Price Breaks and Heartaches
a journal of retail and failed romance
Volume II
Losing My Virginity And Other Wild Rides
By Al Bruno III
rev 1.0
Copyright Mark Al Bruno III 2011
Smashwords Edition License Notes:
This free ebook may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.
Price Breaks and Heartaches
a journal of retail and failed romance
Volume II
Losing My Virginity And Other Wild Rides
Price Breaks and Heartaches
A journal of retail and failed romance
Chapter Five
Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart
part one
(The following story is based on the secret testimony of the miserable souls who survived this mortifying ordeal.)
It was orientation day, and several dozen freshman students milled around in the grassy central courtyard of Scotia County Community College. Yours truly was there of course, enjoying my first day of college. It was a new beginning for me, the beginning of an era of independence and self determination. Save for the fact I was still living with my Mom and my Dad was paying for almost everything
I was chatting up a pair of girls, they were cute, bubbly and clever, but not too clever after all this was a community college. I figured I was in like Flynn.
Then Kevin K. Hanson and his entourage strolled into the courtyard; they were like the droogs from 'A Clockwork Orange' except instead of bowler derbies they wore baseball caps with filthy sayings on them.
When I saw them I remember thinking Please God don't let them recognize me.
Then he shouted, “Hey! It's Albert Louis Bruno III!”
The Lord and I have always had that kind of a relationship
Kevin and his two friends swaggered towards us in a classic pincer movement. There was nowhere to run. Kevin's two friends were Marvin and Corey. Marvin was kind of a biker, he had the leather wear, the tattoos and the attitude; all he lacked was the money to buy an actual motorcycle. Corey was an accomplished mechanic and all around nice guy but whenever he got around pretty girls his voice tended to go up an octave.
“Albert, are you attending classes here too?” Kevin clapped me on the back.
“For a start yeah,” I said. “I want to get my feet wet before trying my hand at an out of state school.”
“Yeah, feet wet,” Marvin chortled then turned his attention to the girls. “Speaking of getting wet, I don't believe you've introduced me to your lovely friends.”
“Come on Marv,” Corey squeaked, “be nice.”
Kevin dug his pinky deep into his ear swirled it and pulled it free with a tiny pop. He looked thoughtfully at what he had found before flicking it into the crowd, “So what are your majors? I'm here for computer science.”
One of the girls gave him a quizzical look, “I didn't think this school had a computer science division.”
“It doesn't but all the other schools bounced me so I figure I can get my grades back up here and then reapply.”
“Man you're hot,” Marvin said to the other girl. “I'd like to feed you a Snickers bar and eat the peanuts out of your shit.”
And with that both girls made their excuses and fled from us as quickly as they could. I had to admit I was amazed, that was actually a line worse than the ones I had used on Athena. I watched them disappear into the throng of students, “Thanks a lot guys.”
“Plenty more where they came from,” Marvin said.
“They were cute though.” Corey’s voice was returning to normal.
“Besides Albert this is college,” Kevin was now going to work on his other ear, “it's a buyers market. Everyone gets laid in college.”
That might be true but I was very afraid I might be the exception that proved the rule.
*
I am sure what you just read leaves you with many questions such as- “What is the deal with these guys?”
“And I thought you didn't like Kevin K. Hanson?”
“And in what mad soulless world would that Snickers line ever work?”
At the very least I can answer those first two questions for you.
Since high school I have had a love/hate relationship with Kevin K. Hanson. I mean he was a nice guy and all but he was just so goofy. I mean I'm a pretty weird guy myself but my oddness is offset by my strange sense of dignity and my irony. Kevin was just Kevin, he was like a wild Id. If he needed to scratch it he scratched it, if he wanted to say it he said it, and he didn't have a single shred of personal dignity.
Now I admit to hanging around him, in those days I thought a friend that was a pain in the neck was better than no friends at all. I didn’t find Marvin that irritating, so long as there was nothing remotely female within 20 yards of him. He used the exact same kinds of come on lines my brother used. I had already learned that vulgarity in the pursuit of intimacy only worked if you looked like Antonio Bandaras. Sadly Marvin looked like Cheech Martin.
Of course if you’ve been reading along you know that Corey and I have been friends since high school but recently he’d started to become more and more withdrawn. He’d show up to hang out with you and then spend the entire time frowning and lost in his own thoughts.
Every time I went out in public with these guys I spent most of the time cringing at their antics. Were they really the fools though? After all I was the one spending a lot of free time with guys I wouldn’t admit I knew in polite company. So why did I bother? Did I like their company more than I realized or was cringing and making smug comments easier for me than actually going out and trying to get new friends?
So as you imagine I wasn’t sure what to do next. Should I avoid them? Change schools? Kill them and harvest their organs for bizarre experiments? I didn’t know. All I was sure of was that none of us were going to break down and talk about our feelings.
We were men of the 1980’s after all.
Price Breaks and Heartaches
A journal of retail and failed romance
Chapter Five
Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart
part two
Of course Kevin K. Hanson’s crew wasn’t the only friends I had. There was my D&D group but spending my afternoons pretending to be a dwarven level 12 fighter was starting to lose its appeal. I wanted girls, I wanted my glory days to begin, I wanted wine and roses instead of soda and Cheetos.
*
...there was a dragon in the dungeon, at least that was what the legend said. The semi-noble, mostly famous adventurers known as the Swashbuckling Fellowship had decided to venture into the vast system of tunnels and traps in search of treasure.
“After all,” Thad the dwarf commented as he lead his companions through the catacombs, “what else is there to do in this lousy kingdom? It isn’t like there is any political intrigue, notable individuals with any kind of personality or even a viable economic system. Even the weather seems to be completely random and nonsensical...”
... “I swear to God Al,” Adrian glared at me from behind his Dungeon Master’s Screen, “all you do is complain.”
