Work That Muscle!

I realized something today... don't ever slack off from gym for an extended period of time! It is pure terror when you return.

Because I had been working a lot, and I was pre-occupied mentally by thoughts of The One leaving for Asia, myself about to lose my job and adding to that the simple fact that I came down with a cold. Albeit a mild case of the sniffles, but enough to make me feel that going to the gym would be too strenuous for me - and subsequently not exactly be a healthy option. I am a strong believer that if you carry a virus in your system, working out is not going to be beneficial. Thus - I haven't been going there for two weeks. Oh, don't get me wrong - I wasn't sick for two weeks... laziness played a part in this.

I went today. I had hoped The One would go there with me, but she couldn't find the time. I agreed to meet my cousin Andy there instead - because I felt I really needed to get back on track with my work-out program.

Now, I did feel a little tired all day today because I haven't slept really well for quite some time. I have felt like that before, and the gym usually makes you feel so much better once you get started.

Not today!

Today was so hard and I didn't feel like I had an ounce of strength in my entire body. The weights I usually do seemed to weigh about twice as much as they used to. Not only was it much heavier... I didn't have the mental strength either - you know the part when your brain takes over and keeps yelling at you "you can do it! ONE MORE!!!". Instead - that same reptilian brain of mine would shout "Fuck that's heavy! NO WAY you can do this!", and I would give up.

I ended up using the same weights (I'm too much of a man to take any off) - but I had to succumb to the pressure and do less repetitions. Focused mainly on the pecs and the biceps today... those are the muscles that also strengthen a man's ego.

I was completely worn out after today. I took a rinse-off in the shower and climbed to the top bench in the sauna and sat down. I spoke to my cousin about the possibility of me moving away in the future. We talked about The One and her leaving, and we talked about a get together of cousins I'd been planning for later this month... which now looks like it won't happen.

We also talked about the fact that I had no strength at all left in my body after my two week leave of absence at the gym. Yeah, I carried a virus and all... but seriously - today was like it was the first time in my life I went to a gym.

Now, later. I'm thinking about how important it is to keep working on those muscles, and how quickly they start to decay if not being trained on a regular basis. And, I'm also thinking the brain is a muscle.

Here's where it gets interesting!

It's really very similar to working out at a gym - and equally important that you work out that muscle inside your cranium: The Brain.

If ever you decide to do some research on creative writing you will find that the one advice that you will continue to come across time and time again is this:

WRITE. WRITE. WRITE! ... and then WRITE some more!

If you do that... soon enough you will find that writing comes easily. Words start appearing on the page without you feeling like you have to coax them out of the deepest parts of your brain. They just flow out of your fingertips and onto the keyboard as easily as it is to think, fantasize and daydream.

And, does this not apply to all forms of brain functionality?

I'm thinking... my recent situation with The One, my job and everything. If I continue to think about these things and actually work on: A) Getting over The One. B) Accept the fact that she will not be here to smile that wonderful smile at me. C) Really focus on what it is that I want to do with my life, and D) Be happy!

Will my brain not after a while be able to do all these things naturally? Resulting in me feeling good about myself, and not have to force happy thoughts into my brain?

But, I would have to keep doing this on a daily basis. I could start easy... with the "Be Happy" part. Sitting down for fifteen minutes every day - repeating in my head "I am happy, I am happy". I can do them in tens. Ten repeats, then I can relax a little... and let that happy feeling wash over me. Do another ten "I am happy"'s and rest.

Yeah... this last part is stupid. But, think about it seriously. If you focus on making your brain think in a certain pattern, and experience a specific mood... would it no become easier and easier, and you would feel happy and content with your situation without much effort after a while.

I am going back to the gym on a regular basis from now on. No more slacking.

I am also looking to find a good work-out schedule for that twisted brain of mine.

Random Boring Ramblings

Shopping Spree:
Took the opportunity today to go out shopping for some cheap clothes. I'd gotten some money for Christmas that was earmarked for just that. Figured I should enter the crazy world of after-Christmas-sales as I would be able to pick up some quality clothing at a good price.

