When I gave up the Stock Boy Business for Good...

When I was 15 I got a job at Toy's "R" Us as a stock boy. I was there for about two months until a matter of fun got a bit out of control and I was fired. I was 15 years old and the responsibility of stocking shelves was more than I could handle at the time. The place was joke. Everything was overpriced, customers complained and the managers were pathetic.

Toy's "R" Us was always hiring. It was a revolving door. Nobody ever stayed longer than two months at a time. Around the neighbourhood, it was known as a place to make some fast money while refining your fun skills. But nobody could ever handle the dreariness of the place to ever stay.

A few weeks after I started, my best friend, Rob, applied. He was broke, on probation and needed a job. Rob was a decent guy. He always had some of the finest Hash and everyone in the neighbourhood knew he was generous. We considered ourselves to be the Gentry of Pot Smokers. We were young gentlemen. So I told one of the managers, "Rob's an upstanding and elegant guy. You won't be sorry." At that point in the job, I was a model employee. So they took my word.

A few days after Rob came aboard, the tone of the place had changed. Rob and I were all about fun. Wherever fun existed, we were part of it. And if it didn't exist, we made sure it would.

Often we'd smoke some hash before our shift and spend most of it playing with toys. The managers started to complain. Our work ethic, they said, was lacking. Complaints were daily. I tried to explain myself. I told them I was good at my job, but they couldn't grasp my concept of fun and work... That the two are supposed to go together. But they wouldn't listen.

The feeling was mutual. A few days later, Rob and I got into a water balloon fight. I'd throw a volley of water balloons over the isles and if luck was on my side, I'd hit Rob with one. But most of them just hit the customers. That didn't sit well with the managers.

We just didn't care anymore, and Toy's "R" Us felt the same about us. It went from, "Do what your told," to "Fuck man! Let's see what we can get away with today."

We called ourselves "The Champions of Fun" as an honour to our hero Hunter Thompson.

We both knew the end of our time was nearing. So we decided to put the Fun into high gear. I'll never forget our last day... I was standing on a ladder while Rob handed me boxes. I'd stack them, one by one, on the top shelf. Eventually room ran out and there were still a few boxes to stack. I tried squeezing them in, but they kept popping out.

Rob decided to give it a go. He climbed to the top of the ladder, stepped back and threw himself into the boxes. It almost worked. I said, "Do it again Man!" It made sense from my point of view. After the next push, it worked. The last box popped right into place but the shelf started to wobble.

We looked at each other. Somehow the same thought came to us... I looked at Rob and said, "Well Pal, it's been good working with ya!" He looked at me and nodded. He took a step back and with the grace of an Olympic diver leaped into the shelf...

It took a few seconds but the isle made a loud rumble. There was Rob, perched deep in the boxes laughing like a madman when, without warning, the isle started to rumble again. It sounded like a volcano erupting. It did. A second later it started to fall apart. Shoppers started screaming. So did we. Panic took over the place...

The aftermath was a sight for sore eyes... Rob had single handedly taken down a 15 foot high by 100 foot long isle... We were covered in a ten foot high pile of toys, boxes and shelving. To us, we were covered in a mountain of fun. You must understand that to your average 15 year old Juvenile delinquent, that level of destruction is beautiful sight...

The manager was freaking out. We knew we're in deep shit. But we didn't care. We played coy and said we were hurt to avoid the coming trouble. Ambulances came and took us away... To us, that was a prestigious ending to our stay... Plus the kids at school loved our story. At the hospital, the manager said we were fired.

But it didn't end there...

A few weeks later, we went back to get our pay checks. Rob was having a smoke and as a practical joke, he thought it would be funny to put the lit butt into my jacket pocket. I had no idea. So while we're apologizing to our old boss, I smell smoke. I look around, nothing? I look down... Holy Shit!!! My pocket was on fire. My jacket went up in a matter of seconds. I flayed in wild panic trying to put the fire out. But it was useless. I was going up in flames, quickly...

At that moment, Rob thought it would be funny to get the fire extinguisher. He walked up all nonchalant and said, "Stand back" in an arnold swarchenegger voice. He pointed the can and let it spray for a good minute.... The place was covered in white dust...

To make a long story short...The ambulance came, again. But so did the police. We got tickets for mischief and were told never to set foot in a Toy's "R" Us.

They docked our pay for all the damage and the ambulance bill. My pay check was less than $10.00 for that week. And right there and then Rob and I decided to give up the stock boy business for good...

This is a true story... Scouts honour!

-TheStory