Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Smeeping, smeading, thandoking and stompoking.

About six or eight months ago I was loafing around outside the store with a broom in my hand and smoking a cigarette. I also had the rug for the front door draped over the fence out there at the edge of the parking lot because I was about to give it a thorough whomping on with the broom, so as to beat the shit - I mean, the dirt - out of it. It's not really a bad rug, per se; it just deserves a severe beating every now and then. Such is the life of a doormat.

I wasn't quite ready to commence the beating of the rug though, as there are other things that take precedence. Like smeeping (smoking and sweeping), for instance. Smeeping always comes before other outside-at-work activities, like emptying the trash and the beating of the rug. However, smeading (smoking and reading) trumps everything, and that's what I was doing right at that moment. Smeading, and getting ready to smeep the parking lot before I stompoked (standing, whomping and smoking) the doormat.

As I was thandoking (thinking, standing and smoking) about the severity of which that rug was about to get whomped on with the broom (a violent stompoking, that is), this girl rode up on a skateboard and stopped next to the fence where I was smeading, thandoking and stompoking, and started talking to me.

Said she.

Said I.

'Don't you ever get to go home?'

'Nope, never. They sentenced me to here as punishment for something from my past life. Reincarnated as a rug beater for a sin that I don't even remember doing.'

'Wow. So this is your penance, to beat this rug with a broom for all eternity?'

'Yeah, looks that way. Six years down, only infinity to go... at least I'm not the rug though, right?'

'And at least you're not the broom, too.'

'Hmmm... yeah.'

'So, which would be worse, getting reincarnated as the rug or as the broom? Or the rug beater?'

'Well, wait a second. Not the rug beater, because you're the one who gets to punish the rug and the broom.'

'Huh... yeah, I guess that'd be right. What kind of shenanigans would you had to have pulled to get reincarnated as the rug though, I wonder?'

'Probably crapping on the rug would get you turned into the rug.'

'Like dog crap?'

'Yeah. Dogs that crap on the rug come back as rugs. But not just dogs though, pretty much anything that shits on the carpet will get the rug treatment.'

'So you're saying... what you mean is, that if I had shat upon this rug just now, that I'd be reincarnated as a door mat?


'Dang. Wow, that's good to know. Thanks!'

'No problem.'

'Because right before you rode up, I was thinking about taking a squat on this very rug, just for shits and giggles.'

'Really? Well, then it's a good thing that I got here when I did, because you just slipped...'

'... slipped through the cruel fingers of fate. I know, right?'
'What about the broom, then?'
Said I.

'Kitty litter that's clumped up with cat piss and kittyshit that's been kicked everywhere, just all over the floor and the adjoining rug and the clothes hamper - even on the bed, because you'd have to use a broom on it, and how could a broom possibly enjoy that? So, yeah. The broom is reserved solely for cats. Cats get the broom, and nobody else. Just cats... those stuck up, ungrateful little free-loading shits.'
Said she.

'I suppose I'm in aggreeance for the most part... but an infinitesimally tiny yet significant portion of kiki-meows are actually friendly and not assholes. I actually like those kitties.'

'Well, I've never met one.'

'So the hierarchy would go like this, from top to bottom - rug beater, broom, rug, kitty litter stuck all up in a broom, dog shit on a rug...? No, wait. There's the customer, who would have to be one rank higher up than the rug beater.'


'Because the customer is there to torment the rug beater.'

'Ha! The customer gets reincarnated as a rug beater!'


'Whatsa matter?'
Said she.

'Yeah. Well, that answers THAT question, at least.'
Said I.

'What question?'

'What is the Matrix.'

'What is the matrix?'

'Are you asking me what the Matrix is, or are you repeating what I said just to make sure you heard it right?'

'Uh... both, I guess.'

'Ok. First, yeah, that's what I said. And to answer your question: The Matrix is a virtual representation of hell, into which your consciousness is uploaded at the exact instant of your corporeal death, where it will experience the rest of eternity doing penance for mortal sins.'


'An eternity of fun.'
'What's your name?'


'Really? Cool name!'

And so it proceeded. She said she liked my long hair, and I asked her if she goes to UNT and if she rides her skateboard everywhere. She doesn't go to UNT, but she does ride her skateboard everywhere, and I responded with reciprocal information, but by walking everywhere as opposed to riding. Back and forth it went like that, for a little while.

Then she noticed my fingernails.

'Hey, cool. I like your nails.'

'Oh! Thanks. See, what happened was, way back in the 20th century I lived in Austin with a roommate. Becky was her name way back in the olden days of yore, but she goes by Rebecca now. I like Becky better. Anywho, one day Becky and I were sitting on the couch in the living room, just chillin'. I think I was reading or playing a video game or something, and Becky was painting her fingernails. The next thing I knew, Becky had ahold of my left hand and was painting the thumbnail with blue fingernail polish. I was so stunned that I just sat there, slack jawed and drooling, watching as it happened. After I'd recovered my wits, I decided that I kinda liked having my thumbnail painted, so I started doing that to all of my nails. Black though, not blue.'

'My nails are painted blue, but it's chipping and falling off, as you can see. And I only just painted them day before yesterday.'

'I use this stuff called miracle gel or something. It's a clear coat that goes on over the black, and it lasts for a couple of weeks.'

'Gel what? Gel? Miracle gel? What's the brand name?'

'That's it, I think. Gel is printed on the bottle so I assumed that was the brand.'

'I should get some of that.'

'Oh, but it's stupid expensive. About $8 a bottle. And that's two bottles - the color one and the clear coat. It makes it stay on longer though.'

'Holy cripes on a crutch!'

'Yeah, me too... I can't believe I just gave nail polish advice to a chick.'

Long story short, guess what happened several months ago? I actually gave fingernail polish advice to a chick.

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