I used to work at a distribution center for Lechters. It was a horrible job that required emptying trucks full of bake ware, cooking supplies, & knick knacks that collect dust. The best part of working for Lechters was that they constantly hired temp workers, which meant a steady stream of underpaid coworkers that didn’t give a shit about anything.
One temp worker I met was some guy that looked like a vampire, he told me that he played guitar & once played in Christian Death, but not on any of their good albums. He went on to explain that he lived in LA, but was stuck in Las Vegas due to a recent drug charge, but this story isn’t about him or the shitty Christian Death album he played on.
One particular morning my boss introduced me to a temp worker & informed me that I would be responsible for him. My new coworker looked like your stereotypical 70’s Hollywood version of a Mexican. He looked like Cheech Marin & had the exact same accent. He would constantly ask me, “Do you cruise Balboa Park?”
I told him that when I was younger I went there, he laughed & said, “I figured as much”.
I liked working with the guy, he was a hard worker, & for the most part he was a cool dude. He would tell me about being in prison & about the seasonal work he did installing above ground pools. The only weird thing about the guy was that he would always call me Chappy.
One day while we were unloading a truck full of boxes marked Rubbermaid he said to me, “hay, Chappy can I borrow your box cutter?”
I handed him my box cutter & asked, “Why do you always call me Chappy?”
He let off a laugh & explained, “Chappy was a guy I was in prison with & you look just like him, we called him Chappy because we used to put Chapstick on his ass & butt fuck him”.
I began to laugh & said, “Rad!”
He then told me, “I’m serious, when you are in prison you are either the boyfriend or girlfriend!”