It was a normal day for Brad. He was winding down from work with an ice cream cone in the park at dusk. For him, there was no great joy than ice cream in the park on a hot summer evening.
Then, he saw her, tall with long black hair. She was dressed in a purple and black leotard, with matching knee-high boots and elbow gloves. She finish the look with a black and purple cape and a golden circlet. Who the heck was she and why was she wearing that? He found himself unable to look away.
Suddenly, she looked his way and stopped. "Well, what's this? It seems I've found a minion to help aid me in my cause." She started walking his way until she was right in front of him. "Come, minion. We have work to do."
What was going on? "What do you mean, lady? And who are you anyway?"
"Behold, minion, for I am The Temptress, an up and coming supervillain. My goal is world domination and I am looking for minions. Will you join me?"
Brad looked around. Nobody seemed to notice what was gong on. Was he the only one seeing this? "Why do you want to dominate the world?"
"It just seems like it'd be nice to do," she said. "Now join me and we will rule over these maggots."
Brad was starting to understand. "Oh, I get it now. This is one of those shows where actors play practical jokes on innocent people." He looked around. "You got me. Where's the camera?"
"There are no cameras," she said. "This is no mere television show. This is real life. I'm going to conquer the world. I mean it. I just need a little help from some minions."
He decided to play along. "Some how much does being a minion pay? Does it include dental and a 401k plan?"
"We can work all of that out later."
"Do you have a secret lair where we'll live and will we have to pay rent?"
She frowned. "Are you making fun of me, minion?"
He nodded. "Pretty much."
"But you were looking at me so hard," she said sadly. "Did my powers not work?"
"If by powers, you mean a sexy outfit and a body that won't quit, they're working."
"So, you don't want to be a minion? All you're doing is fantasizing about me?"
"Yep."
"Huh?" she said. "Perhaps you'll change your mind after dinner. I know a place on a hill where we can dine as we gaze down upon the maggots we will one day rule over."
She was crazy, but hot. Was it worth the risk? What could it hurt? "That sounds good, but let's hold off on the talk of world domination and ruling over maggots for now."
She smiled. "Very well, but you must give me an answer at the end of the night."
He had no intention on being a minion, but a dinner date could tip the scales. A little sex wouldn't hurt, either. "Fair enough."
Friday, March 23, 2018
Sunday, March 4, 2018
Supermarket Managers: Mark
It was a sunny day when Mark opened the doors to The Supermarket. Customers came in smiling and left smiling. Employees were smiling as the rang up customers' orders. It was a perfect exchange of money for good. It was the ideal way for a store to be run.
Then, he showed up. The one customer everyone hated seeing. He was a fairly old man, perhaps 59 or 60, who always came in and made snide comments. The employees didn't like him, but Mark always said, "he's a customer. He'll leave once he's done shopping."
What would this customer say or do today? Nothing yet, but he just walked in. Everyone knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time.
Mark walked around, checking different areas of the store, when he made it to the deli. The customer was there, being served. Once he got what he wanted, he said to the deli worker, "I remember when negroes didn't used to work here. Ah, the good old days."
The deli worker, who was Black, saw Mark and looked over as if he wanted to say, "Do something about this guy."
Mark came over. "Are you happy with your service, sir?"
The man smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Product looks as good as ever." Away he walked.
Mark and the deli worker looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
Mark walked around for a bit when he came across the customer again. He was in the candy isle, ogling a young female stocker. "You need to wear a miniskirt next time. Oh, and try not to wear any panties, either."
The stocker looked at Mark, as if to say, "Help me."
Away the customer walked.
Mark and the stocker looked each other and shook their heads.
From there, Mark headed up to the registers to help ring up customers. It was busy, but things were moving along. As usual, it was smiling customers and smiling employees.
Then, it was time for the customer to be rung up. Everything was going smoothly. As expected, though, things hit a rough patch. He looked at the cashier and asked, "Are you sure you're legal here?"
The cashier, who was Latino, looked over to Mark.
Mark finished ringing up his current customer and headed over to help. "Is something going on, sir?"
