Home Login Contact
Sections

Galleries

Authors

Issues
Testing... by Ray Printer Friendly

I was talking to this guy that I work with today, and he was telling me about…well, I guess you could maybe call it one of his hobbies. I don’t know for sure. Whatever it was, it sounded immature, silly, and fun.

What this guy does, is, he calls in sick to places where he doesn’t work. Like he’ll just call into McDonald’s and be like, “Hi, this is Jiminy (his name isn’t really Jiminy, but wouldn’t it be cool if it was? That would be awesome to work with a guy named Jiminy, I don’t care what you say). I can’t come to work today—I’ve had diarrhea all morning.”

And they’re like, “Who is this?”

“Jiminy? Jiminy Jones. I just started there, I was supposed to come in from ten until four. I’m not going to make it in. I’m very sick.”

And they get all confused, because they have no idea who this guy is. And no matter how high up the ladder they go, nobody knows who he is—because he doesn’t work there. Weird, huh?

I asked him why he did it. He goes, “I don’t know. It’s funny, I think.”

And that sentence right there explains why I like this guy. How many of your responses start out just like that? Like, “Why did you do that?

“I don’t know. It’s funny.”

I do that shit all the time, man. “Why did you trip that fat guy?” “Why did you throw a bug at that little girl?” “Why did you push that old lady in the wheelchair down that huge hill where all the deaf children were having their picnic?”

“I don’t know—I thought it was funny.”

Yeah, man, that gets me in more trouble…

.

.

So my princess had to go to this website for her schooling, I’m not exactly sure why. Anyways, I’m not real sure what it’s all about, but she’s alls the sudden like, “Hey, do you want to take this test?”

Without hesitation, I say, “Absolutely not!”

And I end up taking it anyways, because that’s how we roll ‘round here.

You answer all these questions, and then it tells you what kind of a person you are. The bad thing is, the questions aren’t fair. Like this: You know what I got in Sensitivity? A one! Can you believe that? I’m not sure exactly how the grading system works, because I don’t give a rat’s ass, but it seems like a one is pretty low. A one!

They didn’t ask impartial questions, that’s what I say. Like one of them went something like, “You like to be in large crowds of people.” YES or NO They didn’t specify if I had a gun or not, if this large crowd was made up of angry customers or beautiful naked women, or even if these people knew about all of the bad things that I wrote about their mothers.

Another one went something like, “I like to help people with their problems.” YES or NO I think that really depends, don’t you? I mean, do I get to help them by listening to them whine for like three and half hours about all kinds of shit that I don’t care to hear? Or do I get to help them with their problems by cracking them in the back of the head with a giant hammer and then throwing them over a waterfall? These details are important, you see.

Anyways, I probably failed, even though it’s not supposed to be one of those tests that you can fail. If you make it to the end, and it says something like, “You’re a fuckin’ asshole! Don’t talk to anyone ever! Kill yourself!” that means that you answered all the questions correctly, right?

I was shocked to discover that the computer didn’t think I was sensitive. I mean, I guess it’s because I never cuddle after…you know what? Never mind.

Who’s more sensitive than me? I mean, you give me three seconds with a homeless person, I’ll have them crying. Preachers? Forty-five seconds and an anatomically-correct doll. I can break an old lady in a minute and a half, I’ll have her confessing to any crime you need her to confess to. But that’s easy stuff. Give me a high schooler, some guy that’s about to run off and join the NAVY so that he can die to prove he’s macho (nobody that young understands what they’re running off to die for, not really—of course, maybe that’s just me being old and bitter). I will have that guy bawling in under five minutes. No, wait. That guy, I won’t make him cry. But I bet I can really piss him off. So in under five minutes, I’ll a have that guy ready to kill anyone.

Sensitive? Man, I’ll sensitive your ass off. And they gave me a one. Jerks.

Oh, yeah, I wanted to tell you that I got a beard trimmer! That was the other thing. Yeah, so I got a beard trimmer. It seemed so much more exciting at six this morning. Speaking of morning, I got to go to McDonalds for breakfast today, and it was wonderful. I hear people talk shit about McDonalds, and to them I say this: Eat Allsup’s fried burritos during your formative years. Hell, eat them any time. After that, McDonald’s tastes fantastic. And here’s the sick thing: You will go back for Allsup’s burritos. It’s weird, man.

You know how salmon swim upstream to mate, and they get there, they screw, and then they die? That’s what an Allsup’s burrito does to you, except you don’t get laid, and it’s much worse than dying. But that’s another tale.

I’m done for tonight, kids. I hope you’re all doing well, or at least not getting gang-raped in prison. Night, li’l homies.


posted 8/13/05


Comments:


Add Comment:
Name: Location: