![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
Hello, /b/. It's time for me to vent.
I work at a movie theater. It's a sucky, low-level job, but I'm lazy and I'll take what I can get. Now, for the most part, I don't mind most of the people that I work with. But we have some really weird people working here, specifically one guy who's name is Corey. Or, "Core-RAAAAYYY."
He only comes in to work on weekends with his mother. His mother is tolerable enough, save her annoying way of stuttering and holding out the last syllable of any given sentence she says. "Hey, CORE-raaayyyy, what movie you wanna seeeee?" or some such. She apparently has other children, all grown, whom I never see, and she works during the week at an elementary school. The reason why Corey ends up tagging along with her constantly is that I don't believe he has the mental capacity to do anything on his own.
Usually, Corey works as an usher, meaning that he cleans and checks theaters and has little contact with customers. Often he can be seen wandering around aimlessly between sets, trying to strike up conversation with the rest of us. Unfortunately, his conversations are entirely one-sided. No matter what you say to him, it's as if he is unable to process a word you say into anything other than agreeing with him entirely. He has succeeded in fundamentally undermining the foundation of language.
A typical conversation between me and him will go like this:
Corey: Hey, you think it's gonna be busy today?"
Me: I thought I told you to stop talking to me."
Corey: Yeah, I don't think it's gonna be busy today either.
Me: Did you hear anything I said? Leave me alone.
Corey: You think it's gonna be busy?
Me: You just asked that.
Corey: Naw, naw, I don't think it's gonna be busy. Is it? Naw, naw...
Me: Go away.
... And so on. Usually, I use him to vent my frustrations on, as he never, ever gets mad, and he will come up to me out of the blue and say that he's seen my sister, and give an entirely inaccurate description of her, and when I say my sister doesn't look like that at all, he'll insist that YES, it IS my sister, in his usual manner, ignoring what I said.
Today, we had the following conversation after he walked from another conversation I only caught bits and pieces of.
Me: Hey, is Joy still talking about steve Irwin over there?
Corey: Oh, Steve Irwin? How's he doing?
Me: He's dead, Corey. He's been dead for almost a year.
Corey: Oh, really? How's he doing?
Me: He's dead. I just told you that.
Corey: Really? What's he doing right now?
Me: He's dead. He is decomposing.
Corey: Really? What's he up to?
Me: He is DEAD. He can't be doing anything.
Corey: Really? Naw, what's he doing?
Me: He's wrestling alligators in heaven, Corey.
Corey: Oh, okay... yeah... what's he doing?
My co-worker Devin, who happened happened to be right beside me, was laughing hysterically during this whole conversation, and Corey did not even notice. If I didn't get such a kick out of it, I wouldn't even bother. Then Corey went on to talk about something else, and Devin just agreed with everything he said, while Corey just went on and on about nothing.
Corey is 26 years old. He says that he is too young to go into a rated R movie, and you should be at least 30 to get into one.
Eventually, it was decided by my fellow co-workers and I that Corey and his overly-doting mother should star in a sitcom together, since their back-and-forth conversation resembles something that sprung out from the darkest depths of the most desperate TV screenwriters mind. It would be called "The Corey and Eileen Show," and it would be the Number 1 TV show ever in the history of everything. And Joy, the usher who looks vaguely like she might have Down Syndrome and does nothing but talk constantly about the Ravens, her connections with God and whatever is on the cover of this week's "Us", would be their landlord. Her catchphrase, said in her usual smug manner, would be "Welllll, you knooowww, I think Corey and Eileen are gay."
It would be epic.
I work at a movie theater. It's a sucky, low-level job, but I'm lazy and I'll take what I can get. Now, for the most part, I don't mind most of the people that I work with. But we have some really weird people working here, specifically one guy who's name is Corey. Or, "Core-RAAAAYYY."
He only comes in to work on weekends with his mother. His mother is tolerable enough, save her annoying way of stuttering and holding out the last syllable of any given sentence she says. "Hey, CORE-raaayyyy, what movie you wanna seeeee?" or some such. She apparently has other children, all grown, whom I never see, and she works during the week at an elementary school. The reason why Corey ends up tagging along with her constantly is that I don't believe he has the mental capacity to do anything on his own.