Now, if only I had a shred of intelligence... then I wouldn't have waited until 4 o'clock to get to the stores. That's when things really start to pick up. Everywhere I went, the places were packed with bargain-hunters who have never heard of the term common decency! Cutting in front of me, yanking the last shirt from the rack, just as I'm reaching for it (I didn't bother causing a scene... don't think it was the right size for me anyway), people breathing down your neck, waiting for you to hang that sweater back so they can push their way past you and get that one - because it must be the most important thing in the world, that they get that particular sweater... right now! Today!

Anyway... I managed to get hold of 3 sweaters and 1 shirt that I liked. All of them were 50% off, so I got them for a very good price. I'd wanted to buy a couple more items (another shirt, possibly a suit, since I'm now too skinny to look good in the one that I have) but the chaos in the stores had become too much for me to handle... I was quickly becoming a very un-safe shopper. At times like this, it is probably a good thing I do not carry a gun.

As you can see, I'm currently in the market for brown... I've got the idea that's a good color for me. Will suit me well for next weeks WWC, as BROWN is one of the words!

6 Days Of Paradise:
At work yesterday I realized a wonderful thing. Usually the schedule that I work by allows me a fabulous 4 days off from work... the way it works is a 4-week plan, so every four weeks I have a four day "mini-vacation". Now... the thing is - we're closed New Year's Day, so I do not have to come in my regularly scheduled Tuesday. And I'm always off the Wednesday after that as well - so this all means that I'm not back at work until Thursday! Six (may I emphasize? SIX!) days of joy and freedom! Break out the booze and the booty - time to CELEBRATE!

The Long Walk:
Yesterday, as the work-day was nearing the end I got a text from... guess who?

*building suspense*

Yes! The One!

She asked me if I was working, and when I was getting off from work. Then she fell silent, as I had answered her questions. So, once I was off work I figured I'd text her again - ask what it was she wanted...

Turns out she had the sudden urge to go for a walk. I guess she was feeling a little guilty about eating all that Christmas food, and wanted to knock some of those calories off of her.

Now, I haven't seen her for about three weeks - so of course I told her "sure - let's go for a walk" - even though I was so tired, all I really wanted to do was lay half-asleep in front of the TV.

We had a pleasant walk. Talked about the situation at work, as well as how she's doing over there in the new store. We talked about how Christmas had been. We talked about a few other things... but, most of all we talked about getting our butts back in the gym. She was very excited about the prospect of getting back to our 3-4 days a week visits there. She talked about setting up goals for us, so that we'd have something to work toward.

"So what goal are you setting up for yourself?", I ask her as the cold wind bites into my skin. I'm keeping warm by looking at her... isn't she the most beautiful thing in the world?

"Beach 2008", she says - no hesitation.

Lets hope that she feels the same way tomorrow, when we decided to start anew.

R.E.H. Notes:
She just texted me the following 'NO GYM TOMORROW. FORGOT I HAVE TO BE AT GRANDMA'S FOR DINNER. LET'S GO SUNDAY'... Well, at least it appears she still wants to do it though...

As I walked her to her door, we looked at the watch and realized we'd been out walking for 2 hours and 15 minutes. Decent work-out...

Gym-Time:
I got a head start today. I had gotten a try-it-once free card to take someone with me to the gym some day, and so I got my cousin to go there with me. He's tagged along a couple of times during the summer, but has since not been working out at all.

It's weird how things happen. Just last week... I had no one who wanted to go to the gym with me... now, yesterday The One seems to be very serious about getting back to it, and then - today - my cousin not only uses the free pass - but signs up for a year.

"It's all part of the new me!", he told me.

"New Year's Resolution?", I ask.

"Yup. I'm going to start a healthy lifestyle".

"You know... for a New Years Resolution - that's very original of you". Sarcasm is evident, and my cousin Andy was laughing about it.

Funday Sunday: "Anger At Work"

Yeah...

