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seattle newspapers, shaved, bbw, strap ons, news, moviedatabase, sex shops, 2, information, big fat sex pics, monster, boy, digifreq, won't, coworkers, patches, and, uk, wiktionary, The day finally arrived when The Man was to make his debut, and I kept my distance. No way I was going to be all buddy-buddy with the person who would soon ruin my life. They put him in charge of the backroom, the receiving desk and all that, and I figured he was back there right now with time a bunch of flow charts and a retractable pointer-stick, explaining his "theories." The prick. Oh, how I hated him. I walked around the floor time and straightened the Pink Floyd section (again), and told myself it time might not be all that bad. I could move back home, get serious about school finally, and try to make a fresh start. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, this interloper motherfuckin' bastard? Later that night I saw him approaching in my peripheral vision. I prepared myself for battle. I wasn't going down without a fight, dammit. Oh, he might eventually defeat me, but it wouldn't be pretty. Not for anyone involved. And he walked up and said, "Excuse me, do you know what section Bob Dielan goes in?"
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Eventually I was able to flip-flop the two jobs, and was working at Peaches full-time, and the grocery store part-time. But I still needed both good and evil to pay my bills. Then I started hearing rumors that the wiktionary store director at Peaches wiktionary had hired a guy who'd graduated from the University of North Carolina with a degree in "music business." I didn't even know they offered such a thing, and wondered what it was all about. wiktionary I mean, why do you need a diploma to stand behind a counter, act all superior, and mock people for buying Bryan Adams cassettes? What the hell, man? I started to panic. After all, I was the night manager, low-man on the managerial totem pole. I'd surely be the first to go, once Mr. Fancy-Pants moved in with his music degree and his big-ass sack o' knowledge. I could see it all slipping away, and was envisioning a future filled with cucumber-waxing and floor-buffing. I was a nervous wreck, and secretly hoped the guy would be run over by a bus.
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