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He's Heavy, Alright. And He's Not My Brother!
mood: 
indifferent
indifferentmusic: Earworm of the Day: Holiday - Green Day
Last week, he shown up where I work smelling like he fell into a stagnant vat of alcohol then stumbled into a burning building. Yeah, you get the point...he stunk! Thankfully(?) I wasn't near the front end of the store when he staggered in so I didn't see him at that time. He wandered off into the men's restroom before I was nearly cursed with his presence in front of me. I guess it didn't matter because when I did go up front I had to ask one of my co-workers what on earth that god-awful stench was. I was warned that there was some drunkard in the restroom at that time, and we-as in any person working that has a manager title- may want to be on guard. My co-worker said that he was able to hear him talking...more like arguing...with himself and with this person as drunk as he was, who knows what could have happened.
Here is where I made my mistake. With the knowledge that a potential disturbance was in the building I thought it was best to kind of hang out near the front of the store, you know, close to the telephone just in case we would have needed officer assistance in escorting this man out of the building. Little did I know who exactly our tipsy (hooboy, is that an understatement or what???) fellow was.
I was at the customer service counter selling a lottery ticket to a kindly old lady when I heard incoherent babbling coming my way from the breakroom (where the rest rooms are located). I looked up and first thought was "Oh F**K! This is the last person on earth I wanted to see!" Alright, let me be completely honest with you, I wouldn't want to see him even if he was the last person on earth! I think I would rather be completely and totally alone than to share a planet with him. As of now, I have no choice in the matter. Even though I would be doing the whole world a favour by putting him out of our misery, it is still considered illegal.
Anyhow, no matter how much ducking behind the counter I tried to do, I was still spotted. Luckily, he was heading out the door at the time so all he did was made sure that not only I heard him but the rest of the people who were at the front end of the store got a listen. He slurred "I've got eight months, and it's terminal. Nice knowing you" over his shoulder as he made his way out the door.
Naturally all that had earned me some funny looks and awkward questions. Namely the question "is that your brother?" I need to make up some cards that say something to the effect of "no, not any longer" with a brief explanation as to why that is. Whenever someone asks me this, I don't have to say a word. Just hand them a card and hope that it is enough of an answer. Whether this is right or wrong makes no difference to me, because I feel no guilt in the way I feel about this man. Now that did feel wrong calling him a man, because in no way do I see him that way, but until they come up with an appropriate term for a waste of skin like he is, I will have to use it. If there is a term for him, somebody out there, please enlighten me.
Oh and the above story gets even better! After he was gone, nobody was truly brave enough to go into the restroom for any reason because the gods only knew what they would find. After all, the co-worker who warned me in the first place also said that he could hear the sot hacking and coughing in there. Eventually, one of our boys had to use the facilities and they simply couldn't use the ladies room like some of the others were doing due to it being occupied, so in he went. The good news is there wasn't a mess allover the floor or the seat as was suspected. The bad news is, nobody really wants to pick up used women's panties off of the floor no matter how lacy they were..especially when worn by another male. Not that I give a damn as to what a person chooses to wear for undergarments, it's just that nobody else wants to know much less have to pick up off the floor.
The next day, I find a note attached to my time card from our office manager telling me that my "brother" called and that he has psoriasis over 80% of his body and that they can turn cancerous. Oh and that he has liver damage as well. No kidding? I would have never guessed! Once again, I don't know why he can't get it through his thick and muddled skull that I don't give a goddamn about him anymore. He has been told that I could care less if he lived or died. When I said I was done with him, I meant it!
Two days later, one of our regular customers had to tell me more of the drunkard's antics, about how he stole from him and how he had to call the cops to have him removed from the premises. I found out that he had the snot beat out of him and that he was taking some sort of dope (now this is something I don't condone for anybody. More about that, later) and that he is also leaning on the queer side. Hell, I knew he was bisexual. Anybody meeting him for the first time would have to be completely blind and deaf not to figure that one out.
Anyhow, I hope that I don't have to hear anymore about him for another six more months or however long it has been since I last heard about him.
Now before anybody gets the wrong idea on where I stand, I have said it once and I will say it again: to each their own. What a person does on their free time is nobody else's business but their own. I may not be fond of all out drunks (I am not talking about the occasional drinker who gets bombed once in a while - just to make that loud and clear) but who am I to judge what they do. Even those who use illegal drugs, I don't condone that in any way, like I had just said, but what they do on their own is none of my business. It's just that if a person is going to get that bombed, why can't they stay home? Then again, in this case, there isn't a time when he is sober. There is a snowball's chance in hell that would ever happen with him. There are very big reasons as to why I feel this way about him and I think I had mentioned it in a different post. I can't remember, but really, it should be obvious why I want nothing more to do with him. I would just like to know how I could get everybody to know that I do not claim him as a sibling, not even a half sibling. Better yet, how do we convince him of the same? I guess we don't otherwise he would have gotten the picture way back when when I told him so. It is to laugh...or perhaps even cry at. Depends on where you stand.
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