Couldn't come up with anything better for "Funday Sunday" today. I'm sick with a bad ass cold and I'm frustrated at my situation at work, so for me to have a fun filled Sunday is virtually impossible.

This video that I found on YouTube, however, is funny and quite representative of my mood today.

I love it how in that first clip, when things... go down... that one guy seems almost oblivious to what is going on, and just continues to chat on the phone as if everything was just fine. The second clip... what a gal, huh? And, that final dude - well, that could be me - sad isn't it, but that is how I handle anger situations at times... hehe.

I once thrashed my office chair after having lost eight hours of work on the computer and there was a sudden black out. Both in terms of electricity, and in the rational part of my brain. I have a tendency to forget saving often when I do things. I was so angry I got up from my chair, grabbed a good hold of it, swung it up above my head and proceeded to repeatedly smash it against the floor...

What are the craziest things you have done in a fit of rage?

I took a day off, yesterday, after having completed the NaBloPoMo quest. Not because I was fed up of posting blogs every day, but because I was lyin' flat out in my bed feeling sorry for myself. It's been a long time since I've had a cold or anything knock me out like this... It's at times like these I wish I had a sexy, scantily clad girlfriend here to take care of me.

Slightly better today, but still some ways to go before I'll be back to my old usual self.

Enjoy the video, and hopefully I'll be back tomorrow with a more cheerful post.

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UPDATE:

Shit, guys! I just rewatched that video, and I noticed something I didn't think of at first, which made that last guy that much funnier. I realized that there was actually some thought to what he was doing... see - he's come to the conclusion that the printer does not work - and therefor he grabs the monitor, places it facedown in the copier and (my guess) wants to make a copy of the screen, instead of getting a printout.... you think I'm right?

WWC / Warranty Slip

Weekly Words Challenge time again!

The charming and excellent photographer, Tink of Pickled Beef is the one responsible for the fun and excitement that the WWC brings every Tuesday of every week. She chooses the words and we all interpret these words and come up with some amazing photos to share with the community. It's fun! Try it if you haven't already!

The words for this week are ASSORTMENT and PURPLE.

The Madman's contribution to the WWC below:

An ASSORTMENT of yummy candies

**********

An ASSORTMENT of pens and knives I use at work

**********

An ASSORTMENT of birthday flowers, with a shade of PURPLE

**********

My PURPLE Mega-Ball Florida lottery T-Shirt

**********

I had one of those... funny (read imbecile)... customers today. I'd sold her a pair of spring mattresses, and as I rang it up in the register I handed over the receipt and the warranty slip.

"Ok, ma'am. There's a 10 year warranty on those mattresses, so you'll want to hold on to this receipt and the warranty there. Keep them in a safe place, if ever you should need them"

"Oh, good", she says. "So the warranty will cover it if my kids were to spill lemonade on them, right?"

Now, I am not even going to bother giving you a sample of the thoughts that went spinning through my head, but there were plenty of them. Let's just say they all summed up to one thing... basically; Yeah, lady. That's what a warranty is for. Spilling stuff on your mattresses... pour some coffee on it too, while you're at it. Incontinence, I hear, is covered by warranty as well... Oh, and drink yourself senseless, puke all over them and we'll replace them... sure! Idiot!

"No it doesn't ma'am. It says on the warranty slip there what is covered and what's not"

Some people... it never ceases to amaze me how stupid they can be.

We'll be back for some more WWC excitement next week and then we'll be having pictures inspired by the words LANDSCAPE and ORANGE to show off!

What should one say?

I was doing the laundry today, again... yeah, I do that once a fortnight - on Mondays. And, something happened today that isn't so easy to talk about... at least, not with the person it concerns. It got me thinking though, as I've encountered this a couple of times in recently...

It is nearing the end of my laundry, everything is washed, and I am mostly just drying clothes and folding them up nicely. Since we have a basement laundry room where I live, I hear someone slowly shuffling their feet along the corridor leading up to where I am. Had I not known better, I would probably have been scared shitless, thinking an actual zombie was headed my way - that is what the footsteps sounded like.

