…of being a convenience store clerk.
Once a month, the corporate office sends a guy down to the store for maintenance. He vacuums out the cooler vents and changes the water filter for the coffee maker, changes lightbulbs, fixes damage done by crazy customers. That kind of thing. He’s your stereotypical maintenance man: Mid-50s, a little chubby, semi-grumpy, has a severe ass crack problem when he bends over. When I’m forced to work on Maintenance Day, I always give him a wide berth.
Yesterday was Special Summer Maintenance Day, when, in addition to the typical fix ups, extra jobs like freshening up the paint on the outside of the store and giving the air conditioners a tune up are done. And because there was so much work to do, corporate sent two maintenance guys down for the day. One of them was Ass Crack Guy.
The other one SO wasn’t.
He was tall and broad-shouldered with shaggy, sandy-blonde hair and very straight teeth. He appeared to be in his mid-30s. He wore tight jeans. Very tight. I was good and didn’t sneak a peek at his ass.
The two of them went to work vacuuming vents and changing water filters and fixing loose cabinet handles, then they started on the Summer Maintenance Stuff. Ass Crack Guy went outside to paint the building and Tight Jeans Guy went into the big freezer to do whatever it is maintenance guys do to big freezers. He came out a few minutes later and walked right up to me, holding a pint of Ben & Jerrys, smiling his straight teeth smile. Then he asked:
“Do you like ice cream?”
That’s like asking me if I like muscular maintenance guys with nice asses (okay, I DID peek). The answer, of course was, “Damn right!” And, forgetting my many years of pop culture training – I skipped right over the Southern Belle/Hollywood Starlet response ( “Why Fiddle-Dee-Dee! I couldn’t touch a mouthful!”), the Supermodel response (accept the ice cream, eat it daintily, then spend a pleasant half-hour in the bathroom barfing it up), and the Romantic Comedy Heroine response ( “Oh, I shouldn’t.” Toss hair flirtateously. “But I will!”) – I said exactly what I was thinking:
He handed it over. It was the John Lennon-inspired flavor, Imagine Whirled Peace. ( “Caramel & Sweet Cream Ice Creams Swirled with Fudge Peace Signs & Toffee Cookie Pieces.”) Then he handed me a plastic spoon and said, “I gotta know if the freezer is working alright. Can you let me know if it’s freezer burned?”
I took a dainty bite. Then another. Finally a third. “Nope. No freezer burn at all.”
I wanted to say, “No problem!” but I couldn’t. I was too busy chewing on a Fudge Peace Sign. So he turned around and went to work on the air conditioner. The job required him to walk up and down a ladder. Frequently. In his tight jeans. I watched him the whole time. While eating my free ice cream. It was like someone had transported me into a Van Halen video for chicks. It was my best day of work ever.
It. Was awesome.