"...Godspeed, Tardface!" The Funeral weekend pt. 1

I have been putting off doing laundry for such a long time that I can't really give you a semi-accurate timeframe. I know that I have worn most of my pant at least three times longer than they should have been worn and I have resorted to buying new shirts so I don't have to wash any. oh yeah- and i have been going commando for like a week and a half. Which is fine, you know, I mean no one knows. And its not like I'm not wearing underwear to make my habit of being a slut move any faster. WHICH IS A TOTAL DIG AT MY MOTHER WHO APPARENTLY THINKS IM A WHOREBAG SLUTHO. let me explain.

Ahem.

So my great grandmother passed away this past week. She was ninety seven and beating up nurses right up until her time came. She was amazing that way and in all of my memories of her I never remember her being angry or mean to anyone. (except the nurses I just mentioned...I think she bit one...) She was a person who sincerely seemed perfectly content with whatever came her way and I never heard a complaint from her... about anything!

I know funerals are not supposed to be a time for fun and cutting up, but I must say (in the most not-morbid way possible) that I hope that for the people who attend my funeral they will be brought closer to the members in their family as I was during these days. I had a lot of fun during the time I was not in the actual funeral, and I think that is the way it should be.

Well, I will put it out there that I don't wish that people bond the way I accidentally let myself turn into a drunk, obnoxious monster, but yeah.

Truth be told, I was very embarrassed at myself for how out of control I let myself become and I am writing this blog as an outlet in a way so I can let go and forget about that terrible tuesday. Its my stupid aunt's fault anyway. She's stupid. We will call her Tardface.

annnyway,,,,

We started off the day at Julie Darling donuts, a cute little place with donuts that will kill you if you give them some time. We met Tardface's friend Lynda there and we all conversated and jokeinated and ate strange donuts. Lynda's son came to have some donuts. (we will call him JewBaby) At this point in my trip, I did not realize that we were kindred spirits, but alas. I tried a bacon donut with him and at this point in my trip, I did not realize what a huge mistake that was, but alas.

We left Julie Darling's and hippity hopped around and looked at schtuff and more schtuff. It was nice. We ate at the Pickle Barrel, a nostalgic sandwich spot for my mother and then we hippity hopped out way back to the hotel to get ready for visitation.

I was already in a weird mood during visitation because my mother's new husband (we will call him Grandpa Sweetums) was making fun of all the Jesus Pictures in the Hallway..along with everything else he could see. He found one picture especially amusing and he will probably mention it in days to come. Let me show you!:

It is Jesus healing the liberty bell... while sitting on the constitution with an eagle planning an attack on his head. Grandpa Sweetums was just fascinated by this patriotic masterpiece and when JewBaby showed up unexpectedly, this is the first thing I drug him to see. He was suitably amused and impressed. These are little details that allow him to be a kindred spirit.

We floated back to the visitation room after looking at all the inappropriately amusing things in the building. Tardface wasn't any less behaved. She saw a chair that was taller than the others in the room and to her, this was a prop so she could amuse the family. I am not entirely sure what her mind saw the chair being, but when she sat on the chair and made a distressed face and grabbed her stomach and her hindparts, I saw the tall chair as being her toilet throne.

I really don't know what goes on in her head to make her do things, but I find them to be quite amusing most of the time, so godspeed Tardface! Keep up the good work. Thank you for being a fountain of inappropriate entertainment for me. I need that kind of stuff.

anyway.

Someone got hungry and I offered to go down to the grocery store and buy food for the fam! I don't care if its cold and raining in the mountains and that I am wearing a skirt and flipflops! I'm bigger than the environment! I will trek down and bring nourishment to my people at whatever cost! I will make the journey for my family no matter how the cold will slash my flesh!

"Or I could drive you" JewBaby says.

Oh, word?!

"ok!"

And off we go! The drive was about thirty seconds long and when I stepped out of his car in the Food Lion parking lot, a middle aged man was pushing a shopping cart full of toilet paper right in front of me. JewBaby was still in his car messing with a paper or something so I just back in frantically because this was important.

"Oh my Lord, look at this dude's buggy when you get out! Hurry! Look! Ahahahahaha what's his problem dang what in the world that must suck to have whatever he has I wonder if he is okay dang thats gross he doesn't even have any food....thats all toilet paper, the devil"

It was at this point in the night that I realized I was more hyper than I usually am and I was talking nonstop about friggin nothing.

