It never felt so good to get off work this morning. Those two hours seemed like the longest two hours of my life. I continually looked at my watch as the minutes slowly ticked by. When 8:00 a.m. rolled around, I clocked out and bolted out those automatic doors to freedom. The first thing I did was to unloosen and remove that damn choking tie they make us wear. I slung it over my shoulder.
I did get to see Sherman this morning which is always a treat (as I do most days these days). He was sitting in his early 80’s Dodge Diplomat in the fire lane awaiting one of his customers as they shopped in the grocery store where I work. He beckoned for me to come over and sit with him to talk.
“Buy dis brotha a beer,” He said as I sat down which is his usual greeting for such encounters.
“Sherman, I can’t go into work buying beer,” I replied as I chuckled. “They will think I am an alcoholic or something and besides, it’s eight fucking thirty in the morning.”
“Come on,” He said. “A workin’ man can be buyin’ a beer.”
“Not the kind you drink,” I replied. “Ice beer screams, ‘I’m an alcoholic.’”
Sherman just laughed and pulled a half empty bottle of cheap wine out from under the seat of his car. He took a drink and then handed it towards me. I waved it off with my hand.
“You too good to be drinkin’ with ole Sherman?” He asked.
“No, no, not at all,” I replied. “My doctor just told me I shouldn’t drink with the medications I am taking.”
“Damn doctors,” He said. “Dey be ruinin’ a man’s good time.”
“When is your court date?” I asked changing the subject.
Sherman got a DUI several months ago. I think it was his sixth and he still gambles by drinking and driving. From what I have heard, he may be facing a possible year in jail.
“Hell, I don’t be knowin’,” Sherman said. “I be done lost the ticket. I be thinkin’ it be in June.”
“Call down to city hall and find out the date,” I said concerned and flabbergasted that he didn’t know.
“Screw dem bastards,” He said and then took another drink.
About this time, a very pretty and young black woman came sauntering across in front of us with a bag of groceries.
“Daaammmn!” Sherman said pointing. “Dat be one fine piece of black ass.”
I just laughed and bid Sherman good day. He is looking at a year in jail, lost his ticket with the court date, and all he can think of is women and drinking. I was so tired from preparing the produce department for two hours and was ready to get home and get something to eat. I was not in the mood for hanging out down at the grocery store today. I walked on home in the cool morning air soaking in the glorious sunshine.
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