Dogs Don't Roll Over
Written by: Alex Sandell
Even Bulls Pee, Sometimes
I do my best to keep my hands steady as I sell a few more rolls of change, trying not to think about the dead dog's frightening outburst. My fingernails are packed with chunks of canine skin and dog hair, and even though no one else seems able to see it, it's making me sick.
I look around, trying to locate Richard, so I can tell him that I have to use the bathroom. At "Broken Arrow," employees aren't entrusted to their own bladders. We need to have a floor supervisor confirm that we do indeed have to go to the toilet. There's been many times where I've held my urine to the point of leakage, before finding a supervisor.
If you get caught leaving the floor for any reason, including the lavatories, you are automatically deducted half of a point. Since I have only one and a half points left, and the worlds most evil supervisor, I figure leaving the floor, without permission, wouldnt be the smartest choice.
The floor seems barren of employees. It isn't until five minutes into my search that I meet up with Carrie. "Have you seen Rich around? I really have to go to the bathroom." As I watch Carrie searching the floor, I realize that I really do have to urinate. Carrie finishes her ocular search and tells me that she hasn't seen Richard since she arrived. I nearly ask her if shes ever thought about applying for a job as Harrison Fords stunt double, but figure that would only cause hurt feelings. "Thanks," is all I say.
I begin unconsciously picking my nose, due to nerves, not necessity. Carrie watches as I rapidly remove finger from nostril and begin blowing out puffs of air, trying to get rid of the smelly flesh and canine hairs I unintentionally put inside of my nose. I can't find a valid way to explain myself, and start pretending that I'm only making a joke. "I'm a big bull," I start saying in a gruff, bullish voice, while kicking my foot back. "I'm a big bull, blowing air from my nose. Roooaaaaaar!"
Carrie stands with her mouth gaping wide. I realize that this isn't the sanest thing to be doing in front of the new girl. I laugh at my "joke," trying to get a sympathy chuckle from her. She cant even force a smile. I nearly gag over the tickling feeling Im getting from the hairs shoved up my nostril. It takes all the willpower that I can muster to resist blowing the grotesque flesh out, into the air. The Dalmatian realizes what happened and wheezes out a hideous laugh.
Carrie turns away from me and begins walking toward a change light. I can't take lugging around this Dalmatian anymore, and decide to take my chances on leaving the floor, without Richard's permission. "Carrie," I yell, a bit too loudly, "if you see Richard, tell him I had to go to the bathroom. Tell him that I just couldn't wait." Carrie turns around nervously, obviously concerned over my awkward behavior. "I'll tell him," she replies. "Oh yeah, could you keep an eye on my area when I'm gone?" My voice cracks while asking the question. Carrie's face crunches up before forming a constipated smile. "Sure," she says in the cheeriest tone she can muster. "Thanks," I tell her, "sorry about the bull thing, sometimes I get carried away." Carrie gestures to me that it was okay.
I shake my head over what an idiot I must have looked like in front of Carrie. I go back to the bank to unload my apron and then, after making sure everything is locked properly, head downstairs to the bathroom. Halfway down the steps, I meet up with Richard . . . he doesnt look as though he's going to be very understanding.
Go to: Chapter 18
©1997 Alex Sandell but, if you're a book publisher and, you wanna get this puppy out, please get in touch with me, hand me a nice, big contract and, of course, a 12 pack of Grape Soda and maybe we can do lunch.
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