“I am just saying, that this could be so much better,” we were in Adrian’s parent’s basement as usual. There were new Boris Vallejo posters on the wall but the same old stains on the carpet. We sat in rickety chairs around an equally rickety card table. If you leaned something was going to come crashing down. “We’re supposed to be role-playing, this is like a computer game.”
“Interesting talk,” Daniel said, “coming from the guy that can’t afford a computer.”
That was a very interesting and clever observation so I told him, “Shut up.”
“Can we just get going here? I’d like the last game before I head off for basic training to be a little more fun,” Gordon shifted uncomfortably in his seat and then pitched over to the left, “GAAAAAA!”
“Are you sure you want to go through with joining the Marines?” I asked.
Harry looked up from the Doctor Who novelization he was reading and then buried his nose in the book again.
Gordon righted his chair and sat gingerly back down, “This is something I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid. I want to join the Marines and then work my way into special forces. The SEALS could use a guy like me.”
“Uh,” I said, “I don’t think you’ve got that quite right. The SEALS are...”
“Don’t,” Daniel silenced me with a gesture, “just don’t.”
“But...”
“We’ve all tried already.”
...the battle with the hobgoblins left the Swashbuckling Fellowship bloodied but unbowed. Thad the dwarf cleaned his blade and surveyed the dank dungeon hallway, “I think we’ve lost our bearings again.”
“I thought dwarves had big bonuses,” Chemlar the elven thief’s voice became a scream has a level of experience was burned away, “Nooooooo! Not the piano lessons!”
Bruce the ranger shook his head pityingly, “What are these ‘bonuses’ you speak of? Is it some kind of elven metaphor for a penis?”
“Oooo,” Thad said, “I like the sound of that.”
“Yes, that’s what I meant,” Chemlar said expectantly.
“This way!” the Wizard With No Name pointed back the way they had come. He tossed his fifteen foot multicolored scarf over his shoulder and started walking.
The other’s shrugged and followed but Thad wondered aloud, “When did he get that?”...
... “I just thought it would be cool,” Harry K looked up from his copy of Doctor Who And The Giant Robot, “I like to imagine my character looking like Tom Baker.”
“Last week you said he looked like Merlin from Excalibur,” Daniel snorted with disgust and crossed his arms. Somehow this caused his seat to topple over, “EEEEEEEEEEE!”
“Guys!” Adrian stood and leaned on the table, “Be careful with the damn chairs-”
And it was at that point the table flipped over...
...the tremors stopped as suddenly as they had begun. Dirt fell from the stone roof but it held. The members of the Swashbuckling Fellowship stepped away from the walls they had thrown themselves against- all of them save for the Wizard with no name, he hadn’t moved. In fact, he was still standing casually in the middle of the passage and studying his book.
“I don’t think we’re even close to the dragon,” Chemlar said, “let’s go back to the town.”
“No way!” Bruce the ranger said, “I’m here for an adventure, not to twiddle my thumbs while you try to steal everything that isn’t nailed down.”
“You guys could help.”
“How?” Thad asked, “It’s not like we’re double classed... oops!”
Arcs of power bled from the dwarf in a kind of agonizing reverse Quickening, leaving him a sobbing, urine-stained wreck. “Really?” Thad said in disbelief, “I soiled myself?”
“Who soiled themselves?” the Wizard With No Name looked up from the tome he was reading.
Once the dwarf had cleaned out his armor the band of adventurers began marching again. Their path took them across more and more hobgoblins that they dispatched with a combination of swordplay and magic- assuming the wizard was paying attention of course.
Just as they were about to give up hope they found the first real signs that they were getting closer to their goal, yet it was also a terrible setback...
... “A dragon turd blocking the hallway?” I said, “Really?”
“Really,” Adrian insisted.
Bruce had been looking at his character sheet, “How the hell are we going to get past it? Can we climb over it?”
“Too slippery,” Adrian laughed fiendishly.
I wasn’t done complaining, “Pee and poop. Is this what the game as come to?”
“Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. I should call you Bitchy Bruno.”
Daniel grinned, “Bitchy Bruno! I love it!”
“We should dig a tunnel through it.” Harry K suggested.
“Ew!” Daniel said, “My character is too cool for that.”
I looked back down at the sloppy map we had made to trace our route through the dungeon, “Maybe we can double back.’
Now it was Daniel’s turn to laugh fiendishly, “I have a better idea...”
...before anyone realized what he was doing Chemlar pulled the potion of mind control from the Wizard With No Name’s back pack and took a gulp. Mystical power flowed through him, “Now I command you Thad to burrow through that dragon turd.”
“You assho-” the dwarf began to say but then all resistance faded from his features, “Eep.”
The other members of the Swashbuckling Brotherhood watched him start digging with cruel glee, disgust or disinterest.
“Eep,” Thad the dwarf said as he pawed doglike through the muck. Occasionally he would come across the bone of an unlucky adventurer or hobgoblin and toss it aside, “eep.”
Finally the ranger had seen enough, “All right, that does it! I’m going to put a stop to this.”
“Oh hey Bruce,” the Wizard With No Name said as another mind control potion was pulled from his pack.
Mystical energy flowed through Bruce The ranger and he said, “I command you Thad the dwarf to throw crap at Chemlar!”
“Oop,” the dwarf did as he was ordered. He grabbed a fist full of dragon poop and sent it flying at the elven thief.
Chemlar’s lightning fast reflexes saved him from a face full of feces but some of the brown muck landed on his feet. His features, much like his boots, darkened. He took another drink of his mind control potion and ordered the dwarf, “Lick my boots clean!”
“Eep.”
Not one of the members of the Swashbuckling Brotherhood noticed the five Neo-otyugh drawing closer and licking their foul lips...
