MBA - Moron$ Ba$ and A$ PG Version

by Jeff Blackwell

  Chapter Fifteen

  Changes

  Change happens. Sometimes it’s for the better and other times, it’s not. This change was most definitely for the better for someone I cared a lot about. I had been doing the work and night school thing for about three years. While it seemed I’d never finish, I was learning a lot.

  It was a hot and humid summer evening. While the window air conditioner was putting up a good fight, it was going down for the count. I had taken a break from studying and enjoying one of Anheuser Busch’s finest cold products while squinting at some dumb sitcom on the seven incher. Over the hum of the plant, I heard my front steps groan and pop like they were on the verge of collapse. That could only mean one thing. Earl was visiting my abode. He came through my plywood door and plopped himself down on my sagging coach in the living room / dining room / study / kitchenette combination.

  “Glad you could join me to try and sweat off some pounds. I should charge a gym membership for my sauna facilities.”

  Earl grinned as he caught the Bud I tossed to him.

  “Mick, you got any plans for next Saturday?”

  “Well, I was thinking of raking the concrete out front, organizing my spice rack, and finishing off that quart of Butter Pecan but, other than that, no. Why do you inquire, my overgrown hairy friend?”

  “Jen and I are going to get plowed.”

  “We’re going out drinking? Again? Remember the last time when you wound up slow dancing with Doris while wearing Jen’s bra on your head?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I meant we’re getting married. We want a small ceremony with just a few close friends. And I want you to be my best boy.”

  Whoa, Nelly. He meant hitched. And he wanted me to be the best man. The plant must have been kicking up a lot of dust that day. Through misty eyes, I managed to choke out, “I’d be honored, big guy.”

  Of course, that meant that I had the pleasure of taking Earl out shopping for a tux.

  “Size what? Have you tried Otto the Tent Maker over on Maple Street?”

  Since when did the kindly retail clerk transform into an insult comedian?

  We struck out at seven men’s clothing shops and were on the verge of having Earl walk down the aisle in his work coveralls. We were tired and discouraged. We didn’t even notice that we had walked across the street against the traffic signal. The blue lights and single burp of a siren behind us alerted us to the error of our ways.

  “I should have known that it was you, Mick, leading my future son-in-law down the path of lawlessness. It starts with jay walking and pretty soon you are knocking over the Savings and Loan.”

  So the county sheriff went to the same laugh academy as the retail clerks?

  “Sorry, Will. We are so frustrated trying to find a tux in Earl’s size that we can’t see straight.”

  “Yeah, it seems I am too big for their britches.”

  “You guys are wasting precious time shopping for clothes when you could be on the golf course. Look, I can overlook the foot traffic violation, but I may have to give you a ticket for being sissies. I’ll tell you what. This is your lucky day. I’m not only going to turn you loose, I am also going to loan Earl my old tux. I think Victoria can let it out enough that Earl would look pretty sharp in it. Now go book a tee time before you decide you’re going to go drink Cosmos and get your hair and nails done.”

  Apparently, sensitivity training hadn’t reached the thin blue line in Buncombe County yet.

  The tux did fit Earl nicely. However, nobody paid much attention to him once the dazzling white gowned Jen started down the aisle escorted by Will in his dress uniform. Behind them followed the flower dog. Yes, flower dog. The aging but still very bright Bread crept up the aisle with flowers lightly attached to her tail. As her tail wagged, the flowers were strewn perfectly. One of the animals had performed flawlessly. But could the other? We all held our breath as Earl recited his vows. Amazingly enough, he got every word right. The repeated practices I had with him paid off. But I drew the line at the “kiss the bride” thing during those sessions. He managed to get that right on his own. The reception was at Chuck’s house. Earl got a little tipsy and tried his version of break dancing. Reports were that it registered six point two on the Richter scale in downtown Asheville.

  It took another two years for me to finish night school. Chuck was right. I spent my days working long hot hours at the plant and weekends and nights in class or studying. I managed to squeeze in a little golf and a little softball, but not much else. I earned a technical degree with a minor in business and another minor in sleep deprivation.

  Chuck and Rhonda came to my graduation. Earl and Jen came with Bread and a few other plant employees. Chuck seemed to be as happy as I was to see my sheepskin.

  “Well, damn, you did it. There were times when I was sure you were going to fall asleep on the job. But if you ever did, I never caught you. And you graduated top of your class. Well done, Mick.”

  “Thanks, Chuck. I never fell asleep because I was too tired to make the effort to lie down.”

  “Always the jokester. Anyway, Mick, Terry Morgan finally decided to retire. Starting Monday, you are the new Operations Manager at the plant.”

  Earl gave me a big slap on the back and Bread licked my face. I was relieved it wasn’t the other way around. With Earl, you never know. I was ecstatic about this turn of events and could not wait to start my new role and tell Mom and Dad.

  My salary and ownership percentage increased as business boomed. This allowed me to achieve a rather comfortable state of financial independence. I was able to finally say goodbye to my in-plant accommodations. While it was bittersweet moving out of the locale where all the action and reaction took place, I loved my new modern townhouse in Asheville. It had carpet, a big color TV, insulated plaster walls, actual kitchen appliances, a soft queen size bed and smelled of nothing at all. Paradise! I was able to buy a Nissan 380Z (self dubbed Studbucket). It Was slightly used, but was to Dreamboat and Horse as Angelina Jolie is to Bea Arthur. Horse was put out to pasture and spent his remaining days rusting in a barn behind Chuck’s house. Dreamboat became a coffee table. She sits proudly in front of my fireplace to this day.

  Speaking of accommodations, I had also achieved one of my prized goals. I had my own office on the third floor of the administration building. It had windows, a floor that didn’t scream every time you stepped on it, and a real door! The only odor it had was caused by furniture polish and my aftershave.

  Suffice it to say that my date frequency increased proportionally with my financial status. I don’t want to say Asheville women are shallow, but most did prefer automobiles with no holes in the floorboards and a boyfriend that didn’t smell like chemical stew. The future was looking very bright, indeed. Chuck’s vision about education improving life seemed to be spot on. However, that vision was about to be clouded.

  M