Of course, I knew exactly who those feet belonged to - long before I had to see who it was. See... I have this neighbor - he's an 80+ year old dude, and he walks in slow motion. Frankly - the guy is rather fit for his age, but he does have this kind of bent over walk, in which his feet never seem to actually become airborne - they are just slowly dragged along the floor as he makes his way forward. I imagine it must've taken him about 15 minutes to get from his apartment down to the laundry room.

I step outside, and there he is, finally having stopped by the board. We use sort of a button to book time in the laundry room, and he's browsing the board looking for available slots.

"Hey, there Old Buddy". I actually used his real name - but "Old Buddy" is what I'll call him here.

"Hello...", he continues to look at the board. "I haven't been down here for a very long time"

"No?", I say.

"I just wash my underwear in the bathroom sink".

This is when I start to really notice that the guy smells... actually he reeks. I don't know - did he lose control of his bladder... like three days ago... and hadn't noticed yet?

Now, I don't want to bad mouth the old guy or anything. He's a very nice guy, and I've spoken to him several times running into him in the stairway. This is a new smell that I haven't noticed about him before. And... it is unbearable. You know... the kind of smell that reaches into your nose and turn your nosehairs into little prickly needles.

Now, I can't just tell the old fella he reeks, can I? So, what can you do? Well... I did what I think most people would do... shut up about it, and try to stay as far away from him as possible.

He finally decides on a day to do his laundry and parks his laundry button in the correct slot - after a little guidance by me.

And... then he walks into the laundry room itself. Pulls out a chair, and sits down.

"I'll sit down here with you for a while. You don't mind, do you?"

Aaaw, Jesus Christ. Yes I mind! You stink!

"No, that's ok", I say instead.

"I don't have anybody to talk to very often, you know".

I feel genuinely sorry for the guy. He starts telling me of how three wives of his passed away. First one had a heart attack, second one had cancer, third one died of "some other disease"... don't know what that may be. I've heard the story a few times before. It seems to be his ice-breaker. He does recognize me as his neighbor, but he never remembers my name and obviously he doesn't remember having told this story a few times either. He does remember at all times that I sell furniture for a living. And that is what he will talk about after having told me of his deceased wives. And, of all the other women he has courted on the dance floor.

After about 20 minutes or so, the old man finally decides it is time to head back upstairs to his apartment... and it is yet another 15 minutes before that stench is gone. Can you believe that? How that horrid smell would just linger for fifteen minutes?

Now... like I've hinted at. I can understand an old man like him not smelling all peachy at all times. It is a sad thing actually, and I wouldn't want to tell him anything about it. But, the whole experience today got me thinking about a conversation we had at work last week.

We have this temporary worker. She comes in every Tuesday and does some little things, like vacuuming and restocking the shelves. This is a rather young girl, I think about 23 or there about. She walks around in a cloud of sweaty stink at all times.

This is last Tuesday:

"Is she coming in today?", one of my co-workers asks our boss.

"Who?"

"The Tuesday girl", he explains.

"Yes, she is"

He moves uncomfortably in his chair. He's got something on his mind, and he wishes to get it off his chest.

"Uhm... I... I don't know... Should I tell her?"

"What?", I break in on the conversation.

"Didn't you notice? She stinks of sweat"

"Yeah, I did notice"

"I mean. I can't just walk up to her and tell her that she stinks, right?"

"No, that wouldn't be very nice"

"No... I know. But, someone should really say something. Maybe she doesn't know, you know?"

...and the conversation continued like that for another few sentences. In the end, we all agreed to keep our mouths shut about it.

But... really. What is the proper thing to do in these situations? Because, yes, they should really know so they can do something about it, right?

And... it worries me, you know. Because people don't say these things, that makes me worried. What if I smell? Would anyone have the guts to tell me that I stink if I did (do?)... because, I'd sure like to know so I could get the hell home and take a long shower, scrub myself clean and bathe myself in deodorant. Use a gallon of mouthwash or whatever is needed to come back smelling fresh like the summer breeze.

