Secondhand Story, First Rate Funny

My sweetheart has a manufactured home store and he was talking with a couple of his workers during a long drive on Highway 84 yesterday. They were telling him a story about a man who used to work for him, and an occasion when they had been driving with him after a job.

Now, before I get too far into the story, you have to understand a little bit about this guy; we’ll call him “Shane.” Shane has been in the mobile home installation business for a long time. He has a long history of shady dealings, like tires and tools coming up missing after jobs, a sketchy attendance record, and issues with his driver’s license that resulted in him not being able to drive any vehicle whatsoever, let alone a mobile home toter. Shane is one of those employees that takes advantage of my sweetheart’s better nature, by “borrowing” money for medicine for his wife or a last-chance utility bill when he was just paid a few days ago. He once told my sweetheart that he needed a few hundred dollars to pay off a truck that he’d been hiding in a storage locker for months, to keep the repo man from getting it. Shane, and pretty much everyone he knows, are in a constant state of investigation, incarceration, or parole, making him one of those rare individuals who is always in the market for “clean urine.”

Back to our tale: Shane was driving home from a job with these two guys (back when he used to drive) when he spotted a woman’s purse sitting on the side of the road. “Did you see that!?” he yelled, pointing to the unattended handbag. Oncoming traffic and the trailer he was towing be damned, he slammed on the brakes, and made a few quick and daring turns, including a 180-degree swing through someone’s lawn. He pulled up to the site where he’d spotted the pocketbook, brought the truck and trailer to an abrupt stop, and bounded out of the cab of the truck. As they watched, he scampered hurriedly to the bag, scooped it up, and leaped back into the truck, announcing, “Boys, Big Daddy has won the lotto! WOO HOO!” and he opened the bag. Inside was not cash, jewelry, credit cards, or whatever ill-gotten gains he had envisioned. Inside was a pile of shit. This is not a metaphor meant to indicate that the contents were nothing of value. This was literally poop.

One can only imagine the scene when some woman had to defecate so badly that she emptied the contents of her purse onto the passenger seat, placed her handbag under her bum, and let ‘er rip. But whomever she was, she became an instrument of karma for poor, degenerate, Shane.

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