After falling out of bed at 7.30 in the morning RetailBoy began his morning routine, it did not go well. After realising that he put toothpaste on his razor and shaving foam on his toothbrush RetailBoy became very aware that his day would be a long and painful one.
His hangover from the night before could only be described as monstrous and his mood as murderous but RetailBoy was still ready to attack the day with his trademark “can’t be arsed” attitude. After 49 pints of lucozade to wake himself up RetailBoy began his short walk to the dungeon of fuck that he calls a workplace. This walk affords him time to listen to a few tasty jams on the way, trash metal suited his mood so that’s what he listened to. Much like his fumbling attempts at sex, this particular brand of music is fast, loud and aggressive…perfect for a leisurely stroll to work while suffering the affects of an Olympic quality hangover.
Unshaven and half asleep in the corner, RetailBoy looked the picture of professionalism as he began work on his series of meaningless tasks. Most people would be pissed off to even be working on a bank holiday let alone pulling an 11 hour shift by himself but he struggles on through the morning knowing that his future self will take those sweet sweet euros and invest them wisely in tayto and tayto related products. This comforts him no end.
His morning was uneventful as he spent most of it crying in the corner and abusing anybody that had the misfortune of saying hello to him, the norm for RetailBoy. His mood deteriorated further as more people dared to speak to him. Staring at a chair, RetialBoy imagines throwing it through the wall just to cheer himself up but he knew in his weakened heart that such an act would result in a large draft…he was suffering enough the poor lad, the draft would just be cruel.
His attempts at curing his hangover by shouting and crying were proving fruitless so he decided to go on lunch early in the day. He took one look at the food he purchased and got sick a bit in the mouth…there was no point in him even trying to chow down on that roll now his mouth tastes like yesterday.
As RetailBoy walks back into the workplace where dreams go to die he sighs quietly to himself. His day on the beer just gone seems like a million years ago as he puts out his worthless little finger and scans himself back into work. God forbid he lies and steals an extra few minutes on lunch, no. If RetailBoy doesn’t scan in wild tigers will feast on his tasty flesh, tearing it apart like two sticky lollipops.
As the day goes on his hangover subsides but is replaced by a dose of the “tireds”…the poor lad just couldn’t catch a break. Due to his forced decision against food earlier his body was creating extremely odd noises. To rectify his hunger he grabs a coke and a twix, everything a growing boy needs. The can of coke has disastrous results leaving RetailBoy with a severe case of hiccups. He spent the next 20 mins trying to rid himself of his latest affliction until he fell off a ladder and boom…no more hiccups. Ironically, falling from a ladder was the best thing that happened to him all day. He celebrates with a well earned sit.
As his day drew to a close RetailBoys mood improved dramatically and he began to see the good in life, after all he was agonisingly close to finishing up and going home to die on his modest couch. The crowds started to disappear and he no longer wished death on everybody in a 4 mile radius of him but he could not enjoy it.
RetailBoy is too long in the tooth to count his chickens before he throws them at a car, there would be one last crushing disapointment to round off his day. Something would destroy his new found optimism…there always is something. RetailBoy, as you know, is a deeply disturbed human being. He sees positive occurrences as a Trojan horse and thus does not react until 100% certain that he is on the way home to drink whiskey and take Class A drugs in a darkened room trying to summon up the balls to slit his own throat.
Sure enough, like clockwork, an unsupervised child knocked over an entire display…3 minutes before his store closed. RetailBoy prayed to Satan for guidance but stopped short of taking the advice of beating the kids parents senseless by using each and every item from the knocked over display. RetailBoy simply threw them a thoroughly disapproving look and they shuffled away to assault somebody else with their presence. He was quite pleased with the results and carried out his shutting down sequence by walking around with a brush until people leave him alone to be one with his disturbingly realistic, yet comforting, murder fantasies.
When I look at RetailBoy I see a broken man, his apartment is filled with losing lottery tickets and betting dockets. I wondered why and inquired. He says he keeps them around to remind him to never be hopeful, trying is the first step toward failure as he says. I wonder is it the case that RetailBoy just needs to find RetailGirl, settle down in their RetailHouse and have RetailBabies but spending more than 3 minutes in his company is not unlike have ball-disease. His personality is abrasive to say the least and he randomly bursts in fits of incontrollable childlike temper tantrums for little or no reason. Women would need to have the patience of a saint and the sex drive of a rabbit in heat to even consider spending any time with this deranged individual. He is not unlike a cartoon villain.
Rumour has it that RetailBoy was found later in the day stoned out of his mind in a takeaway sitting beside a badly beaten pigeon and introducing it as his girlfriend to passing well wishers. His shoes were nowhere to be seen and his blood stained socks were tied around his head ala Rambo. Did he simply draw blood while kicking the pigeon to within an inch of it’s life, then a further two inches, or did he maim himself purposefully to match the red colour of Rambos headband? So many questions and so few answers, RetailBoy…what a guy. I for one hope he finds what he wants in life, whatever that may be. The answer is never at the bottom of a takeaway bag but he will find it, of that I have no doubt.
My time spent observing RetailBoy has been eye opening. His hatred of the common man is startling and his outbursts are bone chilling. His fashion sense leaves a lot to be desired but he says he has his reasons. His “Keenan and Kel” t-shirt has been worn everyday since the show finished back in the 90s as a protest. He wants Nickelodeon to start production on a new series of the show and is willing to let his personal hygiene suffer for his cause. His arms are littered with tattoos, one of which reads “Never forget the Good Burger fiasco, bring back Keenan and Kel”. He is an interesting person that is deeply flawed as a living creature and I for one cannot look away. He is a lovable unrelenting bollocks. He has Hiroshima-ed his own existence by employing his borderline crazy outlook on life but my god I don’t want to miss a second of it, he arouses me something fierce.
Where do I come up with this stuff?!