We get into the store and I don't know what people want on their dang sandwiches so I play it safe and just get meat to make sure I don't buy something that people don't like. Everyone wants meat on their sandwich...so yeah...that's the safest route. We walk to the bread isle and a couple are walking in our direction as we are walking in theirs. We stop two three feet in front of each other and do the "which way are you going to step?" dance. I keep the dance going by sort of jumping in front of them when they try to get out of the way. I laugh and jump and jump and dance and they don't laugh so I stop.

JewBaby says nothing. Poor guy! He seems shy and I am bringing attention to him with my idiotic shenanigans. Oh well, I can't help it.

Come on people.

We pay for the sandwich bread and meat and off we go! Off to provide nourishment for the family! Thirty seconds later we are back and no one is really wanting a plain ass sandwich like I had hoped. They want condiments. Of course they do! So I have to go back to the stupid store later with Grandpa Sweetums because JewBaby left to go do something psh.

Grandpa Sweetums humored me by saying he would walk with me down to the store down the dangerous, busy, hilly road in the night cold and rain! Thank you Grandpa Sweetums! Halfway down the hill I forgot that I hurt my knee doing something dumb but I didn't say anything because I finally had someone to walk with me. We get into the store looking beat up and cold...because we are and we get in the checkout behind a dude paying with food stamps. He looks in better shape than we do in my opinion. This is mildly ironically funny to me.

"Oh! We almost forgot the ice!" Grandpa Sweetums reminded me.

"Man, are you serious!? We have to carry a bag of ice back to the funeral home what in the world were we thinking oh my lord we are so dumb oh wait nevermind that was all my fault because I wanted to walk so my bad I'm sorry, I'll carry it, my bad."

I don't remember Grandpa Sweetum's response because I was too busy rambling on about something, but I never stopped talking the whole night.

WE can do this! We are not weeny girls! We will carry groceries and ice up the wet, cold hill at night! We walk around the building and a car pulls up to us. It's foodstamp man.

"Ay, ya'll wanna ride?"

Oh Lord, really? Scuzzy foodstamp man wants to help us because we look poor as a mug and to' up and cold. Foodstamp man got more irony points. We declined his offer. Man! maybe I'm walking because I want to walk! Does no one want to walk ever? Maybe I want to walk in the cold in a skirt carrying ice in the dark with a hurt knee while struggling to see, you don't know! Leave me alone! And plus I'm mad that you have food stamps, go away. Plus your probably a serial killer because you're a single white man in Tennessee who drives a pickup truck and your on foodstamps. I can't help it, its what the statistics say. Scuzzy man, psh.

We get back safely without the help of serial killer food stamp man and the family ate an extravagant feast of maybe one sandwich with mustard on it. Spoiled family psh! I didn't want a sandwich and it was a good thing because that is when I noticed it. Jewbaby had a stethescope....and I wanna listen to people's insides. I stare at the stethescope and he notices me looking at it. I ask if I can see the thing. And he hands it over.

WOOoOOo SteThhhEsCoppe!!! let's listen to something! My dear, sweet mother is the closest to me so I put the hearing end of the thing up to her throat. She gives me a WTF look and I think that is just hilarious. I tried to tell her the instructions to the game I just made up...but I was wheezing a bit too much to get it out on my first attempt.

"Say a word inside of your mouth but don't open your mouth because I'm not supposed to hear the word out loud, I have to try to see if this think can hear what your saying!"

Her WTF look changes into a WTF look mixed with a look of indignation and she covers her mouth and does what I ask. The sound she makes is like she is choking. I completely lose it. It's the best game ever at the moment and I keep telling her to say different words. Each new choking sound makes me double over and then it is time to leave the visitation room. Jewbaby takes his stethescope back and that is when I learn that my people are going to a place called the Terminal........

"...Ay, I can get uh appluhcation?"

Something amazing happened at the Fruit Shop a couple days ago. I was dipping strawberries into chocolate and I backed up to throw something away and it happened!... I actually slipped on a banana peel. Something I thought couldn't really happen except in children's books and MarioKart World.

Yes. I stepped on the banana peel and slid on it for about two feet. After I got my balance back I just looked at the flattened peel and the smear on the ground with a sort of "wooow" face. I looked around to see if anyone else saw the unbelievable wonder that just happened, but no. No one was really paying attention. We were all in our own world dreading the moment when Corporate Fruit Shop Man would be in to stay all week to watch us all... and that would be any moment now.

I continue to dip strawberries because I am not really concerned with Corporate Fruit Shop Man. I am about to walk out of the place anyway. Every morning I feel like a bum for working there and I have my other job that I can go to. The customers are beginning to get on my last nerve and Bunnies (the owner who hired me) has sold the store to an Indian Patel (THEY ARE ALL PATELS! HOW ARE THEY ALL PATELS??) who uses a fake first name because his real one is an impossibility. I saw it on our employee packet and it looks something like this: "Dijikiolipmhjijiuygulipa"

I like Indian Patel okay, you know. I mean I guess. I suppose. Whatever.

