The day before yesterday, something that looked very, very much like diarrhea exploded out of the back of the dry cleaning machine. It was just used chemicals, but the color and consistency… it was far more hilarious than it probably should have been. I have nothing to do with the dry cleaning machine, being primarily concerned with the customer end of things, so I didn’t have to deal with it. Yesterday the boss ran around frantically working on getting the machine back up and running, while I got to have the slowest day ever. It was fairly awesome; I got most of the remainder of chapter 16 written (I have finished this chapter just now), and relaxed happily.
Another work story I have that I keep forgetting to write down: one day this guy came in and started looking around like a crazy madman. Finally he approached the counter and fixed his insane eyes upon me, and opened the conversation with, “Michael Jackson!”
Now, as some may know, I am extremely fond of Michael Jackson, and it’s rare that a day goes by without some thought of Michael Jackson crossing my mind. I was not, however, thinking of Michael Jackson at that moment, as there was nothing in the vicinity to inspire thought on such a subject, and (as is my habit when at work alone) I had turned off the radio. So I wasn’t entirely sure what to say.
“Have you been following that?” he said.
Assuming he meant the case with the doctor, and glad to have found a way into the conversation even if it wasn’t what I could call a particularly sensible conversation, I informed him that I hadn’t been following that and asked if there were any updates.
“They’re saying that doctor killed him,” he told me scornfully. “Ain’t no doctor killed Michael Jackson; Michael Jackson killed Michael Jackson.”
“Well, he was crazy,” I said in an attempt to hide the fact that I only partially agreed. “I mean, I loved his music, but…”
“How’s a guy got the knowledge to write all those songs but doesn’t know not to take a bunch of pills?” said my visitor.
“Well,” I said again, “he was crazy…”
And at this point the guy left the store and got back into his car. It was a fabulous experience. I kinda feel like starting conversations with strangers by announcing, “Michael Jackson!” from now on.