Bo-Bo Employment

“Wasn’t Angelina Jolie the one in The Tourist?”

“What? Oh yeah. I guess. What about her?”

“I don’t know I just – god, does your drink taste like crap? My coffee does. Jesus, I’m going to pay for this shit. I was just wondering because, you know, I just couldn’t believe Jason when he told me. I mean, look at her. That movie was romance for people going through their mid-life crisis, I tell you. God, this coffee really is awful.”

“Come on, what did you expect? People grow old. Ten years from now your own nut sack is going to be wrinkled and old.”

“Hey, I ain’t complaining. Some chicks dig that – Oh, Christ, I really can’t drink this.”

“Then don’t.”

“I’m paying for this crap.”

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to fucking – hey, yeah, we’re ready to order. Right, Frank?”

“Shit, I think I fucking burned my motherfucking tongue.”

“Well, I’m having the raviolis and a Coke, please. My friend here is going to have a glass of water and some of those fishsticks. What Frank?”

“I burned my tongue. I won’t be able to taste that, besides I don’t like fish.”

“You’re on a diet I don’t think-”

“Bring me a cheeseburger. Rare. Can I have french-fries instead of spinach? Thanks sweetheart. Oh for fucks sake what now?”

“You know, for someone who just recovered from indigestion you’re really feasting.”

“What kind of place gives a burger with spinach? Christ.”

“You are the only person I’ve met that orders coffee at the beginning of a meal.”

“It helps with my digestion. I bet they feel guilty they never ate their spinach at home and try to make it up.”

“I always ate my spinach.”

“Lance, I bet you ten bucks you went to bed at eight and knew how to cook pancakes by the time you were ten.”

“No and no I still don’t know how to cook them. Can we just discuss what we really came here for?”

“Calm down amigo, we haven’t even gotten our appetizers yet. Hey, did we order anything for that anyway? The chicken fingers looked good.”

“There are no appetizers here. We’re not getting anywhere. I knew it. You’re always like this. You always get us to meet at a restaurant and-”

“Lance, lighten up. And where is that cute waitress? I think I’ll have a beer. Oh, Jesus, you sound like my wife.”

“You can’t see how… wait, which one?”

“Second. Besides, you’re overreacting to this whole situation. Do you really need to do that?”

“Yes, I fucking do, because I knew this was going to happen. And I don’t sound like Arleen.”

“Oh, grow a pair Lance. You got fired. Boo-hoo. And you do, fuck, you should’ve seen her when she was PMS’ing. She threw me a plate once, did I tell you that?”

“I was there, you dumbass. Look, I need a job or I’ll get thrown out of my apartment. Lana doesn’t know about this and-”

“Whoa there cowboy. You haven’t told Lana yet? Well shit, you’re lucky if she doesn’t castrate you.”

“This isn’t funny. Stop – no, no this isn’t fucking ‘hilarious’. Are you going to help me or not?”

“I am, but I’m not a genie that can snap its fingers and hand you a Ferrari. You need to put effort and determination – oh man, this burger looks delicious. Hey, sweetheart, can I have a beer? No beer? Shit, this place just gets worse by the second. Bring me a Sprite then, will you? Thanks pumpkin.”

“You’re going to get sued with sexual harassment one of these days. And shouldn’t this sauce be red instead of orange?”

“You get what you pay for. Where did you find about this restaurant anyway? I’m never trusting you ever again. Damn, this is medium rare. Assholes.”

“At least the water is good.”

“Oh don’t give me that crap – no, actually it isn’t. There’s no lime in it. Shit, I ain’t paying the bill.”

“We’re splitting it, remember? Ever since you fussed over at Chipotle we settled on split-bills. Which is unfair, considering that I am unemployed. Jeez, I’m just saying.”

“This is so Melting Pots all over again.”

“Admit it, you eat more than me and your ex-wives put together.”

“You obviously did not meet Lillian. That bitch could eat a whole turkey by herself. It showed on her thighs.”

“Frank, as much as I love hearing you cursing your ex-wives to hell, I really need a job.”

“What? Jesus, blending machines make so much noise. They’re worse than babies. What were you saying?”

“Job. I need… Frank… Frank! Fuck. Frank I need a motherfucking job!”

“Jesus, scream a little louder and I bet Santa Clause will hire you all the way from the North Pole.”

“… I’m sorry, the blender, and you couldn’t… whatever. The thing is. I need a job.”

“Well, what did you work at before? Man this taste good. You know what? I take some of what I said about this restaurant back. This is one fine burger.”

“Graphic designer for a magazine. But I’ve done some accounting.”

“Aren’t you the little employee of the month? Well, I fink a fiend fof mun faf-”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s disgusting.”

“Always the gentleman, of course. Reminds me how you chugged down that keg of beer back at college and then fucked your sister’s best friend. I bet you even said thank you at the end. What, you didn’t? Must’ve left a tip then. Heard she dumped you anyway.”

“Fuck off, Jill didn’t dump me. We mutually agreed separating. You know what? Just tell me about your… friend was it?”

“Yeah, Jonathan. Well, he’s been looking for someone to handle his business. He pays handsomely, heck, even I’d take up the job. But alas I’m already a successful manager with a beautiful pay so no thank you. Besides, Elaine would dump me if she found out.”

“Dump you? She’d only dump you if she found out you were a gay stripper. And even then I think she’d stick around for a lap dance. She worships you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, are you going to eat that?”

“What? Have it. The job, Frank. Tell me about the fucking job.”