And... speaking of which. Tomorrow is Tuesday - so Tuesday Girl is going to be there again tomorrow... I will have to take a whiff to see if she decided to shower before work this week.

Man of habit...

At lunch-break today I decided to swing by McDonald's and grab a quick burger, as I had not prepared a lunch for myself today.

I stop at the drive-thru. One car ahead of me, and I religiously read the menu board, thinking about all the alternatives available to me. There are some meals I have never tasted, and I'm thinking it would be nice to try one of them.

The car in front of me drives up to the next window, and I follow suit - stopping at the speaker-box, where a friendly female voice greets me.

"May I take your order?"

I begin to order... no processing of thought going on in my head.

"Give me a quarter-pounder with cheese, medium fries, medium coke and an extra cheeseburger. No pickles on the burgers".

Didn't try anything new this time either. I always order the same thing when I go to a McDonald's, and when thinking about it... that is who I am. I am a man of habit.

I often go to a pizza place close by my work during lunch-hour, and I no longer need to tell the waiters what I want. They just put their thumbs up, and nod in agreement - I guess just to make sure that I have no intention of shocking them today by ordering a different kind of pizza. I once did, and I could hear the entire kitchen talking about it. I wouldn't even decide to go someplace else for my pizza... not for lunch. I can go to any pizza place in town after work... but if it is lunch-time - this is the place I'll go to when pizza is what I crave.

When I buy beer, I always buy Heineken. Nothing else will do - and if a bar I go to doesn't serve it, I feel cheated - my smile dissipates and my head falls down.

"Oh... ok... what've you got?... I guess I'll have one of whatever you got"

Days off from work I always begin the day sitting in front of the computer, drinking a full pot of coffee - non-decaf... before I have any sort of breakfast. That takes 1-2 hours. On days that I do work, I have 2 slices of toast and some orange juice before I get in my car. At work, if no coffee is already made, I will always make a fresh pot of coffee first thing I do. I will then proceed to drink as much coffee as time will allow. I guess I have a serious addiction to coffee. If I don't get my coffee in the morning, I am liable to be very moody and agitated that day.

At the gym, I always use the same locker for my clothes. Locker #31. Once since I started someone had already snatched it and put a lock on it... I had to use #30, and I didn't feel good about it at all. It ruined my work-out that day. Seems to be a good locker though, since it's only been taken once.

Before I go to bed at night, I always check that my front door is locked - and it has to be the very last thing I do before I go into the bedroom and get undressed. If for some reason, after I have checked the door, I need to go to the kitchen or anywhere else, I simply have to return to the door to check that it is locked before I go to bed, even when I am absolutely sure it is locked (that is not really the issue, anyway). Sometimes, I'm not positively sure I checked it when I'm all tucked in... at those times, I have to get up and make sure or I will not be able to sleep all night.

So tell me... do I have issues? Should I see a therapist?

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Oh, didn't have the frame of mind to take a picture of my burger or anything, as I actually would like to use my own pictures for my blogs. So I searched for something to use that would work with the story I was about to write, and came upon that hot asian chick eating what appears to be a McChicken (something I actually order sometimes, when I'm in the mood for something else than a hamburger).

Another picture showed up in my google search, and I just had to share it with you. It made me laugh and a little frightened at the same time... at least now we know what Ronald McDonald's children would look like.

Laundry Day

Can't we all just agree to wear dirty underwear and call it the norm?

This isn't some hippie request, indicating that we should all embrace our filth and wear it with pride. No... it's nothing like that. It's not even an environmentalists wet dream to minimize water usage or save our planet from washing detergent pollution. Nor is it some perverted fantasy about the natural odor produced from our nether regions.

Plain and simple, it is a lazy man's request to eliminate the need to ever again have to wander down to the laundry room and waste a few hours of his life doing something he absolutely loathes.

Yep... that lazy man is me. I mean seriously... is there anything in this world that could possibly be more boring than doing one's laundry?

