completely understand, but as it is the hallmark of the ignorant
person to pretend to grasp what is incomprehensible, Bob figured he
might as well give it a shot.
“Hey, If you were a god, what would you wear?” Bob asked Wade
during their brunch break.
“Michael Jordan is a god, and he wears Armani suits,” Wade
replied.
“Right. Some guy in charge of a program about gods thinks they
should wear matching sweatsuits.”
“Gods don’t sweat,” Wade noted sagely.
“Ha! I knew I didn’t hire you for your looks,” joked Bob, who, as
a result of actively using his brain over the last weeks, was actually
developing a sense of humor.
CHAPTER 21
Doug Veljohwzzeik rarely stayed up late on his night off, usually
taking advantage of the opportunity to catch up on some much-
needed rest. A 24-hour convenience-store clerk’s job was never done,
after all, and if he didn’t take his breaks where he could get them, the
job would soon break him. At least that’s what they told him in the
training seminar, along with the helpful maxim,
when the going gets
tough, drink more coffee.
Tonight, however, he was going to “let his hairs fall down.” He
had utilized his 50% paid-employee discount and brought home a
bag of Fritos corn chips, a liter of Diet Dr. Pepper, and had just seated
himself in front of the television. This, of course, was the night that
they announced the weekly lottery results, and he had a hunch that
he might have a humdinger.
“Mama, I have a hunch I have humdinger,” he had announced to
his elderly mother the night of the hold-up, after he burst into the
small apartment they both shared.
“So call doctor,” she replied.
“No, I mean I have discovering gold mine this time for surely!”
“This is what you say about Megamart too. Where is gold? Where
is mine? Where is son? I have no son.”
“This time, I show you, mama. This is land for free and home of
save! We will be rich and happy, mama. Just like on Waltons! We will
have big house and many quality oxen!”
H O L Y S H I T !
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