the one with greaser geese

Today I will further chronicle the first week back at work. This is the craziness that happened on day 2 of employment. Feel free to read the trial and tribulations of day 1 here. It is unique in its adventures but really can’t hold a candle to the story I’m about to write here for you.

(I’m not sure why I’m sharing this.)
(Actually I know why I’m sharing—it’s pretty funny.)

So on day 1 I tried walking and it didn’t turn out all too well. The very next day I had to be at work at 5 pm sharp. I decided to take the bus just to get a good start and erase the painful experience of the first day walk. There is still about a 10-12 minute walk to get to the staff entrance from where the bus drops me off.

The bus would be dropping me off at 4:30 (it claims 4:29 but if you’ve been on a bus before you know how that smells goes. If all went to plan I’d get to work with about 15 minutes to spare.

(Why would it go smoothly?)

I wore my work pants but had my blazer and shirt hung neatly on a hanger. I waited for the bus and I waited for the bus. It came late and got me to the stop with about 17 minutes to spare. As I walked (rushed) I decided it would again be best to put my uniform.

(Who needs a phone booth?)

I made my way through the lagoon, greeting the joggers as I did.

(Greeting= grudgingly made eye contact with one of them and nodded.)
(I may have also thought: I hope she isn’t raped/killed and I’m the last person to have seen her.)
(No dear reader I DON’T know what is wrong with me.)

AnyPotentialSVUepisode I continued on. There were two men feeding geese some bread. It was a calm almost pretty scene. I weaved around them, through some trees and kept going on my merry way. Suddenly two geese, wearing leather jackets and carrying switchblades broke from the pack. They started following me. I thought nothing of this as I cheerily, and eagerly thought of work.

(Yeah right.)

They were gaining ground on me and soon began to taunt me. It wasn’t long before they overtook me.

Goose 1: Where you off to?
Goose 2: Hey youse deaf er something? My buddy here asked youse a question.
Goose 1: So where you headed boy?
Me: Work.
Goose 1: Oh, look at him mr. worker. Where you headed?
Me: Work.
Goose 1: You sassing me?
Goose 2: I think he is Hollywood.
Hollywood: Can you believe this Two-bit? He really is sassing me.
Two-bit: He’s sassing you for sure.
Me: No sirs.
Two-bit: You know what Hollywood?
Hollywood: What two-bit?
Two-bit: He looks tasty; bet he tastes better than those Socs.
Hollywood: He does look delicious.

And that’s when I should have run away. Why? That’s when they started trying to eat me. One (Hollywood) even latched onto my messenger bag and simply wouldn’t let go. I sped up (which if you’ve seen me move fast is funny in and of itself.) trying to shake Hollywood off. It took nearly 6 steps (while avoiding two-bit’s bites) to get him off.

(That’s what she said!)

Finally the geese gave up and went off to drown a Soc or save some kids from a fire or something. I still had 6 or 7 minutes of a walk left to get to the entrance. As I hurried along I cursed Zagara’s Market (old employer), this new job, fowl of all kind and the world in general. Those greaser geese had stolen all my extra chill time. I was flustered and happy to just make it into the building. Hot and disheveled I busted through the doorway and right into a group of my new workers. This group included one of my managers.

Day 2 had a shaky (or should I say bitey?) start to it. I can only look back at it and laugh (though not in front of my geese masters of course) and share with all of you. If I didn’t the wifey would anyway. She still laughs about it today.

And what would a blog post here be without some sort of horribly photo shopped picture?



3 Responses to the one with greaser geese

  1. Cookbook says:

    Geese are the WORST. I had a bad experience with one as a child. It grabbed my crotch! With its beak! Trauma!

  2. […] up on the earlier insanity? Day 1 had John Waters and Goblins. Everyone had a laugh with day 2 and jimi eating geese. You may be asking “where is day 3?” or “damn Jimi can’t you even count to […]

  3. […] first week was one story after another. The one with my junk, the geese and the name trouble were just the tip of the iceberg. Almost weekly I’ve been given […]

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