I don’t know how common it is amongst you “normals” out there but I have had and inexplicably high number of jobs for less than two days. I’ve never been fired from a job in that little amount of time. Every time I just walked away and never came back. They were all the kind of job I couldn’t possibly subject myself to for any amount of money. The kind of work no sane person could stand for any more than 16 hours. However because these jobs we’re so hellacious they are amongst my favorites. Allow me to regale you with the story of the worst job I ever had. It’s far and away the best job I’ve ever had.

I was seventeen years old I had just mad the incredibly wise decision to drop out of high school and I needed income. Grass doesn’t pay for itself you know. I was flipping through the paper looking for the perfect job when I saw it. It was an ad from a home audio company. It seemed too good to be true. They were looking for young men with a cursory knowledge of electronics for the installation of home audio equipment. They we’re willing to pay 15 dollars an hour to said individuals. I called Jeff who was also a high school drop out with no future and told him about the ad. We both agreed we were the right men for the job. We drove out to their warehouse for an interview. The office in front was starkly decorated almost as if they had just moved in. As far as job interviews go it was a breeze. We talked with boss for a few minutes.

“You guys know anything about home audio equipment?”

“Sure. We’re musicians.”

“You guys like people?”

I lied,

“Oh yeah.”

“Well you guys get the job. Be here tomorrow at seven thirty.”

Jeff and I drove home and celebrated by getting real damn high on that grass that doesn’t pay for it self. I picked Jeff up at seven the next morning and we drove out to our first day as well paid home audio installation experts. We parked around back and walked into the warehouse. What awaited us was amazing. There were probably about twenty guys running around jacked off on cheap dirty methanphetamines. Metallica’s Ride The Lightning was blasting from a stereo as they loaded speakers into a fleet of vans and minivans. Once the vans were all loaded we were split into teams of two. Each rookie was paired up with an “old pro” that would show us the ropes. My “pro” was Scott. He looked like Chris Penn with Jack Burton’s hair and was wound up like a meth fueled top.

“Alright bud! Let’s do this!”

We hopped in the van and we we’re off… Well kinda.

“Hey bud! I gotta make a stop first! You don’t mind do you!?”

“No I d…”

“Don’t answer that! Its doesn’t really matter if you mind does it!? HA HA HA!”

We stopped at shitty hotel near by and he jumped out of the van and ran inside. I listened to the radio. This was 96’ so that would probably put that god awful Cranberry’s song on while I waited for my “bud” to rail up in his hotel room. About ten minutes later Scott came twitching out of his hotel room rubbing his nose as if he was afraid it would jump off his face.

“Alright Bud! Let’s fucking rock!”

He cranked up the stereo and we pulled out of the parking lot with Linger pouring from the windows of our filthy little minivan.

“So… Where’s our first stop?” I asked assuming we would be making our way to a house where we would install speakers for a nice middle aged couple who would feed us cookies and lemonade.

“Where’s the Mexicans in this town!?”

“…What?”

“The Mexicans! Where are the Mexicans!?”

“…I… Uh… Well there are Hispanic people all over Sacramento.”

“Well where do they like to hang out!?”

“I don’t… I gue…”

“Shit this looks good!”

He wheeled the van into the parking lot of Tower Records and pulled up next to a young guy who was getting into his car.

“Hey bud! Hey bud!”

Then began a pauseless diatribe which almost sounded rehearsed.

“Hey bud! You like stereo equipment? Check it out bud! Look man me and my buddy here work for Apex Audio we we’re doing an install around the corner and our boss accidentally loaded an extra pair of speakers into the van. Where’s that invoice Jaz.”

This is where I learned the extent of my job for the rest of the day. It was my duty to produce the false paper work when my “bud” feigned not knowing where it went.

“Shit here it is! Check this out man! We were supposed to get four speakers but the guys in the warehouse fucked up and loaded up six! Here’s the deal bro these speakers are real fucking high quality! These things sell for fucking 1500 dollars each! Jaz! Where’s that brochure!?”

At this point I would produce a laminated brochure which clearly stated that these speakers we’re “really nice”.

“Check it out bud! Nobody knows we got these extra speakers I could sell em to you for dirt fucking cheap! Shit man I could give em to you for 600 bucks I mean fuck my boss right?! HA HA HA”

That was it. We did this all day. We never even stopped to eat. However “bud” did drink three or four bottles of Pepto Bismol. Some folks actually bought into this painfully transparent scam and threw down upwards of 800 dollars per speaker. How can one resist a deal THAT good!? One poor soul actually bought one speaker for 500 dollars.

“These speakers are so fucking good that one speaker sounds like four! You don’t even really need two of em!”

Some people tried to work their way out of the situation.

“Sorry man I don’t have any cash on me.”

“No prob bud! Where do you bank at!? We’ll follow you!”

At which point I would take the wheel of the van and “bud” would jump into the victim’s car uninvited and we would drive to the bank to get some cash to buy some “great speakers”.

I later found out the reason for “bud’s” affinity for Hispanic folks.

“Mira Mira! Amigo!”

He was a bilingual con man.

We drove around all day forcing “great speakers” on unsuspecting victims for a little extra cash. Cause “Fuck my boss right!?”

We actually sold every single speaker in the van that day. Jeff and his pro apparently didn’t do so good. They had actually driven all the way to San Francisco in an attempt to unload the “extra speakers” but didn’t sell one.

Jeff and I left that afternoon and never came back. When we got home I took a shower to wash off the filth of shame. We sat down and smoked some grass which still wasn’t paying for itself. As we relaxed on the couch a news report came on the TV warning viewers of a group of con men who had been working all over California selling speakers that didn’t even work out of the back of vans.

Every now and then I’ll be walking out of a record store and I’ll get stopped by a couple of guys in a van.

“Hey bud! You like stereo equipment!?”