one else, to repeat the same information I just gave him in the previous message.

During lunch, I got a page for me and I stupidly picked it up. It was him. “Jerk, I’m at lunch.” “Is that all I got?” “Jerk I’m at lunch.” “Well put me up to DVD’s then.”

Then he comes in. A phone message, a phone call, a visit. Rinse lather repeat. Tells me he was giving me a courtesy call. Makes it sound like it was Nebbish’s fault for paging me on my lunch (more on Nebbish in a minute), instead of his fault for calling the store and specifically asking for me to give him basic information that anyone else can. Which I sort of explained, flusteredly because I was holding back the urge to tell him what a fucking imbecile he is, and I hate it that this guy is loaded (because he whined his way through some sort of settlement, perhaps over brain damage) and doesn’t have to to work for a living.

His black mullet cast a long shadow over our staff at dinnertime, and I tried unsuccessfully to hide from him until it was time to go home.

Nebbish embodies every bad stereotype about Jewish boys. He’s got the whiniest voice in the world, no sense of humor, and follows everything to the letter whether it makes sense or not. Like lunging for the phone when there’s someone at the desk and then paging for someone who’s at lunch. Someday he will be rich and send messengers into Stupid and Crazy to buy records from people like me.

More crazy work stories after the jump:

March 22, 2005 at 10:09 pm 1 comment

No One’s Home…Except For 200 Teenagers

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Did this guy learn how to run a bar by watching Porky’s?

Doc Watson’s owner Daniel Flynn, 36, told patrons younger than 21 to go to the building’s third floor. About 200 people complied. Flynn also told a bar employee to stay on the second floor and make sure no one tried to get downstairs.

A short time later, Flynn ordered the group of patrons to climb to the building’s fourth floor – a one-bedroom apartment where he told police he lives. Flynn then closed and padlocked the door.

When police asked Flynn whether anyone was on the fourth floor, he said that he did not know and that he had no key to the lock. Officers then climbed the fire escape, looked in a fourth-floor window, and saw people packed inside “like sardines,” Pauley said.

March 22, 2005 at 9:15 pm 4 comments


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