St-Henri Life

Dave woke up and got in the shower. Upon coming out, he heard shouting upstairs and figured it must be the crazy lady upstairs again. Probably having yet another fight, on the phone it seems, with her so-called boyfriend. She: some sort of crackpot, or crackhoe, and He: three quarters of an elephant who drives a big ol' pickup, which he drinks out of on a regular basis. And i don't mean orange juice.

The one-sided screaming match ended shortly after his first bowl of muesli.

Dave started getting dressed, he flinched at the thought of being reprimanded for being late again and so sped up the process up by deciding that matching socks were for suckers. He still didn't understand how a record store could get so caught up on punctuality, he was rarely more than 4 minutes late...As he made for the front door he heard a car-door slam, or as it were, a pickup door. The boyfriend had arrived and he lost no time, he started screaming at his old lady. He did it with all the style and grace of a four year old whose mother was pulling him away from the television.
"You can't do this ! I swear...You'd better get yer goddamm sorry ass out here woman...(chest puffed out)...you hear ME ! I'm talking to you, get out here NOW !...", he yelled.

Dave chuckled. "Poor saps", he thought to himself. "Well, god knows I'll never end up like that...", he afffirmed aloud. He unlatched the first lock, made sure he had his wallet and bus pass and prepared to exit.
At this point, however, like some sort of white-trash thunder god, the boyfriend filled Dave's ears with:

"Holy fuck woman, if you don't get out here NOW, I am gonna feckin' kill someone ! I'm gonna kill the first person I SEE !!!" Dave froze. The first person, if he stepped out of his now-unlocked door, would be him.

The record store gave him a warning that day, 6 months probation, which means no free concert tickets, no free promotional CDs and even less respect than ususal. He tried to explain why he was late...

They gave him an extra 6 months.