America's Drive In

If you tip at Sonic you are an idiot.

The Last REAL Job I had... (LONG) (Language)

I apologize about how long this post is, and about how unfunny this may be.

I used to work at an electronic super store, kind of like Circuit City, but more blue (THIS IS FORESHADOWING BLUE IS MORE THAN A COLOR). Before this gets negative (and possibly hilarious) I want to say that thanks to this job I have a passion for photography and met five people that I don’t completely hate. With that said, FUUUCK THIS PLACE, and Wal-Mart is generally cheaper. No, seriously.

I started working at this place last May and it seemed alright - I don’t really mind any job that lets me fuck off for most of the day while talking to hot girls about electronics. That was about the first 3 months. Like, literally all I did was talk to hot girls and play video games and learn about cameras…then the holiday season hit. You know, August - the holiday season. At that point it went from awesome all the time to “Hey shit is going to start getting lame, oh and this guy who is dumber than you is going to pretend to be your supervisor. Don’t worry, he isn’t, but he is buddy-buddy with the manager, so refrain from calling him a fucking idiot if at all possible.” (More on this dumb fuck later.)

I will freely admit that I am a difficult man to employ: I am moody, more concerned with pretty much everything, openly mocking and judgmental of stupid policies, and generally pretty lazy. With that said I am a lot smarter than AT LEAST 75% of the people I worked with, probably 90% but I don’t have my spreadsheet open. The entire time I worked at this place I was doing stand up - my passion - and I was pretty open about that at the time of my hiring (requesting Wednesdays and Sundays off for open mics). So it came as no surprise that I joked around a lot at work – like, a lot. Especially in the break room, where after 90 minutes of explaining to a lady why the HD video on her Fuji didn’t look like the stuff on TV, sometimes I would just go vent, which is hilarious because I am hilarious.

At some point maybe around July, the management figured out how funny I was and they began joking around with me, which is fine. Sure it got unprofessional at times, but I am not some HR champion. But at one point in front of a customer and during a pretty big sale, a manager kept calling me infect-ticle, (I had at some point prior to this contracted epididymitis which is at its essence an inflamed testicle) which I had to explain to the customer (who kept asking why the manager in question called me that). One day the same manager walked up to me and asked me if I had written “Fuck [place I worked]” on my Facebook, and I told him of COURSE I had, because it was within my legal right to do so. Also he wasn’t my Facebook friend which means someone had told him. Either way, my Facebook is pretty much a big joke to me. I have never taken it seriously, and I only post things on it that I find funny or that have some importance to those close to me, but the fact that he attempted to get me to remove it shows how insecure this particular gentleman was about this company. (A place he has worked for longer than he has done anything else - he has worked there over half of his life…. WHYYYYYYYYY.)

Anyway - shortly after, I got a text message from a girl I worked with saying that the managers didn’t like me and were looking for a reason to fire me, to which I replied “Oh for real? That sucks.” I don’t think at the time I realized how trivial it was that my managers not only talked about me behind my back but did so in front of my friends. And YES, I do see the hypocrisy in me bitching about a manager talking about me behind my back while writing a blog about how shitty he and his company are, but the difference is I am a petty asshole, and I don’t hold anyone’s career in my hands (to my knowledge) other than my own.

WORST OF ALL, there was this fucking guy, this sloppy, dumb piece of shit who somehow got a TASTE of power, just a taste, and thought he was hot shit. On three separate occasions I heard this motherfucker on the phone telling people he was a manager, no motherfucker, managers don’t work the floor or have their schedules made for them. They also usually have name tag indicating their position in the managerial hierarchy; they also don’t make  just a dollar more than me. Seriously fuck this guy. Every time he saw me he tried to shake my hand. What is that? I don’t shake my friends’ hands every time I see them. This guy was a fucking idiot. I would openly make fun of how shitty he was as a person and he, being a moron couldn’t figure out I was making fun of him. 

ANOTHER THING, his dad was always in the store. I don’t care how proud of me my dad is, he isn’t coming to my job every day to check on me. Why the fuck did this happen every goddamned day? I honestly saw his dad more than I saw my own dad in 2010. This motherfucker would spend hours in the store and never buy shit, just hang out - why the fuck was this allowed to happen? CUT THE FUCKING CORD!
Anyway back to this fucking idiot whom I hate. He was lazier than I was; I am lazy but this motherfucker probably worked about three hours a day, most of which was spent translating Spanish because he was one of three people in the store who spoke it. The rest of his time was spent sitting in chairs and trying to fuck our co-workers, which I have on good authority never happened. This fucking guy is the exact type of person these companies love to hire because he is just dumb enough to over work himself, never apply for benefits or question orders, and he will dump most of the money he makes right back into the company. Seriously, if I ran a place, I would hire dumb motherfuckers like him all day and everyday. So what if he smells bad and lies to customers? He is too dumb to notice he’s underpaid and a non-issue as far as EVERYTHING is concerned. Fuck this guy. I hope one day he accidentally looks in a mirror and finds out just how pathetic he is, just how low you can become as a person, maybe even an un-person.