“Okay, just… scoot a little closer. Fuck, your breath stinks, have you been smoking? Of course my breath smells like onions and cheese; I’m eating a fucking cheeseburger. Anyway, what I’m about to say is off the records, okay? If you aren’t up to it, just pretend I never opened my mouth.”

“God I know where this is heading-”

“- nothing serious like hash or crack. Just some good old broccoli -”

“- told you I left all that behind after – wait what?”

“You know, bud, bo-bo, broccoli. A dody? Gasper, dew, hot sticks? You know, to go loco?”

“What the fuck, Frank.”

“And to think you were a dealer. Weed, you dumbass. I’m talking about dope, weed, marijuana. Cannabis. Are you that stupid?”

“Just call it by what it is, for fucks sakes. And as I said, that’s all behind me. I’m a graphic designer now.”

“Are you in or… hey, is refill free here or will I have to pay?”

“Don’t snap your fingers that’s – Oh, yes, it was delicious, thank you. By the way, is this a smoke-free area?”

“Oh Jesus, you are not smoking. Not here. That shit kills.”

“Well Frank, now that you mention that, I will have to reevaluate my life and quit smoking. Maybe take up knitting and write poetry on sunrises.”

“I’m not kidding and second-hand smokers get the worst of it. You’re basically killing me right now.”

“It’s not working fast enough. Besides, you’re preaching to the choir, but I have to hand it to you. You didn’t mention lungs. And I’m not killing you, you melodramatic fuck. Just… hold your breath or something.”

“I’m serious; I hate the smell of cigarettes. It’s so – no, I won’t shut up. It’s my health on the line here.”

“You drink five cups of coffee a day and you’re talking about health?”

“Look, let’s just drop it and concentrate here. Oh, for fuck’s sake… what kind of pies do you have sweetheart? I’ll have one of those with raspberry sauce, and another cup of coffee. Thanks, honey. Oh damn, did you see that? I should call her sweetbums, if you know what I mean. God bless America.”

“Wait, I thought you hated the coffee here?”

“Lance, I hate women for a week every month. This coffee is no different. Once you chug it down, it’s just coffee.”

“You’re paying for that.”

“Now wait a second, you’re a dear friend and friends invite each other. It’s a mute agreement or something.”

“I’m not buying you something you hated. That’s just stupid. It’s like eating peanuts when you’re allergic to them!”

“Look who’s talking. You’re allergic to strawberries, and I remember you specifically ate from Vanessa’s birthday cake - strawberry birthday cake. Just to get her mom’s attention which I don’t blame you. She was fucking hot.”

“I was thirteen. And you’re no better. You knocked over Kaitlin’s goldfish, made sure it was dead and called her over. Just so you could be the one to comfort her.”

“Nobody was there to prove it. Jesus, I can’t believe we’re arguing like this. Just tell me, are you up for the job or not?”

“This isn’t something I can just decide over a slice of pie. And we’re still splitting the bill. No, I don’t want any pie.”

“Look, you know how it goes. Good pay, good stuff in your pocket. You live a plentiful life and get some of the product under the table. It’s a good life. Hot damn, this is one motherfucking pie. Really sure you don’t want any?”

“Extra sure. I just need to think…”

“No, you are not fucking lighting another one of those. Isn’t one enough?”

“I’m trying to make a life-changing decision here. So, please.”

“… and this cup of coffee is no better the second time around. Can’t believe I reordered this crap.”

“Have I ever told you you’re a dumbass? Because you are. Dumbass.”

“Tic-toc, what’s it going to be Lance? Ugh, I think I’m going to throw up.”

“I will never understand what drives you to keep on drinking. And I don’t know. I just can’t go ‘yeah, I’ll be a drug dealer!’ that shit really affected my life and are you even listening?”

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t listen to you over the sound of excuses. I forgot to mention one thing, and it’s that there’s a five grand advance pay and you get your own codename.”

“Five grand?”

“That’s all you got? A codename, Lance. Like ninjas. If you ask me, I think the highlight of it all would be to call a forty year old man Mapache.”

“That’s… a lot of money…”

“No shit Sherlock, so are you in or not? You’re familiar with the lingo, well not really. You’re shit with slang. But good with hitting business. So, you in?”

“I… there’s Lana to consider and it’s dangerous and…”

“Six grand.”

“I – just – well – and… who do I call again?”

“Hey, sweetbu-heart. Bill, please? Thanks. And Lance, welcome to the club. I’ll transfer the money to your bank account and then we can talk about some distribution.”

“Shouldn’t I talk to your friend first...? Something tells me you’re lying anyway. About the eight grand.”

“Think of it as a friendly gift.”

“I don’t even know the guy!”

“Lance, if you’re going to hit this business, we’ll have to get you a nickname. You know… something to keep you hidden.”

“Are you even listening to me? I don’t know your friend, heck, why would I get paid in advance-”

“You look like a Vince to me.”

“Why do I even try?”

“The bill’s on me. And by the way, you can start calling me Jonathan.”

“Oh, you sneaky motherfucker.”

“What can I say? One can never be too careful. And anyway, we haven’t gotten together in like forever.”

“You were never a manager of a business, were you? I knew it. You’re shit with management.”

“And there goes my niceness. You owe me twenty.”

“You owe me a microwave.”

“As your employer I will not tolerate – did you just kick me?”

“As a best friend, I will not tolerate your shit. Can we go now? My ass is numb.”

“Yeah sure, but first we have to go to Starbucks or my palate will never forgive me.”