XXX. Another Short Chapter in Italics
Friday, June 12th, 2009Old Joe hunches over his desk, squinting at inventory forms, looking older than his 62 years. A young man with a mustache and some calligraphy tatooed above his collarbone stands idly by, waiting for Joe to sign.
“I got a good one for you,” says Old Joe. “There’s this bean, right? And he’s looking for some place to have a drink-”
“A bean?” the man interrupts.
“Yeah, bean. Like a little bean. And, anyway, so he sees this bar up ahead, and he thinks, ‘What the heck?’ so he decides to go on in…”
Old Joe’s joke is cut short when one of the candy company’s managers walks through leading a group of Chinese investors.
“Let me introduce you guys to Old Joe,” the manager says. “He’s our warehouse foreman. He’s kind of a fixture around here.”
“He is a… fixture?” one of the group asks, puzzled, but then a look of recognition spreads across his face. “Ah, yes! Fixture!”
He turns to his colleagues and translates. Everyone laughs uproariously.
“Fixture! Yes, very good.”
The manager smiles awkwardly, unsure of what’s going on but happy to entertain.
“Heh. Right. Well, let me show you gentlemen how we sort pallets for distribution.”
The group moves on. Joe watches them go with a disdainful snort.
“I could swear some of those folks were aiming machine guns at me not too long ago.”