5:45am******************Pick up THE CASHIER----get to the store as early as possible***** before 6am..
we always do, park the car, hurry up****turn on the lights, check the ice and propane numbers and then go, roust the sleeping wino, he will sing out like this"&**($@##^AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!! cannot have a cigarette, then they can, shit...how can you say no to a guy bumming a smoke??? huh?? Huh???*************Cooling off, check the dumpster enclosure, see what is what*****sound the all clear, turn in the numbers, get the music or the podcast in the ears, I have to hear both customers and Leo Kottke*****
DO NOT SIT DOWN.
DO NOT SIT DOWN
DO NOT SIT DOWN
This is my morning chanting, it's reverent enough, topical, and real, when I sit, the physics of bodies in motion are applying themselves to me, expressing all over my body, I gotta keep moving, it sucks to get back up and everyone sees me struggle, if they smell blood, the wise-ass cashiers, customers who are now friends, kids, they say shit to me like "You need a hand, pops?"they might say"move it, pops." or, "Look, we have hired the handicapped," the guy I almost always work with is of the Greek Tribe, he cannot control himself and, he doesn't want to either. He doesn't even know what thinking is, since that is true, I can play him, tell him it is anything, "Jesus Christ Stavros, go back to school, dude, learn another thing so you'll know two of them." When I say shit like that to him, be foams a little, we have walkie-talkies and he is not careful with his messages sometimes, shocking nice people in their cars who just want some gas.
He got vaccinated and wore his mask and he kept his distance while he worked behind his screen, ... he wants to know nothing all the time and he believes nothing anyone says,... anything, we are all humps and he just wants to get a raise and go home and lord it over his GTA pals, Whiskey and Taco Bell
10 O CLOCK, TIME FOR SOME MEDICINE, ok, what's it going to be...Kombucha, 20 oz....yahoo, what else...in the box in the back of my car.... ok...enough of that, pump that gas, clean that lot, watch the money, that's what he wants and he pays me to get it and keep it. I am good at that, I used to get burned at the pump occasionally but, no more...I am on it. We are on it.
When we get there, every single time, we know, it is innate knowledge.
Part of the job...
The thing, a big event, could be good or it could be bad, no telling until it gets out and makes its move, the thing is...coming ..and coming soon,...the thing of the day is coming, when and how is not known or understood by anyone just yet, the form and exact substance of the thing, the exactness in the science of it is probable, it is coming, it is as inevitable as the next presidential Elections being crooked in Texas but, no one knows when or what it will appear in or as and, it may well come and go without you ever seeing or sensing it so, whatta ya do NOW, Dude... but it will get there, recognized or not, it will pass through
Leaving a mark, sometimes a scar
and do not try to steal from us because we are watching, cameras every goddam where. I do not like it and they do not care that I don't and I really dislike that, so..., what I really dislike is how used to it I am now, I ignore them making me a target for psychology studies of "old guys trying to keep up." Now, on my way out to the dumpster enclosure with some kind of crap that goes out there, I perk up, it is a good time for me to medicate, out of sight and smell range, put on the sunglasses and go redden the whites of my eyes by filling my lungs with powerful smoke, these work-related activities get me out of sight for as long as I need to get my issues with my joints handled by pipe once I am in there, I can see out but they can't see in, you know what goes on back there..my Mexican pals from the "used car lot" next door, the dudes from the Carneceria behind us with their vaunted Corona, the body and fender men are all Modelo men.
The Mota is evident while we are in there, stashed well when we leave, a little Anarcho outpost, the Mexican guys are Catholics and have saint candles they use. I got two with ghouls on them because they look like a Dead album cover and they lift curses and bring you luck. All of them do that, there are a lot of them and you can get the same thing from any of them, but I think you may need a priest for forgiveness 100%.
I remember now, we used to light candles all the time in there, the church of Roman Catholicism has special candle lighting you can do to send out a devotion or something if you want. I think you put money in a slot next to the candle table and they probably still take checks.
....The tall guy? That may be my grandfather who mined borax in the desert with Mexican guys when he got there from Ireland. Then, after working in the mine there, for a while, and organizing a union, he met the mine owner's daughter and ran off with her, ran off with my grandmother to, yep, San Francisco. I like that he was an old guy who smoked, too. "It's not my fault, it's the genes....."
And now, I have to go to work.......
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