Mockery
By Tom Waters
()
About this ebook
Mockery (Waters' ninth collection of humorous essays) was designed to mirror a stand up comedy act in terms of pacing and content with themes centering around the institution of marriage, the inescapable heredity of family and the aggravation of dealing with any and all human beings on a day to day basis. When read in the proper order, the book may cause a brain aneurysm. If read at random, Mockery may cause scurvy, flop sweats, excessive whiskey drinking, 'the vapors', permanent and irreparable agitation and terminal anti-social tendencies. Waters' has devoted his life to grumbling and moaning about whatever strikes him as funny while making others laugh at the same time. He often makes fun of others at their expense or resorts to being goofy when all else fails.
Tom Waters
Tom Waters (40) lives and writes in Buffalo, NY with his son Benjamin and his obnoxious cat Morris. In the past 15 years he's somehow managed to get 11 books published while freelancing for The Buffalo News, ArtVoice, FilmFax, Acid Logic and many, many more publications in print and online. Furthermore, he hosted a "podcast" for 4 years (Big Words I Know By Heart) and pitch hit over to a live video show with the same name on YouTube and Time Warner Cable.
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Mockery - Tom Waters
Mockery
Copyright 2016 Tom Waters
Published by Tom Waters at Smashwords
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Manifesto
Foreword by Mike Hilliard
Babes On A Plane
Bad Coverage
Quiet Time Or Else
‘A Vacation From My Problems!’
Please Take Your Kodachrome Away
Frank Miller Can Blow Me
Mama, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Into Fat Gamers
Zero Tolerance
When In Sloan
Double-Barrel Diplomacy
Perpetual Money III: Wingman Of The Year
Form of…A Spoon!
Wife-Beaters & Rollerbladers
Best Laid Nervous Breakdowns
Beer & Foaming At The Mouth On The Campaign Trail
Perpetual Estrogen
My People
Butch & Tom
Tom & Twig
Pussy Magnet
St. Peter’s Waiting Room
About the Author
Other Books By Tom Waters
Dedication
Dedicated to Jim Butch
and Lynn Twig
Waters.
I love you both beyond words and even though we don’t know what dying planet my ship came from, thanks for raising me as one of your own.
Manifesto
Every part of our lives is worth laughing at. Political correctness is a large contributor to the death of comedy as we know it and it has no place in a world worth poking fun at. Traditional journalism with integrity and objective narration is extinct (if it ever existed in the first place) and all of us carry on with more pretentiousness than is entirely necessary. Make a mockery of our existing structures, agencies and antiquated or outdated value systems and perhaps you’ll formulate a more informed opinion or (god forbid) a well-developed sense of humor.
Foreword by Mike Hilliard
The year was 2005. It was a much simpler time, before terms like Hope and Change,
Economic Recession,
and The Situation
made life much more complicated (and miserable) for the majority of us. What made this year so memorable for me wasn’t a certain Hurricane, or the fact that Michael Jackson was dismissed on all charges. It was the year I met Tom Waters.....
The summer of that year, I took a big leap of faith in my professional career. I’d been working in retail for five years, four of which were at a big name toy store, and another as a manager of a large video rental chain. You can probably take a shot in the dark and figure out where. I had just gotten a new boss, and could see things probably weren’t going to work out. One of my (many) professional strengths is to see long-term where a company or retail district is heading, and whether or not it will be worth my time to stay. Tom calls me a ‘Job Nomad’ because of this, but I like to think it’s smart, forward thinking. Just because I’ve had 7 jobs in 10 years, doesn’t mean I’m a job-hopper. Anyway, after applying for a few jobs here and there wouldn’t you know it, about an hour after I put in the application for a small video game company called ‘EB Games.’ I got an interview and then got the job. One catch though: I wasn’t going to automatically be given my own store to manage, I’d have to earn it.
I was pumped. Not only was I a big movie buff, I had loved video games since the first old-school Atari hit the market. And now here I was given the chance to run a store that I had so often frequented as a customer. It was risky though, because I’d be leaving a company where I had my own store with a manager’s salary. With this move, it would be back to square one with less pay. I was determined though, and knew my superior skills (and looks) could get me to the next level, no pun intended. On my first day, I was to report to the Delaware Avenue store in Buffalo, which happened to be the one Tom managed, to begin my training. I had already met Tom briefly while filling out some paperwork for the new job, and I remember my boss at the time and he were talking about some new essay he had written. I just figured it was some creative outlet that he dabbled with on the side. Tom seemed like a nice enough guy, but that was all I could gleam out of that quick first meeting. The first day of work, however, would change how I’d see him and lead to adventures (and shenanigans) for years to come.
