KAY-BEE TOYS!

This job is the only time anyone has ever said, "You are fired," using those very bald words to sever my contract of employ. There was neither hemming nor hawing, nor any attempt to soften the blow. Frankly, I deserved it. Chris and I went to Boston with my Aunt Betty when I was supposed to be at work, and I just forgot to call in or even check the schedule.

I don't regret it, either. I didn't really care if the kids wanted to steal Now & Laters from the front counter--they were welcome to them, in my opinion, if only they would SHUT UP. Stopping kids from stealing Now & Laters, however, was the major preoccupation of the manager, assistant manager, and various other employees, one of whom was a bowling champion who would practice the bowling form down the toy aisles.

Not being particularly familiar with bowling, I had to ask someone else what he was doing one night, when I saw him run, bend his left knee, lean forward, and kick out his right heel behind him, all while throwing his right arm ahead of him with his first three fingers close together. "Ballet?" I asked. He snorted scornfully in my direction, not even looking at me. "Bowling," he said. "The only true sport." He wasn't even an old man--he was my age! Fifteen-sixteen--seventeen MAYBE.

Anyway, If I ever think I want kids, I will just visit Kay-Bee Toys. Fucking brats.

 

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