All was going gravy in the incinerator until Andy
came along. I hate Andy. I came in the office late
as usual and saw this retard with long hair and a
slayer tattoo sitting in my chair. Herb introduced
him as Andy.By Steve Levandoski
Let's face it. If you are a musician you will probably never make enough money to pay the rent on that 2-bedroom apartment you share with 8 other people. IF you are lucky enough to get signed, the little money the record company doesn't screw you out of will be squandered on MC Hammer-type mansions (he's doing credit card commercials now), or tied up in some lawsuit. You will need to get a shitjob. I've enjoyed the privilege of having a losing about thirty different jobs in the four years since I dropped out of college. This is my guide for al you young bloods out there. Each issue will feature a different job I once had in chronological order,and how to take advantage of it while it takes advantage of you.
Here are the past issues, in case you missed them or need to review:
August 2001
November 2001
January 2002
February 2002
March 2002
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
All was going gravy in the incinerator until Andy
came along. I hate Andy. I came in the office late
as usual and saw this retard with long hair and a
slayer tattoo sitting in my chair. Herb introduced
him as Andy.
The first words out of Andy's mouth were "Goddamn boy, you look like you just got out of a mental institution!" (ohh, little did he know). Anyway, Andy went into this bullshit story about how he just got out of jail for beating up some guy who raped his sister. You see, everyone in the incinerator, including Herb, had some bullshit story about how they went to jail, and beat up every cop and minority in there, and how the cops had to call in the national guard to subdue them, and blah, blah, blah. Later I found out Andy was in jail for smuggling weed.
Andy was also the only freak who wouldn't shower with us at the end of the day. He says that only fags shower together. (Gee, I wonder what happened to him in prison). Here is a list of things that Andy did to piss me off.
1. Scribbled "Slayer" on my favorite broom.
2. Constantly kissed Herb's ass, and blamed me for
shit he fucked up.
3. Threatened to throw me in the garbage shoot until
I said that I'd pull him in with me, so we would both
go to hell.
4. Called me gay.
5. Called me a faggot.
6. Called me a pussy.
7. Said I stank. (Well, ok I did stink, But we were
surrounded by garbage for Christ's sake)
8. Bragged about finding his Dad's old Klan hood in
the attic.
9. Made us listen to David Allen "Racist" Coe.
10. Sprayed me with the power washer.
11. Complained that his girlfriend wanted sex to much.
Ohh I hated that bastard. Early on, I gave him a ride home to his trailer. He invited me in for a beer, and being underage at the time, I had to accept. It was the worst piece of shit trailer I've ever been in. The floor was caving in so bad that I felt like I was in a John Walters flick. Andy gave me a beer, and started to show me his snakes, or turtles, or some shit, so I downed my beer frat boy style, and got the fuck out of there.
I suffered working with Andy until another new guy showed up. His name was Carlos, and he was Puerto Rican. Andy lasted one day with Carlos, and then never came to work again. I was so happy. Herb said Andy called, and told him that he had to move back to Florida, because his girlfriend cheated on him. I think it was because of Carlos's ethnicity, but I like beleive the cheating girlfriend story too. I guess he shouldn't have complained about her sex drive, and should have put out more often.
Next month is - "The conclusion of the Incinerator - The Golden Months.
Don't miss Steve's other regular column: Steve's Not Having It