C'est la Vie

Well, went to work and actually worked an extra hour and fifteen minutes, so no-one was mad because I was late. Sasha didn't show up for work in the liquor department, so I spent an hour in there so that Catherine could take her meal break and work Sasha's shift. I can't believe all these people who don't show up for work! I'm not upset about it, because it gives me 40 hours a week, when I pick up their shifts. Hey, I'm homeless: what the hell else do I have to do all day? My schedule is eminently flexible. If I stay late, it's a few more hours of air conditioning (or heating ... it is cold out tonight!) I get to enjoy, with indoor plumbing and food and drink available, provided I have enough money to pay for it.
Sure enough, I had a fucking thief come in! I hate fucking thieves! I mean, I am as poor as any of these guys: I don't even have a place to live, and I don't fucking steal! These lousy ratfucking scumbags just take whatever they want, whenever they want it. I don't care if the stuff they steal doesn't belong to me, the very fact that they take it chaps my ass!

This was a typical one. He was black, forty-something, unshaven and smelly, with a huge beer gut and a stained baseball cap. He was riding a ragged out cheap-ass trail bike. He stuffed two bottles of Absolut Peach in his pants and started out the door. I stopped him and said, “You want to give me back my vodka before you leave?” He said, “What vodka?” I said, “The fucking vodka hanging out of your fucking pants, you fucking moron!”
He pushed past me and went outside. I called for security and followed him outside, where he proceeded to mount his bike (next time, I'm commandeering the bike!). He said, “You can't touch me: it's illegal!” I laughed at him and said, “You fucking ass! Stealing our vodka is what's illegal!” He said, “I come in here like this.” I said, “I saw you steal it, you fat, lying sack of shit!”
Unfortunately, he rode away before management showed up, and I am strictly not allowed to detain shoplifters, or I could lose my job. Apparently, Gardeshia (who used to work in liquor, but has moved on to a better job) used to bust him all the time, and the only time he would come in was when her car wasn't in the lot. She used to stop shoplifters all the time and get the stuff back from them, too, but I know I couldn't get away with it: I am too male and too white. One of these days, though, if there are no witnesses, and we are not in sight of a security camera ... hey: it would be his word against mine.

So, tonight, I made it to Serrano's. Unfortunately, the WiFi is down, and I can't get a good enough signal from The Chimes, next door, to keep a connection, so I'm writing this in OpenOffice, and I'll blog it tomorrow on the way to work, probably at CC's. There are a few good things: half-price margaritas (I'm on number two), guacamole, and a table full of fresh chicken, right next to me. One is the sweetest little thing, in a black hoodie, with honey-blond hair and soft brown eyes. Yum. His buddy in the orange ball cap ain't bad, either.
Sunday, Travis told me that he was lacking only Alaska and Hawaii to complete his State Quarters collection. Today, I got an Alaska quarter in change, so I texted him and asked if he'd trade me the use of his shower tomorrow for it. He hasn't gotten back to me. I am hoping he will, so I can get a shower before work. I hate going around dirty, and hotel day isn't until Thursday. I am going to try to hold myself down to one hotel day a week: I'll never save any money, otherwise. Fresh sheets, AC, TV and a shower are so alluring, though. It's so hard to resist, especially when I haven't had a shower in days, and my neck hurts from sleeping on the plywood at the PH. I'm naming the rat “Dick”, BTW, in honor of our (soon to be ex-!) VP. I'm probably insulting him (the rat, I mean).
Just found out it is not half-price margaritas tonight ... good thing, before I ordered another one and overspent my budget. As it is, I am only going to leave the waiter a dollar tip, which makes me feel bad, but I am in here a lot, and the next time he waits on me, I will tip him double. Maybe I can borrow $20 from Travis tomorrow. A shower would be a good thing, too. It may be Thursday before I can get online again. Oh, well, C'est la vie.