...as you can imagine things went downhill from there and our characters died once again. Gordon started packing up his books and papers, “This was the worst game ever.”
“It certainly left a bad taste in my character’s mouth,” I said with a shudder.
“Not my fault you guys are such crappy players,” Adrian tried to sound smug as he crossed his legs but doing so caused his chair to fall over, “GAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”
I helped him up, “Well I think we were doing fine until Daniel started screwing around.”
“I was not screwing around! I was playing my alignment!” Daniel banged his fist on the table for emphasis, causing it to collapse spectacularly.
“Well,” Gordon said, “this is it for me for a while anyway. I’ll try to come by after I finish basic training.”
Harry K finally put his book down, “Yeah. Good luck and everything.”
“Yeah, good luck,” Adrian said dismissively, “and now I have to find a new player.”
“I’m going to have to bow out of the game for a while too,” I explained.
“Why?”
“I’m starting college,” I said, “and a new job.”
Adrian wrinkled his nose, “Hey! I’m working, going to school and getting more pussy than you’ve ever dreamed about.”
“I dunno about that, I can dream a lot.”
“Anyway...” Gordon took this moment to shake each of our hands, “I figure I’ll finish basic training early. I’ve been practicing my push ups and reading Mac Bolan novels.”
I cleared my throat, “I don’t think...”
“Don’t,” Daniel silenced me with a gesture, “it’s not worth it.”
Price Breaks and Heartaches
A journal of retail and failed romance
Chapter Five
Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart
part three
The sign read 'The Paper Shredder Shreds Prices Every Day!'. Beneath it was a cartoon of a dollar sign going into a paper shredder. Paper Shredder was a new chain of stores that was expanding out from its original location in Albany's Westside plaza. These stores were a mixed bag selling office supplies, books and party supplies; none of the selections was ever large enough to hold more than the basics but the stores were in good locations and did brisk business.
I had been hired to work at a brand new location and thankfully the sheer number of jobs I had just up and quit was not held against me. There were three managers, six full time employees and another six part timers. I was technically one of the part timers but between weekends and evenings I was putting in around 35 hours.
We were all dressed in our causal street clothes and sat in folding chairs helping ourselves to the bagels and doughnuts that had been bought on the company dime. The manager Mr. Palmer was explaining to us what was expected in the next few weeks, his voice echoed off the empty shelves and bare walls but I had a hard time looking at him as he spoke; the man had the largest gums I had ever seen. They were positively horse-like.
“First of all I want to welcome you to the Paper Shredder family, you might be interested to learn that we are owned by the Nice Shopper Corporation so you will have access to some surprisingly good benefits.”
“What?” I said.
“I'm sorry?” Mr. Palmer said. “You have a question?”
“What company owns Paper Shredder?”
“The Nice Shopper Corporation. Now moving on, it will be your job to get the store ready for our grand opening on September 30th. Of course we plan to open a little early to get the bugs out and make sure we are all on the same page.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Mr. Palmer paused in mid-speech again and smiled at me, his gums glistened, “Sure of what?”
“That Nice Shopper owns this chain,” I said. “I mean are you sure it isn't some kind of a typo or something?”
“I don't understand why this-”
“Dude,” the guy that suddenly yelled at me was barrel chested with thick arms and scrawny legs. He looked like he should be moving furniture, not selling graph paper, Precious Moments greeting cards and Sci Fi Novels. “What is wrong with you? You have barely shut up once since we got in here?”
Sadly the neckless wonder was right, when confronted with a crowd of strangers I either keep to myself or start playing the fool. Since I had just downed 4 jelly doughnuts and a caffeinated beverage the choice was not my own.
Sometimes it made me the life of the party; most times it made me insufferable. I had been clowning around and making puns for almost an hour. The older staff members had been entertained but the three other people my age rolled their eyes more than an epileptic at a strobe light convention.
I raised my hands in surrender and let Mr. Palmer continue, I couldn't believe I was working for the Nice Shopper Company again. Talk about being stuck in a rut!
There were plastic bins called totes stacked everywhere and cardboard boxes filled with books. Mr. Palmer let the assistant managers Mr. Horne and Ms. Cooper hand out assignments. The two retirees that had been hired for the morning shift were sent to go put away greeting cards. The two guys my age- the neckless wonder and his pal, the kid with 18th century sideburns, were sent to the back to set up school supplies. I was sent to the side of the store where there was an entire wall of bookshelves waiting to be filled.
Tallulah was sent to work with me.
As I've said before redheads have always been a particular weakness of mine, my high school sweetheart was a strawberry blonde and my wife has lovely auburn hair that started going gray on our Honeymoon. didn't have that shade of hair. Actually my first real almost girlfriend way, way back in the sixth grade had been a redhead. She had been adorable and I had been quite the mac-daddy for a kid wearing Tuffskins. We had never really gotten past the hand holding stage mostly because I had no idea what to do past the hand holding stage.
Tallulah had hazel eyes, skin that was dappled with freckles and a smile that was equal parts sadness and mischief. Unfortunately she had no smiles for me. All the while we worked I could see her stealing glances at the neckless wonder.
“Your name is Tallulah right?” I asked.
“Yep,” she began arranging the books on the appropriate shelves, alphabetization would come later.
“I see you're wearing a Salnei University sweatshirt,” I said. “Are you taking classes there?”
“Yep.”
“You’re the prettiest person here? Do you know that?”
Other men might have taken their time to build up to a statement like that but there hasn’t been a car built yet that can go for zero to sixty as fast as me.
“Huh?”
“I know we just met,” I said in my most charming tone, “and it might be inappropriate but I have to ask- Are you going to say anything more than one syllable words to me for the next eight hours?”
“Nope.”
