Dark Cherry flat
They've been here all day with me, spending most of their time on coffee breaks, cleaning up the paint they keep spilling, and going to the restroom. I've become convinced that shoe-painters are the laziest assed people in the world. They can hardly even seem to get started --and then the work-day's over! I'm finding out the hard way that trying to get a shoe-painter to paint a shoe is much harder work than the work of painting a shoe itself.
They were scheduled to come in and paint last Friday. That was a mistake. I should have known better than to hire a painter to come in on a weekend. Finally, this morning, thy drag their sorry butts in. Bloodshot eyes and rumpled dirty clothing --
"Is this Headwrapping School?" asks the one with the beer-belly and no front teeth.
"Hello!?! Can't you read the two foot high sign over the door?" I say.
"And, oh by the way --why are you five days late?"
"Our mothers died," says the smelly one with the dirty face and stubble beard.
"All three of your mothers died?!" I ask.
"Um, yeah man, isn't that a far out synchronicity?" says the red-head with the duct-taped glasses and his fly open.
So that's the story up to now folks. Hope you enjoyed seeing some finished shoes. It's been a hard freaking day. I'm outa here. See you when I see you... Sheeeesh! --now I'm starting to talk like them.
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