Toothless Joe

So I’m at McDonalds with Becca. She is finishing up a Happy Meal – a treat for going 24 hours without yelling at anyone. Yah, baby steps…


I’m finishing my coffee as Becca asks to go sit and watch the end of Kung Fu Panda on the 847 inch DVD screen that now replaces the Play Places. I guess they figure if you are eating 35 grams of fat in one meal, you are probably not that interested in exercise anyway. :)

Anyway, I send her over to watch the end of the video and I happily anticipate about 10 minutes of peace and relaxation. And my coffee is still hot. Perfect….

Not.

Out of the corner of my eye I see “Toothless Joe” approaching. Toothless Joe does not work where I fry donuts, but he frequents there and other local places I do – so I see more of him than necessary to make my life complete. He also has teeth, and is not named Joe. But that’s just what I’ll call him here…

He has an ear to ear grin…this can’t be good….I inwardly roll my eyes, or maybe I did it outwardly. Wouldn’t make any difference to Toothless Joe.

He sits down.

I give a closed mouth insincere smile, like you see on airline passenger’s faces when they realize yes you are sitting next to them and yes those kids are with you.

I try one last ditch effort to avoid this conversation and I start to busily gather up my stuff and look frantically at my watch - but he somehow misses my entire catalog of social cues….

“Say” he begins, “Can I ask yous (that’s you with an “s”) something?”

“Sure” I reply, with the absolute least amount of enthusiasm I can project.

Pause.

“Yous ever done time?”

I stare motionless at him, without blinking or moving, then I choke out, “Excuse me?”

Not missing a beat, he answers, “You know – hard time, jail time…the slammer???”

I stare open mouthed at him for a minute to let the full magnitude of what he’s asking sink in.

No Joe, I have never done time. I have no criminal record”.

“Uh huh” he replies not hearing me or believing me. “I was just thinking…a smart lady like you (he looks up and grins)…frying all day…well yous (again with an “s”) must have done something really bad to only be able to get this job!!!! Yuck yuck yuck yuck…he howls with laughter at his highly sophisticated humor.

My shoulders slump, I sigh and answer… “No Joe, I didn’t do anything “bad”. I just needed a job and this one was close and got me home before my kids got off the bus. So it worked for me.”

Again not hearing a word I say he goes on, “Well I didn’t figure yous no murderer. I thought maybe yous like… (he searches for the words but clearly has an image in his mind), yous like them Moms that put their kids in front of the TV, then sell drugs RIGHT out the front door – just like Avon!!!”

As he nearly splits a gut laughing at this idea – he reaches over the table to cheerfully punch me in the arm – I suspect to make sure I’m enjoying this exchange as much as him.

Now he turns completely serious and finishes with, “I didn’t figure yous for no hooker”.

Here I don’t know what’s more offensive. The idea that it does seem perfectly reasonable that I might line my kids up in front of the TV and then sell drugs right out the front door, “like Avon”.

OR

That I somehow don’t make the cut for hooker! I’m thinking, “What? You don’t think I could get clients?”

Then the reality of MY line of reasoning sinks in and I snap, “No Joe, I don’t sell drugs – like Avon, I’m not a hooker or a murderer. I have never done jail time and I have no criminal record”!

To which Joe playfully punches my shoulder AGAIN and says with a loud guffaw – “YET!”

Ba ha ha ha ha ha…he nearly falls out of his stool laughing.

Next time, we are going through the drive through.







Although I did actually have one tiny brush with the law this year…  :) See next post!