blakjeezis
01-10-2006, 07:13 PM
<p>Some background: My day job, when not being Messiah, is to fix
scales, yes the things you weigh shit on. As such, I deal with all
manner of different businesses: jewelers, brokerage houses, garbage
dumps, military bases, chem labs, drug dealers, all types of shit. I
also have some customers that deal with very specific foodstuffs. The
story begins ...<br />
</p><p>The place I was at today, and this is one of several places of
this type, traffics in chickens and other fowl, goats and lambs. That
is, butchering them. They have the animals on site, live. People come
in, buy one (priced by weight on one of my scales), my customer kills
it and butchers it and then the people take whatever parts they want
home, I guess. Usually, and this tips off what the rest of this tale is
about, I'm not there for that part. As you can imagine the daily demand
for goat or lamb meat is fairly low, and these butchers are all over
the place so the business is spread pretty thin - maybe 7 or 8 animals
a day at most, I would say. Usually, I can get in, fix my shit up and
bizoogie with little muss.</p><p> <br />
One such customer needed a pretty extensive repair today, an emergency
situation, since today, apparently, is some kind of serious Moslem
holiday. So I get get there and instead of maybe a dozen goats and
lambs just chilling out there's like 200 in the pen and about 100 crazy
black Muslims there, all clamoring for their beast of choice. And I
mean no disparagement here, but manners have gone out of the window at
this point. I'm not saying that black Muslims are always like this, but
these guys today had absolutely no concept of decorum. They're pushing
in and out of the pen, grabbing animals at will, no regard for the
owner of the business or his system, walking in and out of his offices,
like all over the joint. </p><p>And
here I come, with my toolbox. I
have to wade through the human tide and then through the animals into
the little hallway in back and to the scale. Now, basically, business
should be shut down for me to do my job. Needless to say, the mob
wasn't going to let that happen. So while I'm trying to do my thing, I
have animals running all over the place, which by the way fucking
stink. I'm not sure if you've ever been in a barnyard or a cowshed, but
that's what it smelled like. And they're not quiet, oh no. It gets much
better. Because not 5 feet behind me, they're essentially getting their
heads cut off.</p><p>God knows I'm no PETA nut, or even any of your
more moderate animal rights types, but these poor beasts are just being
held down and getting Columbian neckties right there on the floor. Then
they just twitch awhile then get hung up until they're empty. And,
while there is some kind of cleric there to do the killing, I guess
this doesn't make a difference but it seems a touch out of a whack to
me, the customer (the one buying the animal, not my customer) has the
option of slaughtering the goat or lamb himself. Which, of course,
they're all more than eager to do, probably some religious significance
to it. So there's a constant stream of amateur butchers wielding giant,
bloody knives going one way, and a torrent, and I do mean a TORRENT, of
thick, steaming, foamy, Hawaiian Punch looking blood, flowing the other
way. I'm talking half an inch to an inch deep, washing over my boots.</p><p>So
basically, and to make a long story even longer, I'm in a Black Muslim
riot, some of whom are essentially wielding machetes and demanding to
know when the scale will be working again in their crazy accents (And I
don't think it's really all that unreasonable for a very, very, VERY
white blakjeezis to be at least a little uncomfortable in that
situation), the foulest stench of animal piss, shit, blood, and death
filling my nostrils, the frantic, petrified bleating of goats and
lambs, bestial death screams (yes, Clarice), the near frenzy of
bloodlust, gallons of blood flowing around and over my feet, and I have
to repeatedly stand up and put back down a 4' by 4', and let's say
scales, yes the things you weigh shit on. As such, I deal with all
manner of different businesses: jewelers, brokerage houses, garbage
dumps, military bases, chem labs, drug dealers, all types of shit. I
also have some customers that deal with very specific foodstuffs. The
story begins ...<br />
</p><p>The place I was at today, and this is one of several places of
this type, traffics in chickens and other fowl, goats and lambs. That
is, butchering them. They have the animals on site, live. People come
in, buy one (priced by weight on one of my scales), my customer kills
it and butchers it and then the people take whatever parts they want
home, I guess. Usually, and this tips off what the rest of this tale is
about, I'm not there for that part. As you can imagine the daily demand
for goat or lamb meat is fairly low, and these butchers are all over
the place so the business is spread pretty thin - maybe 7 or 8 animals
a day at most, I would say. Usually, I can get in, fix my shit up and
bizoogie with little muss.</p><p> <br />
One such customer needed a pretty extensive repair today, an emergency
situation, since today, apparently, is some kind of serious Moslem
holiday. So I get get there and instead of maybe a dozen goats and
lambs just chilling out there's like 200 in the pen and about 100 crazy
black Muslims there, all clamoring for their beast of choice. And I
mean no disparagement here, but manners have gone out of the window at
this point. I'm not saying that black Muslims are always like this, but
these guys today had absolutely no concept of decorum. They're pushing
in and out of the pen, grabbing animals at will, no regard for the
owner of the business or his system, walking in and out of his offices,
like all over the joint. </p><p>And
here I come, with my toolbox. I
have to wade through the human tide and then through the animals into
the little hallway in back and to the scale. Now, basically, business
should be shut down for me to do my job. Needless to say, the mob
wasn't going to let that happen. So while I'm trying to do my thing, I
have animals running all over the place, which by the way fucking
stink. I'm not sure if you've ever been in a barnyard or a cowshed, but
that's what it smelled like. And they're not quiet, oh no. It gets much
better. Because not 5 feet behind me, they're essentially getting their
heads cut off.</p><p>God knows I'm no PETA nut, or even any of your
more moderate animal rights types, but these poor beasts are just being
held down and getting Columbian neckties right there on the floor. Then
they just twitch awhile then get hung up until they're empty. And,
while there is some kind of cleric there to do the killing, I guess
this doesn't make a difference but it seems a touch out of a whack to
me, the customer (the one buying the animal, not my customer) has the
option of slaughtering the goat or lamb himself. Which, of course,
they're all more than eager to do, probably some religious significance
to it. So there's a constant stream of amateur butchers wielding giant,
bloody knives going one way, and a torrent, and I do mean a TORRENT, of
thick, steaming, foamy, Hawaiian Punch looking blood, flowing the other
way. I'm talking half an inch to an inch deep, washing over my boots.</p><p>So
basically, and to make a long story even longer, I'm in a Black Muslim
riot, some of whom are essentially wielding machetes and demanding to
know when the scale will be working again in their crazy accents (And I
don't think it's really all that unreasonable for a very, very, VERY
white blakjeezis to be at least a little uncomfortable in that
situation), the foulest stench of animal piss, shit, blood, and death
filling my nostrils, the frantic, petrified bleating of goats and
lambs, bestial death screams (yes, Clarice), the near frenzy of
bloodlust, gallons of blood flowing around and over my feet, and I have
to repeatedly stand up and put back down a 4' by 4', and let's say