I'm working overtime on Monday. No holiday for me.
That happens; I suspect I will be, too.
I do the books for a truck stop, and occasionally--about six times a year, maybe--I fill in for one of the cashiers. Usually on or near holidays. No big deal. I dunno if it's on tap for this weekend, but it might be.
It's really weird, playing a clerk and being deaf.
This has nothing to do with deafness, but it was odd, about three years ago this summer. A clerk's child got hurt in an accident, and the clerk had to leave. The owner was out of town. The manager was out of town. So I said yeah, sure, I'd go in, even though it was near the middle of the night.
Circa 3:00 a.m., I was back in the kitchen smoking a cigarette, when I looked up front, and there was the top of a forehead of a human being sticking up from the counter in front of the cash-register.
Thinking it was a small child, I went over to the counter and looked down.
It was a female dwarf, very short but as wide as a barn door.
While I was contemplating this phenomenon, I noticed the truck stop had been invaded by.....dwarves. There were all these dwarves, running around, racing around, jumping around, hands-over-heads around, spinning around, laughing and chortling. There were nine of them.
All of these dwarves.
I never heard them come inside (naturally), and so it was understandably a shock to me.
All of these dwarves.
As it turned out, they had come up to this part of Nebraska to take part in some sort of clown festival that's a big deal around here.
All of these dwarves.
So many dwarves.