“Another
Days Journey”
By
J.B. Galui
Copyright
2013
Published
by: J.B. Galui
Opening:
Well who the hell would have guessed what the out come of
telling Jimmy would have lead too. Fucking me that’s who. I knew damn well it
was going to be a shit fest, but like the dumb ass I am I told him anyway.
Whatever the outcome I knew the fucker needed to be told. Who knows how long
those two pricks were fucking around on him as it was.
It tore the bastard up. I could see that but in the back of
my mind, in hindsight, I think he was actually relieved. He never said anything
to that effect to me. In fact for almost a week he didn’t speak to me. I told
the people we did work for that a family member had died and we needed to take
some time. I wasn’t actually lying, a family member had died in a fucked up
way. Though it wasn’t a physical death there was a loss, a huge one. For Jimmy
it was a loss of years of his life. He put up with a lot of shit from Carlie.
Years he’ll never get back, mental shit he may never recover from. But most of
all his kid who probably doesn’t understand what the fuck has happened to his
life. Be it a bad or good one. Me personally, I can’t see any good that the two
of them had towards the end. The constant fighting had my insides churning;
imagine what it was like for a four year old. Fuck that had to be messed up. I
know what it was like with my parents and all the fucking yelling and fighting
shit and I was a bit older. That shit still rumbles around in my head. At least
Jimmy has visiting rights with his kid. Maybe he can help the little guy make
some sense of it all or better yet make a new and better bond with him. Time
will tell.
Chapter 1:
It’s been a month or so. Jimmy’s finally coming around with
me to a point. I don’t know if he forgave me for telling him. Resents me for
opening my fucking mouth. I don’t know, he’s never really brought it up and I
sure as hell ain’t going to ask. Maybe in some far respect he had already known
about Carlie’s cheating or at least sensed what was going on. Maybe he didn’t
have the balls to bring it out on his own. Maybe I did him a favor. Again maybe
I didn’t. Maybe I’ll never fucking know. But I think if she would have just
said we’re over and done it wouldn’t of been so bad on him. But her fucking
around with some suit with a fancy assed car, I think that was the thing that
busted his balls and ego. Some well off fucker took what was his, even if she
was a pain in his ass. That bastard suit fucker took what little Jimmy had away
from him and that was the part that ate him up inside. I can really see his
point, really. The fucking shit we do and put up with and not a lot to show for
it. We sure as hell don’t have a goddamn fancy assed car and suit. The pricks.
But even though he came back around, I think it was mostly
because he needed the money and maybe a little because he needed an escape and
get out. It’s not near the same as it used to be between us. I mean we’re back
at doing the same old shit for the same old people. He does his thing as he
always did but the morning phone calls have almost stopped. He just shows up
and we do our thing. I’ve invited him over a few times but he always makes some
excuse not too. He used to come around at least three to five times a week
before. We’d have a few drinks. You could see then he got more relaxed, that is
until his cell rang and he always knew who that was on the other end. That’s
when Jimmy’s expression changed. Like he was heading for death row. That’s no
way to live. But those days of him stopping around are gone now. He just does
his shit and leaves. Where does he go? Fuck if I know, hell maybe he’s working
shit out in his own mind somewhere off by himself or just goes back to his
apartment and drinks himself to unconsciousness. Who the fuck knows what goes on in anyone
else’s head. I just give him his space. The one fucking thing I did notice was
the flask in his boot has gotten a hell of a lot bigger. Poor bastard, wish
he’d open up. But then again I’m not a fucking shrink so what the hell advice
could I give him. Best thing for me to do is shut my fucking mouth and go thru
the motions. He’ll talk when and if he wants too. And if not……fuck I don’t
know. The only thing that I do know is a big part of Jimmy is gone. That or
it’s buried so fucking deep inside him he’ll never let it come out for air.
I know this may sound fucking sick but I wonder how the
bitch Carlie is doing. You know is she still fucking around with the suit man?
Is she hurting as bad as Jimmy is? Did she ever really care about him? I know
it may be a morbid sense of wonder. I hate the fucking bitch for what she did
to him but I’d hate her even more to know she’s having a hell of a good time
while Jimmy is, well, Jimmy’s fucked up.
It pisses me off to know I’m the one who got them together.