The customer looked at him and pointed at the cashier. "When did you start hiring illegals?"
"Listen here," Mark said calmly. "You've been insulting my employees all day. Now I appreciate value every customer who walks through the door, but that doesn't mean you can walk around insulting my employees. I'd like to ask you to refrain from doing so."
The customer looked at him, incredulous to what he was hearing. "I'm the customer, so that means I'm always right. If I want your females to wear miniskirts, you should make it happen. If I want to shop somewhere untainted by Blacks and Latinos, then you need to fire them all."
Mark found himself having to do something he never thought he'd have to do. "Take your stuff, leave the store, and please don't come back."
"What'll you do if I do come back?"
"I don't know," Mark said. "I just might have to knock you retarded."
The customer shoved him. "Say what?"
"Get out of my store or I'm going to knock you retarded," Mark said, shoving him back.
"I want to talk to your boss," the customer growled.
A man standing behind the courtesy desk said, "I'm the store director. I've seen everything and deemed my manager to be in the right. We don't want trash like you shopping here. Take your goods and don't come back."
The customer looked around and said, "You all can kiss my ass!" Then he stormed off.
The store director said, "You handled things well, Mark. I'm proud of you."
"Thank you, sir," Mark said.
With the issue resolved, it was business as usual.
Then, he showed up. The one customer everyone hated seeing. He was a fairly old man, perhaps 59 or 60, who always came in and made snide comments. The employees didn't like him, but Mark always said, "he's a customer. He'll leave once he's done shopping."
What would this customer say or do today? Nothing yet, but he just walked in. Everyone knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time.
Mark walked around, checking different areas of the store, when he made it to the deli. The customer was there, being served. Once he got what he wanted, he said to the deli worker, "I remember when negroes didn't used to work here. Ah, the good old days."
The deli worker, who was Black, saw Mark and looked over as if he wanted to say, "Do something about this guy."
Mark came over. "Are you happy with your service, sir?"
The man smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Product looks as good as ever." Away he walked.
Mark and the deli worker looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
Mark walked around for a bit when he came across the customer again. He was in the candy isle, ogling a young female stocker. "You need to wear a miniskirt next time. Oh, and try not to wear any panties, either."
The stocker looked at Mark, as if to say, "Help me."
Away the customer walked.
Mark and the stocker looked each other and shook their heads.
From there, Mark headed up to the registers to help ring up customers. It was busy, but things were moving along. As usual, it was smiling customers and smiling employees.
Then, it was time for the customer to be rung up. Everything was going smoothly. As expected, though, things hit a rough patch. He looked at the cashier and asked, "Are you sure you're legal here?"
The cashier, who was Latino, looked over to Mark.
Mark finished ringing up his current customer and headed over to help. "Is something going on, sir?"
The customer looked at him and pointed at the cashier. "When did you start hiring illegals?"
"Listen here," Mark said calmly. "You've been insulting my employees all day. Now I appreciate value every customer who walks through the door, but that doesn't mean you can walk around insulting my employees. I'd like to ask you to refrain from doing so."
The customer looked at him, incredulous to what he was hearing. "I'm the customer, so that means I'm always right. If I want your females to wear miniskirts, you should make it happen. If I want to shop somewhere untainted by Blacks and Latinos, then you need to fire them all."
Mark found himself having to do something he never thought he'd have to do. "Take your stuff, leave the store, and please don't come back."
"What'll you do if I do come back?"
"I don't know," Mark said. "I just might have to knock you retarded."
The customer shoved him. "Say what?"
"Get out of my store or I'm going to knock you retarded," Mark said, shoving him back.
"I want to talk to your boss," the customer growled.
A man standing behind the courtesy desk said, "I'm the store director. I've seen everything and deemed my manager to be in the right. We don't want trash like you shopping here. Take your goods and don't come back."
The customer looked around and said, "You all can kiss my ass!" Then he stormed off.
The store director said, "You handled things well, Mark. I'm proud of you."
"Thank you, sir," Mark said.
With the issue resolved, it was business as usual.
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