Joe Oafman climbed into his truck and hung his head. The twelve-hour February workday brought about promise on his paycheck but it also brought about a thumping headache. He leaned forward and massaged his temples, playing out the last job which kept him over. The customer had just moved into a rental house and complained about a clogged toilet. It took him three hours to pull the culprit out- a pair of glasses. The previous owner was forced to move into a retirement home after breaking his hip and apparently decided on this final act of revenge. Joe wouldn't mind getting revenge on the fool who talked him into going into the plumbing field.
It doesn't matter...
I'm a lucky man...
Joe popped an Aleve and got on the street. He hit three red lights and made all the progress of three miles in twenty minutes. The red light changed. He eased forward behind the twenty cars ahead of him. If they'd move just a little bit quicker, he'd beat the light. That was it. Just speed up a bit. Yes. We're getting there. It's going to be all right...if this damn headache will calm down. Yes, just a little bit...oh come on, man. Move it. And there's the red light. If that one damn car had sped up, he would have made it. He sank into his seat. His phone rang. He put it on speaker. His wife said, “Are you on your way?”
Joe sighed. “I guess you could say that.”
“Preston, sit down. No. Sit down in your seat. I won't tell you again. Hey, Joe. Are you on your way?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“Yeah!”
“Well, don't bite my head off. Preston, sit down. I won't tell you again. Joe, how close are you?”
“Not real close.”
“Stop and get some toilet paper.”
Great...
If I would've known that old man would get me like this, I would've stolen some of his toilet paper before he shattered his old hip...
Ah, hell, I shouldn't think that way...
His wife said, “Somebody had to use a whole roll in there. He could sit down just fine then. Preston, I won't say it again.”
“Well, he's a growing boy, I guess.”
“Get the toilet paper.”
“Yeah.”
“Preston, be quiet. Okay, bye.”
“Yeah.”
“Wait.”
“Yeah?”
“Don't sound so irritated.”
“What is it?”
“Hold on.”
Phone handling noises ensued. Then Preston said, “Daddy.”
“Hey, buddy. What's going on?”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“Aw, I love you, too, bud. You being a good boy?”
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, son?”
“I want M & Ms, the peanut ones.”
Joe sighed. He rubbed his temple again.
“Okay, Daddy. Bye.”
Joe waited for more.
Nothing happened.
Joe set his phone in his console and got behind another slow-poke and hit the next red light. And the next one. And then a four-way intersection consisted of drivers who were unsure when to go. Joe didn't wait. A few honks trailed behind him with a few choice words. He turned into the Dollar General store and parked in the only available spot, farthest from the store. He climbed out and rubbed his head on the way inside. Then he lumbered around the store. The toilet paper was in the back corner. He grabbed up a pack and then headed to the candy aisle where they had plenty of M & Ms- plain and almond and peanut butter.
No peanut M & Ms...
Wonderful...
Joe headed up to the line up front. The candy shelves up front contained no peanut M & Ms either. The cashier scanned the pack of toilet paper. The register beeped. He said, “That'll be...um...” He scanned the toilet paper pack again. “That's going to be...um...hold on...” He left the register and headed toward the back, saying, “Margie? The register's acting up again. Margie? Has anybody seen Margie? Margie May?” A tall, smiling guy with sunglasses on headed out the door with a pack of toilet paper under each arm. Joe pointed and looked at the other customers in line behind him. Some yawned. Others glared at him like he was their sworn enemy for being at the front of the line. He lowered his arm and closed his eyes.
Ten minutes of the clerk's fumbling and Margie May's mentorship, Joe left out of there and drove around, looking for stores with peanut M & Ms. Four red lights later, he rubbed his head and entered a different Dollar General store. The shelves by the registers proved fruitless. He hustled over to the candy aisle. There was a section for peanut M & Ms but it sat empty. A tall, smiling guy in sunglasses strolled by him with a yellow package poking out of his jacket pocket. He followed him. The guy walked straight out of the store. Joe pointed to the guy and looked at the cashier. Only, there was no cashier and a long line waiting. They, too, glared at him like he still stood at the front of the line. He sighed and left.
