After a long night of hellacious downpours, the sun is shining bright on the holler this Sunday morning. It would be perfect if I had my newspaper to curl up with, but apparently the paper carrier took the day off.
I'm not even going to bother calling and complaining. My luck hasn't been all that great lately and I don't want to get the paper girl all riled up.
For those of you keeping up with the weekend's festivities, Frog Pond Holler's finest was called out to the campground again yesterday when a woman injured her back by falling off a motorcycle.
There was an urgency to the call, due to the fact that the woman was recovering from recent back surgery.
Now I ask you.. how much flippen beer do you have to drink before it becomes a good idea to heave your big butt up on the back of a Harley while recovering from back surgery? I'm pretty sure that since the accident occurred on the campground, that she wasn't just out for a leisurely ride. There are all sorts of wild reindeer games involved at these little get togethers, one of which I'm sure she was a willing participant.
How I happen know so much about these events, really isn't important.
*cough*
Anywho...
Back at the Asylum on Friday, I walked in to Thelma's office just in time to witness her slamming the phone down and launching in to a tirade of ginormous proportions. She had been calling the Grab n' Go (and go and go and go) to order lunch. The Grab n' Go is the choice for breakfast and lunch up at the Asylum, because they deliver and they let you run a tab.
Personally, I stopped ordering from down there. Aside from the extreme greasiness of everything on the menu (causing the "go and go and go" experience) I was agitated by their unwillingness to allow me to pay my bill. I'd go out to meet the delivery person with a check, being told that only one certain employee could collect money, and they weren't The One. I sent the Amazon down to the G n' G with my debit card one evening to pay it and after lots of uncouth yelling from the cash register to the cookline by
"It" apparently being the act of opening the notebook with your name and how much you owe written in it, which is kept behind the register, marking through the total and writing "Paid" beside it.
Oh and by the way, I owed them a whopping total of $17.
"But Mahala," I hear you ask, "what the hell does this have to do with Thelma?"
Oh yeah.. Thelma was angry because back a few weeks ago, both she and Louise agreed to come work at the Grab n' Go (and go and go and go) in exchange for paying off what they owe. Both of them have tabs in excess of $500. Now, whenever they try to place an order, they're told they're needed to work over the weekend, usually when there's a big event planned in town.
I've always wondered why it seems like everyone in town works at the G n' G all summer long. Now I know why. It's like the Hillbilly Mafia.
(My apologies to the entire Italian population for the following... in my best Godfather impression...)
"All winter you eata the cheez a' burger, the frencha fries. I'ma good to you.. I take a' care of you. Now I needa you, to take a' care of me. Capiche?"
Some of you are thinking.. "but Mahala, didn't Thelma and Louise realize that their free ride couldn't go on forever?"
Well.. no.. I don't think they did. And.. Thelma already works at the Asylum full time and has a part time job down at the Pump n' Go, where her dad is the manager and the Amazon is second in command. When is she going to work a third job?
In the mean time, I witnessed Louise coming out of the Grab n' Go Friday morning with a big styrofoam box full of goodies on my way to work. She can get food because she sends her 15 year old son down there to wash dishes on weekends. He doesn't get paid by the G n' G, but he does get his regular $10 a week allowance from his dad.
Which he was getting before his mom started sending him to the G n' G to work off her debt.
Oh yeah.. and I almost forgot. In the meantime, while Louise is eating at the G n' G at least twice a day, every day, she's going to a weight loss clinic in Big City every Monday and getting hormone shots in her stomach.
I'll just let ya'll think on that a bit.
I'm going to go round up the vacuum cleaner and see if I can suck up some of these dust bunnies.
Ya'll enjoy the rest of your Sunday.
Later Taters!
8 comments:
Y'know, I thought here in Hooterville was a pretty wacky place to live, but Frog Pond Holler has us beat hands down.
I'm cracking up over the Hillbilly Mafia!!!
Someplace lets you run a tab? And has a problem with collecting your money? And then makes you work it off????
How do they MAKE any money??!!!
*snort* The chick that owns the diner has control of the town.
Bettejo.. I figure, a biscuit costs her .50 to make.. she sells it for 2.00 then gets out of paying a dishwasher in exchange for the 2.00.
I think.
Strange way to run a business.
Maybe the owner gets a cut from the local doctor when a cholesterol patient comes in?
Trying not to snort and wake lil pill up at your hillbilly italian mafia paragraph....roflmao
Wow, just can't find the words...bet she's paying plenty for her hormone shots, why I bet she's paying enough to be able to settle her bill at the go and go...perhaps she needs a shot of 'wake up and smell the coffee'
Annette
I wonder if the G&G is reporting the barter income to the IRS? And then there are all of the wage and hour laws. huh, could be fun!
DG
The IRS would have a field day with the G n'G lol.
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