Monday, March 9, 2009

Groceing: The Story of a Sex Worker

Claudia knew it was going to be a long day. She sat heavily on the stool in front of the counter and ordered a milkshake. It was her fourth one that day. You might say she had a problem, but c'mon, they were milkshakes. She wasn't fat or anything. She just liked milkshakes. Gosh.
"What's the good word?" Max asked her from behind the counter. Max was a World War Two vet and was slowly dying from wounds he suffered consulting on Saving Private Ryan.
"There are no good words." Claudia replied. She looked down at the scars on her wrists from being tied to one too many spinning wheels. Her former lover was a knife thrower.
"What about xenophobia? That one is kinda cool." Max asked. His liver slowly morphing into a shredded cheese from all the drinking it took to put up with Tom Hanks inability to come off as a real soldier.
"You know, I hadn't thought of that. What else?" Claudia put her wrists away in her sleeves, where they came from.
"Polymer." Max smiled. His back acting up again from trying to show the crew what a PT boat was used for and having them board him and float him onto Newport beach.
Claudia smiled back. Maybe it wouldn't be a long day. Her outlook had just improved 93%. She had a calculator hooked to a mood ring and while none of this was scientific, it made good filler for this awesome story that has yet to involve monkeys.
It was time to put the milkshakes down and make something of her day.
She moved the milkshake away and told Max that she wouldn't be finishing the rest.
"Oh, really?" Max raised an eyebrow and then put it back down where it was stuck to his "Memories 09" photo album that contained eyebrows from the various movie stars that would frequent the restaurant.
"That's right. Today I'm going to make a change. Today I'm gonna reach for the skies."
"That sounds fine."
Claudia walked out of the malt shop and across the street to the grocery store where she went to the service desk.
"I want to become a grocer." Claudia demanded and emptied her purse on the desk. "I believe this is all in order."
"A what?" The woman working the counter was noticeably annoyed.
"A grocer. I want to groce." Claudia punctuated the statement by lifting a roll of Halls up and displaying it for the woman.
The woman stared at her for a full minute, then finally pulled an application out and handed it to Claudia. "We have a position open to push carts."
"I want to groce." Claudia demanded. Her face was red and she realized that she'd never wanted something so badly in her entire life.
"Listen lady, I don't think you can groce. I think you become a grocer, but that means you own the entire company. I don't think you can do that without starting your own business." In truth, the woman behind the desk did not know any of this for sure, and that is why she was basically your run of the mill liar.
"Then I will start my own business. Groceing." Claudia collected the contents of her purse and walked out of the store with the application.
Back at her apartment she began pricing the items in her kitchen with tape and a pen. Then, she cut up her mail and made confetti for the grand opening.
Next, Claudia wrote a note for the entire world of Facebook: "Now I must spread the word."
She knocked on every apartment and let the folks at Ridge Heights know that she was open for business.
Hours later a man showed up and began going through her cupboards. He left with some Top Ramen and a beer. $1.45.
"This groceing business is booming!" Claudia told her mother over the phone. "Just today, I had nine customers. And I made $20.00! And I have an order for razor blades and flour, so I'm going to use that $20.00 to purchase them. This is how groceing works!" But Claudia was wrong, groceing had more math to it. The kind of math that only those math guys know.
"Member that time I ate a rattlesnake?" Her mother replied.
Years later, Claudia would become a groceing giant and those that doubted her would die terrible deaths at the hands of a fleet of evil trees that sailed the seas looking for naysayers of any kind.
These trees would become storied elements of countless books on sea folklore and you probably will have grandchildren that will read about them and wonder about how trees could talk and exact revenge.
As for Claudia, most of you are wondering how she finally was able to turn a profit.Well, she began selling sex and drugs as well as packets of Ranch mix and peanut butter. But that doesn't mean that she failed in any way. It just means that she needed some extra incentive to get people in the door. This is all capitalism. You can read about it in any textbook about capitalism.

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