Joe got into his truck. He rubbed his eyes. Then he opened them to a hazy darkness with scattered lit-up signs in different directions in his rearview mirror. He smacked his lips. The one sign had a drawing of a cartoon guy holding a brown paper sack. The sacks inside the grocery store would definitely be white plastic but maybe they would have the sacred peanut-filled candies that young Preston demanded. The traffic moved up an inch at the red light. He grunted his way out of the truck and hoofed it across the street and marched his boots that now felt like lead across the parking lot and into the grocery store.
The place resembled Lowe's on the inside with aisle after aisle after aisle of what looked like miles of gray, arthritis-inducing stone that led to various goodies. He found the candy aisle near the back and then he found the M & Ms at the back of that. A big box of peanut M & Ms sat there in all its glory. He nodded and took a breath. He marched forward. A cart entered his path. A lady with a gray bun on her head wheeled the cart, surrounded by hopping kids with gray beanies on their heads. Joe waited. She looked at the M & Ms before her but she kept her cart directly in front of the peanut variety, cutting off all hope of Joe getting to them. She looked at the candies and then at her phone...and then back at the candies...and then back at her phone...and then closer at the candies...and closer at the phone...
Joe went into temple-rubbing mode again. He popped his eyes open. The kids hopped and smiled at him. He rubbed his eyes. The older lady wheeled forward. Then she stopped. He leaned on the candy rack. She wheeled forward. Then she stopped again. He smacked his lips. She moved up ahead and stopped. However, she no longer blocked the peanut M & Ms. Joe swooped in and snatched up a bag and headed up front.
The self-checkouts were all occupied but not for long. Joe zipped to the middle one on the left side and swiped the candy and tossed it into a bag and hit the card button and entered his card and typed in the pin number. The machine beeped. He entered and tried again. It gave him the beep again with no explanation about why it wasn't working. A worker was helping another guy with his self-checkout but he noticed Joe and held up an “in a minute” finger. Joe held on for three minutes...four. The guy stepped over and swiped his card and then let Joe try again. It gave him a different beep this time. He wiped his brow and hustled out of the grocery and onto his truck where he climbed inside. His guts grumbled.
After this day...
Yes...
Joe called his wife and said, “You know, I was thinking-
She said, “Did you get the toilet paper?”
“I did. I was thinking-
“Preston, sit down now. Okay. Sit down. Okay, Joe. What do you want?”
“Well, I know our account's not in the best shape.”
“It sure isn't. You did get the discount toilet paper. Didn't you?”
“I did. But I was thinking about picking up sub sandwiches for us. I really need one after this day. What do you think?”
“Hhhmmm.”
“I...really need it.”
Preston screamed in the background. Joe grimaced and held the phone away from his ear until the screaming stopped. She said, “I don't think so, Joe. Maybe we can get you a sub this weekend after you get paid and everything. Besides these frozen dinners won't eat themselves.”
“I could really use it.”
“Aw, I hear you. I know you've had a long day. Maybe we can get you a foot-long this weekend. You could get two sandwiches out of it.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Yeah...I guess...”
“Okay. Well, get on home. Preston's wanting his M & Ms. Love you.”
“Love you.”
Joe rested his head on his steering wheel. Then he leaned back up. Well, drastic problems called for drastic solutions. He climbed out of his truck and leaned down to a knee and reached up under his seat and peeled the twenty-dollar emergency bill off the bottom of the seal, taking half the Scotch tape with it. Then he grinned and climbed back into the cab and drove through relatively light traffic over to the deli.
Joe entered the deli and rubbed his hands together. Another customer passed by him, frowning his way out the door. He smelled like a sewer drain. Joe moved on ahead. A young woman popped up from behind the counter. Joe wobbled. She giggled and said, “Sorry about that. What can I get you?”