If I ever become a millionaire, the first thing I'd do is hire someone to deal with my dirty clothes... that way I could just scatter them around as I please, and never have to worry about it. In the mornings, after I take my shower, there would always be fresh smelling, clean clothes to put on - and I wouldn't have had to have done anything at all to make it so.

But, I'm no millionaire... far from it. There has to be a way... I've got it!

Disposable clothes!

Yes! Use'Em & Toss'Em would be the brand name. Wear'Em Once... Never Wash.

We actually sell a disposable raincoat at work these days. I never realized the sheer brilliance of that idea until today. This idea will make me rich, filthy rich - so I can hire me that clothes maid... wait... do I need to now?

Besides. Living in an apartment complex where we share a laundry room makes things even worse. Why on earth can't people learn to clean up after themselves? It drives me absolutely crazy. Dog owners are the worst (those that do not know how to tidy up, so just because you own a dog don't jump my bones - ok?). There are times I wonder if they stuck the actual dog inside the washing machine and gave it a spin-bath...

Makes me wish sometimes I had saved up all that hair I cut off of my head. Used to have really long heavy metal hair you know... up until recently. I could bring it to the dog owners apartments and spread it out in their socks and underwear drawers. Maybe, next time I shave my genital area I can save some pubic hairs, put them in an envelope and mail it to them. Install a tiny bomb that triggers when they attempt to open the letter, making it go poof! and spew the pubes into their faces.

Then, there are the ones who always seem to leave clothes behind. A sock, a pair of medieval used panties and various baby clothes. I recall someone saying to me after I commented her use of mismatching socks.

"It's the weirdest thing you know... but every time I do the laundry I end up missing a sock. Can't for the life of me figure out where they go."

Well, moron. They don't just mysteriously vanish, or cease to exist... you just leave them behind in the stupid laundry room! Simple as that!

I should install a washing machine in my apartment. That way I wouldn't have to deal with the other morons... nor would I have to save up two weeks worth of worn clothes and have to spend hours washing them all at once - I could simply chuck the clothes I wore today into the machine at night, and they'd be ready for me in the morning.

But, the only place I could put a washing machine would be in the bathroom. It's not big enough unless I get rid of the bathtub or accept the fact I'd have to put my legs inside of it whenever I need to take a shit.

You see how complicated everything gets? Just because we have to wash our clothes... so I ask of you again; Can't we all just agree to wear our dirty underwear and call it the norm?

The things people say...

I sell furniture for a living. A decent enough way to earn your daily meal, and that roof over your head, I suppose. I hate it though. Especially the way things are being handled right now. People are being laid off as we are cutting down on staff - yet the sales stay the same, doubling the workload for those of us unfortunate enough to remain employed at this place. But, jobs are hard to come by, so I guess I will stick around a while longer.

Today was just another day of work. Short on staff, usual frequency of visiting customers, a truck-load of mattresses arriving (how often do you buy a new bed?) and no place to store these mattresses. Also, it marked the last day I'll be working with a co-worker who's company I enjoy. He'll do his last day tomorrow, which is a day off for me. Two more will do their last days next week - one of whom I'm sure you'll hear a lot of in future blogs... but, I'm not ready for that just yet...

While nothing special really happened at work today - nothing out of the ordinary - there is one thing that I never seem to quite come to terms with. Anyone who has ever had a job in a service minded business is sure to have experienced this. I call it "excess information".

Let me tell you about today... and remind you - today was an ordinary day.

I meet up with a middle aged woman in the mattress pad section, she needs help as she browses blindly among the many different types. Fair enough. That's what I'm here for... that's my job. Finding out what her needs are is the first thing I do, and she tells me the most important thing for her is that she can wash them. I tell her most of them have removable covers and can be washed in any washing machine.

"Oh, good... I have such a gross husband at home", she tells me.

Now, what am I supposed to respond to this? I let it pass, and she realizes what she just told me. But, then proceeds to the part where she feels the need to explain why she just said what she said. This is what follows;

"I shouldn't say that about him... what I mean is he has a rash, and bleeds all over the bed at night. It's disgusting, I have to wash it every day."

