Apologies to the Moody Blues.
But that's what I was today. I got splattered. I was even wearing a spiffy shirt. It has a collar and everything. Buttons even. I dress up a little bit, and I get paint all over me. What's up with that?
The worst part is that it happened right before closing. We were slow all day, but 20 minutes until close, guess what? An order for 20 gallons of paint, all of it being an off-white exterior satin. I only had 3 five-gallon buckets, so I had to make the last one from 5 one-gallon buckets.
After they came out of the mixers, we put a little dab of paint on the label.
The first one: Out of the mixer, dab it, pound the lid closed, place can on the counter.
The second one: Out of the mixer, dab it, pound the lid closed, *squirt!* paint got in the lip of the can, jumping onto me. Luckily, my stylin' red vest took most of it. Clean up a bit, place can on the counter.
The third one: Out of mixer, dab it, pound lid *splort!* More paint in can's lip, jumping on me again, this time getting my shirt and neck. "Dammit" I say.
The fourth one: Mixer, dab it, pound lit, *Splort!* More paint on my shirt. Somehow on my shoes too. "WTF?" I think.
The last one: Mix, dab, pound, *SPLORT!* "Fuuuuck". Look down. Paint on the bottom of my shirt, on my pants, and more on the shoes. "Fuck fuck fuck" Clean up, place cans on the counter.
A ZM (the cool one) walked by just as I was placing the last can of paint on the counter. He looks at me, smiles, continues walking. Stops. Looks back at me.
"Knightmare, what happened?" He asks.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"You're covered in paint!" Thank you, Captain Obvious.
"I am? Where?" As I look down at myself with a confused face.
"You don't see it?" He asks.
"Where? What? WHERE?"
He points to my chest. "There. And some there. Is that paint on the floor? What the Hell happened?"
"Oh... that. Nothing. If you think this is bad, you should see the customer that was standing behind me."
" WHAT?"
"Some guy was standing over there *points*. He got it worse than me. He's in the bathroom right now, cleaning up. So don't close the store yet." I reply, with a straight face.
ZM almost falls for it.
Ah well. At least I got a laugh out of it. He even let me go home early! But only 5 minutes early.
But that's what I was today. I got splattered. I was even wearing a spiffy shirt. It has a collar and everything. Buttons even. I dress up a little bit, and I get paint all over me. What's up with that?
The worst part is that it happened right before closing. We were slow all day, but 20 minutes until close, guess what? An order for 20 gallons of paint, all of it being an off-white exterior satin. I only had 3 five-gallon buckets, so I had to make the last one from 5 one-gallon buckets.
After they came out of the mixers, we put a little dab of paint on the label.
The first one: Out of the mixer, dab it, pound the lid closed, place can on the counter.
The second one: Out of the mixer, dab it, pound the lid closed, *squirt!* paint got in the lip of the can, jumping onto me. Luckily, my stylin' red vest took most of it. Clean up a bit, place can on the counter.
The third one: Out of mixer, dab it, pound lid *splort!* More paint in can's lip, jumping on me again, this time getting my shirt and neck. "Dammit" I say.
The fourth one: Mixer, dab it, pound lit, *Splort!* More paint on my shirt. Somehow on my shoes too. "WTF?" I think.
The last one: Mix, dab, pound, *SPLORT!* "Fuuuuck". Look down. Paint on the bottom of my shirt, on my pants, and more on the shoes. "Fuck fuck fuck" Clean up, place cans on the counter.
A ZM (the cool one) walked by just as I was placing the last can of paint on the counter. He looks at me, smiles, continues walking. Stops. Looks back at me.
"Knightmare, what happened?" He asks.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"You're covered in paint!" Thank you, Captain Obvious.
"I am? Where?" As I look down at myself with a confused face.
"You don't see it?" He asks.
"Where? What? WHERE?"
He points to my chest. "There. And some there. Is that paint on the floor? What the Hell happened?"
"Oh... that. Nothing. If you think this is bad, you should see the customer that was standing behind me."
" WHAT?"
"Some guy was standing over there *points*. He got it worse than me. He's in the bathroom right now, cleaning up. So don't close the store yet." I reply, with a straight face.
ZM almost falls for it.
Ah well. At least I got a laugh out of it. He even let me go home early! But only 5 minutes early.
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