Fuck, it was some fucking birthday party a long time ago for a guy we knew. He
was a shyster bastard, but we knew him for what he was. It’s not like we were
going to lend him cash or invest in one of his bullshit schemes, and he had a
lot of them. The last I heard he was doing some serious time for scamming old
people. Fucking asshole. Anyway we’re at this party and Jimmy spots Carlie
standing at the bar. I had met her a few times before. Believe me she sure as
hell wasn’t the bitch I grew to hate back then, she was actually ok. But Jimmy
didn’t have the balls to go up and introduce himself to her so like a dumb fuck
I agree to introduce them. Always getting myself involved in shit I don’t need
to be getting involved in. They must have hit it off pretty well. Jimmy told me
the next day they wound up fucking in his car. Which in itself was fucked up,
his car was a piece of shit, inside and out. From there it was pregnancy at
first fuck. Nine months later they were married and had little Jimmy. I guess
that’s when all the fucking reality squeezed in on them. From then on she
became a bitch and he became her whipping boy with a wallet and dick. Jimmy
that poor fucking bastard was never lucky. If shit was luck he’d be the most
constipated prick in the world. That night I should have just got him drunk,
threw him in his back seat, took his pants off and told him he got laid. The
fucker would have been better off.
Chapter 2:
On my way to another wonderful day of fun filled shit, I
remembered a job I had worked at awhile back, before Jimmy & me got this
assholes with a mop thing going. It was at some rich assed church and I mean
fucking rich. I used to call it ‘God’s Tax Exempt Enterprise’. Hell they
brought in over two and a half million dollars a year with donations,
offerings, and all the other shit they could bullshit their followers out of.
Now that’s a lot of fucking money. I worked there a pretty long time doing
maintenance and grounds keeping and any other shit they wanted. Rich fuckers
have the nicest way of letting you know that they have money and you, well
you’re just a moneyless prick.
At first it was good for what it was. I’d get there early,
have a cup of coffee and start my duties. It was really ok, at first. I worked
my ass off, you know, believing the harder you worked the further ahead you’d
get. But as time went by I realized that was all a bunch of bullshit. For my
hard work all I was given was more fucking work and made to do the shit work
the other ones didn’t want to do. The problem was my Supervisor was a black
woman. A middle aged, I am superior and can fuck with you, you white fuck. Now
let me elaborate. I have no problem with a black person or a black woman. But
this one was a bitch with legs. When I first got there another guy, he was
Hungarian or some shit, warned me to watch my back, he said the Supervisor was
racist. Now I didn’t think much of it or maybe I was to naive to believe it.
That shit couldn’t go on, not at a church for god’s sake. Besides, fuck I got
along with everyone didn’t matter the race.
There were seven workers at this church, four were black and
me and the other two were white. Well one by one the Supervisor found some
bullshit reason to fire the other white workers and hired a black worker in his
place. I was the last white fucker left. That’s when I got a cold dose of
reality. I could finally see the shit that was going on. All the work she was
piling on me while the others kind of cruised thru their day.
There was this one time one of the black guys, his name was
Jim, like my buddy Jimmy, that’s how I can still remember the prick. He was the
Supervisor’s golden boy. Anything he wanted he got and what little he did was
enough. He was supposed to take the trash from one bin by the office to another
by the end of the road every day before it piled up. Well a couple of hot,
muggy days went by and prick boy left the trash pile up. It started smelling
like fucking rotten shit, had maggots crawling all over it, and the bees and
flies were everywhere. The next thing you know I get a call on my
walkie-talkie, yeah, that’s how big this fucking place was, it covered forty
acres. So I get the call to clean up and remove all the nasty assed trash my
wonderful golden boy co-worker neglected. The trash that wasn’t my job to take
care of was now thrown in my dumb fucking lap. When I made it a point about
this bullshit that was put on me, I was called to the office of the big shit in
charge. The head prick of it all. The bitch Supervisor had already informed the
head prick that I wasn’t supposedly doing my job and was a troublemaker. A job
that wasn’t my responsibility I’m now catching shit for because golden boy
didn’t want bothered and he had the black bitch Supervisor in his corner. The
head prick didn’t want to hear about it or from me. What could I do? She
already had me pegged as a goddamn problem to the fucking head prick. Didn’t
matter what I said, my sentence was already decided. So like the dumb white
used fucker I had become, I had to clean up the fucking nasty mess. And it
wasn’t the last time for me to get fucked over. It became a constant thing. I
heard it was a running joke around the other black workers that the Supervisor
liked to ‘fuck with the white boy’. And she sure as hell got away with it. I
was used more than rubbers in a whore house.