We carry on with our morning activities. Dipping, cutting, skewering, and screaming profanities at each other, throwing grapes and wet strawberries at Charley, the manager who gets paid like a regular employee because no one wants to pay him what he deserves. (It passes the time)

We terrorize each other constantly. It is unending and it also explains why there was a banana peel in my space. Someone threw it at me. These sort of things are nice and I used to have fun at the Fruit Shop. I am hoping the hatred-funk I am in is just a phase that will soon pass.

The doorbell chime went off. I look at the Kracken and the Kracken looks at me. The Kraken looks at Charley and Charley looks at the Kracken. Charley tells me to answer the door because he's bossy and I'm obedient. I go up front and an extremely tall black man wearing a Fruit Shop hat, Fruit Shop jacket, Fruit Shop pants, and holding a Fruit Shop notebook is making his way into the back of the shop without acknowledging my "hello".

What a douchehole.

I walk back to the production area where Mr. Corporate is looking around disgusted. Nothing is how he wants it. He says in the most condescending diva fashion ,"Oh, no no no. This will not do. Lookssssssss like I came just in time!"

Yeah he was (and still is, I presume..) a big, flaming homosexual who really did draw his S's out for a noticccccceably long time. It was esssspecccially bad when the S was on the last letter of the word in his sentenccce. The longest S run was four seconds. Yeah, I counted. It was just sort of awkward because we all had to wait until his S sound finished until we answered his question or commented on his remark. Gay. Gay and odd.

I want to walk out now. But then I would only have my Web job to go to...and I want to walk out on that one too. Dang. Why can't both of these jobs be as nice as they were when I started?

I heard Winston Churchill and my other boss talking about how my hours were going to be cut and they said NO to the raise I asked them for so I doubt they would even notice if i stopped coming in.

Dang doorbell. Another dang customer. I saw this one coming from the parking lot. He demands attention. Mr. Gangsta Gold Teeth With An Attitude Drug Dealer wants some effing fruit. If I go attend to the customer I can get away from Corporate Gay Man. So I go.

Gangsta Attitude wants to order a huge fruit basket with a bunch of extra dipped fruit and then complain about how expensive it is. This is typical of this type of customer. They do it every time and then they pull out a huge-ass wad of "fiddys" (fifty-dollar bills) and peel off a few and then curse at you under their breath. You don't have to get a fruit basket you know. But dang.

So yeah. He mumbled quietly as he forks over one hundred and thirty dollars, "You high fo' some fruit...". (This translates into "This is expensive fruit)

"Yes, I know sir, but people buy it so it will continue to be that way."

"Whatchu' mean by dat?"

"I'm saying if you don't want to spend the money you don't have to."

**silence**

"Ay. If I bring some bud and some stuff in, you ca' make me a basket wit dat?"

"Are you asking me if I can make you a basket out of Marijuana?"

**Insert hysterical gangsta laughing here*

"WOOO day would be hot, right??... Maybe I could send it to da Po-po Department." He continues to laugh because he is the funniest man alive while I wonder why I come in to work everyday.

Charley and Corporate Man come to the front to see what is going on. They look at me for an explaination, but before I could tell them what his Police basket plan was, I didn't even know what was going on because Gangsta Attitude is getting passionate about tax rates and going on about some dude in Washington. He was an idiot.

I go to the back to sip my coffee and reflect on what just happened.

I go back to dipping and I am doing that wrong and get corrected.

I start putting grapes on the stick and I am doing that wrong too and I get corrected.

The phone rings and I answer it and I get corrected because I didn't answer the phone right.

and so on.

Indian Patel comes in and tells me that my apron looks scuzzy. A blood vessel throbbed in my eye. I lied and told him I had to leave because my other job wants me to come in and they are priority over the Fruit Shop because I get paid more there. This makes him be "concerned about my future at the Fruit Shop". This doesn't make me care any more than I already don't.

I was almost out and walking to my car when a brand new Gangsta customer came in.

I greet him with a, "Hey! how are you today?"

He responds with a ,"Ay, what ya'll do in hurr.. cut up fruits and shit?"

Wow. "Um, yes. That is what we do here."

Gangsta looks around the walls and ceiling for God knows what and says," Ay, I can get uh appluhcation?."

**Blink, blink**

"Of course!"

I open the kitchen door and tell Charley that he has a customer and leave quickly.

I believe it is the beginning of Fruit Shop Burnout.