Well everyone, I’ve finally gotten back to the screen and my fingers are just aching to type, so here we go.
I have discovered in the past few days, nay, in the past few years of working retail, that I am one of the last of an old-fashioned yet strong and stubborn breed. I am a courteous person. And I do not say this as a flaunt of my personality. I have no interest in proclaiming myself as something better than others. But by daily comparison in the workplace, I find that I do things for others that force a response of surprise, confusion, and even awe. On the same token, I receive treatment from others that is unwarranted, ignorant, and above all else, rude, and yet these people go about their lives like their behavior is proper, if not expected. And I suppose after so long working in the retail business, I should expect these things. I just can’t let my brain get around the idea that society is moving so far into self-centeredness. I don’t want to believe it. I can’t believe it.
So I think I’m going to write a book. How surprising is that? Me? Write a book? Well, here’s the catch. This will be a true story. A simple elegy in prose to the life and death of common courtesy, and how it plays out in the world of the average department store. Some chapters will illustrate the general laziness of those who shop on their lunch break. Some will focus on the lack of respect for articles which are not paid for. A few chapters will be first-hand accounts of particular events which occurred on my watch, and will forever haunt my retail psyche. The concept of common courtesy, of kindness and respect, must be remembered, if not actually upheld by those of us who understand the phrases, “Treat others as you would want to be treated,” and, “Put things back the way you found them.” I may post installments of this project here from time to time, just to see what responses I may get. So yeah, this is a heads up.
On happier tones, it’s time for everyone’s favorite string-warping duo! Now I know I said I was going to use the prompts for the Masquerade Crew’s Writing Contest for the next few installments, but I realized that the animal prompt was the only one that I could use. All the rest don’t really fit for this story. So we’re scrapping that idea and just getting down to the fun of it.
Luke’s fitful rage was what finally tamed the monkey. Rog smirked at the awkward pair from across the crackle-less fire. Demanding the chittering monkey return to ground level and, “fight like a… primate,” Luke had started throwing whatever piece of earth he could find up at the creature. Eventually he came across some hard, pointed berries which matched his pants perfectly. And so he took to throwing the odd things into the tree, although he could barely hit the bottom branch. A few managed to settle nicely on the lowest beam, and once Luke was exhausted, the monkey moved its way down in curiosity. Apparently the berries were something just as new to the monkey as the boys, and also very sweet. In no time, Foamer the foaming monkey was clinging to Luke’s back, licking at the bit of juice that had dripped from the fruit onto his bare arms. Luke, too tired to care anymore, so long as the foam-ball didn’t get near his river-cleaned shirt, just took on the hitchhiker. And now they lay side by side, the man wrapped in little foamy arms, as they dozed under a starless, silent night.
Daw, aren’t they cute together? Now as long as they can stay away from those crazy Aboriginal nuts, right? We’ll see how that’s going along next time perhaps. Until then, no more from me for today. Hopefully I’ll have my Masquerade Crew story done in the next few days. It’s really coming along nicely. I hope you all enjoy it when it comes out. Cheers all!