Price Breaks and Heartaches
A journal of retail and failed romance
Chapter Five
Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart
part four
It didn’t take me long to adjust to life at Scotia County Community College or as I liked to think of it, ‘High School 2: This Time It’s Matriculated’. I quickly learned to dodge Marvin and Corey in the halls but it seemed that Kevin’s schedule was the exact same as mine, in fact we even shared the same English and History classes.
A lot of the female student body took a real shine to me but unfortunately they were all returning students in their mid 40’s and early fifties. The girls my own age were pretty unimpressed by my relative lack of buffness and my mind bending theories as to how Wildcat could team up with the Creeper when the Creeper was a superhero from Earth One and Wildcat was a superhero from Earth Two.
Work meanwhile, work was just awful, the first week had been nothing but grunt work and mocking glares. At least the lunches were catered.
*
Mr. Palmer clapped his hands, “All right everyone, the pizza is here. Let’s break for lunch.”
“Pizza pizza pizza,” Kathleen, one of the greeting card ladies, groused. “Would it be so hard to order something else? You all know by now that I’m lactose intolerant.”
I gave her a smile, “That’s just what makes working with you such a gas!”
Everyone over twenty-five laughed at that one; my pier group however rolled their eyes in unison. “Dude!” the neckless wonder said, his name was Chuck by the way. “How is that funny? It doesn’t even make sense.”
“Yes it does,” my face reddened, I was never a good one for dealing with hecklers. “You see it was a play on words. Gas has multiple definitions and because Kathleen had just said lactose-”
“Do you know any good jokes?” Bud asked. He was Chuck’s pal with the anachronistic facial hair.
“Sure, sure,” I said.
Tallulah grimaced, “What have you done?”
I pressed on, “A cowboy was captured by a tribe of Indians...”
“Native Americans,” Tallulah corrected.
“Ok then,” I started over, “A cowboy was captured by a tribe of Native Americans. Instead of scalping him the chief of the tribe told the cowboy that he could go free if he could pass the three challenges of manliness-”
“So I guess these are challenges you’ve never had to face.” Karl snickered.
“-the three challenges were as follows. First he had to drink a quart of firewater all at once. Second heto had pull to a tooth from the mountain lion with a cavity they had chained up in a tent, and he had to do it with his bare hands. For the final challenge he had to satisfy a squaw that had never been satisfied by a man before,” I paused before I continued. I had baited the comedy hook, now I just had to reel them in, “So the cowboy took the jug of firewater and drained it in a single draught-”
“What’s a draught?” Chuck asked.
“He means all at once,” Tallulah said. Her eyes lingered on Chuck meaningfully.
“After drinking so much firewater at once the cowboy was a little woozy. The Ind- I mean Native Americans led him to the tent with the mountain lion. The cowboy staggered inside. Almost immediately chaos erupted from within the tent. It shook. There were shouts and roars but finally the mountain lion began to purr and the cowboy staggered out with his clothes all disheveled. He shouted ‘Now where’s the broad with the toothache?’”
Instead of laughter my punchline was greeted with confused silence.
Tallulah said, “I don’t get it.”
“Me either,” Chuck said, but he was looking at Tallulah when he spoke.
“Al, I gotta know,” Bud asked, “Are you a VIRGIN?”
Every other conversation stopped dead, all of the employees at Paper Shredder were looking at me to see how I would react. I remember my mind racing with the thought Say something witty. Say something witty. Say something witty. This is your last chance to win their respect.
“Well Bud,” I began. “Only my hairdresser knows for sure.”
God-Damnit!
A lot of people had a good laugh at my expense. Tallulah laughed the loudest of all. That hurt more than anything else.
And that was how I realized that in spite of everything I was developing a crush on her.
Price Breaks and Heartaches
A journal of retail and failed romance
Chapter Five
Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart
part five
His body was hairless and rubbery, water ran from his hair into his eyes as he looked at me and to top it all off he was trying to cover himself with a hand towel. “Oh hey Al,” Kevin said. “You’re a little early. Come in.”
“Actually, I’m about five minutes late.” I stayed as far outside Kevin’s apartment as I could without fleeing to the next county.
“I was just getting out of the shower.”
“I kind of figured that. Is… is this double date thing still happening?”
“You bet it is,” he said with a grin. “Come on in and give me a minute or two to get ready.”
I suggested, “Maybe I should go and get the girls.”
“You don’t know the girls.”
I mused, “I could get the movie tickets and come back.”
“We haven’t picked what we’re going to see yet.”
Then I begged, “…can I at least go get you a bigger towel?”
And with that Kevin dragged me into his apartment and I had to scramble to make sure no part of my body brushed against his nakedness.
“What lovely wallpaper this place has,” I said.
One of my crazy uncles had told me that as long as you don’t look a naked man in the eye you can’t turn gay. Then again this is the same uncle that told me that the movie ‘They Saved Hitler’s Brain’ was made to distract the gullible public from what parts of the Fuhrer they had actually saved.
Truth or not I stumbled into the living room and sat down on a recliner with fabric that I can only pray had been left crunchy and stained from spilled food. I heard Kevin getting ready and wondered how I could have gotten myself into this latest in a series of fine messes.
‘Double date’, an innocent pairing of words on the surface but in truth the only pair of words more likely to cause more misery for a man is ‘I do’.
Kevin had approached me after History class telling me that he was going to be taking a real hottie out on Saturday night but he needed a date for her best friend. His original plan involved hooking said friend up with his roommate Marvin but then he had made the critical error of letting Marvin talk to the girl before they had met. She mentioned working for the post office. He mentioned having a special package for her. It went downhill from there.
After exhausting every other option Kevin turned to me.
So that was how I ended up in Kevin’s apartment waiting to meet the girls and trying to flush the image of the man’s untethered wangdoodle from my mind.
