BY REDCHAIR; Sports Editor
I had this job once working maintenance for a gas station/ truck stop. It was a good summer job for me. I was fresh off a breakup and didn’t want to talk to customers and have to grit my teeth and put on a friendly persona. I also liked that working maintenance I could wear jeans and sneakers as long as I wore a polo shirt of the companies. There was no rule on shaving so I could have a beard as long as I wanted. A part of me being hired was that leaving at the end of summer worked best for both of us. After managing a small staff of workers for the last two years I could say this job felt beneath me and I really didn’t care much for the job.
I had a few tasks that had to be done daily that I mastered quickly and often spent my time standing by the back of the cash registers people watching customers or talking with the cashiers. When I happened to get stuck with boring or serious staff members I would hide out in the laundry room and read magazines. After a while I snuck in books because I had plenty of time to kill in the evenings and on slow day. I guess you could say I was just that good at cleaning and maintaining that I wasn’t challenged enough. But I have been known to over exaggerate. Overtime I happen to come across many different characters. Some were good and a lot were bad. All of them were truckers or appeared to be future truckers. One I came a crossed we will call “CQ” for Cigarette Queen. She was, with the hype of our favorite Showtime show, shameless.
I had started my shift with the usual stupid questions and requests. Why someone needs four towels is still beyond me. This day happened to be a Sunday and much like a college dorm this is laundry day. I did my usual tasks starting a shift cleaning the five showers, empty all the trash bags, restock the freezer drinks, and clean and restock both bathrooms. This would usually take me around two hours and I’d have four more to waste on a Sunday. So I did what I normally did. I started some laundry and started reading. I thought about mixing it up and taking a nap but all the sudden I smelled smoke. I quickly hopped off my ledge I used as a seat and started to explore. I walked down the hall to the public laundry room and found the cause.
Here sat CQ. The most disgusting female trucker I have ever seen. She was sitting in there smoking a cigarette. Even with bewilderment running through my mind I managed to state “I’m sorry but there’s no smoking in here.” As if the obvious fire hazard with washers and dryers and the half-filled garbage of lint wasn’t any indication. This lady, if you can call her that, had long gray hair past her shoulders. I couldn’t tell if she was a really dirty white person or if she was actually just a slightly dirty Mexican. She had stained yellowish brown teeth from smoking and probably dipping. She wore a white sleeveless shirt with slight sweat stains. It wasn’t long enough for her and her gut hung out like she was waiting for baby kangaroos to hop out. She also had on light blue jeans that went to the bottom of her calves. After I made my statement CQ dropped her cigarette and stomped it on the tile floor. I stood there shocked for about five seconds waiting for an action before I picked the cigarette she left on the floor and went and tossed it outside with the rest.
I was really hoping this would be the last time I would see her but about ten minutes went by and my laundry had completed its cycle. I headed back to my laundry room which passes the public laundry room and CQ had unzipped her jeans and was showing off even more flab. I threw up in my mouth a little bit. I’m not even kidding with you. I decided I was going to hide in my laundry room as long as I could until I knew she was gone or I was called to pick up some spill.
About thirty minutes went by and I was called over the speaker for something. I was happy CQ wasn’t in the laundry room and decided she had left. I figured this was a great time to make my outside rounds to show I was working a little. When I finished I came back in through the back doorways where I found CQ sitting on the steps in her underwear smoking a cigarette. As I realized it was her I tried my best to avoid any eye contact but regardless she gave me a flirty “hi” with her stained teeth smile and unflattering eye lashes blinking at me. I replied with a dry “hey.” I quickly headed back to my laundry lair and thought seriously about taking her cigarettes away and shoving a mirror in her face. I glanced at my dying cell phone and realized I only had thirty minutes left on my shift which I left for bathrooms and re stocking. As I was cleaning a mirror I took a look at myself. Even with an unkempt beard and my hands starting to turn white with the built in disinfectant gloves and grease stains on my shirt I thought…. I look pretty damn good right now. This uncaring lazy thing I have going is starting to look like a manly mans rugged outdoor look they try to portray in GQ.