Friday, August 27, 2004

Bust a nut

I stopped at Sam’s Warehouse to pick up a few cases of water and Gatorade and shit during lunch today. That’s where I saw the group of dark haired come hither beauties in one of the aisles. They all had long hair, flowers behind their right ears, tight t-shirts and floral skirts with flip flops. Little far from Hawaii, aren’t you?

They had with them a flat rather than a cart and were staring at some large sacks. They were speaking Mali kiliki maka shit to each other and looking back and forth between the sacks and the flat. That’s my cue.

“You ladies need some help?”

All five of them turned around at once and I’ll be damned if they weren’t hot as hell. Well, all except that one goat faced freak but she was fucked up from birth and you just can’t blame a person for bad genes. Her parents, on the other hand, damn well should have been sterilized before that atrocity happened or drowned afterwards to prevent it from happening again. “Baaaaah.”

“Please, can you load these four onto here?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I step up and look at the sacks and then smile back at the ladies, winking at the prettiest one for purely superficial reasons. “Just four?”

“Yes, please.”

“No problem.” I wrap my arms around the first one, completely unprepared for the weight and mistakenly let a groan slip out before I can stop it. I hear someone snicker behind me as my pride goes up in flames. When I dropped the son of a bitch onto the flat I glanced at it to see what in the hell weighed so much but the burlap sack wasn’t labeled. What the fuck is in there, a smuggled Mexican?

I grab the second sack, this time prepared for the weight but no stronger now than I was before. I manage to keep from making any audible sounds of weakness but I felt vessels in my face bulge to the surface just before I dumped it onto the flat.

I grabbed the third sack, determined to make it look easy. When I hoisted it up I felt the fiery pain as my left nut exploded. Oh, shit, God help me! I let the sack fall from my arms to the flat in a booming thud and counted them twice, praying a fourth one had somehow managed to drag itself onto the flat for me.

“We need more, sir, please.”

I know what the fuck you need! I offer her a smile that borders a cringe with a polite, “Are you sure?” They all nod. Fucking A.

Deep breath. Exhale. Deep breath. I grab the fourth sack, hoist it up and fling it in the direction of the flat, half landing on board, half hitting the floor. My nut burned so bad I couldn’t take a step. We all stood there staring at it, waiting for someone to take the initiative to fix it. I gathered, and rightly so, that they thought this to be my job. With a wide-legged gait I mosey on up to the flat and adjust the sacks to get them all on.

“You ladies have a good day now.” I slowly amble back toward my cart. Thank God I’d already loaded up my own cases of water.

Afterwards I finally got checked out and managed to load my shit into my vehicle. Right as I went to put my key into the ignition I saw the Polynesians standing beside a decorated van with this website written on the side. Besides the five women were four cut-up, steroid eating motherfuckers with long hair to their waists and shorts and floral shirts.

As I drove around them to leave I saw two more ripped sons of bitches loading those infamous sacks. They were grabbing them like you would an animal, by the scruff of its neck and hind end, and tossing them effortlessly into the back of the van. Piece of shit showoffs. Where the fuck were they at when my goddamn ball popped?