Score

Years ago, I was tending a little comic shop, cheerful as can be ,when in walks an underbathed hippie kid. Patchouli and armpits.
He walks up to the counter.
"Hey man, what's up?"
Do I know this guy? I wonder if he's going to try to sell me drugs? I hope so-wonder if he'll take comics in trade?
"Uh, hey."

"Can I have my job back?"

Huh? There's only three jobs in the whole store-the absentee owner, the 'manager' (me) ,and the kid who works weekends. Who is this guy?

"Your job?"

"Yeah, I had it before you did."

I remember asking the owner what happened to the first manager.
" Simon?I had to fire him. He was robbing me blind. I let him stay in my apartment and my TV and VCR got stolen. I had to change the locks on the store because of him."
This stinky kid is that guy?

"Simon?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Mario says he fired you for stealing. "

Hippie dishes out what would have been a pretty good death-gaze if it had come from unglazed eyes. Instead, he just looks stoned and confused.

"Nah, man. That wasn't me. He's lying. Besides, I was here first."

"Here first? This isn't the line for Star Wars!
You got fired, I got hired. You know they're aren't any jobs here."

"Can I borrow five bucks from the store?"

"Only if you promise to buy soap."

"Huh? Oh. Well, fuck you."

Exit hippie kid.


I hadn't thought about this for years, in fact I probably never would have thought of it at all, if not for seeing 'Simon's' name on the management list at the station.
The same managers who just had a closed-door meeting.
The same managers who decided that if I wanted a DJ spot, it would have to be 3 am-6am, Thursdays.
The same managers who decided that they had too many techs in-house, so I would be placed on 'on-call'. Which means 'don't call'.

Karma? Bullshit. I was in the right.
Maybe I should have given him that five bucks, you say.
No way. If you give a bum money from a store register he'll camp on your porch. I know this. It happened. I had just started at the shop and didn't know any better-
I gave this older guy a couple bucks to pick-up the trash and sweep the sidewalk. Once. Twice.
Third time, he brought a buddy. Fourth time, he brought the whole Under-the Bridge crowd.
A gaggle of winos does not encourage shoppers to visit.
They wouldn't leave.
(My 'pal' left, but his buddies didn't)
"It's public property."
I called campus police.
"There's a bunch of winos loitering on my sidewalk."
"Sorry. Your store is off-campus. It's public property anyway."
So I called City police.
"Sorry. Your store is on-campus. It's public property anyway."

I went next door and bought a six-pack of cheap beer. I gave one to each derelict on my sidewalk. Suddenly, they all liked me.

I went inside and called campus police.
"There's a bunch of students drinking beer in front of my store."

The campus cops were there in two minutes, chasing away the homeless guys.

Yeah, that was kinda rotten, but it was worth it. Can we call it even now?