Specialty Wood Warehouse 01

Specialty Wood Warehouse 01

Hello, I'm Zack and I work at one of the many, many, many distribution warehouses in Middleton's warehouse district and I feel quite blessed to have acquired a job in one of the humongous warehouses because the investment group that I work for sublet a corner of the busy distribution warehouse where I peddle their wood wares. And the reason I feel so blessed is because my smaller dock area is cordoned off and segregated from the very busy main floor with those concrete filled yellow metal pillars. Which keeps the flinging and flying "beep, beep, beep" main floor forklift trucks well away from me because, you know, I'm the lady's man of the warehouse district and they are not. I mean, the jealous forklift drivers all want to kill me for being the lady's man of the place and they could still walk between the yellow pillars and stomp on my feet instead of running over them with their Hi-Lo's, but they don't because all of the lady's up in the front would be upset at them. And maybe even jealous over how all of the women up front might pamper my damaged feet after being roughed up by the rougher guys.

And you don't need to perform any fact checking against my lady's man status because you're way too busy in your life, so, let's just check the box on that and move on.

So, the humongous warehouse situation and I'm not exaggerating about how it's one of the largest distribution warehouses on warehouse avenue, but it's about 10% front offices for the management folks and support people, 85% main floor are for the warehoused products, where the forklift drivers prove every day that forklift trucks can take corners on two wheels while transporting a load and my safely enclosed 5% of space where I control everything! I mean, I control everything in my 5%, but I have my own dock roller door and everything and nobody pushes those green or red rear dock door buttons but me, so.

Anyways, my 5% area warehouses, receives and ships out, as the title of my story implies, wood. But nothing like a lumberyard, it's all specialty wood in basically rough cuts. I handle specialty wood in chunks, blocks, cubes, thick circle slices, shorter square posts, irregular shapes and things like that. Which are purchased and shipped to a variety of small furniture makers, arts & crafts stores, kitchen utensil makers and festival type vendors who either make table top inserts, wall hangings, salad bowls, stirring spoons, street address numbers, cutting boards and other things that wood crafty artists might make to make a buck. I ship out orders to several countries and receive in rough stock from even more countries.

I do not cut to size or anything like that, but I do make shipping crates, so, my working dock area has a few saws and tools. I do wrap individual field rough-cut pieces in industrial clear plastic wrap and crate several pieces together for a single vendor, but that about the extent of my wood working skills.

And if you're wondering, yep, the incomings and outgoings is busy enough that the investment group that sublet my job and warehouse dock area is busy enough that New York hasn't shut it down yet, so, it's constant enough for them to keep things going (thank you, New York guys).

And speaking of the New York based investment group, I mean, I even receive and ship out peat bog wood pieces, which I'm supposed to treat like bars of gold because peat bog wood defines the word specialty, but come on New York, it's me, your main man, so, if you're sitting there and reading this while filling out my employee evaluation from a distance, of course, I treat the peat bog wood like they are gold bars, check the box New York guys and gals.

I mean, I would never ever stack up three sliced chunks of 800 years old peat bog wood for a foot stool, not me, forget about it, not in 800 years, nope, that's not happening. You know, not without wrapping them in tough plastic wrap first, so.

Anyways, the long and short of it is that I work for the rich guys and gals in New York, but I'm contracted out and I locally report to the warehouse complex management bozo's, I mean, the warehouse complex management big wigs up front and life goes on because..."

[Footsteps clump, clump, clump right between the yellow safety pillars while narrowly be missed by the zoom zooming forklift trucks that were screeching the solid rubber tires while zooming around]

"Hey Zack, I just heard at the water cooler that you spoke with our warehouse floor manager, Mrs. Kelp, about you organizing and hosting some sort employee social mixer right here in your dock area this Friday and I have a few behind the scenes suggestions and questions for you because..."

Ahh, Mille Maye Miller from Accounts Payable with the clump, clump, clump shoes. We actually went to school together and the only thing that I need to say to introduce Millie Maye Miller, can all be said in one quick flashback to about three years ago as our graduation party circuit started to kick in:

[Whimsical flashback musical tunes and dazzling floating stars]

"[Shoulder tap, tap, tap] hey, Zack, since everyone knows that I'm so nice and that I treat all of my friends equally and fairly, I'm keeping my good girl rep intact and inviting you to my pre, pre, pre graduation party and you can talk to and mingle with any girl that you want to (as long as that girl is Sarah Jean), so, are you going to say nice things about me to everyone, especially about my perfectly pursed and puckered lips, and accept my personal invitation to attend my pre, pre, pre graduation party, hmm?"

