The 7-Eleven Bombshell

I have been debating this past week as to what my next entry should be – last Wednesday’s (7-11-07) bombshell statement from the Pope about the Roman Catholic church’s supposed supremacy: (“asserted yesterday that the Roman Catholic Church is the "one church" that Christ "established here on Earth" and that other Christian denominations "cannot be called 'churches' in the proper sense") or the 7-Eleven bombshell statement from Crazy Dwayne, a character I’ve been meaning to write about for sometime now. So, knowing that I could probably go on and on about the Pope’s declaration, I have instead decided to entertain you with another teammate on my “Bus All-Stars” list of peculiar characters. I don’t know this man’s name, but he looks like a Dwayne. And, after hearing his story, the “crazy” was added not to describe his mental state of mind by any means, but rather, the tale he had to tell.

While waiting for the bus several months ago – it might have been last fall – I stood near an older man, probably in his 70’s, at the bus stop. He was wearing a bright red and very colorful Dupont NASCAR jacket – very eye catching. I paced back and forth for at least ten minutes and there was still no sign of the bus. I don’t remember how the silence was broken, but probably either when he asked me the time or one when we shared a collective sigh of frustration. Dwayne started first, “Can’t rely on this bus – third time this week it’s been late.” This was the first time I had taken this bus in a long time, so I said, “Really?” Dwayne muttered more curses under his breath, and kept looking north, hoping to see it coming. I remember thinking, “where is this guy headed?” Then, as we exchanged our grievances about late busses and time lost etc, I was startled to hear the following: “I’m going to quit my job today.” Wow, this old-timer was still working and was ready to call it quits this very day. “Oh yeah? Where do you work?” I asked, curious for some more information. “The 7-eleven, on the corner of Bells Road,” he spat back, clearly miffed at his situation. Without another question, he tore off on his soapbox, venting his frustration with “the man” – that cruel oppressive 7-Eleven manager, a third his age, and his terrible work environment: “They don’t appreciate me – those young punks, treatin’ me the way they do – they don’t give me nothin’ but a hard time. I work damn hard – no time off, not even Thanksgiving. I’m going in and tellin’ them what I think – I’m quittin – I’ve had enough.” I really don’t think I could muster anything other than the polite head nodding and “yeahs” that one says when been completely lost for words. And then, “and the way they treated me and my girlfriend…” Whoa – did he just say girlfriend?! I seriously do not think this man to be a shade under 70 years old. And now he’s got a girlfriend. “She came in one night while I was workin’ - needed to use the restroom – she comes out 45 minutes later, blood all over her hands, drippin’ on the floor and a baby in her hands!” Say WHAT?! I don’t think my eyes have ever opened so wide since hearing that. I gasped and shouted, “A baby?!” “yeah – and we didn’t even know she was pregnant! And those bastards didn’t do nothing! I had to call the ambulance myself – clean everything up – and they never even so much as gave me a break or time off or anything after that! So I’m goin’ in there today and I’m handing in my stuff and quitting.” Seriously. I could not make this stuff up. What can one say to that? I shook my head, laughed hysterically inside – awaiting to share this tale with Rebecca. I saw Crazy Dwayne last week again – looking very strung out. He wasn’t drugged up or anything, but he looked just as hideous. The jacket was replaced with the following wardrobe choices: shoes, calf-high navy blue socks, short blue shorts, a see through white t-shirt, a black mesh hat and long, scraggly hair coming out the sides. He walked down the bus aisle and the recognition took a second to re-register, but then the bombshell story came flooding back in a hurry – and I had to contain my laughter the whole way home. By the looks of him, I’d guess he was washing dishes for a living now – well, that and being “Daddy Dwayne” to one special little 7-Eleven miracle baby.