Spring Break 1992 [48 Hours of Hell]

Celebrity Monologues

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Flack
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Spring Break 1992 [48 Hours of Hell]

Post by Flack » Sun Mar 03, 2019 11:27 am

[Part 1]

Shortly after graduating high school I traded my old fast food job for a new one, and with the new job came a new girl. We were only a good fit in the sense that I was a nineteen year old boy, and she liked to do kinky things that up until that point I had only seen performed on scrambled cable channels. Other than that, the two of us had absolutely nothing in common. Looking into her eyes was like staring at a soulless fish -- a fish with a pretty mouth and body to match to be sure, but a pair of eyes that glazed over at the hint of conversation. I'm positive she had never read a book, but it wouldn't have surprised me to find pictures of her in a dirty magazine someday. That being said, she had shortcomings I was willing to overlook each time she pulled me into the walk-in freezer at work to fondle my balls while her father stood just feet away on the other side of the freezer door.

Did I not mention her father? Yes, I was dating the manager's daughter. Her dad was the manager, mom was the assistant manager, I was dating their oldest daughter, and her younger sister would occasionally brush past me at work and whisper in my ear that she had taught her sister how to bend that way.

I had fallen into a routine. I attended classes at the local community college every day, made pizzas every evening, and fondled (or got fondled) by the boss's daughter every night. Things were going well, and also nowhere.

I remember where in the kitchen I was standing the day my manager pitched the idea of training me to become a manager, eventually setting me up with my own store. There, between the make table and the oven, my life flashed before my eyes. I saw myself ten years older, living in the same shitty one room apartment, working sixty hours a week as a manager of a local pizza restaurant and married to the boss's daughter. This wasn't how my life was supposed to turn out. Every adult I had ever met had always reassured me I could "be anything I wanted to be," and this wasn't it. In a span of about five minutes, everything changed. I stood there and smiled like a good boy, but I knew this life wasn't for me. My boss told me to think it over. Little did he know I already had, and the answer would be a hard "no."

The next day, I broke up with his daughter. I didn't even give her a reason, just told her it wasn't working out. I never knew how cold those soulless eyes could become. That night at work, none of them were speaking to me -- not dad, not mom, not little sis, not my ex, and not any of their friends. By the end of my shift, I had been informed I needed a haircut, that my tie wasn't to company spec, that I wasn't spreading the sauce around evenly when I made a pizza, that the register had been coming up short, and a million other things. The writing was on the wall. I had to get out that place, and fast.

That night in my apartment, I dug through a couple of boxes until I found a phone number I was looking for. It belonged to Meg, a girl I had always liked in high school but never had the courage to ask out. I had tried to reconnect with her once after graduation, only to learn that she had moved out of state to go to school. Fortunately for me, it was the beginning of spring break, and Meg had come back to Oklahoma. I rang her up out of the blue and the two of us spent an hour catching up. She invited me to come over to her dad's place the following night, to catch up in person. I told her I'd be there.

Then someone went and threw Shane's bicycle in the trash compactor and fucked everything up.

[Part 2]

Shane was a co-worker of mine that nobody liked. He was a year younger than me, still in high school, and had already graduated from smoking weed to popping random pills. He looked trustworthy, but wasn't. Come to think of it, he looked a lot like a teenage James Woods.

More than once, I saw Shane eating leftover food out of bus tubs of dirty dishes. Someone told me his dad worked for the local church and had kicked his son out of the house. I didn't ask because I didn't care. All I knew is that he rode a bicycle to work every day and parked it out back behind the restaurant, next to the trash compactor.

Work had been beyond awkward. In the kitchen, I watched the clock and practiced holding my breath a minute at a time to make the time go by faster. All I wanted to do was get out of that place, get away from the silent treatment and the cold stares, and go see Meg.

At precisely closing time and not a second later, I briskly walked over to the time clock and punched out. I walked into the back room to get my coat. Nobody said "bye" to me, nor did I say "bye" to anyone else. I was walking toward the back door when it opened and Shane walked in. "Has anybody seen my bike?"

