Tuesday, July 14, 2009

How I Spent My Vacation From Vacation, Part B

Definitely my favorite item we sold

View from the stand

The stand on the last day

Trolling Koreans was fun. My buddy David from the Seoul era worked with me for a couple of days, so we were jazzed any time Koreans came by and tried to switch the pod to a K-pop song whenever possible. A Korean family came by and I put on a Super Junior song. They were amazed - all but one of them seemed to only speak Korean. The guy who spoke English told me that he went to a K-pop show in Baltimore (which I was unaware of, or would have considered going) and said that the audience wasn’t as Korean as he thought it would be, it was largely “foreigners.” Yep, even in ‘merica, non-Koreans are foreigners.

On the 4th proper, a kid came by and asked if we were hiring. Yeah, you know, that Labor Day fireworks rush is coming up.

I had a kid attempting to sell illegal fireworks in front of my stand on the 4th. He held up a big roll of Black Cats to a customer that I was talking to. I kept telling him to leave, and he wouldn’t, so I actually had to call the cops, but of course he was gone by then. Fucking balls on this kid. Everybody else that I kicked out (usually underage kids that can’t buy) left right away, but this kid kept hanging around.

Probably my longest anecdote. I had to hire helpers, and because two of the people who said they would help flaked out (including Cree, big surprise) I got some random workers that I didn’t know. The one who worked with me for the longest, 4 days, was this 19 year old girl. Her face was meh, but she had the winning combination of a decent body and very little clothing.

After working with her for a day or so, I was kind of into her. On our first day, she locked her keys in her car, and I attempted to jimmy it open for her (with a long sparkler and a box cutter), though that’s easier said than done on these newfangled cars, so she had to call a locksmith. Then, this massive storm came through, and we had to abandon the stand and hang out in the nearby bike shop. So now, I’m dealing with this soaking wet girl in an extremely short skirt in an intense situation.

I chatted with her some, of course, on that first day and the next, but she was kind of quiet, so I found myself inventing this whole back story for her. I’m fairly certain that this is because of the girl situation that I’m in now. I never talk to any girls ever. As noted, there were no girls coming to the stand. The longest conversation I’ve had with a girl in the last 3 months or so has been exclusively in retail situations, so under 2 minutes. Thus, I’m probably predisposed to dig any girl that’s moderately presentable. I’m that isolated. I suppose it’s the downside of avoiding work for 6 months.

Now, I presume most people are familiar with the concept of “sneaky hot.” A girl who at first glance looks bland becomes interesting and desirable after working/being in close quarters with after a certain period. Well, this girl was the opposite of that, a term that really needs a name. After a day and a half of working with her, I was into her and scheming moves. After 4 days of working with her, I was completely sick of her shit and didn’t even find her cute anymore, and when she called in sick on the fifth day I was happy about it.

Overall, selling fireworks was fun, even though customers got in the way sometimes. However, I once came across an unimaginably horrible experience - worse than any customer antics. Near the stand was an Italian restaurant with outdoor seating and some sort of party deck in front. On the second Saturday that I worked, this deck was given over too... outdoor karaoke. Like a rat in a cage, I had nowhere to flee as I listened to some 8 year old kid sing No Doubt’s “Don’t Speak.” Maybe that’s something that Korea has right. Karaoke should never be thrust upon the ears of an innocent bystander, particularly a captive one.

1 comment:

already left town said...

a) watch what you say about cree on here... he is reading...
b) 19 year olds? dude, leave them for stong you dirty old man...