[Reverse whimsical musical tunes and disappearing stars]

Yep, only Millie Maye Miller would have a pre, pre, pre graduation party and then a pre, pre graduation party and then a pre graduation party [inhales], all before her official graduation party [exhales], sheesh.

But she is really nice (and no longer stuck up) and I blame the early years on her dad because her mom is and always has been way too hot to blame for anything other than a 40 something trophy wife is the new 30 something trophy wife.

Oh, and the water cooler gossip had it right because if I clean, sort, stack, shift and clean, my work space would be perfect for after work mixer, which, is something I know all about. I mean, I looked a few things up on the internet and came to the conclusion that an employee social is blah, blah, boring and an employee mixer can include light refreshments and light snack food and then that an employee party includes the light beverages and snacks and includes background music with the hopes that the people let their hair down and maybe bring a change of clothing [exhales].

"Um, Millie Maye, is this your way of admitting that I was actually your school crush back in the day and now you've come to senses and this employee social hour event will be our official 'in a relationship' announcement party, huh?"

"Don't be a piece of driftwood, Zack, because you know that I have a boyfriend. Anyways, what was the first thing that Mrs. Kelp said back to you, after you proposed your mixer idea, hmm?"

"Um, the first thing that Mrs. Kelp said was NO! You know, in her half-raised voice because..."

"Mm-hmm, and just what was the second thing that she said to you, Zack, hmm?"

"Oh, she said AND SHUT MY OFFICE DOOR! Again, in her half glasses, I mean, her half-raised voice that the all of the employees in warehouse could hear, so?"

"Mm-hmm, mm-hmm and Zack, what did Mrs. Kelp scream back at you when you became a piece of knuckleheaded wood and suggested that all the women in the warehouse should attend in retro style, mm-hmm, in sheer blouses and retro firm pointy and very uncomfortable retro bras, hmm?"

Well, I might have said that, but I say a lot of things. Besides, the peat bog wood is retro wood, right my peeps (chuckles)?

"Ah-hah! Mrs. Kelp actually paused in thought for a moment before she reached for the pointy letter opener on her desk, which is when I ran out her office and almost cracked her glass pane door, so, should I have left out the part about the pointy retro bras, Millie Maye?"

"Don't be a piece of teakwood, Zack because, duh! Anyways, since I have to put up with you, I mean, since we work together, I spoke with Mrs. Kept on your behalf and you know, fixed everything, again, so?"

[An improved whimsical flashback musical tunes and super dazzling floating stars because it's from Millie Maye's viewpoint]

"{Bicker, bicker, because I said no, Millie! Bicker back, bicker back, it's just a mixer with beer, subs and pizza, bicker back, bicker back. Bicker, bicker, and Zack half suggested, like my half glasses, that I stuff my boobs into snow cone cups, bicker, bicker! Bicker back, bicker back, they don't make snow cone cups that big, bicker back, bicker back! Bicker, bicker and the employees with be mixing it up on company property, bicker, bicker. Bicker back, bicker back and you might just get thigh rubbed with a piece of hard peckerwood, Mrs. K! Bicker, bicker, no way because, wait, since when did men still get rubbing wood, Millie? Bicker back, bicker back, since most of the guys that work here are 20 something guys! Bicker, bicker, bicker and they don't visit the Transmission Shop like my lousy hubby? Bicker back, bicker back, and wear a sheer red and white blouse with two buttons open! Bicker, bicker, well, what do the younger girls in the warehouse plan on wearing? Bicker back, bicker back, something that might be risqué inappropriate for work, but not so inappropriate risqué for an afterwork hours mixer, bicker back, bicker back, bitch!}"

[A fancier reversal of the whimsical musical tunes and poofy disappearing stars]

Well, to be a fly on that wall, right?

"Millie Maye, about those retro snow cone cups..."

"Don't be a piece of birchwood, Zack, but listen, it's your mixer gig and I'm just here for your support, like with how I've already released a warehouse wide chain email, but the rest..."