After awhile I just gave up. I knew I couldn’t win. Fuck I
even went to the Labor Relations office to see what I could do about all this
shit that was being done to me. And what they told me in so many words was that
the Labor Laws were put in place for the minorities not a white guy. Isn’t that
in itself a racist fucked up rule? When
I went to the head prick to try and explain what was really going on, I was
told, and this is the kicker, ‘It’s easier to fire a white maintenance worker
than it is to fire a black female Supervisor’. Nice to hear from the fucking
bastards running the so called ‘House of God’. And it didn’t end there either,
the fucking shit just kept rolling.
When all the other workers were getting a fifty to seventy
five cents an hour raise, I was getting five cents. Why not, I was a fucking
trouble making white jackoff who didn’t deserve shit. This too was overlooked
by the head prick. He sure as fuck didn’t care about it or want involved in it,
as long as all the shit was getting done what the fuck did he care. In his eyes
I was the trouble making bastard. It was so fucking nice to work in the house
of all these Godly hypocrites. Nice for the others, sure as hell wasn’t for me.
My last days came when it was raining outside. That was my
only saving grace when I could go outside to do the grounds work. I was by
myself and far away from that black bitch of a Supervisor. But since it was
raining I had to be inside. That was like a slow torturous death to me, being
inside with the zoo crew and their bitch leader. She called me on my walkie
talkie. She loved to do that even when she knew I was outside running the mower
and couldn’t hear her. She’d call and call, made it sound like I was ignoring
her to the head prick in the front office, he had a walkie too so he could hear
all the shit that went on. But she calls and tells me that I needed to replace
some ceiling tiles in the school part of the building. Again not my area but I
had to replace them. And yes they had their own school. Pre-care to sixth
grade, I told you the fucking place was huge.
So when I get back to the work room the only ladder there is
an old wooded, broken down piece of shit. Wobbly as a drunken sailor. Seems
like the other good ladders were being used, for what is still a mystery to me
as the other fuckers didn’t do much. So I take the piece of shit ladder, get
the supplies together I’d need and me and another worker, who didn’t really do
that much but follow his female co-worker around like a dog in heat, went to
change the tiles. The other guy didn’t know or want to know his ass from a hole
in the ground about any real work and why should he. He was the smart fucker.
But as I was reaching to remove the first tile, the piece of shit ladder broke
and I went down hard. Eight feet onto some computers. Broke the fuck out of
them and myself. Blacked out for a few. Fucked up my right shoulder pretty
good. They took me to the hospital then had me go to the churches workers comp
doctor. That was a fucking joke. He told me, and I quote “to suck it up and go
back to work.” Nice isn’t it, basically fuck you, I don’t care about your
injury, the church is paying me to tell you I don’t care about your injury, so
fuck off and deal with it as best you can. Again the ‘House of God’ is so
fucking compassionate.
I knew my days were numbered there. The Supervisor fuck
bitch took me off my grounds work saying she was ‘concerned’ I may hurt myself
riding my mower. That with my injury I may fall off, for reasons unknown or
cared, while riding. Is that some lame fucking excuse, and the motherfucking
head prick believed her. What an asshole. So she gave me a list of duties
inside that I had to do that were even more bullshit. Like getting on my hands
and knees scrubbing the marks off the carpets. Cleaning windows. Moving tables.
Everything that I couldn’t do because of my fucked up shoulder injury. She sure
as hell knew what she was doing and had the head prick behind her. So when I
couldn’t do the fucking jobs she laid on me she had the church, and I say
church as a euphemism, fire me for not doing my job.
Well the black racist bitch finally got her way. She now has
her full staff of only black workers. Her personal little nazi crew that she
can control. She finally got rid of the white trouble maker with no questions
asked. Nice and neat. She did have to fire one black guy just to cover her ass
so it didn’t look to be a racist thing, like it really fucking mattered anyway.
At least I got the chance before I left to tell her to her black bitch face
what I thought of her racist ass and the shit she was getting away with. Didn’t
do any good but it sure as hell made me feel better. Knowing that black fuck
she’s still riding high in her office working every angle she can on the bad
white man syndrome to keep her minions in their jobs whether they do them or
not. Fucking organized religion, I can see why I am hesitant to ever step foot
in a church again. If God is suppose to be just, then why does he let pricks
like her continue to get away with these injustices? I often wonder sometimes,
and I believe it’s true, that she had the whole thing set up. That she made
sure the shit ladder was the only one back there for me to use. Because after
the accident she had them throw that fucking wobbly piece of shit in the trash
and it was hauled off the next day. House of God my ass, house of money hungry
narrow minded cock suckers.
