Canned For Getting PickledAs soon as Alisha was safely inside, I raced to a payphone.
“She fired me, man.”
“No shit? When?”
“Just now.”
“What happened?”
“That bitch Eva screwed me, man.”
“Whaaaaat?” I asked, a little concerned that not only was I taking on the personality traits of my employer but I was starting to sound like her too.
“We got drunk at the Peninsula instead of going to a call and Eva told her my car broke down and then we went on a call and she never came out so I went home and made myself a sandwich and Eva told Jennifer I was drunk and went home to sleep it off, man. What a bitch. I didn’t think she’d do that to me. . .”
“Wait. You got drunk with Eva at the Peninsula instead of going on a call?”
“Yeah, man. She didn’t want to go so she invited me to have one little drink with her. . .”
“Jennifer had already given you a call and you just didn’t go?”
“You don’t understand, man. Eva didn’t want to go. . .”
“Oh, man. So what? Your job isn’t drinking. That client thought she was coming and you and Eva. . .never mind. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to beg Jennifer for my job back, man.”
“Good luck, man.”
The next phone call was to my son.
“Hey, man. I got you a job,” I announced.
“A job? Pimping?”
“It’s not pimping. It’s driving. Pimping is when you make money off...no, wait, pimping is when you take money from...no. It’s not pimping. It’s driving. Driving Chloie. Two nights a week. Try to get at least $100 a night out of the stingy witch.”
“That ho be scammin’ yo ass, eh?” he laughed. My tall, thin, half asian and very asian-looking son listens to a lot of rap music and thinks he’s black.
“Let’s see you do better. Just remember: no hitting on her and don’t lose her. Looks bad if you can’t remember where you left ‘em. You start tomorrow. Righteous?”
“It’s all good, man.”
From that day forward, the whole time Jimmy drove Chloie, he came home every work night complaining about that skeeze Chloie jacking him out of up to half of his driving fee.
“Hey, Lynn, not working tonight?”
“She fired me, man.”
“No shit? When?”
“Just now.”
“What happened?”
“That bitch Eva screwed me, man.”
“Whaaaaat?” I asked, a little concerned that not only was I taking on the personality traits of my employer but I was starting to sound like her too.
“We got drunk at the Peninsula instead of going to a call and Eva told her my car broke down and then we went on a call and she never came out so I went home and made myself a sandwich and Eva told Jennifer I was drunk and went home to sleep it off, man. What a bitch. I didn’t think she’d do that to me. . .”
“Wait. You got drunk with Eva at the Peninsula instead of going on a call?”
“Yeah, man. She didn’t want to go so she invited me to have one little drink with her. . .”
“Jennifer had already given you a call and you just didn’t go?”
“You don’t understand, man. Eva didn’t want to go. . .”
“Oh, man. So what? Your job isn’t drinking. That client thought she was coming and you and Eva. . .never mind. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to beg Jennifer for my job back, man.”
“Good luck, man.”
The next phone call was to my son.
“Hey, man. I got you a job,” I announced.
“A job? Pimping?”
“It’s not pimping. It’s driving. Pimping is when you make money off...no, wait, pimping is when you take money from...no. It’s not pimping. It’s driving. Driving Chloie. Two nights a week. Try to get at least $100 a night out of the stingy witch.”
“That ho be scammin’ yo ass, eh?” he laughed. My tall, thin, half asian and very asian-looking son listens to a lot of rap music and thinks he’s black.
“Let’s see you do better. Just remember: no hitting on her and don’t lose her. Looks bad if you can’t remember where you left ‘em. You start tomorrow. Righteous?”
“It’s all good, man.”
From that day forward, the whole time Jimmy drove Chloie, he came home every work night complaining about that skeeze Chloie jacking him out of up to half of his driving fee.
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