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Fucked Up College Kids File 015

eZine's profile picture
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Fucked Up College Kids
 · 26 Apr 2019

  

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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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Fiction - Take 1
----------------

For starters, a fictional story. Read it, then any comments at the
end of it. No doubt I will bitch up a storm because there are TOO many of
these ignorant bastards in the world.

It was only a ten minute drive to work. The only thing that made
it that long was other people on the road. People that shouldn't be on the
road in the first place. Yuppies on their car phones, moms with screaming
kids, older people intent upon 'safety'. All of these people not paying
attention to what is going on, causing all sorts of wonderful problems.
Changing lanes without signaling, veering over and cutting others off.
He hoped it wouldn't be like Tuesday, where he almost got run off the road,
and prayed it wouldn't be like the Friday before that, where the guy pulled
out in front of him while he was doing 40. Both times, he was able to get out
of the way and avoid an accident. He didn't care much about his safety or
anything. He just needed his car in one piece so he could get to work, and
back. Like everyone else in the world, he was forced to be money's slave.
Pulling in the parking place he looked at his clock, almost fifteen
minutes early today, about the usual. The teenager quickly rolled up the
window of his car, locked the door, and jogged inside. An hour later he would
be bombarded with the stupidity of humans as they bought their lunch. One
hour of prep work before that though, no problem. Little stuff around the
resteraunt to make things go as smooth as possible. He changed the chalkboard
sign so it listed the daily specials, the soup of the day, and the two new
items on the menu. Hung it back on the wall right behind his cash register.
In front of his register was a printed copy of the menu listing all the
ingredients of each meal, the calorie count, and how much fat was in it.
He worked at a restaraunt that catered to a 'healthy minded appetite'.
Few more chores out of the way, he counted his register. One hundred
and fifty dollars. That was always good to start and could cover anything he
needed. Looking at the clock, the time approached 11:00 am, opening time.
With a final swig of his diet coke, he walked back out front. Standing at his
register he was in a good enough mood, ready to take on the lunch rush. It
was always busy, about 2 hours of time, and hundreds of customers each day
within that time. Between the nature of the store, and being next to the
hospital, it was guaranteed customers. Glancing up, he sees his first
customer walk through. *Sigh*.
With a smile on his face he began the busiest part of his 6 hour
shift. As usual, three registers, 300 people it seemed, but all the people
on the registers knew what they were doing. They each knew the menu, the
prices, and the ingredients, and what they didn't know was on paper nearby.
The first hundred people, all daily customers, make the job enjoyable almost,
starting brief, but friendly conversation, helping them with what they needed
and moving on to the next customer. A little after 12 things start going down
hill as usual. Fewer customers, first time customers, and other small things
that raidly grew on him.
A group of three walk in the door. Obviously their first or second
time in. Walking in, looking around and smiling, looking to see if they seat
themselves or walk up to the huge counter with three people standing behind
cash registers. Realization hits, and they move closer. Three yuppies, all
in early thirties, two with mobil phones, and all of them with this look of
superiority. First one steps up further and the guy behind the register
offers the man a menu with a list of items, and ingredients, then reminds him
that he is welcome to ask any questions. Yuppie1 looks down at the menu for
two seconds and back up to the menu with only the prices behind the counter.
"Hi. I have been here before, but my friends haven't so I will order
for them." <note: done with a 'I know everything' attitude.>
"Ok sir. What can I get for you?"
"I will take the daily special, my friend will take the combo special
and the other will have the 'Very Vegetarian'.."
<employee wants to scream>
<'Oh yeah, you have been here. You just managed to order the three
most vague orders you can get. Read the fucking menu.'>
"Ok. First, there are three daily specials, <points to large board
behind him>, which would you like?"
"Oh. Uhhm...<looking at menu in hand>...I will take the Italian."
<'Didn't I just point to this big board in front of you stating
all the specials...is Italian on there? I don't think so. Get
a clue dipshit.'>
"Sir? Today we don't have the italian, we have these three. <lists
them>." *sigh*
"Oh. I will take the Santa Fe. And I want a potato with that."
<'Duh? Doesn't the big board say that comes with it?>
"Sir. It comes with a potato. Next, the combo special. That comes
with a half sandwich, your choice of soup, salad, or potatoe and then
your choice of chips, pasta, or fruit."
<Yuppie2 steps up> "Lesse. Which sandwhich do you recomend?"
"I like the roast beef sandwich. It is really good."
"Hmm. I will take the chicken sandwich."
<Employee starts getting pissed>
<'Don't take my suggestion, then ask for one of the two sandwiches
we don't do on the combo special. Ignore all the others that we DO
do.'>
"Sir. We can't do the chicken sandwich or the one below it on a combo
special. The menu here shows which ones you can choose from."
"Oh. I will take the Turkey sandwich." <steps back>
<employees eyes roll>
<'Like the menu says asshole, you have a few choices to make. You want
just the sandwich? Bet that is a real combination eh?'>
"And would you like soup, potatoe, or salad?"
<Yuppie2 steps back up>
"I get my choice?"
<'Are we deaf AND dumb? Get a fucking clue please'>
"Yes sir."
"I will take the potato."
<Employee quickly rattles off next sentence before yuppie can back up>
"And would you like chips, pasta, or fruit?"
<Yuppie asks what each are>
"Chips are tortilla chips, pasta is a oil based pasta salad, and
the fruit of the day is watermelon."
<'Wow! A full master's degree and you can't figure that out?!'>
"Hmm....<waste time>...I will have chips."
<silent cheer from employee>
"Ok. And on the third, the 'Very Vegetarian', would you like the
VV sandwich, salad, or taco?"
"You mean it comes in all three?"
<'No dumbass, I am making this up. Read the fucking menu.'>
"I think I will take the sandwich."
<'*sigh* And you can't read either eh?'>
"Would you like chips, pasta, or fruit? That choice is with ALL
sandwiches.'"
"Uhh. I think I will take pasta."
<Yuppie1's phone rings>
<*curse* from the employee. With a order half rung up I can't help
anyone else>