[Zack checks his email inbox and huh, doesn't find any such chain email]

"...but the rest is up to you, you know, like cleaning, sorting, stacking and clearing out your area, so?"

"Well, wait a minute, Millie Maye, what about the refreshments and the pizza and the table where you and myself will stand behind where we can bump our hips and fiddle with letting your hair down and..."

"Don't be a piece of hickory wood, Zach, it's all in the chain email and listen..."

I mean, I've always heard that email all over the world has this knack for getting lost in wherever email gets lost in or at, so that happens all the time. So, it's not surprising that my copy of the chain email, um, I mean, um, well, I've had trouble with my warehouse email system ever since I started working at the warehouse and, um, the end as to why I'm not on the chain email, mm-hmm!

"...but listen, Zack, it's not in the chain email, that everyone has received and responded to multiple times already, that you have the honor of personally retrieving the RSVP from the witch girl, I mean, the Anti-Christ, I mean, Angelina from the forklift repair area since you always make it a point to wander to the vending machines to, you know, wink flirt with, um, her, so..."

Folks, the Anti-Christ, I mean, Angelina is not a witch. Anyways, the Anti-Christ, I mean, Angelina, right? I mean, if you ignore how the left side of her hair is a crazy ass rat's nest that basically stands straight out in a crazy frizz and then ignore how the right side of her head is shaven, not once, but twice and with two different strips of heights and she's hot because...

"...so don't be a piece of deadwood, Zack and buy, um, her, a bag of chips from the vending machine because there's a chance in a witch's coven that she has a piece of cherrywood under all, um, that, under all that, so, that's all for now, but keep your eyes peeled for chain email updates. And clean this area up and..."

[Zach once again checks email inbox and, well, whatever because he was going to the vending machines anyways]

"...and build some sort of quiet corner and clean out the [thumb pointing flip over shoulder] mystery utility room with the gray metal door, you know, your napping room because..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Millie Maye Miller, let's back up to the 'quiet corner' that you sped right past at the speed of light because that sounds like something you should explain to me in detail because..."

"Don't be a piece of elmwood, Zack. Or do I have to have "the talk" with you (giggles), hmm?"

Hah! How could I become such a lady's man if I needed to hear 'the talk' again, huh?

[From just over the cubical half wall as Zack was strolling towards the vending machines while avoiding the foot flattening zooming forklift trucks, which slowed down and gave Millie Maye a ride back to her cubical]

"Sir, sir, please stop yelling me because I promise you, your call is very important to us service call girls (giggles over saying service call girls) and I'm only going to put you hold again while I finish filing my nails, I mean while I retrieve your file, hold please and enjoy the elevator music [presses the hold button and lifts headset mouth piece] oh, Zack, hey, Zack, listen, about this chain email that's circulating through the entire warehouse regarding this employee mixer that Millie is pulling together, I have a few questions..."

Um, I mean, email, right? It's not a reliable source of communications.

"I mean, Cindi, there has always been a technical issue with my company email account ever since I started working here and it's because I'm a contract employee, but since my name should to in the first place slot, maybe you could try forwarding it to me again because this very much needed employee mixer that I'm barely working in conjunction with Millie Maye Miller is my idea because..."

[Cindi searches the chain email header "to" list and the "cc" list and doesn't find Zack's name anywhere]

"Don't be a piece of balsawood, Zack because..."

Well, I'm sure I was listed in the header under the "blind copy" list because...

"But listen, Zack, what's the plan for that, ahem, what you call a mystery utility room with the gray thick metal door because since the risqué outfits that Millie and myself will be changing into and wearing, we were thinking about it being a place where we could..."

"I mean, Cindi, I know all about the risqué outfits that you two girls will be wearing to my, and I say again, my mixer because the outfits will basically be Norwegian lumberjack babes with rawhide boots, curl cuffed white socks, daisy dukes or bib overall shorts, with thin ribbed white tank tops, wood cutting safety glasses and shiny yellow hard hats because..."

"Don't be a piece of oakwood, Zack because that's what the 'damaged goods' support team girls will be wearing, mm-hmm and I'm sure they will be wearing it well, mm-hmm, because they heard all about Millie's employee mixer from the chain email! But with pigtails instead of hard hats. Anyways, Millie and myself are wearing pants body suits, except for the side material from our armpits and down to our ankles is, um, missing and replaced with a few sections of long string tie laces and a fourth tie string lace that loosely binds our chest area less than closed. Oh, and there won't be any visual distractions along the way down our sides, you know, from our armpits to our ankles, like retro bra straps or undies, so?"

