My Job, My Hell...

[TheLastRifleMan]

I guess I didn't write about this one. Maybe not here, on this thread, at least.

Okay, here goes:

It was the summer of my 18th year, the kind of summer most look back upon with fond memories of sleeping in late after partying all night, trips to the local lake beaches with friends to chase girls and perhaps find that magical errant six pack of brewskis sitting unattended and nights full of driving 15 year old cars down the express way as fast as they would go, radio blaring, and giving us headaches faster then the Mountain Dew slurpees we were chugging to stay cool...

Yes, those were the days. I wish I could remember those times but alas, I cannot. Why? I simply did not do those things to develop memories like those. Being a serious minded youth and thinking about higher education and having parents who most certainly did not have the means of paying for such endeavors, I found myself with a part time job just before graduation. The job was busboy/waiter/dishwasher at the local branch of a nation wide steakhouse chain. And I can most certainly tell you that working in the back of a steakhouse in the so called dog days of summer, dressed in a polyester uniform 25 years out of date was as enjoyable as an enema and smelled worse.

Being low man on the gallows meant I got the night shift and weekends or filled in whenever someone had time off. This was one of those nights where I just knew my buds were out joyriding, drinking copious amounts of pop (we were all pretty much unable to secure alcohol in my close knit circle), sneaking in to the local theater and ogling girls, all without poor young LastRifleBoy, who knew that someday, by the sweat of his brow and prowess of his muscle would achieve success. Little did I know that life aims low when she decides to give you that wake up kick. And it was coming for me and right soon!

This night was the second night our new assistant manager was in charge of closing the place down. The procedures we known by all of the employees and the four underpaid workers scheduled that night were engaged in closing and wanted to get out of the place as fast as humanly possible, if just to escape the humid broil and stink of the place. Our regular dishwasher had cut his hand in a bar fight (I think you get more the 7 years bad luck if you punch out the mirror over the bar) so I was elected to take his place and I had started the final load of dishes, cookware, etc. through the washing machine and had the newbie boss unlock the back door so I could take out trash and garbage (yes, there is a difference! One is organic and the other ain't!). It was SOP the keep the rear doors locked after business hours so she unlocked the door, said she was counting receipts and would be back in ten. I told her it would be enough time and off she goes and I start hauling 55 gallon trash cans of refuse to the dumpster. After five loads it was back inside for a cherry coke (drinks were at least free for us), put the utensils in their proper place, wipe down and polish the stainless sinks, mop the floor and off I go to prepare to do it all over again tomorrow.

About 7 or 8 minutes goes by and I am so wrapped up in what I am doing I totally forget the door being unlocked. That is until I have my back turned to it while picking up a tray of brown plastic drink glasses stamped "Coke!" I hear the door open since it squeaked terribly from all the moisture and other various dishroom grunge that had accumilated on the automatic closing mechanism. I turn just in time to see a gun pointed at me. Not just any gun, no sir! It's a stainless revolver, heavy barrel with left hand rifling, making it a Smith, and it's loaded with JHP's and one of these messengers of certain death has just rotated into battery with the barrel with a well lubed yet solid click. Yes, dear and gentle readers, he was that close.

The revolver is held in the hands of a sweating man in what is obviously a police uniform, although I can't identify what agency because my attention is more on the gun and the trigger finger which seems to be exerting more and more pressure as the microseconds tick by. The barrel quivers not a millimeter and I am wondering who in the hell this joker is and how did he get the drop on me! I am not scared, not paralyzed with fright or dumbstruck. I am getting generally and honestly pissed off. This surprises and excites me and I don't know why, but I am just about ready to give this stupid idiot a verbal lashing.

"ARE YOU BEING ROBBED?!" he screams at me in a load voice.
"WTF are you talking about!" I yell back, no inflection intended to make it sounds like a question. The anger was putting the sound of command into my voice and I liked it.
"Are you being robbed?" he now says in a calmer voice. The gun has not wavered from my forehead an iota.
"Put the god damned gun down and I'll FIND OUT!" I reply, the last two words torn from my throat by pure scarlet rage.
He lowers the revolver, takes one look at me, then to the swinging doors leading out into the dining room and he then exits in a hurry. I follow, only to discover two township police officers and one massive State Trooper who must be at least 8 feet tall, all standing in the dining area, talking to a very scared waitress, a generally apothetic fry cook and the newbie manager. The officer who came in nearly guns a blazing, a county sheriff's deputy, holsters his piece and I get a good look at it and commit it to memory. He has eased down the hammer at some point, for which I am glad. I know what I saw, I KNOW what I heard. He popped open the door, saw me and thumbed back the hammer! Now I realize the source of my anger. If I had startled him or made what he had perceived as a false move, I would really have been a LastRifleMan! Dead last!