Of all the nights to be the designated driver.
After what seemed like an eternity of flipping through the dog-eared copies of ‘Playboy’ and ‘Soldier of Fortune’ Marvin and Kevin had placed out for guests to read (Please God let that be what they were for…) Kevin came down the stairs wearing the exact same clothes he had worn at college that day, except that he had missed two belt loops instead of one this time.
We drove out to some campus housing in Schenectady and found a pair of girls waiting for us at the bus stop near the corner. They climbed in and we all exchanged greetings.
Alice and Sarah seemed like nice enough girls but very earthy, and by earthy I mean they smelled like patchouli and dirt. We debated which movies we could go see, but it turns out that the girls had certain parameters; they refused to see any films that had realistic or artistic acts or threats of violence and they refused to see any films in which animals or women were exploited.
And that was how I ended up paying to go see ‘Daffy Duck’s Quackbusters’ in the theater.
Well at least the girls enjoyed it, mostly because they had begun toking up in the theater during the opening credits. Kevin joined in but I did not partake.
Yeah I know you’re snickering under your breath at that but it’s true. You see ever since I discovered if left to my own devices I could eat a sheet cake in a single sitting or spend over a hundred dollars at a comic book convention without feeling a single twinge of guilt or shame, I realized I had one of those addictive personalities and that I should stay away from things that might be too expensive, self destructive or illegal.
Was I sensible or an utter utter wimp? Ten years ago I considered it a matter of pride I stayed so pure but as my midlife crisis wears on I do have to wonder if I didn’t squander my life just a little. Even now this is the closest I can come to risky behavior; posting stories of my life on the Internet and hoping some member of my family doesn’t read it and fly into a murderous rage.
Actually I was exaggerating that last part, my family doesn’t read.
After ‘Daffy Duck’s Quackbusters’ had reached its pulse-pounding conclusion I offered to take the girls back home but Kevin said we should all hang out and talk a little. The girls were all right with that as long as we picked up some snacks first.
Kevin told me that we should park someplace remote and rarely trafficked. He directed me to a disused parking lot near the Albany Airport. I recognized the spot, I had been there before.
“Couldn’t we go someplace else?” I said, “I’ve heard that high school kids like to throw eggs at the cars parked out there.”
“Nahh that’s a rumor.” Kevin said, “I used to bring Lizzie out here all the time.”
I hit the breaks, the hippie girls in the back seat when flying everywhere with a clatter of beads.
“Lizzie, the girl from art club?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Kevin said through a mouthful of Hostess Fruit Pie. “You know her?”
“Never mind.” I said unable to comprehend how one of my exes could have ended up with someone like him. I would have thought that dating me meant she had an appreciation for the finer things in life.
We got there and killed the engine, there was a minor Chinese fire drill when Kevin got into the back seat with Alice, Sarah climbed up front with me. Kevin and Alice started swapping spit almost immediately, I had to get out of the car and have a seat on the bumper. It was a chilly September night but that was fine, I wanted to be cold for a while.
“Hey,” Sarah sat down beside me. “Are you feeling all right?”
I smiled at the concern I saw in her plain features and single eyebrow. I wondered to myself could I kiss this girl? Should I kiss this girl? And if I did kiss this girl would I get a contact high? I had heard in more than a few places that every girl was practice until the right one came along. How could I ever hope to kick a field goal if I was still pitching in the bullpen?
Note to self. Nerds should not use sports analogies.
“I’m just…” I said. “…look you’re a nice enough girl but I just don’t…”
“Hey,” she patted my arm. “No worries, I’m not attracted to you in the least.”
I chuckled to myself, “A perfect end to a perfect evening.”
“Besides I think you’re still hurting over someone.”
“It’s not even that, I mean yes I did park here once with someone special once but that was high school, or close to it anyway,” I explained. “I just feel like nothing’s happening. No not that, I feel like nothing’s ever going to happen to me except for failure and breaking even.”
“Wow.” Sarah whistled. “You know, you should learn to just loosen up a little, stop taking life so seriously. You’re going to have kidney stones before you’re forty.”
“I wake up at three in the morning and I just know that all my dreams are going to be ashes! I can feel it in my bones.”
Sarah gave me a hug, “You sure you don’t want to smoke some weed?”
“No,” I patted her on the back.
“What about a handjob?”
I broke the hug, “I... I... What?”
“Well you guys paid for our movie and our snacks,” she explained. “It’s the least we could do.”
Everything shifted into slow motion. I turned to see the windows of my car had fogged up and I could hear Kevin K. Hanson giggling like a cartoon mouse.
I cried “Nooooooooooooo!” but that was only the first dramatic ejaculation of the night.
Price Breaks and Heartaches
A journal of retail and failed romance
Chapter Five
Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart
part six
Getting my upholstery steam cleaned made me late for work but no one seemed to mind. Paper Shredder location #42 was starting to look more like a store and less like a poorly organized warehouse. Kathleen and Mr. Palmer were putting the finishing touches on the greeting card department; it was three solid rows of wasted paper and canned sentiment. Our selection ran the gamut from generic condolence cards to garish oversized paper hearts.
My eyes were quickly drawn to the intoxicating read hair of Tallulah. She was hard at work in the book department and Bud was helping her, they were chatting and laughing together.
Or at least they were until I walked over. They reacted to my approach in the same way most drivers react to seeing flashing lights in their rearview mirrors.
I thought to myself, Don’t say anything stupid. Be normal...
Then I said, “Hey are you guys going to let me help you put away books or are you just going to be shelf-ish!”
Tallulah looked at me like I was crazy, “Why would we be shellfish?”
“Not shellfish, shelf-ish! Get it?” I said, “Please?”
“Man...” Bud said, “Your sense of humor is about a sharp as a wet loaf of bread.”