I mean, I don't pass out often, but I stumble sometimes.

"Cindi, I mean, I mean, I mean, consider the mystery utility room with the heavy gray door as your changing room because I alone already decided to clean it out and I'll be there in case these tie string laces need constant adjustments to keep things tight and I know all about making things tight because I tightly wrap fancy wood pieces in clear plastic all the time because..."

"Don't be a piece of walnut wood, Zack, we have boyfriends! We'll also have about a week of office shame to live down afterwards if we show that much exposed and bare skin, but that's okay because..."

"[Soft sliding footsteps closing in] mm-hmm, hey guys, hey Cindi, hey Zack, I'm not doing anything like butting in or breaking up this personal convo and I'm especially not pausing to make a fuss or create a scene, but the chain email, which has grown by leaps and bounds, still hasn't said anything about how any of the traditionally attractive girls in the warehouse are volunteering to help me get employee mixer pretty, so, I'm not making a fuss or creating a scene about that, not at all, no fuss, no muss, no sass, and I'm confident that the cool girls won't leave me hanging under the witch's hanging tree in back area, mm-hmm [and the soft sliding footsteps keep walking towards the vending machines], so, it's that time of day when I head to the vending machines and to see if they installed snow cone cups yet, so, goodbye y'all."

See? The Anit-Christ, I mean, Angelina is a pleasant person.

"(Giggles) don't be a piece of soft wood, Zack and follow, um, follow 'that' to the vending machines and if you need an ice breaker, tell, um, her, that us (giggles) traditionally attractive call girls (giggles again because saying 'us call girls' never gets old) are kicking around two different makeover ideas already and the first one involves fishnets stockings with a garter belt, but under her shorts and not under a 'goth girl next door' skirt and miniature snow cone cup pasties, well, I'll put it all in the chain email later because I'm busy working right now. [Releases hold button] sir, sir, yes sir, I've checked your tracking number and it's, um, um, one, so please cut down a tree in your backyard to make your fancy festival "Live-Laugh-Love" signs, goodbye [hangup clicks]. {Ring, ring} hello, I'm Cindi, your on-call service call girl (giggles), so how, um, sir, I just checked and your tracking number is two, goodbye [smash slam, click.]"

Well, that's call girl service that's truly next to none because none other can be that bad, right?

And I was going to buy chips anyways and that's why I followed the witch girl to the vending machines because I'm not afraid of any Anti-Christ witchcraft because...

[The witch, because Angelina will admit to being a witch, senses a presence behind her and springs into action]

"[Springing finger hands] poof, I curse you to a single life of softwood until you die, Zack, poof!"

"And I love you too, Angelina because..."

"Don't be a piece of ash wood, Zack because the latest release of Millie's mixer chain email, mm-hmm, has the traditionally attractive girls in the building promising to help me with a 'look at me now' look with a 'goth girl next door' makeover and I can tell already that you can't wait for that, especially if a pre mixer photo or two gets leaked out on the next edition of the company wide chain email, mm-hmm, so, confess and I'll reverse my forever softwood spell, Zack, confess! And buy me a bag of chips, please and thank you."

Um, confess what, right?

"[Grr, grr, grr, goes the ATM Card vending machine] Anti-Christ, I mean, Angelina, I won't need any preview of any leaked photos since your confession is that you can't hardly wait to be my goth girl next door girlfriend date for, you know, my mixer, so?"

"Don't be a piece of green wood, Zack. However, I'm witch enough, I mean, I'm woman enough to say that if we were to bump elbows around the second quiet corner, I mean, it's not like my cherrywood is meant to be there forever because..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Angie, what second quiet corner, hmm? This is my mixer and I haven't even agreed to constructing the first quiet corner, so, what second quiet corner because..."

"Don't be a piece of weeping willow wood, Zack, the second quiet corner that Willow Williams from Accounts Receivable requested because she feels that her boyfriend of two plus years deserves the experience of glory hole mouth sex and she's volunteering to role play a glory hole slut named Bamboo Bambi! Didn't you read the latest release of the chain email that literally came out just 2 seconds ago, hmm?"