For those of you not familiar with video game stores, one of the services they offer is the repurchasing of your old games and systems. In walks a customer to sell his rather old Playstation system. The first model. The Playstation 2 had been out for a while, and this gentleman was looking to ‘trade in’ his first model to get the newer system and some games. Without going into the logistics of buy-low, sell-high business models, an old system isn’t worth very much. Tom explains this to the customer, telling him exactly how much money he’s allowed to give per the company price list at the time. The customer doesn’t like this number, and proceeds to haggle Tom about the price. Tom (in a rather calm, polite, and understanding voice mind you) tries explaining the situation ...in ...a .....slower .....and .......simpler.....and ..... sarcastic ....way .......that the customer (or a 4-year-old) could understand. In typical retail fashion, the customer actually believes he’s always right and continues to argue. I’m watching this unfold from across the store, so I can only tell what’s going on by the wacky arm movements of the customer, and Tom’s face as it begins to turn a darker shade of red. The customer finally agrees on the price, and buys a new system and some games. Tom (being completely and understandably fed up with the whole ordeal) takes a handful of change out of his jacket and slams it down on the counter. I say ‘tries’ because the change doesn’t stay on the counter. Tom misfires and the change flies everywhere, including at the customer. I’m trying at this point not to roll around on the ground laughing. Expecting the customer to make some kind of scene or snide remark, he instead picks up his change and merchandise, and leaves. Must have felt embarrassed enough after arguing over a few dollars on a two hundred and some dollar transaction.
This was an amazing first for me though. For the previous five years in retail, I was told to shut my mouth if a customer gets abusive, or is wrong about something. Tom actually sticking up for himself and not just taking it showed me a new way to deal with problems.....get sarcastic and throw change at the customer! From that moment on, I watched how Tom handled ‘sticky situations’ with people. I learned that if someone gets abusive or thinks because you’re standing behind a counter it’s ok not to treat said person like a human being, you don’t necessarily have to take it. I adapted my current retail knowledge and picked up some strategies that, thanks to Tom, made me a better manager and helped my career take a big upswing. I ended up getting my own store and did pretty well for myself at EBGames. That is until Gamestop came along, bought the joint, and dissolved the entire company model. But hey, I still learned somethin’.
Throughout the following years, Tom and I would have many such adventures, from retail stories to bar reviews, strip club mishaps to insane parties. While moving from company to company (ok, I admit it, I jump ship at the first sign of something better), I’ve met many people and made hundreds of acquaintances. But Tom and I learned we had a lot in common and just clicked, and over five years later I’m proud to consider him one of my closest friends. If you happen to know Tom personally, you know what an accomplishment that is. I mean come on, the guy goes through friends like I go through jobs. What? No, seriously, he’s a bear to get along with and constantly insinuates that I‘m a closet homosexual. I have to plan an evening with him between his 6 o’clock nap and his 8 o’clock bedtime. And don’t get me started on his taste in music. Wow, I guess we don’t have as much in common as I thought. Well, anyway, read this book and please tell your friends to buy it, so I don’t have to listen to him constantly and desperately peddle this thing for the next two years.
Thanks,
Intentionally Bald Mike
Babes On A Plane
I spent seven hours on two different plane flights this week with a small gaggle of screaming babies and I’ve come to this conclusion: babies should not be allowed on planes. The people who bring babies on planes should be boiled in oil and have their genitals pickled to prevent future infractions. I can’t understand how smoking is such a deplorable action during airplane travel when it’s perfectly acceptable to strap some gurgling abomination into a seat and let the thing scream it’s fool head off for a three hour flight.
If they weren’t serving scotch on the rocks during my eleven am trip, I’d be writing this from a jail cell right now. You’d see a dated head shot of me on the front page with a headline along the lines of ‘Man Drop Kicks Babies Into Overhead Compartment: Hogtied By Air Marshals With Cigarette Dangling From Snarling Swearing Mouth’. I’m not kidding. I would have lost it. There’s no reasonable excuse for babies on planes. I had to endure seven continuous hours of four to five newborn monsters crying, wailing, and screaming nonstop on my flight. The sound of children crying is like an ice pick in my brain, and I even went so far as to turn my headphones up to a deafening volume so that I could get a nap in after my silo of scotch.
Why take a baby on a fucking trip? They’re not going to remember the experience. Babies aren’t seeing the sights, snapping pictures, picking up poor tourist merchandise or signing off on rental cars. Leave them at home or check them at the nearest kennel. The only thing these parents are doing is making the entire experience more annoying for themselves, other passengers and more importantly, me. If I’m not allowed to smoke, infants shouldn’t be allowed to cry. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect the airline stewardesses to go around with pillows, headphones, and a few pairs of socks with some duct tape to shut those goddamned kids up. Seal their drooling mouths and save me the effort.
Leave the kid with relatives or let the paperboy watch him. Why would you want