A few of us went outside and began to look around. Someone looked behind the small privacy fence that guarded the trash compactor. Someone else walked around the side of the building. I happened to glance down inside the trash compactor and saw it -- the front wheel of a bicycle that had been folded over like a taco. I called Shane over to deliver the bad news. There had been a fence around the compactor, but we never locked it; the compactor required a key to operate, but we always left it in. the next day I would get written up for not securing the gate and accused of crushing Shane's bike, which is ridiculous. In light of the guy's current situation, I offered to give him a ride home, which he accepted.

Once he was in my car, he informed me he was homeless and "asked" if he could crash at my apartment. When I told him I wasn't going to my apartment, he suggested I "drop him off there" until got back. The reason the register at work was light every night was because of Shane and everybody knew it. When I pushed back, he said, "I guess I'm going where you're going then."

To see Meg.

When I got to Meg's dad's place I discovered that nobody else was home -- just her. With Shane in tow, I felt the opportunity of a lifetime slipping through my fingers. She took one look at our third wheel and suggested we go out somewhere instead, and so we decided on the local mall. A romantic outing with the three of us.

Inside the mall, Meg and I were catching up outside a clothing store when Shane came barreling out of the store muttering "let's go, let's go" under his breath. He was walking briskly and so we followed him, down the escalator and out into the parking lot. By the time we got to my car, I could see all the shirts he had boosted from the store falling out from underneath his jacket. There was no way Meg wanted this guy back at her dad's place. I didn't want him at my place, I didn't want him in my car, and I sure as hell didn't want him tagging along on my date! By the time I dropped Meg off back at her place, her dad was home. I promised to call her before she went back to school. Then I took Shane back to work, gave him a quarter from my car's ashtray, and dropped him off in the parking lot next to the payphone. See ya, Shane.

From there, I went back to my apartment. I hadn't even taken my coat off before I noticed the light on my answering machine was blinking.

[Part 3]

The message was from a friend of mine ("Yoshi") who was throwing a spring break party. Yoshi was a year younger than I was and still in high school, so a spring break party made sense. I called Yoshi to see if the party was still going on. It was, but everybody was out of beer and he wanted to know if I could get some. I told him I could (I was nineteen and looked thirty) but he would need to bring some money because I was broke. We agreed to meet at the Dook Fuung convenient store, a place that wouldn't card you for beer even if you looked twelve.

I pulled up in front of Dook Fuung's and a few minutes later, so did my friends. It was Yoshi along with five other people, all crammed into his compact hatchback. With their money I bought two cases of beer, Dook thanked us, and two of the five people in Yoshi's car ended up hopping into mine -- we were all going to the same party, after all. One of them was my friend Ross, and the other was a girl I had never met before named Candy.

By now it was well after midnight and we were on Route 66, leaving the city and heading into the suburbs. The thing is, small town cops know what teens who are up to no good look like, and they spotted me a mile away. When I saw the red and blue flashing lights I pulled over, and reminded everybody to "be cool."

It's never a good sign when the cop that pulls you over waits for backup before approaching your car, which is what happened. The cop shined his flashlight in my face as he asked who I was and what we were up to. Before long a couple of his buddies had pulled up behind him, and the three of us (me, Ross, and Candy) were pulled out of the car and separated.

The cop informed me he had pulled me over because I had a headlight out, but one thing had led to another. My inspection sticker had expired, and I had let it expire because my insurance had also expired. Nobody in the car was was wearing their seat belt. Eventually, the cop's eyes wandered until he saw the beer in the backseat. That's when hetold me he didn't see any way the three of us weren't going to jail.

Then things got worse.

While I was getting grilled in the passenger seat of the cop's car, Ross and this Candy girl were each getting the business from other cops. Oh, they were having a field day with us! The cop questioning me kept asking me about Candy and I kept explaining that I didn't know her. Then he would say something dickhead cops say like, "Oh, so you just drive around with girls you've never met before in your car?" and I would try to explain that, well, that's kind of what happened. I assumed Ross knew her, but he really didn't, either.

