Billus Crumplus: Hurry The Fuck Uppicus
by James MacLaren
What the hell is it that causes people to throw blockades in your path and then bitch and moan as you attempt to get around them?
Business looking guy. Mighty important, no doubt. Got the button down shirt all tucked in, new shoes, shiny car, the whole wrap.
With one exception.
His money.
He apparently just shoves it down inside his pocket, all wadded into a little ball of green paper.
So of course, when he comes in after gassing up the damn car, he’s in some kind of hurry. Must have an important meeting to go to or something. Can’t wait another second.
And then hand you this incredible wad of banknotes, just glommed together every whichaway. Hell, you can’t even tell if the shit’s ones, tens, or what.
And there’s no fucking way the shit is going into the cash drawer that way. I’m gonna need to hand it right back to somebody as change here in a couple of seconds, and it’s gotta be at least halfway organized-looking in there, or else I’ll fuck up and give somebody twenty dollars change for that pack of smokes they bought with a five.
Unh uh. Ain’t gonna happen. Gonna take this crumpled pile of crap and organize the motherfucker BEFORE it ever makes it to the cash drawer.
Which means, before I can give Billus HIS change, I’ve gotta uncrumple each and every bill, eyeball it to make sure what the denomination is, and then lay it nice and flat where it belongs in the cash drawer.
This drives Billus up a tree.
Gust of expelled breath. Fingers drumming furiously on the counter. A look of pure contempt on his middle-aged face. Can’t wait another SECOND. Gotta go RIGHT NOW.
No, Billus, you’re not going anyfuckingwhere till I create a little order from this pile of chaos you were so kind to hand me.
I can tell by the look of you, that you’re an educated man. Perhaps even educated beyond the level of your intelligence. Dunno. But it’s for sure as hell that you’ve been around long enough to know how this game is played. It ain’t like you just dropped in from Neptune or anything. So just sit right there pal, while I do the job which you yourself have chosen to make a little more difficult and a little more time consuming.
SNATCH the change out of my hand as if I was on fire! STOMP out of the store disgusted! SQUEAL your wheels out of the parking lot as you hit the road! And, oh yeah, maybe FOLD the goddamned money nice and neat next time before you put it in your pocket.
Fuck off, asshole.
