[spoiler]
Episode XXXIIVMMM: The Elder Ogs Strike Back
When we last left TUCKERFAN
He was temping for a NISSAN SUBCONTRACTOR
It was a dead end job, but it (sort of) paid the bills.
It did have a few things going for it.
There was the SEXY SUPERVISOR and the HOT INTERRACIAL LESBIAN COUPLE.
Despite Tucker’s efforts to find a job as a machinist
no one was hiring.
Still, so long as nothing went wrong
Tucker would be able to survive until a machining job turned up
Then Tucker’s STEP-MOTHER and FATHER went out of town.[/spoiler][Peter Griffin] Put the tea on, I’ve got stories![/PG]
Those of you playing the home version of Tucker’s Life Sucks, know what happens next. My car dies as it always does when they go out of town. So, I borrow my father’s car, and have my car towed to a shop to be looked at (I’d thought it was the fuel pump, but was quickly able to figure out that wasn’t the case.), and it turns out that the crank’s broke. I call my dad to let him know that the car’s a goner, and he and reality decide that while they may have had a lot of really fun times together, it would be better for both of them if they parted ways. He starts rambling about how I’m so smart that I ought to be able to get a job making $75K/yr at any company I wanted, then rambles that I’m an idiot, because I’m not making that kind of money and I deserve to be homeless. When he gets back into town, he takes back his car and refuses to loan it to me unless I agreed to the following demands: [ul][li]A full accounting of the places I apply to.[/li][li]A copy of my credit report[/li][li]I disconnect the internet and cable[/li][li]I sell my PCs[/li][li]I “start socializing.”[/li][li]I only apply to the jobs he wants me to.[/li][li]I spend every weekend visiting him and my step-mother[/li][li]I call him at least every other day just to say “Hi.”[/li][/ul]
Now, the first request is reasonable, given that I want to use his car, but the rest are out there in left field. I mean, I can see dropping the net, etc. since that’s money I could be using to put towards a car, but I’m not asking him for money, so I don’t see why my credit report should be brought into it. Selling my PCs isn’t a good idea, since I kind of need them to be a machinist. “Start socializing”? [Scooby]Bwuh?[/Scooby] How the hell am I supposed to do that without spending any money? (Mind you, my finances are so tight, that I’m eating mayonnaise and kleenex sandwiches on Wonder Bread and I can’t afford the gas to go anywhere other than to work, the grocery store, and the odd job interview.) There’s no place to hang out in Gallatin that’s free, and most of the bars are filled with women who look like the banjo player from Deliverance (the only ones that aren’t are the Latino bars, and I don’t speak Spanish). If I drive to Nashville, then I won’t have the gas go to work. Calling my dad, isn’t a great idea, not only because he spends practically hours on the phone lecturing me as to what a worthless piece of shit he thinks I am, but because my only phone is a prepaid cell phone, so it costs me money to do this. Visiting him and my step-mother, besides being painfully dull for me, uses gas which I need for work, etc. Letting him dictate the jobs I apply to, isn’t a good idea, either, since he’s got no clue as to what I’m qualified to do, and I’d be spending my time applying for jobs as CEO for large companies, so I quit speaking to him, and in some respects, life has never been better.
The first thing I did, was to get another car. It’s an 81 Honda Prelude, that when I got it, needed nothing more than a coat of paint and some minor interior work. It had complete maintence records and everything worked on it. (Note, if you have a shaved head, it is not a good idea to open the sunroof during the day. I found out the hard way.) The payments on it were outrageous, but it was transportation, which I was going to need, if I wanted to find a better job (or even keep the one I had).
Right after this, my eldest brother discovered that he had prostate cancer Hmm, I’ve been having a little trouble urinating of late. You don’t suppose. . . and my mom came down to help take care of him as he recovered from surgery (apparently no one in the family is speaking to my father, either). She saw my car, and was impressed with the kind of shape it was in. (She’s worked for a Honda dealership for close to 30 years, now.) At this time, I also managed to get a job as a machinist, which paid a little better than the temp job I had. I’d literally been sending out resumes for every kind of job I was even remotely qualified for, and that was the only place that bit. (At that time.) Not only was it a better paying job, but it was closer to where I lived. I could also smoke at my machine while I worked. 