This is disjointed… I should look into an editor. [Editor’s note: We tried our best.]

I got fired, more accurately I was asked to leave. I saw this coming, and my supervisor and I (whom I think is a good guy) would joke about it in front of customers. Like “Yeah, buy from Brandon now, he won’t be here in a week!” Over Christmas break I chose to go see my parents whom I hadn’t seen in quite some time (I think since August). I had told my manager not to even BOTHER scheduling me for the day after Christmas because I wouldn’t come in. He took that in one ear, said “Oh, that’s the third busiest day of the year (it isn’t) - you will definitely be on the schedule.” I told him I would be in Missouri and probably snowed in, and he asked “Are you pre-calling in?” and I was like “Sure.” and he was like “Okay.” Now keep in mind I never called in. As a matter of fact I had to work Black Friday (WITH epididymitis) because another guy called off (This motherfucker had three grandpas die in a three month span and he still works there, fuck him) so I figured I had some bargaining chips in, turns out I didn’t. Oh well.
The day after Christmas came, I called in and the phones weren’t on. SERIOUSLY - A COMPANY WORTH MILLIONS OF DOLLARS DIDN’T TURN ITS PHONES ON - ON THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS - THE ALLEGED “THIRD MOST IMPORTANT SALES DAY OF THE YEAR!” Anyway, since I didn’t call in (I thought I pre-called in, turns out that isn’t a thing), and my manager checked the weather service in Kansas City (who does that?) and didn’t find the weather conditions unacceptable, decided to tell me that he simply couldn’t trust me, and that my integrity had been compromised. Oddly enough he has made some pretty suspect choices later, but who I am I to question someone’s integrity? He would give me two options: One, to put in my two weeks, leave with their recommendation OR I could stay employed for the next 90 days, but if I was even one minute late for those 90 days I would be fired. I had to tell him “Dude I was seven minutes late today, we both know that isn’t possible.” to which he replied “Yeah, so I guess we know what you have to do (insincere sad face).”…

On my way out of his office he asked me a simple question. “Which do you consider a bigger priority, this company or stand up?” Are you fucking kidding me? He had to already know the answer to that before he asked. Even people who don’t do stand up would probably choose stand up. Which do you like more, fun or work? I think we both know how that ended. I fucking laughed in his face and left.

Additional note: About two weeks after my last day I got three phone calls from people I worked with while I was in class. When I got out of class I checked my messages and was informed that I was supposed to open the store and that I was going to get written up. I went in (to buy something for my camera later that day) and my manger walked up to me and the girl I was with all buddy-buddy and was like “It is the darndest thing, we forgot to take you out of the system. Don’t worry about it, we didn’t write you up.You know how crazy computers can be blah blah blah.” In the middle of his rant I was like “Dude I don’t give a fuck, but since I am on the schedule, I am on the pay roll. Since I am on the payroll I get the discount. Peace kid, I am buying shit on the cheap.”

I don’t hate this place, but it is pretty shittily [Editor’s note: Not quite sure how to spell “shittily,” it’s really annoying.] run. There are a handful of people I consider friends that still work there, but I think our friendship can endure this blog. If not, oh well.

As usual, thanks for reading. This ended up longer than I wanted it to be but oh well. 

P.S. If you found this at all legible, thank Chad McNaughton, he took one long run-on sentence and turned it into whatever it is this is.  ALSO a special thanks to Clarissa Moore, she helped iron out a bunch of the tiny grammatical stuff that Chad and I missed. I haven’t even known her for a week and I already owe her favors!

Roasting: A comedy tradition

Last night a bunch of Oklahoma City comics got together and roasted one of our own, Mr. Zac McClure.

Internet Dating

I make lots of poor choices in my life, I mean a LOT, but what started off as a drunken joke has led to a few interesting friendships and a constant reminder that sanity is but a dangling thread, to be cut at the first sign of criticism, judgement, or rejection.

Sometimes You TRY to Record a CD and NO ONE Bothers to Show Up.

On September 27th me and 5 of OKC’s finest comics performed a show at UCO’s famed constitution hall.

We Probably Aren't Friends

friend  |frend| noun. a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.

Please Kill Me.

Obviously don't, but I would love a nap!