:: Why are you reading this anyway? ::

0 comments :: Tuesday, June 24, 2003 ::

Well I am bored out of my mind. I worked today and had to first break the crate off of and then move a 950 pound custard maker. Why? you might ask, well let me tell you. Mark, the brother of Paul (suprisingly both apostles' names) is opening a custard shop. Paul owns Showplace, and Mark is his brother and their whole family bathes in gold coins, so he's not lacking in money either. Anyway, the custard shop is going to be right by Showplace East, which is where I work, of course. Anyway, I was doorman today which is supposed to mean I stand there and do nothing for my entire shift, seeing as it was a Monday morning. Of course, that couldn't be the case. I arrive and do the morning stuff that I have to do, which entails making sure there is oil for the poppers and syrups for the cokes, then walking through the parking lot to sweep up random cigarette butts and fast food trash leftover from the night before. I come back in and see a semi-truck outside the front doors. Of course, it unloads a large crate, about five(5) feet tall, with a base of about four(4) feet by four and a half (4 1/2) feet. The building next door is a Harley Davidson place, and they had a forklift which got it off the truck and inside our doors. Unfortunately, it put the crate directly inside the doors, but the lift itself could not fit inside the building, thus leaving it right there. Dual-weilding a socket wrench and screwdriver, the manager and I went apeshit on the inhuman box of evil. I was using the screwdriver by prying out the eight billion staples that were about three(3) inches deep. While I did that, he used the socket wrench to (duh) undo the bolts. As we finally break off the walls of the damned thing, we prayed to God with all of our might that He would miracle us some wheels connected to the bottom of this behemoth demon. Sadly, we were too late, Satan himself had removed the wheels and we were forced to move it using a furniture dolley. We moved it all the way to the end of the hall by the back exit, so it would not be in the way of anything, but we received a phone call from someone up high (Paul, I suppose) saying it had to go in a special storage area. After much searching, we found inside the machine it contained wheels that we could add to the bottom. After attatching the wheels, we noticed that it was still connected to two boards. The fucking things were bolted directly to the machine itself, two of the bolts were inside the machine. We were forced to remove a plate off the side of the thing to take them off the rest of the way. Finally, our miracle had come and there were wheels attatched. That is how we, two movie theater workers with the help of God were able to defeat Satan and his custard machine. Score one more point for the good guys. Funny story about the wheels, the thing costs a shitload of money plus $200, and you don't get the $200 back unless you return the wheels. I guess they are really good wheels. Anyway, it all turned out okay and as I walked around doing nothing later in the afternoon, I saw a cute kid. She was a 92, but only Melissa and I understand what that means. Anyway, I was in the arcade, just walking through, when this little girl who is probably about 3 1/2 or 4 says "Hey, guy!" I turn to her and say hi back, and she walks up to me and holds out her hand. She then grabs my hand, but its more like two of my fingers because shes so small and she sort of pulls at my hand a bit and says, "Nice to meet you." She was shaking my hand, and it was the cutest thing I have seen in a long time.
:: Tim 2:12 AM [+] ::