Now that's a warm smile...
Joe said, “I just need a six-inch cold cut on white bread.”
“I can do that. Salami and ham and baloney?”
Joe held up a “not so fast” hand gesture. “I want all baloney, with a little lettuce.”
She giggled. “You're just like my husband.”
“He sounds like a smart man.”
“Sometimes. Gosh, we get some complicated orders in here. It's refreshing to get such a simple one.”
“My wife thinks it's too simple.”
“Oh...what do spouses know?”
Joe chuckled. She went down the line, sticking to Joe's instructions but also asking him all the sandwich options. She made it to the register. “Would you like chips and a drink?”
“No, ma'am. I'm on a budget.”
“I hear you there.”
She rang him up and he handed her the twenty. She studied it and peeled a bit of Scotch tape off the corner. Then she gave him his change. He thanked her and headed for the door. A new customer stepped through the door. Joe stepped aside and stumbled. The man was tall and wore a big smile and sunglasses and kept his hands in his pockets. Joe got on a knee and tied his boot. Then he stood up and gave a wave to the woman behind the counter. The new customer stood at the register already and the woman stared up at him like he was a ghost.
Joe stepped outside and brought his sandwich bag up to his nose and breathed it in. Then he gripped the bag a few times. He searched through the bag. She'd placed a chocolate chip cookie in there for him, free of charge.
What a great gal...
With her warm smile...
And that terrified look?
Joe returned to the front door. The tall customer stood there and the poor woman emptied her register.
That son of a...
Well, I should get home...
I am a lucky man...
Yeah...
Lucky because of warm people like her...
Joe stepped back from the door and hunkered down. The tall man opened the door and stepped through, wearing that big smile.
Smile at this...
Joe sprang up and rammed his sandwich into the smiling robber's mouth, dropping him to the ground. His smile vanished. The sunglasses flew onto the concrete. The guy's hand was in his jacket pocket. He pushed it up. Something shiny protruded from the pocket. Joe grabbed his wrist and held it down. He kept stuffing the sandwich into the robber's mouth. The robber coughed and hacked. The woman inside was on the phone now, watching them with teary eyes and an open mouth.
Someone walking by said, “Hey! What are you doing to that man, you brute?”
The robber struggled against him, but Joe held him in place. Another passer said, “You get off him, you jerk.”
The crowd gathered round with more comments. Many of them took out their cell phones and filmed the incident. Joe stuck to his guns, holding the man down. The robber spat out precious baloney onto the pavement. One of the crowd said, “You're going to jail. You know that. Right?”
“He doesn't care. He just attacks innocent people.”
“I put in fifty hours a week, plumbing toilets. I bet this guy's never put in an honest day's work.”
“What a barbarian.”
“We'll see what Youtube thinks of his brutality. We have evidence now, pal. Let him up.”
“I've got him on TikTok!”
“I'm loading him onto Instagram!”
“You're going viral! Stick that up your toilet!”
The blue lights reflecting in the windows dispersed a good portion of the crowd. A few hung around in the name of “justice”. The police knew the score and drew their weapons, commanding Joe to get off the robber. Joe willed himself to his feet and leaned against the wall. Two officers grabbed up the robber and turned him around and handcuffed him. A few folks called it inhumane. They questioned Joe for a while. The deli woman thanked him and gave him a hug. There would be no more sandwiches made for tonight-corporate policy. The police walked the robber to their SUV. He continued to smile like he'd won and kept his eyes closed, like he was still wearing the sunglasses and like he could pass through anywhere without the world's rules touching him, even through traffic with his eyes closed.
Maybe HE'S the lucky man...
The whole scene cleared up, leaving Joe in the darkness. He slumped down and leaned his back to the wall and pulled his coat tightly around himself. He picked up a piece of baloney from the sidewalk and breathed it in.
This has such an interesting vibe to it, I really like it. I feel the poor guys exhaustion lol
I really like the photo too.