nin137

Nick's Journal
2004-06-21 01:25:27 (UTC)

I finally got that cock-jockey at walmart fired

it's been a long, tough battle, between me and the
mentally challenged pedophile on register 3 at the local
walmart. we first met not 5 years ago. i on the verge of
a senior year and he on the verge of another year of
lackluster masturbation to kiddie porn delivered to him
clandestinely through the good old u.s.p.s.
his lisp, along with the his straight bangs greased to the
side of his head, awkwardly pasting themselves to his
shiny and constantly sweaty forhead, first gave me the
hint that i was in line with a pedophile. the second hint
was the fact that he leered at all little children that
walked by his register, constantly fucking up his bagging
of my one item.
i remember how i went to buy some milk that day and he
made one of those pathetic ass jokes, "are you old enough
to buy this?". fuck you pedophile.
now as i stood across from his diminutive stature idly
shuffling through the few groceries i placed before him as
if they were bio-hazard material, i could see that this
jack-ass had not changed one bit.
the last item on the lane was some beer which he scanned
and with a mischevious look pulled back from my grasp
stating, "i don't think you're old enough"; the response
to this was another bloop from the cash register as he
scanned it a second time thanks to his idiotic jerky
movement. along with this bloop came a bellow and a
crimson faced, 300 lb. gorilla of a manager.
-----
i have a stomach ache. i get stomach aches when i'm
stresssssed. when asian women drive in front of me, when
mexicans say, "they'll be right back", or when i have to
listen to incessant unhappy bickering. the ache is pretty
cool, it just manifests itself from my brain into the
realms of my bowels then radiates through my body as if it
were a jolt of electricity. slowly echoing up my spine
and pushing a gasp of astonishment out of my mouth.
-----
i guess I didn't really get him fired. he did himself.
sigh i can't even take credit for that. it's one of those
empty accomplishments that make you feel sort of sick to
yourself. i guess it's like finally kicking that bully's
ass, and then when you find him bloodied, battered, and
bawling on the ground in front of you, you realize that
his snot, tears, and remorse don't make him so much
different from you.