where's mr. peepers?
Chris (32)
Every now and again, friends of mine would pick up odd, temporary jobs to keep themselves afloat in SF. This was back in the mid-90s when rents were amazingly cheap, many apartments were huge and we lived five to a space. If at least two people had steady incomes, one could overlook the sometime deadbeats who relied on seasonal employment. And if one of these "sometime deadbeat" roommates had THE "kraxie" connection, some more things could be overlooked.
Well, times can grow tough. And, at each major holiday, help is always needed. Ever wonder how all those roses get processed and prepped for the millions of lovely Valentine's Day bouquets?
CRACK!!!
After round-the-clock shifts prepping, shaving, pruning, arranging and coordinating deliveries for the flowers to arrive to the caller's beloved, one's mind can get hazier than a day in Los Angeles. Or maybe one's mind could go hazy from kraxie smoke?! My roommate made it home, unwinding, relaxing, unpacking her purse from the floral temp job when she realized, where's my pipe!?! Did she leave it at work? Loan it to a co-worker? Did she even bring it to work? Oh God!! Did she leave it in the bathroom?
"Fuck!" she screamed. "I think I left on the back of the toilet!"
Not only did she call work and ask if someone could go into the bathroom and check if her pipe was there (it was) but, if they could hold onto it until tomorrow since she was going to take a nap and chill. Kindly, they did.