Good Excuse: I can't pay because I was stuck in THAI PRISON

You know, I was trying to let this go, but it's a little after 11 and I just drew a comic about it so I have to commit it to my BLOG.

I really fucking hate people who store things, even though their existence provides me with a job and money for things like fuel and shelter and neon crawlers from CVS. I hate them so much that I tell my friends about them. I think about them before I go to bed at night. Sometimes I mutter "fucking assholes" into my pillows when I'm half awake at 4AM... and I'm thinking about those fat, crusty motherfuckers.

One day when I was about 17 my (Asian- so he seemed wise to my racist white self) friend's Dad got real serious on me and said "Leave work at work and home at home... that's the key to happiness," but I just can't fucking do it! It's Friday night and I'm sitting around my Mom and Dad's living room drawing pictures of me setting a stranger on fire.

There were at least four people who crossed my path today that I could have done without... but this guy, he's a really outstanding turd. Every time we talk to someone, we note whatever bullshit they say in an account we have set up for them. This comes in handy because these sloppy whores can't keep anything straight, especially the lying-ass stories they tell me all day long. Mostly I don't really care because I can tell it's taking every fiber of their being to be able to string sentences together, and I'm actually impressed that they are resilient enough to have survived long enough to lie to me for several consecutive months- but this guy's lie really went above and beyond the call of duty.

So this man, Kevin, calls me early in the day to pay his bill by phone. This is a very normal thing and I didn't think twice about it until he said to me "Yeaaaahhh... my things were almost sold at auction last month because someone over there ddiiiddnn't quite do their jooobbbbbb."

This immediately struck me as interesting because normally if we don't quite do our job, people's things don't get sold at auction. Fortunately, Kevin was ready to let me know exactly what the problem was before I even had a chance to ask, but not before I had a chance to glance over his account notes, which let me know (thanks to a big mouthed friend of his) that KEVIN was in the clink the previous month!

Kevin told me that his friend brought a check in to pay his bill, but we never applied it to his account. He explained to me that this made him very uncomfortable because he really counts on me to take care of his things. I really let Kevin down. Despite a spell of guilt so strong that I almost took my life, I asked him two questions: One- was the check ever cashed, and Two- why didn't he come pay the bill himself. I wanted Kevin to tell me some lock down stories! There is nothing wrong with that. My job is boring.

Kevin then returned the let down twofold- he informed me that I'd have to contact his mystery friend to check the status of the ghostly unapplied check (we don't usually have our customers' fave five on file) AND that he was "Ouuut of the counnntrryyyy" and too busy to come in and pay the check.

Normally I would just let this go- but Kevin's tone was a little condescending and I don't take shit from pack rat jailbirds. I said "Well, Kevin, according to our notes you were actually in jail last month."

The phone line went silent and then Kevin said... and I fucking quote:

"I was in Thai Prison... for abouuuut a month."

THAI PRISON for ABOUT A MONTH.

I don't know how one gets caught up in Thai Prison for about a month. I guess someone that gets locked up abroad would need storage! I wanted to crawl through the phone and set that man on fire. What a horrible fucking lie. At least tell me you were in the hospital with a mystery disease! Tell me your third cousin died... something. THAI FUCKING PRISON!?

Ever the voice of reason, my Dad said "Maybe he got caught jaywalking."