Bill from Lumber

During the first semester of my senior year in high school, I took a job as a lot attendant at Home Depot. My duties were to push carts, and help customers load up their purchases, and then clean up all the shit from their cars they would ignorantly leave behind in the parking lot. Mine was basically the least important job in the entire building. I didn’t mind though because I was making $8.00 an hour, which was a lot to me at the time. Also, I had a few friends there which made it cool. My friend Lindsay was a cashier, and my friend Ryan worked there in the Lawn and Garden section. Ryan had worked there for a while, and his mom worked there too. She was a manager. I don’t remember her name though, I always just called her, Ryan’s mom. That’s probably the reason why she didn’t like me. There were a lot of managers, and most of them sucked. The one I really liked was Jack. Jack was about 5’8” with a medium build, and thick black hair with a goatee and glasses. He was born and raised in Boston, and spoke with an awesome accent. He would say stuff like, “Ryan, I want you to go out to the lawt and grab all the cawts from Lawn and Gawden.” “Okay” , I giddily replied. Then I would eagerly scurry off to comply with his demands. That guy is awesome, I would think to myself.

Other than Jack, not many managers ever really spoke to me. My main supervisor was the head cashier Katie. Katie was hot. I would always try to hang out at the podium with her and talk, but she was kind of a bitch. “I don’t date High School guys” , she would always tell me, even though I never asked her out. After a couple of weeks I realized that nobody really paid attention to what I was doing, or noticed that I was even there. There was a Sonic within walking distance that I would frequently visit for chicken sandwiches and tater tots. Other times I would just hang out in my car and smoke cigarettes while listening to music. As long as I checked in with Katie every twenty minutes or so, I would be fine.

One day about three weeks in, I was standing there talking to Katie about how I love corn-on-the-cob, but dislike corn, and how I think the corn loses its flavor when removed from the cob, when Jack approached me with a new employee. “Ryan, what the hell are you doin here. You should be out in the lawt pushing the cawts. This is the new guy Dan, now make yourself useful and show him the ropes.” Jack said, before walking off while muttering something about a Diet Coke. I wasn’t sure how to handle this situation. I’ve never had to train anybody before, and quite frankly I was shocked that they would ask me to do it. The fact that I was trusted to train Dan, or “Show him the ropes” as Jack so eloquently put it, made me feel kind of important, but for some reason instead of giving Dan proper training, I decided to go in a different direction. “ Follow me Dan” , I said to him, while leading him through the building. I weaved in and out of the aisles with him following me the entire way, until we reached the hardware section in the aisle with the ropes. “ There they are” , I said to Dan while pointing at the ropes. I then walked away as fast as possible, trying my hardest not to laugh.


Ten minutes later, I was in the parking lot rounding up some carts, still snickering about the rope thing. I’m hilarious, I thought to myself. I should probably go check on him.  I hope he isn’t still standing there by the ropes, like some kind of an idiot. As I walked back in the building I hear Jack making a page over the intercom, “ If anyone has any information regawding the whereabouts of my Diet Coke, please contact me in Lawn and Gawden.” I search everywhere for Dan, and finally find him by the Head Cashier’s podium talking to Katie. “C’mon” , I said while leading him away. “ We’ve got work to do, besides she doesn’t date high school guys.”
“I’m in college.” , Dan replied.
“Oh, that’s cool” , I snapped back while giving him the Go Fuck Yourself glare. “Big bad college guy, getting shown by the ropes by a high school kid.” That being said, I liked Dan, and we became friends after that day.


