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Working that shit 9 to 5

Lizzie is a working girl.

Correction, Lizzie WAS a working girl. (And if you are unsure of the meaning of the term “Working girl”, take a second and google it. Otherwise, a lot of this makes no sense.)

I was sitting in one of my favorite Starbucks near my house.

It’s one of the larger Starbucks. About a dozen small tables, and about another dozen barstool with a long shelf spots.

But the busiest section is a 15’ long chain of tables. Holds about 20 people and is always full.

I am at the big table and the crowd is perfect. 

A few odd personalities to write about, but everyone being quiet and doing their own thing.

And then Lizzie sat down. 

“My name is Lizzie.” She looked straight ahead as she spoke smiling. (Typically, when someone says anything beyond “Are you in line?” Or “Are you using that chair?”, there is usually a pitch for money not far behind.)

Lizzie was one a very pretty young lady. Emphasis on the word WAS. Life and it appears to be drugs have aged her fast. There is a tweaker vibe that surrounds her like one of those weighted blankets. Heavy, constricting.

No one said anything. 

“I used to do drugs and escort, but I don’t do any of that anymore. I am sober and trying to get my life together.”

And, no one said anything. (Basically the same protocol as a bear coming into camp but without the falling to the ground to play dead. We all just sat there, playing dead and avoiding eye contact.) 

She went on to tell all of us everything she is up to in her efforts to stay sober.

It suddenly occurred to me that Lizzie is full of shit and tweaking as we speak.

Finally, she wound down and got to the point. 

“Could you gentlemen spare a few dollars to help someone trying to do better?” (When I begin guessing, I am shockingly correct most of the time.)

As far as lines go, its a strong one. I haven’t seen this pitch before. (You could fill an old school set of encyclopedias with the amount of cheap pitch’s for money that are out there.)

I ponied up a couple of dollars, just in case karma is paying attention on a Saturday.

The guy next to me had been scowling the whole time and his scowl only deepened.

Finally, he sighed and reached into his wallet, pulling out a few bills. 

One of them that I could see was a twenty dollar bill. (Now I feel bad for giving just a few dollars.)

He held them up for Lizzie to see.

“My van is right outside.” (Now I don’t feel bad for giving just a few dollars.)

“Yeah, ok.” Lizzie smiled and pretty much bolted for the door, followed by her “John”.

Huh, go figure. 

The guy who had been sitting next to “John” reached into his jacket and pulled out a buzzing cell phone. 

“Hey Lonnie, what’s up?” Even quiet speech carries indoors.

“Naw, just me, Kennie is in his van screwing Lizzie again.” (Switching gears, “John” is now Kennie.)

Lonnie must have asked about Kennie.

“Nope, they always get high after, he’s useless for the rest of the day.”

More conversation I can’t hear.

“I’m leaving here, I’ll meet you there.”

With that, he was up and out the door. Maybe not as quickly as Lizzie abandoned her sobriety and rejoined the working class, but fast enough.

I heard on the news that the economy is booming and people are going back to work.

In more ways than one.

 

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Posted by on December 29, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

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You won’t even notice I’m gone.

Vacation?

Blogging and potty humor don’t take a vacation, so let me explain.

Let me bring you into a nerdy little side of me.

Bare with me, because this gets stupid, but I promise there is a reason for this.

I will take you to the Wicked Witch’s castle, but then straight to the Emerald City, Scout’s honor, pinky swear.

I first started the Bittermac blog to build an audience for a really bad novel I had written.

My goal was to suck you in with the blog and then abuse that trust to sell books.

It still is, but its taking longer than I planned.

Anyway, the novel was written during a yearly internet challenge called the National Novel Writing month.

The challenge is to write 50K words, from the beginning of November to the end.

To date, I have won 3 times and have written 3 novels.

And I am trying it again, with a difference.

Previously, I wanted to do fantasy or sci fi. (Side note, I have written a vampire romance. Don’t fuck with me, I WILL make you read it.)

But this year? I am writing a humor book.

Seems to be something that I can do, at least, I like it.

The blog has about a half a million words written, even if they suck, that is a lot.

So, this blog has been pre-written and scheduled.

Like frozen food, its still food, but some of you will bitch that it is not fresh.

Bite me, deal with it.

Think of it as sex with someone you are not into.

Like payback sex or a pity fuck.

Just get thru it and it will be over soon.

The good thing is, you won’t need a shower when its over, but you still might feel dirty.

Moving on.

And its not like this is easy for me, either.

Blogging has its fine moments where you really feel like you have done something beautiful.

And then there are those moments where you feel like a jaded hooker, emotionally detached from the service you are providing that has a somewhat dirty feel to it.

Before you get all Social Justice Warrior on me for belittling the human sex trafficking problem, keep in mind that I am the victim here. (I even shut down the email on the blog site, and you whiny fuckers found my personal email. The bitching never ends with you people.)

Being politically correct has never been one of my strengths.

In fact, one of the worst things you can do is let me know that something bothers you.

At that point, my focus sharpens to just trying to upset you.

I mean, the only reason I ever use the word tard, retard or the phrase half-a-tard is because I got hate mail 2, count em, 2 times, and now I am just doing it to piss them off.

Are you seeing the pattern here?

So, for the rest of November, you will be getting the blog, on time, but a little stale.

Might I suggest some salt?

 
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Posted by on November 6, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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