- Randy, my boss. Fat old sumbitch who keeps half my tips. He owns the bar and makes sexist comments that make absolutely no sense. Something about how I probably got arrested because I couldn't clean and then I learned how to clean in prison or something. What? Like I said, absolutely no sense. But he gives his dirty old man laugh and hands me a bucket to clean up after the night crowd. Complete and utter douchecanoe.
- The super. Don't know what his name is, don't care. But he makes the list because he refuses to fix my A/C. 59 deg F. The F stands for Fucking Cold as a Witch's Tit.
- Bill. (Bill is my parole officer, I haven't really talked about him before now. He's one of those people who has absolutely no personality. He probably doesn't deserve to be on the list but I'm pissed off right now so there you go.)
- And the big A-number One douchecanoe in my life? Chore Oboe, or whatever his name is. Chore is right, he's a complete fucking chore to deal with. (Ha! I'm so clever.)
If you're in the area, you've probably seen him around. Tall, skinny, sores on one side of his mouth and speed teeth. Dirty blonde hair, lines on his face. There's a phrase my family likes to use: rode hard and put away wet. He's probably in his mid-twenties, but he looks much older. (So I say, but I can't stand looking in my own mirror. Can we say Susan Sarandon?) And that stupid fucking tattoo! Seriously!
All right, that's enough for today. I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I just got home from an eight-hour shift of Randy's bullshit. I need to sleep.
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