I Want To Apologize To Everyone I Offended Last Wednesday, But In Fairness, I Thought I Had Just Won The PowerBall
Hey Brian. I appreciate you meeting with me. Jenna, you should probably hear this too. As a matter of fact, everyone in this Dairy Queen should listen up. I want to apologize to everyone I offended last Wednesday, but in fairness, I thought I had just won the PowerBall.
I don’t know if any of you follow the PowerBall, but the jackpot was 1.6 billion dollars. That’s billion with a “B,” Kevin. B as in “bank,” beneficiary,” and “buh-bye, bitches.” 1.6 billion dollars, Kevin. Do you have any idea how many 1979 golden Firebird Trans-Ams that is? No, of course not. You’re still driving your mom’s minivan to work. This guy with the butterscotch-dipped cone definitely knows what I’m talking about. Anyway, I was momentarily blinded by the thought that I’d never have to work at this frozen Thunderdome of misery again, so you can see why I did what I felt I had to do.
I’m sorry, okay. I apologize for decorating an ice cream cake with the words “Ta-ta, motherfuckers” before making it rain sprinkles all over that Girl Scout troop. I should probably also say sorry for pushing the soft-serve machine over, spilling chocolate and vanilla slurry across the dining room floor, shutting down dipped cone production for the rest of the day, and trying to light the machine on fire with a birthday sparkler. Actually, I take that one back. I don’t apologize. I’ve begged Brian to replace that horrible frozen spooge machine for years; I saw my chance and took it. Fuck that soft-serve machine and fuck the engineers at Ice-COM who built it. But to the people whose shoes were ruined, I am sorry. You’re not soft-serve machines, you’re human beings, and none of you deserved that.
Oh, and Jenna — I’m sorry I said that your mouth looked like a caved-in gopher hole before I kicked open the doors to leave.
Really? I could have sworn that was you. See, you’re doing it now. The mouth thing. How do you do that? Never mind. Maybe I was thinking of Jamie. Regardless.
I also owe that church group an apology too. There was no need for me to slap the Bible out of that guy’s hand, call him a gullible fool, and declare myself his one true God amid gasps from his congregation and sobbing from his daughter. Although, in fairness to me, I sure felt pretty godlike when I thought that I was a billionaire, and there’s not a single one of you who wouldn’t do the same. Jenna, you’re doing that mouth thing again.
As we now know, I did not win the PowerBall. Unfortunately, I mistook a three for an eight, and my excitement got the better of me. I’m human. I mean, who among us hasn’t felt an excitement so great that they have complete disregard for social norms, personal space, and the DQ employee code of conduct? Though perhaps grinding against the freezer of Dilly Bars, for some, may have been a bridge too far. I see that now.
I think that’s it. Wow. It feels like a giant weight has been lifted from my shoulders. For the first time in days, I feel like I’m finally free. Not as free as I felt when I thought I was a billionaire, but free-ish. Also, and this is probably a bit uncomfortable, but I really need this job back. This wasn’t the only place I visited when I thought I won, and there are some legal fees that I have to consider now. Anyway, Birddog says that you may need someone to work nights. I’m available, and I still have my uniform, minus the sleeves, which I ripped off after I dumped that mop-bucket all over that soccer mom. No apologies there; she was a total Karen. If you can find it in your hearts to forgive me, it would be an honor to “grill & chill” with the team again. I only have one demand: please get a new soft-serve machine.
