A Day of Dougie: Them Folks Ain’t Right (Part 2 of 2)

Tossing Salt Presents:
A Day of Dougie
Them Folks Ain’t Right
(Part 2 of 2)
May 11, 2023
DougMaynard.com

Yesterday, I spoke of two encounters with two different people. Nothing too fancy, but two tales of being “internet famous” and a guy with blue hair. And I mentioned how there must be a full moon going on or just PCP in the water or something. And now, the journey continues with two more encounters, both of which took place this past Monday at the local establishment where I am employed and serve as a distributor of distilled spirits. Yeah, this was at the liquor store. So are you ready to hear some more?

It’s another very special edition of A Day of Dougie as I’ll now tell you about two encounters with two people who were, how shall I say it, assholes! Yeah, I went there and once I’ve explained all the details, you’ll understand why. It’s a Day of Dougie as we relive the memories, cause Them Folks Ain’t Right. Let’s do this.

Encounter 3:

This was not an encounter of mine, but instead of my coworker, who I’ll refer to as “G”. We’re both in the store at our registers and there are no customers in the store. I think I was checking my phone, but I heard G talking to someone. A guy had walked into the store and he’s not wearing a shirt. What the hell? Yeah, I know it’s not really a big deal. It’s hot outside, but anyone with any common sense knows that when you walk into a store, you put on a shirt first, right? Did I say common sense? I forget sometimes where I’m at. Let’s continue.

So he comes into the store and G tells him that he needs a shirt. So does he go back out and get a shirt out of the car? No, of course not. He wants to argue. It’s hot outside. He doesn’t live around here anymore. He’s on House Arrest. He didn’t know. Yeah, those are the barrage of excuses that he’s throwing out there because he lacks the common sense to put on a shirt before entering a store to make a purchase.

And I was just watching and listening, wondering how G would deal with this clown. His pants are sagging and his ass is hanging out and instead of having the decency to be a little embarrassed, he’s going on and on about being on house arrest and how he moved away and doesn’t live around here anymore. The two questions in my mind, hearing all of this, was that if he’s on house arrest, then why is he not at home and is here annoying us? And secondly, if he doesn’t live around here anymore, then why the hell is he even here? Go the hell home, pull up your pants, put on a shirt, call your probation officer, and quit ruining our lives.

I let G handle him because he had it under control and G took care of business. I think he did sell him a bottle, but I can’t say for sure. The dude was just an idiot. G told him as he left not to come back to our store without a shirt on or he won’t be getting shit. The clown looked at me as he walked out the door, proud of himself for being a moron, and I mentioned don’t come back unless he’s covered up. And there you go. G let me know after he left that he was one that they’ve had to tell repeatedly in the past to put on a shirt so he’s a repeat offender ass-clown. I didn’t know that or I would have stepped in and told him to leave immediately, but I’m just a part-timer now and I let G handle it and he did. Just the arrogance and stupidity of that entitled little dipshit. But that happened and that was just the start of the Monday Night adventures. Let’s move on to the other dweeby douche.

Encounter 4:

About an hour after the first moron, Bird Chest made his appearance, we had a couple come into the store. The boy, with pants sagging, the white wifebeater t-shirt hanging off him, and facial tattoos that looked like he wanted to be Mike Tyson, but looks more like Little Wayne tattoo artist went on a drunken binge on this guy’s face. Okay, they weren’t that bad, but the tattoos on the face, trying to look like a badass weren’t working. He just looked like a stupid idiot. Now, back to the story.

So Stupid Idiot comes into the store with his little girlfriend walking behind him. She’s quiet, not saying a word, and just being humble and timid as he’s playing music on his telephone, very loudly, and dancing around the store like a total goof. I could tell that G was wanting to say something, but he bit his tongue and headed to the back because he knew if he did, it would probably escalate quickly and Stupid Idiot would probably throw a tantrum and cause problems that neither of us wanted to deal with.

So Stupid Idiot and his girlfriend danced around the store for a minute or so. Well, he danced like a total clown while she kept her head down and mouth shut, probably knowing that if she did speak up, judging from the vibes I was getting, he would probably bust her in the face later or give her a spanking or whatever. I kept an eye on them both and I could tell he didn’t like that, but whatever. The clown grabbed a bottle and bee-bopped his way to the register.

First, I asked for his ID. He was obviously old enough to buy liquor, but when someone is an obvious tool, ID is asked for and required. I was hoping that he wouldn’t have any so I could refuse the sale, but he did pull out a State ID card, not for Motor Vehicle Operation. He was of age and pissed that I carded him, but whatever. He’ll be all right. And then I started to ring up his purchase. I told him to turn the radio, which was still very loud, down. I told him to turn the music down because we have a radio and don’t need to listen to his. The look on his face was epic. The look on her face was terror and then a blank, nothing to see here expression.

He mumbled something and was just glaring at me, but he did turn the phone off so it was quiet. And then Pinhead asked a question. “Do you make a lot here?”. I replied, “I make enough!”, and then he muttered that “You living dangerously!” And my reply was, “Yeah, whatever dude!”. If looks could kill. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead grabbed his bottle and stormed out with his little token college girl gravy train right behind him. He was pissed off and I didn’t care. He was just a disrespectful little prick and nothing more.

And there you go. G came back to the register area and told me that he had been watching and someone needs to beat that kid’s ass. I agreed, but we handled it and he was gone. It was just amazing to me how these little thug-wannabes act so badass in public, but when called out on it, just mumble and act like the little chickenshits that they are. I’m sure if he had any friends with him, it would have blown up and gotten crazy quickly, but since he was alone, he just bitched and mumbled a lot. I’m sure side-chick had to hear about it when they left how I “disrespected him” and how he “should’ve busted my ass”, but whatever, dude. No one cares that he’s a bad dancing, repeat felon, little bottom boy who was probably everyone’s favorite bitch while in prison. Don’t bring that attitude and shit into my store. I don’t want to hear it and don’t give a damn anymore. As Toby Keith once said, “I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m as good as I ever was!”. I’m a pissed-off old man who has a lot of stress and frustration going on in my life these days, just looking for a reason. I would rock an orange jumpsuit. Dipshit!

And there you go. That last story sounded better in my head, but you had to be there. You would have wanted to bust that boy in the face with a steel bar too, but I was a professional and handled things quickly and efficiently and all is good. I hate dealing with smart-ass idiots sometimes though. I’m getting too old for this shit.

Now let’s wrap things up. My thanks for reading. Yada-yada-yada. Questions, comments, and thoughts are welcome and appreciated. Take care and be well. Now, I have to go get my car inspected. Have a great day and thanks for making a Day of Dougie part of it. I’ll see you guys later.

Ubuntu!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.