A small confabulation takes place and the issue is quickly resolved. It seems the newbie manager opened the safe to count the receipts for the day and neglected to call the alarm company. This had to be done every time the safe was opened in order to prevent a silent alarm from tripping and sending the troops in, so to speak.

The next day I was grilled by the general manager as to what happened. I did not tell him about nearly getting my head blown off and I found out later I was not held responsible for any part in the affair.

About a year later, I ended up with a used S&W revolver. They were once used by the county sheriff's deputies until Glock 17's replaced them and the old six guns were sold of for surplus cheap. A friend of mine had bought six of them and wanted to know if I was interested. Hell yes, I said.

I recognized the revolver instantly. One does not tend to forget the appearance of a firearm that was pointed at you!

I bought it. Still have it.

[areswithguns]

Dude..that was freaky close.

[Polley]

Is it bad if I thought you, TLR, purchasing that same handgun later was one of the most, if not the most, interesting part of that already-epic story?

[TheLastRifleMan]

Is it bad if I thought you, TLR, purchasing that same handgun later was one of the most, if not the most, interesting part of that already-epic story?

Nope, not at all! Same model, but not the same exact gun, I am sure. My buddy was a dealer and bought five model 65-2'd and two later model 65-3's. All had some cosmetic issues but mechanically all were solid as a rock. Mine must had had an S&W trained gunsmith work the trigger. It's oiled glass smooth but was not lightened one bit. My Dad has it now actually so it's still in the family and I do shoot it on occasion. I generally shoot pistols a lot better them him but that gun was made form him, it seems. He can hit thumb tacks holding up targets at 15 yards or so with it.

Glad you guys enjoyed the story!

[Laager]

I recognized the revolver instantly. One does not tend to forget the appearance of a firearm that was pointed at you!

I bought it. Still have it.

You are 100% correct about that..........I was at the scene of an armed robbery once.....whooooeeeeee.

Funny how things work out sometimes, just glad everything worked out in the end.

[Laager]

Okay this one is from my lunch time converstation with the boy my parents adopted a few years ago. Now, the boy isn't a bad kid, but he has his life and the rest of the family has there's. He will be in 12th grade this year and my parents are dreaming of him going off to college.

The rest of us (those still living in town or close by) as well as the ones that only visit every once in awhile have a different view on exactly where this future brain surgeon will end up.

So here we go............My Father and Mother call Lil to see if we would like to go to lunch with them and Ben........Ben recently was hired (third job so far) as at a local motel to help clean the rooms. His first job was at a yogut shop, they fired him when he did not show up for work.....(he was amazed), his second job lasted about three minutes (Janitor) before he was fired.

He did not even get out of the interview chair, he was hired, then the guy asked him a question about his last job and then he was fired.

Lil says sure.......so off we go.

I would like to point out that my Mother is a vegan and my Father is not and they always say it does not matter where they eat. I beg to differ, since they asked Lil and she asked me I said the local steak place.

We went to Applebee's.

So here we are sitting down and Ben walks up and slides in next to Father.

Me: Ben, what the heck happend to you?

ben: Huh?

Me: Your arms, they are all red and inflamed looking. What happened?

Ben: Oh, that....well I was cleaning a bathroom and we work with this chemical and I got some on me...it burns you if you get it on you. Especially if you breathe it in.

Father and Mother: You need to be careful, those chemicals can be dangerous.

Lil: (Once a Public Health Tech always a PHT) - Chemicals? What kind of chemcials? Did they give you any training and PPE? Are you using the PPE (Personal Protective Equipment).

Ben: I don't reall know.......its called and he spells it out........A.C.I.D.

Me: You mean acid? it's acid?

Ben: I don't know what it is, it says and he spells it out again A.C.I.D. on the bottle.

Me: Sweet Mother of God....it's a 710 incident.

Lil kicked me under the seat.....

Mother: What's a 710 incident.

Lil pinched me (hard)...........and changed the subject.

My Father just looked down like he was really working hard on his bowl of corn chowder.......like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

How sad that the boy makes decent grades in High School................

I'd also like to point out that a few weeks ago Mother asked me if I thought he would do well on the ASVAB test (for entrance into the Military).......

[Greg Focker]

What is a 710 incident?

[Laager]

It's a joke that went around the email circuit.....

710

A few days ago I was having some work done at my local garage. A blonde came in and asked for a seven-hundred-ten. We all looked at each other and another customer asked, "What is a seven-hundred-ten?"