I gotta say, that it was a great job, and that they really knew how to run a machine shop. Everything was neat and clean, their proceedures made sense, and if anyone in that place qualified as a “Pete Puma,” it would have been me (though I have to admit that one of the set up men did look like The Crusher, but he knew what he was doing). A month or so after working there, my mom called me up and said, “You know, I just don’t like you making payments on a car that’s so old, why don’t you call the dealership and find out what the payoff amount is, and I’ll see if I can’t pay it off for you.” I’m rather shocked by this, since the Honda’s literally the nicest car I’ve owned in 15 years, and my mom knows Hondas, so I don’t know what she was worried about (not that I was complaining, mind you).
While my mother was mulling over paying off the car, I got a call from a guy at one of the temp agencies I’d applied with. He and I ended up playing “phone tag” that went like this:
Temp Agent: Tucker, I’ve got a position if you’re interested.
Me: Well, I kind of like my present job, but not so much that if you’ve got something paying better than $11/hr I’d turn it down.
TA: How does $16/hr grab you?
Me: Like a nude jello wrestling match with the Olsen twins.
So, I have to go out, and take a test at the place to run a rolling mill. I’ve heard of them, never seen one, and don’t have any information on one, so I’m a bit in the dark on the whole thing, but for what they’re offering, I can’t afford to turn it down. I take the test (lots of basic math, but they give you a calculator, so it doesn’t take any time at all), and then I get a tour of the plant. As soon as I walk out into the plant, I think, “Welcome to the 19th Century.” It’s dark, dingy, and most of the machines date from the 70s or earlier. There’s very little automation in the plant, and even though it should be possible for them to use robots to weld, all the welding’s done by humans. Looks to be hot sweaty, nasty work, just like when I was working in the foundry, but it certainly pays a helluvalot better.
I get the job, and I turn in my notice at my old job (hoping that they’ll match the pay rate, but it quickly becomes apparent that my new job pays more than the supervisor at my old job is making), tell my mom about the new job, figuring that she’ll change her mind about paying off the car, but nope, she goes ahead and pays it off anyway. (Color me surprised and grateful.)
It was also around this time that I learned that a a local musician, whom I’d met briefly and liked immensely as a person (he apparently felt the same way, since he chewed the ass out of the mutual friend who introduced us, for not introducing us sooner) killed himself, leaving behind a wife and kids. [Lewis Black] You don’t kill yourself when you’ve got a wife and kids. You kill yourself when you’ve got a shitty single life like I’ve got![/LB] Apparently, he’d gotten strung out on meth and that combined with depression pushed him over the edge.
Still, things were looking good, and the job, I discovered turned out to be a little different than what I thought it was going to be. It turns out that all I’m required to do is push a couple of buttons every couple of hours. The rest of the time, I just stand around drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, and explaining to Possum (that’s the nickname his coworkers have given him, I swear) that, no, I didn’t get any pussy last night, and yes, I have given up on fucking.
The day before payday, I’m driving to work, it’s nice and foggy, and as I round a bend on the freeway, I see a deer standing in the middle of the road. I jam on the brakes, screaming for it to get out of the way, then out of the corner of my eye I see another one. [Lewis Black] Well, that really fucks up my plans. [/LB] I managed to avoid Bambi #1, and if Bambi #2 hadn’t felt seperation anxiety and decided to follow Bambi #1, I wouldn’t have hit her. You know, the worst moment of an accident is that last second before impact. You’re brain begins processing things at a billion times normal speed, so that second takes an eternity to pass, and your brain filters out all noises, except those related to the crunching impact. Gone are the sounds of tires squealing, you screaming at the damned deer to get the fuck out of the way, or the DJs blathering away on the radio. It’s just absolute silence, until you hit, and then it sounds like Og himself hammering away at your car as you hit the deer.
I had just enough time to hop out and inspect the damage, and then jump back in and race to work. I damn near cried when I saw it. The hood’s bent, grill’s smashed, the radiator’s been pushed back an inch or so, and the passenger fender is bent, not to mention one of the head lights out (and because of the damage, can’t be replaced until a bodyshop fixes the car). When I got home, I called mom to let her know what happened. The first thing she said was, “Is the car still driveable?” I almost said, “Why, yes, mother, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” but I didn’t.
So, other than getting my net service restored today, that’s about all that’s happened to me. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?