Minutes pass while the fucking yuppie talks about raquetball later
with his bed buddies.

"Ok sir. What would you like to drink?"
<Yuppie1 smiles and steps up again. He is the one who has been here>
"Give us 3 cold drinks." <turns to yuppie friends> "They only know
the difference between hot and cold drinks here."
<employee is quite pissed because he hates when people mock him.>
"Cold drinks sir? Coke? Tea? Lemonade? Shake? Slush? We have a lot
of cold drinks."
<employee glares at him by now>
"Oh. Three cokes please."
<'bout damn time'>
"Your total will be 18.42"
<Yuppie1 breaks out a 100 dollar bill.>
<'You couldn' fucking hit 110 at the ATM? Got to have those nice
big bills to impress your loser friends?'>
<Yuppie hands it to me with a look on his face like 'you'll never
have one of these'>

------<enter fiction>------

"Excuse me you fucking yuppies. Please get the hell out of this store
and get the hell out of my face. You are such a dumb ass yuppie
who doesn't know shit about the real world. <sneer>"
"<shock> Let me see your manager!"
<Employee walks off, gets manager, runs out to car, comes back in.>
<manager>"You said that to him?!?"
"Yup. Sure did. Doesn't he look like a fucking loser?"
<manager>"Your fired! I am extremely sorry about all this."
"Ok. See ya!"
<employee sticks around for a few seconds, waits til yuppies are
seated, enjoying their meal, walks up to them.>
"Hi! Boy I sure love when you ignorant bastards come through my line
acting like you know everything about the restaraunt. Why the hell
do you think I am here? Because I know this shit better than you.
All three of you are fucking perversions of nature, and shouldn't
be allowed to roam around. You sit back with your master's degrees
which you got by cheating people, bribing others, and bullshitting
your way through, and you expect to come in and treat ME like the
imcompetant? That isn't how it works."
<meanwhile, great shock comes over all their faces>
"I think I will do society a favor today."
<employee pulls gun and shoots each yuppie once in the arm, once in
the leg, and once in the stomach. yes, he was carrying a 9mm with
a big clip.>
"There. Go rot in a hospital and do something good for society.
Spend your money somewhere else, and stay the fuck out of public."
<employee walks out quite content>

The enD.

Anyway, you get the point. Fucking lameness abounds and seemingly I
get stuck with it all. I get so sick and tired of dealing with other people's
shit, and cleaning up after them. People are so sloppy, so ignorant, so
conceited, and overall, so unaware, it is pathetic.
Fix it. If not someone else. You. It all starts with YOU making sure
you don't fit in the above category. If you don't, then that alone makes you
a plus to society, regardless of anything else.
Believe that. Not the bullshit you are fed by your parents, or other
adults. And make sure you don't believe the hype. Don't be a yuppie. Don't be
this. Don't be that. Be yourself. That is the one thing I learned from a good
friend and to date, that has held up. And something tells me it will continue
to do so.

-Dam

ps- Thanx goes out to S.L. aka Bulldog. He got through to me.

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= Questions, comments, bitches, ideas, etc : z3mar@ttacs.ttu.edu : FUCK =
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= Official F.U.C.K. Distribution sites and information =
= Board Number Other =
= ----- ------ ----- =
= Immortal Hate 806.745.8879 World HQ =
= Ionic Destruction 215.722.0570 Eastern HQ =
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= Accounts NOT guaranteed on any F.U.C.K. distribution site. If you are =
= interested in writing for, or in becoming a distribution site for =
= F.U.C.K. call Immortal Hate, and apply for an account, or mail Dam =
= at z3mar@ttacs.ttu.edu or on Immortal Hate. Knowledge is power... =
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