True Story #473

Posted: October 29, 2017 in Livin' in the USA
Tags: , , ,

I was sitting around with one of my neighbors tonight, killing the remains of the Bud Light (the official beer of Tucson — official motto: “Bud Light, because why not?”) from his previous night’s party and amusing each other with stories about idiotic things former co-workers had done.

About three beers in, I told him a tale about working at a trailer (“caravan” for you furriners) factory in Idaho in the 1970s where I was installing plumbing in the optimistically titled “mobile homes,” when I looked up one afternoon, saw a numbnuts who was doing carpentry sitting on top of one of the coaches with a circular saw in hand, preparing to cut a 2X4 he was, yes, holding across his legs. There’s no need to mention what happened next.

I hadn’t described a thing about the guy — height, weight, age, race: nothing — when my neighbor asked, “Was he a redneck?”

I was a bit taken aback, and said, “Yes! How did you kn–?” when I caught myself and realized that the question answered itself.

(To get a taste of how awful that job was, check out the tunes, in part inspired by that job, “Pinche Blues” and “Postal.” Both were inspired by true-life work experiences.)


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