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Picking Up Shifts
The journey of Avant Garth, a man in search of insurance, from Chuck’s to Minneapolis.
I worked at a bar for about a year after college. It was located near campus, near a Mexican restaurant I liked and I figured, why not? It was a social thing, I could meet people, play guessing games with myself when I saw a group of 21-year-olds — like, which one of you is farting right now? People fart a lot but it’s rarely talked about in popular culture. It’s not in movies or in books. It’s as common as any other thing in life.
If I ever write a book I will talk about gas.
“As the light of day broke through his bedroom window, the smell of dead hot dogs lingered in the air. As he slowly pulled the covers from his body, a haze engulfed him—like the light filling up his room. But much, much worse.” — an excerpt from the book I’ll never write
Anyway, another perk to this gig was having access to the jukebox and the unmitigated authority to skip songs and play Meat Loaf’s “Paradise By The Dashboard Light” whenever I wanted. This was the most societal pull I had up until this point in my life. Meat Loaf rules! Ja Rule drools. That’s what I told some dude one night.
When I skipped songs on the jukebox, I felt like Hugh Grant in the ridiculous British Christmastime rom-com, Love Actually — near the beginning of the film, after…