Continuing to ignore these comments I quickly proceed to showing her a couple of samples to choose from, and soon enough I am able to send her off with a pair of new mattress pads... not really wanting to think of what the poor things will have to endure in the near future.

Later... a rather over-weight lady (not obese, but definitely not skinny) is looking for a new box mattress for her and (again) the husband.

"What kind of mattress should we get? Both of us are on the heavy side, as you can see...", and she starts posing as if I hadn't already noticed. "And my husband is even bigger than me."

Now, I have nothing against fat people... I was one of them until recently, and there is still some "flab" left around my belly. I am not one to make fun of them either, nor do I have the need to tell others that "Hey... I lost the extra pounds - so can you" - because that is not always as easy as it seems (I'm not even sure how I did it - but, we may look into that in some other blog). So, what do I say to this woman? What does she want to hear?

"Sure, ma'm. We have the 'fatty-bed' section over here, if you'll follow me."? I don't think so.

This particular comment is a common one, so I've got a good grip on handling this situation. I don't tell them they're not fat, because that would be a lie. I simply (as I've found is generally the best thing to do) ignore the fact, and tell them what they should think about when buying a new mattress. I tell them that their weight does not determine the kind of mattress they buy, but the comfort level they feel when trying them out. It's all very individual...

Those are the two that I can recall from today's events. But, over the years I have spent working there, I have heard things that are shocking, amusing and outright scary. I will never forget the much less than attractive couple who picked up a pair of mattresses they had bought. I'm sorry to say, but the wife was about as far from beautiful as they come (though I am happy for her having found true love in life, which is more than I have). She was outrageously skinny, and her eyes seemed to be close to popping out of her sockets, that's how sunken in her face was. He was by definition obese, and lacked any sort of whiteness to what was left of his teeth. I don't think either one of them had been close to a shower the previous month. The two of them start telling me what they are going to do as soon as they come home with their new mattresses.

"It'll be nice to have a new bed tonight when we get busy humping. I'm gonna give it to my wife in every position possible tonight. She really likes it doggy style. It'll be great... isn't she beautiful, my wife?".

Of course, I can't tell him how I feel about his wife. And surely I do not want to picture the two of them having sex. That's when the wife starts telling me how good her husband is in bed. I mean, seriously! It is my job to help them load the damn things onto the trailer, so I can't just run away from it all - but do I want to hear it? Hell, no... I wouldn't want to hear about it even if the chick was hot - though in that situation it would have been a case of jeallousy.

Then, there was the time when someone I (barely) knew came in wanting to return a bed-frame that was broken. I asked what had happened, as I quickly judged it was not faulty production that was the cause. Thinking that because she knew me, she could tell the truth, and this is what had happened;

"Me and my boyfriend were doing some seriously hard fucking last night, and it just broke down on us. Imagine that! In the heat of things we just crashed through to the floor, ha ha". The boyfriend was standing behind her, looking blissful.

"Ok. I can't take this back. Maybe in the future, you two should take it easy with the love-making, huh?". That time there was simply no way to ignore anything. She was actually mad at me for not refunding her loss.

What compels people to tell these kinds of things to a complete stranger? Do they just not know where to draw the line? Or, is it some sort of uncertainty - like a nervous tick that forces them to utter these words, unaware of what they are telling me? The sex-thing especially - I get that selling mattresses a lot, and I am fully aware that they are not only to be used for a good nights' sleep. There will be times the people who buy them are going to make sweet loving in them as well. Maybe that is why they feel a little nervous when buying them - because they are not only evaluating the quality of sleep they'll get in them, but they are also interested in the bounce they will provide for those sexual encounters.

Every now and then, lonely male beings (always male in this case) feel the need to jump up and down on the beds discussing that particular bounce with me.

"Oh, this has a good bounce to it. It'll be great when I bring home some hot babe from the bar at night, eh?", and they smile. One guy even laid himself out flat on his belly and began humping the mattress. He rolled over and said: "Yup... this one will do".

I feel sorry for that guy, because I doubt there is much of that going on in the bed he bought off me.