the dish washer

[Axanderdeath]

A day in the life of a dishwasher


“It was a hell of a day-shit! It was mad! Really you have no idea.”
Dale said shaking his hand-fisted, and looking as though he was about to blow red bloody shit from his ears then he picked up a ‘cutting knife’ (as dale always called them) to begin chopping his own innards up with half a head spuing wild and bloody mind matter about. I always liked a good ranter and sat back and let the insane fuck rantify. “fucking stupid bitch-Fuck fuck! Oh what the fuck was I going to?.. Arrr she just would not shut up!” Dale was growing redder and redder by the minute I had to tell him to shut up.

That day was never really explained to me-not in full. I was working in a kitchen, all the rest of the kitchen staff were from Iraq, and Dale was the most crazy-evidently. Snd, evidently Dale’s real name was not Dale. He did have trouble with his girl friend. She did not cook or clean for Dale. It was sad his sexist head never did really blow off.

I’d get up in the cold ass Calgary morning and shiver my way up to the bus stop and wait-listening to the banter of ‘fucking Calgarian.’ (as I had started to mumble from time to time, under my breath-trying not to look crazy.) I’d get down to the centre city and walk in, and Dale would always be at it, with his jack ass smile and black hair slicked back-a real cool guy. Telling every one about his personal life and how the judge was making him go to anger management. Cutting the meat he would go on and on about ‘the bitch’ or we would ask Dale ‘what’s up with the bitch?’ He would never get mad he would just go on where he left of the day before.

The wait-staff at the restaurant were all very up class ladies and new this and snubbed it up. I washed the dishes, “nice dress” and this would come from my mouth from time to time with out a real reply. They were really beautiful. My particular favourite was a red head that was a bitch, really a mean sassy whore but I liked it and she knew it. I’d be washing the dishes (my job) and really going at it. Red head would come in and tell me not to strain myself to much, and she did it all the time. One time I said back to her, “strain, you want strain!” Then I went scrubbing even harder. She was impressed.

Red head was not in that day so I was a little sad and glumly looking around the kitchen. Dale was slicing his meat with a sad smile on because some one had told him to shut-up. It was around Christmas and I noticed in the staff room a flyer that said “Christmas staff party-free drinks!” and an address I copied it down, it was that very night.
“Dale, you want to drink a bit before the party?” I said and he did. We went to my apartment because it was closer to the party than Dale’s and started on the whiskey that I had bought. We put on T.V. and watched “the drunk’s Christmas” staring Frank Paathead, he was in all “the drunk’s” movies, and it was rumoured that he was a drunk. Frank Paathead’s character is a drunk that is alone on Christmas eve, and he is getting drunk a knock on the door and it is a sad forlorn girl that is cold and needs some food and warm place to stay, and beer which Frank Paathead’s character has a lot of. The rest of the movie is them having long conversations-slurring out the meaning of life and everything else, but Hollywood ignored it and YOU probably never have heard of it. It is one of the most touching story of a drunk alone on Christmas ever made in that year-1978.

The party was held at redhead’s. I was overjoyed, and hoped that she would let us in. First of all we were the most hated people that worked there, and second we were already noticeably drunk. But we were let in by red head with a smile that was as amazing as her herself and that is very much. I smiled back, she frowned. We hung out with the other kitchen staff-they all were talking Arabic so I wondered in to the wait staff’s room(also where all the free booze was.) Red head was talking with the gay waiter. I walked up and sat by Red head and tried to get in on the talk. They were talking about shopping, and I did not have much to say so I sipped quite steadily on the beer and when I went to the washroom I always grabbed another, even if I was not done my own, and also I grabbed on for gay waiter and red head. They were both getting drunker and drunker.

It was know around the restaurant that red head had a big crush on gay waiter but gay waiter was gay. Red head was getting to the point of drunkenness that she forgot that or something and gay waiter a scared off. The it was me and a very horny red head that I thought was the sexiest thing in the world and we were talking. It was the biggest thing since Frank Daathead’s assent to the top from the gutters drunk in tinsel town, which happened a little after I wrote the paragraph of Frank, so you may know who he is and I am sorry. But I Had this great chance with red head and that is the point.
“How long have you been working here Samantha?” (Samantha is Red head)

“Oh too long.” She laughed and reached out drunkenly with a fist and playfully hit me on the chin. I playfully grabbed her waist and she melted in to my hands.

“Enough fighting.” I said and our eyes meet and it was great and all that romantic chemistry… Or at least I thought.
“Have you ever seen ‘Drunk’s Christmas’?” I asked her. She put her hand over her mouth and started to giggle. “what?” I said.

“Your strained… You cute little boy.” I did not like to be called a little boy, even by red heads. She seemed very drunk and unfortunately I was not about to take advantage of her. I wanted to. I wanted to take her to her room and to fuck her until I could not fuck and any more… take a nap and then fuck her again and again. But I still had some morals then and I did not. I stayed there until she passed out and one of her friends and I put her to bed. Her friend was alittle chubby and kept grabbing my ass, I left after that.

Every one was hung over the next day at work. Dale was not talking which was strange. Red came in to pick up an order.
“I fucked her last night.” Dale said.

“I don’t think you did, I put her to bed last night” I said, everyone laughed at me. You can figure what they thought.

“you dirty little ant” wink wink wink-her eye went. “telling ever one you slept with me, you worm, your lucky I don’t get you fired.” Winking the eye the whole time until I asked her:
“Something wrong with your eye?”
“What you fucking sick jerk, don’t talk to me.”
“What d……………..”
“Shut-up” She yelled in a shrill of a voice and I did. I did not care. She was winking the whole time. She was straining. Everyone else could not see it they all looked at me and then down. After 5 or 10 minutes Dale was talking about his personal problems with women and every one welcomed his bullshit, or maybe not bullshit but welcomed just the same.

As I was going to change Red head told me to wait in the change room for her. I contemplated just sitting there in my boxers, or better yet naked, but I decided that that might not be the best Idea because I am no kind of model and also that may not be what she had in mind. I tried telling my self that it was not. This is a trick of mine, tell your self it is the worse then you won’t be disappointed when it is not the best, and if it is the worse that is okay because you thought it would be. So maybe she got me fired or something. I thought how shitty it would be to be broke on Christmas.

She came in with an indecipherable look on her face. She sat down and put her hands over her face. She was sitting in the small chair and sat in front of the door so no one would come in. I thought for she wanted me, but waited for her to say something.
“Somebody likes you.” She said and I was wondering why she said that… then “thanks for help put me to bed. And sorry about yelling at you, I can’t lose face around her, but the girl you help to put me to bed likes you.”

Oh shit. ‘I don’t want your fat friend I want you.’ I thought of saying, but that would not of worked. Then she kissed me on the cheek and I watched as her firm happy buttocks bounced out of the changing room. I felt like a little kid-shit.














A story by:
Geoffrey Alexander Parsons

[stilltrucking]

A good story well told... but what the fuck do I know.