It was a slow Tuesday. I was bored and nobody cool seemed to be working that night. I went to hang out with Katie, but she was being super bitchy, so I proceeded out to my car to smoke a cigarette and listen to Ludacris. I had almost 100 cds, but only Ludacris and Eminem got any playtime. Tonight I was bumping Luda. As I lounged back in my seat exhaling my Marlboro Red, while listening to Luda’s “Growing pains” , I noticed a large shadowy figure approaching my passenger door. I recognized him as Bill from the lumber department. Bill was an intimidating man. He stood at 6’4” and weighed about 300 pounds, with a bulbous balding head slightly resembling Bam Bam Bigelow. He knocked on my window, and I cracked it ever so slightly. “ Give me one of those cigarettes queer bait” , he demanded. “ Umm, OK” , I nervously answered. I handed him a Marlboro through the window, and was startled when he opened the door and sat down next to me. “It’s a shame” , he said while lighting up. “I just quit”


It was rather uncomfortable sitting there with Bill. He had a look about him. A look that suggested he had spent time in prison, perhaps for running a cock fighting ring, or murdering a prostitute. It would not have shocked me at all, if I found out he was guilty of both. I mean, if I ever were to show up to work, and somebody would come up to me and say, "Hey did you hear about Bill from lumber?" I'd be like, "He murdered a prostitute didn't he?"

 In an attempt to alleviate the awkward silence in the car, I struck up a conversation with Bill. “Katie’s being a bitch tonight” , I said. “ I fucked her in the ass” , Bill snapped back.
“Seriously” , I asked in bewilderment. “ Fuck yeah” , he replied.
“That’s awesome” , I said. Even though I believed it to be highly unlikely that his claim was true. “I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here tonight” , Bill proclaimed. “ Yeah me too” , I said. “I’m going to eat a pizza and go to sleep.”
“I’m going to drink a 12 pack and jack off in your mom’s face” , Bill muttered. I completely disregarded the mom comment because it was at that moment, I realized that Bill was much older than me and could buy beer. I asked him to buy me a case, and he agreed to. We drove to a nearby gas station and bought a cold case of Bud Light. I was happy to have the beer, because it was tough obtaining alcohol while underage. I was a little skeptical about Bill though. Needless to say, this was not my last encounter with Bill from lumber.




There they are...



A few weeks after that, and Dan and I were hard at work. It was December and Christmas was in full effect. We had decorations up everywhere, people were wearing Santa Hats.  Ryan’s mom had Dan and I putting up Christmas displays. It felt good to be inside and away from the cold, even if just for a little bit. Jack approached us and said, “Hey fellas this is the new guy Paul, do me a favor and show him the ropes.” Dan and I made eye contact, and I nodded my head in approval. He knew just what to do. I chuckled to myself, while Dan led Paul towards the hardware section. I had completed a solid twenty consecutive minutes of work by that point, and decided a trip to Sonic was in my near future. After downing an order of tater tots in my car while listening to The Eminem Show, I headed back in, Once inside, I ran into Ryan and Dan and Ryan’s mom. “Are you coming to the Christmas party?” , Ryan’s mom inquired. “It’s at our house tomorrow night and you’re more than welcome to come.”

“OK” , I answered. “Maybe I will.” I had no intention of actually showing up, but the next night rolled around and I didn’t have anything to do, so I decided what the hell, I’ll make an appearance.

I pulled up to the house unsure of what to expect. Are the younger people going to be here? Are they going to let me drink? Will they be listening to Ludacris? I walked inside to a plethora of co-workers I never talk to. Jack was there accusing people of taking his Rum and Coke. Katie was there too with her new boyfriend. “He’s in high school” , Ryan told me. “Son of a bitch” , I said out loud. I looked around and noticed Bill from lumber by the appetizers. There was a giant plate of sandwiches, and Bill was scarfing them down. One after another, he didn’t even appear to be chewing. He would just stuff them in his face and they disappeared. The sandwiches looked really good though, and I wanted one. I figured I would need to act quickly before Bill ate everything including the plate, so I walked up to him grabbed a sandwich and said, “What’s up?” Bill offered me a beer that I gratefully accepted, and we talked for about 10 minutes. We both concurred that Katie’s boobs looked nice, and that her boyfriend was a tool. We also agreed that the elder cashier Betty probably looked hot back in the day. Bill told me he fucked her in the ass, which is yet another questionable statement made by him. Then he went on a rant about how much he hated his job. I didn’t mind the job, but figured the conversation would go better if I agreed with him. “Yeah our jobs suck” , I exclaimed. “My fucking job blows goats” , he shouted. I couldn’t help but laugh at that point. I’d never heard that expression before. For something to “Blow” , you must really dislike it, but for it to “Blow Goats” , well that’s an indication that you rank your job right between foot fungus and Nicolas Cage.