Now that got a laugh from Tallulah.
“Al,” she said, “we’ve got it pretty much under control here. Why don’t you go help Chuck set up the shelving units?”
Of course I’d have rather stayed around the cute redhead but I could tell that she’d already had enough of me.
The shelving units were about three feet long and you locked them into a set of brackets set into the walls or aisles. Each bracket was marked so you could be sure you were hanging the shelves evenly but for some reason the shelves I found were all crooked, making it look like we were in a store designed my MC Escher.
Then I saw why, Chuck was hanging shelves at high speed and not watching what he was doing. He kept glancing back to the book department. I grabbed a shelving unit and got to work myself; since I was actually paying attention to what I was doing it took me longer to get done.
“Hey Bruno,” Chuck said, “you getting paid by the hour over there?”
“Actually yes, and you are too.” That stopped him dead in his tracks for a moment.
Chuck snorted, “You're wasting your time, no one is gonna care if the shelves are a little off.”
“What if they notice and make us re-hang them? That would double our work and set us behind for the soft opening.”
“Why do you care?” Chuck said, “This is retail, I’m just here to kill time and make some cash while I go to college.”
I shrugged, “If that's the way you want to do it. I think anything worth doing is worth doing well.”
“Don't go quoting the Bible at me.”
“By the way, what are you going to college for anyway?”
“I wanna be a gym teacher,” he said, his attention shifting back to the book department.
“Why do you keep looking over there?” I asked, “Is there something going on?”
Chuck walked close to me, he had doused himself with a cheap cologne that reminded me of a locker room thick with the odor of ball sweat. He whispered to me, “Bud’s trying to get a date with Tallulah. He wants to beat me to the punch.”
“Bud thinks he can get a date with Tallulah?”
“Why not?” Chuck said, “He’s got a nice car.”
Bud glanced over our way and said something to Tallulah, then she laughed. “So what?” I said, “He looks like John Wilkes Booth.”
Confusion clouded Chuck’s features, “You mean the guy from the old porn movies?”
“No, that was John Holmes.”
“Whatever,” Chuck turned back to his work, “I told him I was gonna ask her. He better not score with her.”
“Him? Her?” the thought made my stomach twist, although actually I couldn’t imagine me scoring with her either.
Chuck leaned in a little closer, “Well you know what they say right Al?”
“That Hell is other people?”
“No! What are you gay?” Chuck laughed at me- not with me, “They say red on the head is good in bed.”
“I don’t think I understa-” then I did understand and I blushed. Tallulah was grinning at Bud. She had the kind of smile that made you want to smile right along with her.
Chuck nudged me with a meaty elbow, “I bet she’s a demon in the sheets.”
“I bet I’d fail my saving throw.”
“What the Hell are you talking about?”
“It’s a stream of consciousness thing.” I replied.
After that we worked in silence. I tried to eavesdrop on Tallulah and Bud but there was no way to make out what was being said over the general noise of the store being set up.
“Red on the head is good in bed.”
That was a maxim I’d never heard before and I had to wonder at the truth of it. Was there any data to back these claims up? Where did women that dyed their hair red figure into this?
I tried to imagine what it might be like if I found myself in bed with Tallulah, with her soft pale skin exposed, her red hair spilling out around her, her lips breaking into a smile as she pointed at my sub-par wiener and laughed.
Ok, I guess I couldn’t imagine myself with her at all. I didn’t even dare to dream it.
But I found the idea of her being in bed with either Bud or Chuck more than a little nightmarish.
Price Breaks and Heartaches
A journal of retail and failed romance
Part Five
Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart
part seven
By the third week of college a few things had changed, the English department had decided to move me into the advanced (aka hard) classes, while the history department had Kevin examined for psychological disorders. Marvin kept doing his thing and even ended up getting a few dates here and there; although I noticed that most of his relationships didn't make it past the second or third week. Corey just stopped coming in, at first I thought he was sick but then I found out he had quit. I promised myself that I would find out what was going on as soon as I had some free time.
Free time however was something I didn't have a smidgen of then. It was school and work with barely enough time for meals, sleep and onanism.
Go on look that last word up, you know you want to.
It was the day before the Paper Shredder store #42’s soft opening when I got the brilliant idea to try and win Tallulah and the guys over by taking them out to lunch. After all those pizzas and sub platters management had served for us we all wanted fast food.
*
“Nice car Bruno,” Bud commented.
“Well thanks,” I led the three of them through the parking lot and unlocked the passenger side door of my rusty and dented car with a proud flourish. The anti-theft alarm immediately went off.
They snickered as I fumbled to quiet it.
“Hey Tallulah,” I said, “you can ride shotgun.”
“Shotgun?” Chuck said as he sat down next to me, “Is that where she bends over and you cock her?”
I paled, “No?”
Tallulah was in the back seat with Bud. She said, “Lets get going Albert, we only have half an hour.”
I started driving, “Where are we going?”
“How about Burger Clown?” Bud suggested, “They’re close by and they have great shakes.”
“Burger Clown it is then.”
As we pulled out into traffic I saw Chuck staring at my dashboard, “What the Hell are you listening to?”
“Oh,” I started to explain, “that’s a Cher 8 track that got stuck.”
“Can’t you put on the radio?”
“No.”
“You actually listen to this crap?”
I shrugged, “Until I get it fixed yeah.”
Tallulah and Bud snickered. He said, “You’ve got great taste in music.”
“This came with the car,” I explained. “I’m much more of a metalhead.”
“You?” Tallulah’s eyes were in my rearview mirror, looking at me with interest.
“Oh yeah,” I said, “I have all of KISS’s albums.”
“KISS?” Her voice suddenly became icy, “KISS is not metal.”
“Oh.”