My friend Yoshi, who had been throwing the party, was one year younger than me. Ross was two, making him seventeen, and a minor. Eventually I was informed that Candy was only fifteen -- and a runaway. That's when the cops called everybody's parents and told me that there was a high probability that Candy's parents would be filing statutory rape charges against me. I was too scared shitless to tell if he was bluffing or not.

So, one dickhead cop called Candy's parents and told them that a nineteen year old man (me) had been driving their runaway daughter around with beer in his car, and that they needed to come pick her up. Then a different dickhead cop called Ross's parents, woke them up, and told them they needed to "come identify their son," which made them think he was dead. A few minutes later while I was still locked inside the police car trying not to cry, Candy's parents pulled up on one side and Ross's parents came screeching up on the other. Then everybody got out and started yelling and screaming and I buried my face in my hands because... well, felonies suck.

Somehow, I didn't go to jail that night. Instead, I got tickets for the headlight, the inspection sticker, the insurance, no seat belts, and a few other things. The cop also told me to "stay out of Yukon from now on," which is hilarious as that's where I had grown up, graduated, and where my family still lived. (It's where I live today, in fact.) I've never felt like a bad ass about much of anything, but I do like telling people that a cop once unofficially banned from my hometown.

[Part 4]

By the time I got to work the next day, my ex-girlfriend (a) already had a new boyfriend who (b) had been hired as a shift supervisor. He was a big dumb cowboy with way more muscles than brains. He even wore a cowboy hat to work, which everybody but me thought was adorable. He could have easily kicked my ass, a fact he mentioned to me 87 times the one day we worked together. He also told me he was going to kill me for "attempting to rape his girlfriend." All I could do was laugh. Funny thing was, I had always hated her last boyfriend because she once told me he had tried to rape her, too. The closest I ever got to raping her was letting her give me a hand job while I was driving down the interstate. That didn't seem to matter to ol' Tex. That day, that girl's cold eyes were filled with fire, and her lips still looked cute, even with a shit-eating grin across them. She may not have been book smart, but she was no dummy.

I gave my two-week's notice that night, but my name had already been scrubbed from the schedule so it didn't much matter. I tried to call Meg back and tell her what happened, but her dad told me she was out. The next day my ex's younger sister left half a dozen messages on my answering machine wanting to hook up, but I was all drama'd out by then.

Ten years ago, long after I was happily married, my wife and I attended Meg's wedding. Her husband is a nice guy and she got three or four great kids out of the deal.

I haven't seen Shane or anybody else who worked in that restaurant since.
"Jack Flack always escapes." -Davey Osborne

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Ice Cream Jonsey
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Re: Spring Break 1992 [48 Hours of Hell]

Post by Ice Cream Jonsey » Sun Mar 03, 2019 1:58 pm

First off, that was awesome.

You are an amazing person for giving two weeks notice to the guy that treated you like shit because you broke up with his daughter and didn't want to spend sixty hours a week managing a fucking pizza joint while you were in college.

You have inspired me to do one of these on how I got out of New York and into Colorado, which I hope to write up next chance I get.
the dark and gritty...Ice Cream Jonsey!

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AArdvark
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Re: Spring Break 1992 [48 Hours of Hell]

Post by AArdvark » Sun Mar 03, 2019 2:22 pm

You can't make stuff like that up.

Writing it down is even more awesome.

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Jizaboz
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Re: Spring Break 1992 [48 Hours of Hell]

Post by Jizaboz » Sun Mar 03, 2019 4:24 pm

Wow finally a story that beats my numerous close calls with the cops

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AArdvark
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Re: Spring Break 1992 [48 Hours of Hell]

Post by AArdvark » Sun Mar 03, 2019 5:20 pm

Mays is right, Lets just give Flack the 2019 MVP award now.

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Jizaboz
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Re: Spring Break 1992 [48 Hours of Hell]

Post by Jizaboz » Mon Mar 04, 2019 9:37 am

I also just realized that while you were out getting into real trouble that year.. a younger teenage me was getting in trouble at Fort Naughtytail instead of in real life.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spellcast ... ring_Break

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