She replied, "You know, the little piece in the middle of the engine, I have lost it and need a new one." She replied that she did not know exactly what it was, but this piece had always been there.

The mechanic gave her a piece of paper and a pen and asked her to draw what the piece looked like. She drew a circle and in the middle of it wrote 710.

He then took her over to another car which had its hood up and asked "Is there a 710 on this car?"

She pointed and said, "Of course, its right there."

This is what she pointed to...

[areswithguns]

Hahaha lol nice one laager.

[Jsimmonsgr]

OK this one is so bad I had to post it........

So I make my living as a gunsmith, having worked security for so many years I finally grew tired of the crap and decided to do what i enjoy.
I work my gunsmithing business out of a pawn shop in mesa, this leads to some interesting moments at work........

1. Last tuesday we had a lady walk into the store with a rubbermaid bin that had at least 50 sex toys in it. She wanted to know what kind of a loan she could take on her toys.

2. same day we had a fella walk in and place at least 250 porn dvds on the counter and ask us to buy them all for $50.

3. About a month ago a different fella tried to get a loan on $500 worth of meth and shrooms, he was very very adamant that he would return.

[Mr_Sheesh]

Dang... Those had to be some of those "Wow. Just Wow." days at work. The things some people do, just boggles the mind.

[Laager]

Jsimmonsgr.......wow......all I can think of is wow...........lol.

So (just for infomational reasons) whats the going pawn on toys and porn dvds?

You know what they say, one persons junk is another's treasure......

[Viper shtf]

Dude... Wait, what?!

[MasterMaker]

If the lady with the toys was hot, my mind automatically goes to a place of "let's see what happens if we give her the stuff from customer 2 and 3............."

[Jsimmonsgr]

If the lady with the toys was hot, my mind automatically goes to a place of "let's see what happens if we give her the stuff from customer 2 and 3............."

to answer you question Laager I have no idea why people bring us this crap, its just one of the joys of the pawn biz.

As far as the comment about how the chick looked, this pic was the closest I could get and it is still WAY better looking than the thing that walked in.

[Jsimmonsgr]

Hell we had a fella today that walked in, wandered around muttering to himself and then started to yell at people.
Me: Can I help you sir?
Guy: HWAUUGUGUAHAHAHAHAHAH BERBLE BERBLE GUINIESSSS!!! AWAHAHAH BOBOBOBOBOBOBOBOBOBBOBOBOB UUHHHHHRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH MPHMMPMHMHPMHPMHPMHPMHPMH!
Me: umm Get the Fuck out of MY STORE!
Guy: mhnmhnhmhnmhmhnmnhmn urk HUUUURRK UUUURRP ( followed by.....) SPLAT!!! Thud....... thpppppppppphhhhhhhhhhh.

Now I have vomit and diarrhea on my floor.

Thank god for FNGs....

[Viper shtf]

What. The. Fuck.

[Jsimmonsgr]

Welcome to the pawn biz... Screw pawn stars this is the real deal..

[jamoni]

Went to get financial aid packet squared away at school yesterday. Guy and gal go outside to get fucked up on substance of choice. (crack?)
Anyway, guy comes in, flips out, starts screaming at random, tells everybody to "LOOK AT IT!!!" And is shortly arrested.
In the financial aid office.
Also, after 3 wasted hours, found out I wasn't eligible for aid and I had to pay cash.

[Polley]

Jsimmonsgr.......wow......all I can think of is wow...........lol.

So (just for infomational reasons) whats the going pawn on toys and porn dvds?

You know what they say, one persons junk is another's treasure......

Maybe, but I don't want my future treasure to have been in someone else's junk.

[silentpoet]

I got to look right in the brown eye a 99 and a half year old asshole tonight. Our oldest resident requested my help, not the female aide who was on duty with me. I knew I was in for a treat. He is still pretty active and smart. He used to be some sort of chemical engineer. But that doesn't mean I want to look him in the nether regions. I got to apply some cream to an area of northern crack.

I am good at my job. I am very good with the elderly. Just not sure looking right at assholes is what I wanted to do with my life.

[Resolute]

At least you didn't have to disimpact him Been there!

[Laager]

silentpoet - well there are a few ways you can look at this...... ...but I'd go with he wanted the best and asked for you or it could have just been he would rather have a male do it than a female......as odd as that sounds.

Many years ago I turned down a female doctor once and hobbled back to the Company Medics instead, but that's just me.

[Viper shtf]

I may have some stories for this thread soon, I just got hired as a night watchman for a car leasing place.