Okay, the truth be told, this isnt my day job. Actually, truth be told, I dont have a day job, at least not in the strictest sense of the word. My father says that Im wasting my life and sometimes I have to wonder how right he is. I mean, where is the sense in being the graveyard register-jockey at the local 7-Eleven (its on the corner of Parker and Wade, just next to the 31 Flavors, so if youre in the neighborhood some night, stop in) when the lucrative world of, oh, I dont know, camel-shaving could be paving a road to my door. Sometimes I have to wonder about my father. I mean, I know that he wants me to do well, but what does he expect? Im only twenty-two years old, Im having to hold down a full time job, no matter how menial it is sometimes (Try scrubbing one of the hot dog rotisseries some timeactually, its easy, you wash em with Sprite and then water, and they get shiny. This is why I no longer drink Sprite. The coffee urns on the other hand are a bear.), and I take morning classes at Montclair Community College.
Okay, one morning class. You try taking classes after working an eight-hour shift at a convenience store and tell me how much you retain. I have to pay for these things myself, so its not like I want to waste money on three Ds and a C when I can be getting a B. Id kill for a B.
Speaking of which, there is a really hot girl in my Metaphor and Evangelism in the Works of Beatrix Potter class. (I overslept on registration day and I had to take something or else I would have lost my student status and Ive got to admit, its nice getting into the movies for half-price.) Her name is Fuschia. Dont worry, I didnt ask her out. Ive had enough trouble in my life lately with women and while I both want to break my track record and would like to break my track record with a woman who seems bright, funny and most of all looks really nice in a crimson dress, I honestly dont feel like continuing my track record with a woman who seems bright, funny and looks nice in a crimson dress.
I especially dont want to have to listen to Deacon and Buster rag on me that I fell for a woman taking Metaphor and Evangelism in the Works of Beatrix Potter and that I should have seen that as a sure sign of doom from the very beginning. She does seem to like me though, although that could also be because Im the most normal seeming of the rest of the people taking the class, so who knows? Maybe I can take her to the movies on my student discount.
Anyway, speaking of Deacon and Buster, this reminds me that Ive been promising a full report about BusterCon 2002 in all of its BusterConnic glory. So without further adieu, I bring to you Buster . . . Con . . . 2002!
I hear that it was very nice.
Okay, the story behind this is that Tom Skeeter Holmes, whos the swing shift guy at my 7-Eleven, eloped with Brandi Sue Siguurdsen on July 10th which made both Brandi Sues father, Harold happy as could be from what Ive heard (my father golfs with him), not only because Brandi Sue is now out from under his roof (thus saving him a fortune in electric, phone and, most importantly, grocery bills) but also because he doesnt have to worry about footing the bill on the wedding, although most of us at the store are pretty sure that in a couple of months Skeeter will be working at Siguurdsen Hardware making a substantial amount more than he does at the 7-Eleven. Having just eloped, Skeeter took his vacation at the last minute. The net result of this, with Jack, the manager, and Jason, the assistant manager both having plans for the weekend, it fell to the low man on the totem pole, namely me, to work the double shifts over the very same weekend that we were to have BusterCon.
Dont get me wrong, I did participate to a point, but I think that driving down to the Holiday Inn just after work on both Saturday and Sunday and setting up the tables before dragging my exhausted carcass home to bed really counts much in the way of participation. Buster ended up running my Paranoia adventure for me, so its not like there was any holes in the festivities.
I keep looking at the bright side. I got a lot of overtime for the whole thing. I didnt have to put up with Carol whom I understand got any number of digs in on me over the entirety of the weekend. And the Wednesday afterwards, both Deacon and Buster took me to Clancys for fish and chips and Guinness, their treat, where they gave me a check of over a hundred dollars for the sale of all of those copies of Enemies and Allies that I had. Apparently some guy stopped in, paid his cover fee, sat in on one game, checked out both the Rhino table and the Montclair Hobbies table, then stopped at the table Deacons little brother, Stuie was watching where he bought every single copy. Yeah, I know, the whole thing sounds fishy to me too, but for a hundred dollars on what looked to be a wasted investment, I really dont want to know the truth.
Im just going to chalk one up for the little guy.