"Son of a bitch, it's rainin'. I was gonna cut the fuckin' grass when I got home."
Shit, I have to think of something small-talky to say or I'll blow my facade as someone who isn't embarrassed to work here and associate with some of these people. Oh, he's going to keep talking. Good.
"There's two girls at my house all damn day, but they're too busy eatin' each other's pussy to cut the grass."
I have no idea what he's talking about, but I can't let that comment go.
"Well no wonder the grass doesn't get cut. I wouldn't stop eating pussy to do yard work."
"My eighteen-year-old step-daughter and her lesbian girlfriend live with us."
Damn, it's like Cinemax After Dark at his house.
"Damn, it's like Cinemax After Dark at your house."
"I don't want that sort of thing goin' on under my roof, but it's my old lady's kid, and she acts like she don't care."
This conversation couldn't possibly get any weirder.
"I don't think either of 'em has ever had a dick inside 'em. (Yells in the direction of two male employees) Either one of you guys wanna throw some cock at my step-daughter or her girlfriend?"
Okay, I was wrong.
"Yeah, my old lady just lets it happen. If my son turns out gay I'll still love him...he's my son...but I'll be damned if he's going to fuck some guy up the ass in my own house."
For this guy, that's a tolerant position. Still, it's funny how everyone's gay son is the pitcher rather than the catcher. And thanks for clouding my thoughts of hot girl on girl action with visions of hypothetical hairy man-love.
"Are you going to watch the game Sunday night?"
I'm determined to change the subject.
"Her girlfriend's got real lopsided titties."
Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it.
"Did she get them at Marshall's?"
You fucking idiot. You're prolonging the conversation.
"She walks around the house with no bra on. You'd think since she's eighteen she'd have, you know...firm titties. But they hang down to her bellybutton."
(IT WAS AT THIS POINT THAT I DOUSED MYSELF WITH GASOLINE, SET MYSELF ON FIRE, AND JUMPED FROM THE SECOND FLOOR OVERLOOK TO MY DEATH)