There were a pair of pink fuzzy dice hanging from my rearview mirror, they had been lovingly given to me by my brother Phil. And by given to me I mean put there without my knowledge or permission. I kept them there for fear of what he might replace them with if I removed them. Chuck was staring at them with amusement. He asked, “What are these here for?”
I lied, “For luck.”
“Luck?” Bud asked, “You get lucky?”
Before I could answer Chuck began cupping the fuzzy dice like he was giving my rearview mirror a hernia exam. Everyone laughed, even me. Laughter is always the best medicine and at times like this it kept me from driving into a concrete abutment at seventy miles an hour.
I parked my car in the lot of the nearby Burger Clown and only ran up on the curve just a little. As we walked in I spun my key ring on my finger and tried to look cool. I spun a little too hard and my keys flew off my finger, zipped past Tallulah and slid under one of the trash cans.
By the time I had retrieved my keys the others had already made their orders. Time and dignity were running out so I quickly ordered a number 7.
“A number 7?” the greasy guy behind the register asked.
“Yeah,” I paid for my food and waited. The other guys were talking conspiratorially with Tallulah and sharing mutual laughter. I felt a stinging sensation in my heart, it was a sensation I knew well, the feeling of being left out. This was a feeling I had known throughout high school, Bruno family Christmas gatherings and, perhaps most tragically, weekly meetings of the Northeast Doctor Who Appreciation Society.
But I was determined I wouldn’t feel this way forever, I was going to make people see me as the man I truly was, not some kind of a clown.
That was when a Garfield Kid’s Meal was plopped down on the counter beside me.
“Your number 7 dude,” the greasy guy behind the register said, “you got the racecar with Odie in it.”
The others were laughing and falling against each other. What I felt now was a new sensation, it was the feeling of my dignity hemorrhaging. I soldiered on and sat down in the booth next to Bud.
“You got a Happy Meal!” he said, “That’s so cute!”
Tallulah observed, “You don’t look very happy though.”
I opened the box and pulled out a small gaily-wrapped hamburger, “Well I must admit to experiencing a certain amount of ennui.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Chuck said, “but it sounds pretty gay.”
I tried to harden my gaze, I tried to make it as hard as the erections I get during bumpy bus rides. I said, “Well maybe you should read a book then.”
“Oooooooo.” Tallulah chuckled.
Chuck blushed and I started to feel a little smug.
“Al?” a voice said, “Al Bruno?”
I looked to my right and winced, “Oh hi Daniel.”
So much for feeling smug. Daniel pulled a chair over and sat with us. Bud and Tallulah both looked bemused and I think reading Daniel’s ‘I Grock Spock’ t-shirt had caused Chuck’s brain to lock up.
Talluluah was the first to speak, “Aren’t you going to introduce us Albert?”
I mumbled something, it might have been a cry for help.
“I’m Daniel,” he said, “Al and I used to have the same Dungeon Master.”
“Dungeon...” Chuck said as his brain re-locked, “...master?”
My posture became defeated, “OK let me explain ...”
“The game has really gone downhill,” Daniel started going through his own kid’s meal. He grimaced at the realization he had gotten the racecar with Garfield in it, “We’ve tried to get some new players but you know how it is. The Albany gaming scene is all weirdos.”
Bud nodded, “Except for you guys of course.”
“Of course.”
“Adrian got tired of running Dungeons & Dragons so he started up a Boot Hill campaign but it is so damn easy to get killed in that game. So then he converted all the characters to Call Of Cthulhu and that was going great until one of the new guys tried to take down an inbred serpent wizard. He should have known better than to bring a gun to a shoggoth-fight!” Daniel laughed and raised his hand for a high-five, “Am I right? Am I?”
“I guess you had to be there,” Tallulah said, her eyes sparkled.
Price Breaks and Heartaches
A journal of retail and failed romance
Part Five
Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart
part eight
Somehow the employees of Paper Shredder store #42 for ready by the soft opening date; Bud and Chuck were put to work stocking shelves and customers, the older employees were put up front to run the cash registers, Tallulah was working in the copy center in the back and yours truly was working in the book department.
*
The store PA blared to life, “Al to the front for a price check.”
Ah, some things never changed. I set aside the inventory sheets I was working on and headed up front. Patty was running the main register, she was in her fifties and I think she was a little overwhelmed by the two or three customers we had shopping in the store.
The Paper Shredder uniform was slacks a white shirt and a green smock with the store logo stitched on it. It was odd to try in run in it was almost like a skirt. It kind of helped me understand how the heroines in horror films could never quite outrun those slow moving mummies and aliens.
When I got to the front of the store I found Patty starring confusedly at a package of pencils and a customer glaring. “How can I help?” I gave the customer what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
Patty handed me the package, “How much are these pens?”
“You mean pencils,” I said. “The price is right here on the ticket in the corner.”
“But it doesn't match,” Patty explained. “I rang in the price and the department but she said it was the wrong price.”
The customer gave me a pleading glance, “The sign on the shelf says they're 2.99 but she keeps insisting they're 3.49.”
Patty said, “It says that on the price tag.”
“Oh I see. You see the price you were using was the price before the Paper Shredder store discount.” I turned the customer and said, “Paper Shredder shreds prices and passes the savings on to you.”
“So what do I do?” Patty asked.
“You just hit the ring back button and that will erase what you did.”
“How do I do that?”
“It's the big red button that says ring back.”
“Oh for the love of God,” the customer stormed out.
Patty wrung her hands, “Oh my.”
“I wouldn't worry,” I said. “That's what soft openings are for right?”
“I thought this was the grand opening.”
“Uh-no.” I turned to go.
“Wait, how do I get rid of this sale.”
I called back, “Just call a manager and ask him to void the sale.”
