That night, I was walking past one of the town’s many Taco Heaven stores, right where the highway stretch ends and I get into town, when a car full of young guys was pulling out of the parking lot. I was walking in front of their car as they waited for traffic to clear, minding my own business, when I heard them laughing. One of them shouted out, “Nice backpack, faggot!” He was referring to this little girl’s backpack I had on that I’d gotten from the Salvation Army. I honestly wasn’t trying to be cute or funny or ironic by wearing it-- it was just all they had in the store and I needed a backpack. It has all these cartoon dinosaurs on it, is colored in all these bright fluorescent shades of pink orange, light blue and yellow.
I just proceeded to walk by the front of the car, ignoring them, and when they pulled onto the road, started driving past me, I felt a soft drink cup full of ice smack me right in the face. Then they started pelting me with sloppy, soggy tacos. One of them was screaming, “You better start paying your Taco Heaven bills, you fucking cum mopper!” Then some guy was hanging out of the passenger side window, screaming his head off at me, his face redder than a blood-covered stop sign as he shouted at the top of his lungs, so full of insane, ignorant rage, “Hey faggot! Uncle Elaine’s is that way!” pointing to the West when I was headed North. Uncle Elaine’s is the main gay bar in town. And the guy just kept screaming as they went down the road until they were out of sight and I could still hear him carrying on. My face was wet; my cheeks stung and I was mad as I could possibly be. My cheeks and forehead were smeared in wet, icy water; sour cream; bits of yellow taco shells, meat, grease, cheese, tomatoes that ran down my cheek and lettuce flakes that speckled my hair as I wiped a glob of hot sauce from my eyes to see. But what could I do? I just continued to walk to work, shaking with rage and not really knowing what the fuck was going on, having been bombarded by such negativity in such as short time that I could barely see straight, but I had to get to work. As stupid as it is and as much as I hate it, my job is all I have right now and I can’t let anything stop me from getting there every single day. In seven years I have never called in even once.
I get there at 3:30 am and the first thing I did when I got in the store was punch in, then I put on some coffee. I looked around the store, looking for Grant the homo who I knew was the third-shift clerk again that night; didn’t see him so I stepped into the bathroom to wash the soft drink and ice residue off my face, only to see Grant sitting on the goddam toilet again, making that horrible, quizzical “poop face” and it triggered something awful in me.
“You mother fucker!” I screamed at Grant, rushing into the bathroom. I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up from the toilet seat. “Hey dude!” he shrieked like a girl. “I’ve got a hairy taco still hanging out of my butt!” “I don’t fucking care, Grant,” I snarled. “Did you give my fucking phone number out to anybody recently? I’m sick of seeing the side of your ass and if you gave my number out to any of those cock sucking token customers I’m going to kill you.”
I let go of Grant’s throat and he fell to the floor, his leg smeared with shit, tomatoes and sour cream covered in pubic hairs from those hideous Taco Cow tacos that now seem to be everywhere; Wally has everyone eating them. “Yeah, I’m sorry,” Grant gasped. “I gave it out to some guy, some blonde haired dude dressed in these cheesy-looking desert khakis. I’m sorry . . . . it was stupid of me . . . I fucked up.”
I went into the customer bathroom, scrubbed my number off the door, thinking of Barney and whether I wanted to fuck his hairy pussy or kill him for what he had been doing, him being the guy who had been writing the phone numbers. Then I went into the broom closet and looked down to see a note someone had slipped underneath the door which said: “I want to suck your cock in exchange for your pubes. Call me: 334-4621.” Furious, I raced up front and called the number immediately. A groggy, half-awake voice was on the other end as I screamed into the receiver, IF YOU SLIP ANOTHER FUCKING NOTE UNDERNEATH MY BROOM CLOSET DOOR I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, BARNEY!! I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR HAIRY PUSSY OR YOUR WAR RECORD!” Then I hung up and commenced to sweeping out the arcade booths.
It’s true: all the queers want to suck my cock where I work and who can blame them? After all of their cum I’ve scrubbed from the walls; all the used condoms I’ve disposed of; the hollowed-out cucumbers; it would only make sense that they’d want to suck my cock and shave my pubes for me as a way of saying “thanks”. Once, a few years back there was this deaf mute who’d come into the store to masturbate and suck dick. He had a thing for me, I guess, but he couldn’t talk so every time he passed me in the dark hallways of the arcade, he’d purposely bump into me and bellow out this grotesque, horrible emission of a mating call. It disturbed me greatly and then one day he scribbled a note out to Rick, the flaming gay clerk at the time which read “Is the janiator gay? I want to suck his cock and eat his pubes in a taco.” He spelled it “janiator”. Hahahahaa! Rick wrote back to him, “No,” then the guy responded with “Then can I rape him and eat his pubes in a taco afterwards?”
I think the deaf jerk was trying to be funny, but it was totally crass. Rick showed the notes to me later, and it didn’t really bother me. I thought it was sort of funny at the time, actually, but needless to say I kept a close eye on the guy for years until he finally just gave up on eating my pubic hairs and quit coming into the store. Everyone leaves in the end. I’ve been at this place doing the same shit, cleaning up the same fucking messes for seven years, and at this point it just isn’t funny anymore. I am so filled with contempt; with hatred for myself and for every one of the stupid queers who care about absolutely nothing except for sucking a cock; or eating pubes; or shitting hairy tacos out their asses. I’ve tried to be nice with them but you can’t even have a decent conversation with most of them without having to hear a lewd remark about how they’d like to your pubic hairs between their teeth.