This dude blows goats

                                                                               

 Suddenly, we were interrupted by a commotion on the other side of the room. Ryan’s mom and her husband were getting into some kind of an argument, which was everybody’s cue to leave. It was still pretty early, only about 11 o clock, but the party sucked anyway so I really didn’t mind. As I was walking back to my car I heard somebody call my name. I turned around to find Bill doing the universal “Do you wanna smoke a J” hand motion. “You wanna get high” , he asked.
“Um, Yeah man” , I replied. Then I hopped in the passenger seat of his truck, and we drove off. “ Do you like Skynard” , he asked while pushing a disc in the CD player. “Sure” , I said. Even though that was bullshit. I already told you what my musical taste was like back then, and unless Skynard was a new rap duo of Ludacris and Eminem, chances were It wasn’t going to interest me.

As we drove around in Ryan’s subdivision I looked out the window while Bill rolled a joint, because I didn’t know how to. I had to admire what he was doing. It was a rather impressive display of multi-tasking. Driving and rolling a joint at the same time. I would find that very unpleasant, and would even go as far as to say that it would blow goats. Bill sparked up the J and passed it to me. He then reached into the backseat and grabbed a beer. He cracked open the beer and slammed it in less than 5 seconds, before reaching back to grab another. I found this to be pretty crazy. I mean, drinking and driving is one thing, but drinking while driving, well that just seems reckless. Bill slammed the second beer, crushed the can on his forehead and threw it out the window. Oh great I thought to myself, now he’s littering, although littering was most likely child's play to this guy, considering he has probably murdered prostitutes before. I tried my best to just chill out and enjoy my high while Bill was slamming beers, but it was tough. “Wooooohoooooo” , Bill screamed at the top of his lungs while reaching to the back seat for a third time. Only this time, he must’ve been out of beer, because he pulled out a handle of Captain Morgan that was half empty. Don’t judge me for calling it half empty either. My circumstances prevented me from carrying an optimistic disposition. Bill turned the bottle of Captain Morgan upside down and chugged an ungodly amount of alcohol while I watched in terror. At this point, I should’ve said something. At this point I should’ve tried to calm him down, but he was smoking his weed with me, and I wanted to get high. So instead of being the voice of reason, I said something like, “Dude….You’re a rebel.”

That statement only set him off more. “Woooooooohooooooo” , Bill shouted again while accelerating to a speed of 45mph in a 25mph zone. “ What are you doing” , I anxiously asked him. By the time I finished that sentence he was going 55mph. I waited too long. He had lost it. Then, just when I thought Bill couldn’t be more of a nut job, he swerved the truck up into someone’s front lawn and started driving in people’s yards. “Wooohoooo” he yelled once again while taking another big chug of Captain. “ Dude, what are you doing? Stop it please” , I begged of him. Bill nearly took out a mailbox and then somehow avoided a collision with a parked  car, before intentionally running over a snowman. “ Got that motherfucker” , He proudly boasted.

R.I.P.

“I really think we should use the street” , I politely suggested, doing my best job of trying to not act terrified. “Fuck the street” , he slurred while driving through yet another yard. “You see that house there” , he said pointing to a two-story on our left. “The chick that lives there, I fucked her in the ass. “

“I highly doubt that Bill” , I shouted back.  Just then he turned the corner and there we were, back at Ryan’s house. “Here you are queer bait” , Bill muttered while pointing at my car. I quickly exited the truck, hopped in my Tempo, and headed home. The next day I called Ryan to tell him about me experience. He laughed his ass off, and told me that Dan wound up having people over. "You should have stopped by" , he said. "It was a good time, we all drank White Russians while watching The Big Lebowski."
 "Son of a bitch" , I said angrily. "I would've loved that."

I worked there for 4 or 5 months after that night, but I made a conscience effort to keep my distance from the lumber section.Ten years later, I still think about that night from time time. I can laugh at it now, but at the time it wasn't funny at all. It blew goats.

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