The book department was my kind of work, I loved familiarizing myself with the stock and arranging things just so. There was a horror section and I made sure to make sure that all my favorite authors had their books facing outwards and the ones I thought were crap only had their spines showing. I thought to myself that when I had made my fortune I might open a bookstore of my own and call it Bruno's Books or something equally corny. I dreamed of having an office in back to write my books while my employees worked on the sales floor. I imagined customer's coming in and then begging me for autographs. I fantasized about the girls that had scorned me high school in visiting my place of business and becoming completely orgasmic when they learned of our special order polices. I imagined giving one or two of those former cheerleaders a grand tour until they were so overcome with desire that they would allow me to thumb through the index of their most primal desires.
Man I was glad that smock covered any unsightly bulges that might arise.
The store's PA system blared to life again, “Al to the front to void a sale.”
More than a little confused I headed up to the front to see two customers now lined up waiting for Patty to cash them out. I said, “I'm sorry I can't do voids, only managers can do voids.”
Patty stared at me for a few moments, “You're not a manager?”
“No. I'm not even close.” I looked at the building line and said, “I'll ring you folks out over at this register. Patty just ask for a manager to come to the front and they can fix that for you.”
I got to work taking care of the customer's while Patty picked up her register phone and dialed #9, the store intercom beeped to life and she called for assistance but then forgot to turn off the intercom giving the entire building the chance to hear her confused ditherings.
Once the cashiering was done I headed back to my books leaving Ms. Cooper to deal with the chaos that was Patty's cash register. I got about six minutes of shelving done when I heard Tallulah page “Al to the copy center.”
That's right the book guy had to help with the front register and the copy center. Ah well, there's nothing like being irreplaceable is there? I headed to the back of the store to see Tallulah monitoring a job on each of the two copiers. There were self service machines nearby but no one was using them. There was another customer not being waited on so I asked him what he needed. Thankfully he just wanted to check out a few of the cross pens we had on display, I hadn't really gotten a lot of training on the copiers yet.
“Hey Tallulah,” I called back. “I need the keys to the display case.”
The keys came flying across the room and hit me in the back of the head. I'm sure it was an accident. I spent about ten minutes showing off pens of varying expense. The customer picked one out and asked me to find her a gift box; I headed back to the copy center to do so.
The copiers we used back there were huge multi-purpose things, they could staple, sort and print on multiple forms of media. They also put out about as much heat as your average restaurant kitchen. Tallulah was hard at work here, juggling multiple orders and talking to Bud. However as I rooted around for an appropriately sized gift box I realized she wasn't as much talking to him as scolding him. She wasn't yelling but I could tell even over the whoosh and roar of the copiers that she was verbally cutting him to shreds.
A redhead with a bad temper? As if I wasn't smitten before...
After the pen sale the next hour or so was divided between books and cashiering with the occasional excursion into the realm of office supplies. By the time my 15 minute break rolled around I felt I had earned that can of Pepsi and handful of snacks.
Paper Shredder store#42's break room was nothing more than a table sized indention in the wall about the width of two office cubicles. There were mismatched chairs and a folding table there for the employees’ enjoyment and relaxation. I wasn't alone in the break room for those fifteen minutes, Tallulah was sitting there, her arms were crossed and she was fuming.
“Cookie?” I said.
She frowned at me, “What?”
I decided it might be best to speak a little more slowly, “I said do you want a cookie. My mom made them so but they're relatively dog hair free.”
“No thanks Albert.”
“Al is fine you know,” I sat down across the table from her. “I couldn't help but notice you having words with Bud, now I know it's none of my-”
She spat, “He's a complete asshole.”
Well she was opening up to me, that was something. “In what way?” I asked. “I mean aside from the obvious reasons.”
That earned me a chuckle.
Tallulah said, “He took me on a date. Standard dinner and a movie, and it wasn't even really dinner. It was the food court at the mall...”
I noted to myself that dinner at Arby's wasn't as romantic as I had thought.
“The movie was 'Can't Buy Me Love' and it was OK, I guess,” she said. “But the idea was pretty sad, imagine some dweeby guy wasting all four years of high school mooning over some girl he was never going to get. I mean it's pathetic isn't it?”
“...yeah,” I said with a small cringe. “What a loser.”
“But the kicker was afterwards when we get back to his car he wants to hang out and talk,” she made quotation marks with her fingers. “And by talk he meant he expected me to give him a handjob.”
“He what?” my cookie crumbled in my hand, chips dropped to the table.
Tallulah’s scowl deepened, “He thought that since he took me to the movies I was obligated to get him off.”
I was amazed, “When did this rule start?”
“First I heard of it but then again I did go to high school in Shenandoah. I hear the girls around here were a little looser if you know what I mean.”
“They were? They are?” I set the cookie down my appetite ruined, “I think I missed out on more in high school than I realized.”
“I kind of thought so,” she gave me a mischievous grin and broke off a piece of my cookie. “Breaks over. Gotta go.”
A handjob for a movie? I wondered to myself, Is there some secret price list I never knew about?
Price Breaks and Heartaches
A journal of retail and failed romance
Chapter Five
Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart
part nine
That first day of the soft opening ended with Patty being fired. The employee handbooks stated you couldn’t get fired until you had gotten several written warnings, that way there was a paper trail to cover the company’s behind. I can only assume that management figured Patty didn’t know that.
They moved Bud to run the front register but he was really unhappy about it, his career path with Paper Shredder had more been geared towards hanging around in the receiving area with Chuck.
I made good grades in every subject but algebra, man that was some painful stuff. I don’t know what was wrong but my mind, the same mind that can remember the scriptwriter for the Doctor Who episode ‘The Brain of Morbius’ was actually Terrance Dicks writing under the name Robin Bland couldn’t even resolve the simplest of equations.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-55 show above.)