Usually, Corey works as an usher, meaning that he cleans and checks theaters and has little contact with customers. Often he can be seen wandering around aimlessly between sets, trying to strike up conversation with the rest of us. Unfortunately, his conversations are entirely one-sided. No matter what you say to him, it's as if he is unable to process a word you say into anything other than agreeing with him entirely. He has succeeded in fundamentally undermining the foundation of language.
A typical conversation between me and him will go like this:
Corey: Hey, you think it's gonna be busy today?"
Me: I thought I told you to stop talking to me."
Corey: Yeah, I don't think it's gonna be busy today either.
Me: Did you hear anything I said? Leave me alone.
Corey: You think it's gonna be busy?
Me: You just asked that.
Corey: Naw, naw, I don't think it's gonna be busy. Is it? Naw, naw...
Me: Go away.
... And so on. Usually, I use him to vent my frustrations on, as he never, ever gets mad, and he will come up to me out of the blue and say that he's seen my sister, and give an entirely inaccurate description of her, and when I say my sister doesn't look like that at all, he'll insist that YES, it IS my sister, in his usual manner, ignoring what I said.
Today, we had the following conversation after he walked from another conversation I only caught bits and pieces of.
Me: Hey, is Joy still talking about steve Irwin over there?
Corey: Oh, Steve Irwin? How's he doing?
Me: He's dead, Corey. He's been dead for almost a year.
Corey: Oh, really? How's he doing?
Me: He's dead. I just told you that.
Corey: Really? What's he doing right now?
Me: He's dead. He is decomposing.
Corey: Really? What's he up to?
Me: He is DEAD. He can't be doing anything.
Corey: Really? Naw, what's he doing?
Me: He's wrestling alligators in heaven, Corey.
Corey: Oh, okay... yeah... what's he doing?
My co-worker Devin, who happened happened to be right beside me, was laughing hysterically during this whole conversation, and Corey did not even notice. If I didn't get such a kick out of it, I wouldn't even bother. Then Corey went on to talk about something else, and Devin just agreed with everything he said, while Corey just went on and on about nothing.
Corey is 26 years old. He says that he is too young to go into a rated R movie, and you should be at least 30 to get into one.
Eventually, it was decided by my fellow co-workers and I that Corey and his overly-doting mother should star in a sitcom together, since their back-and-forth conversation resembles something that sprung out from the darkest depths of the most desperate TV screenwriters mind. It would be called "The Corey and Eileen Show," and it would be the Number 1 TV show ever in the history of everything. And Joy, the usher who looks vaguely like she might have Down Syndrome and does nothing but talk constantly about the Ravens, her connections with God and whatever is on the cover of this week's "Us", would be their landlord. Her catchphrase, said in her usual smug manner, would be "Welllll, you knooowww, I think Corey and Eileen are gay."
It would be epic.
Now, if you read through that, you'll get an idea of what Corey is. Lately though, he has been goddamned hysterical. Yesterday night, he remarked that he thought that Batman and Robin would probably do really well this weekend.
Batman and Robin, of course, came out 10 years ago, and sucked. Not that this matters to Corey, of course.
Of course, being in a good mood, I started to goad Corey into talking more about how Batman and Robin would do. In his confusion and unfathomable Corey-logic, he suddenly jumped to Harry Potter, and came up with the jumbled title of Harry Potter Meets Robin.
You can't make this shit up.
This struck me as such a horrible, contrived idea, it was genius. I doodled the idea quickly on a courtesy bag, and then asked Corey if he could write Harry Potter Meets Robin for me. In his usually manner of speech, he insisted that I should take on the task of writing this epic crossover saga, though I feel that I can't truly do the idea justice. I could try and write it as how he would say it, but it's unlikely anybody outside of my theater would find it funny.
"And then Alfreeeeed, Alfred went up to Robin and said 'Hey Robin, Hey Robiiiin, Harry, Harry Potter is here to see you. And Then Robin said 'Really? Harry Potter is here to see me? Naaaahhhh, naaaaaahh... Really? Naaaahhhh..."
And Robin would go on like that for about 20 minutes.
YOU ARE THE DRIVER. WHAT WOULD YOU DO, IF THIS HAPPENED TO YOU?
- Mood:
giggly - Music:"I Want a Dog" by The Pet Shop Boys
Comments
LAWL!
Shit needs to be chronicled.