The Legend of Speedy
I can’t tell you his real name, but I can tell you that everyone called him Speedy. The reason was simple: He was addicted to speed.
I first heard about the legend of Speedy from my parents, who were coworkers of his at a factory job they had together. He was always moving, moving, moving. Fast, fast, fast.
And he was a dirty man, too. Not just in the traditional this-guy-doesn’t-seem-to-shower-much kind of dirty, either, although I have heard he did smell weird. This was the kind of dirty that you normally either see or hear about coming out of the locker room. His mind was completely occupied by just one thing: Sex.
He liked to talk about sex, joke about sex and turn just about any conversation into an innuendo about sex. In other words, he was a true talent in the douchebag subculture.
So, that’s how I first heard about him. But I first saw the Legend of Speedy for myself at a greasy spoon type of diner years later, when I was about 14 years old. I was having a Gyro and fries at Charlie’s Coney Island when my parents noticed that the busboy across the room was none other than Speedy himself. He apparently looked very much the same from when they last saw him. From what I could gather, that meant he always had greasy, unkempt hair, the scraggly remnants of a beard, and a rather large and protruding gut that peeked out from under his shirt. Yes, Speedy was a real head turner. Although I bet the heads were usually turning to look away.
Not mine, though. Not today. I had heard so much about him, I couldn’t help but watch his every move. He would move at around Mach 5 from table to table, clearing the dirty dishes and wiping the table surface down with a wet rag. But what was funny about it was that, every time he wiped the table, he would mutter, rather loudly yet to himself, “Sonofabitch, sonofabitch, sonofabitch.” Then he would walk away and head to the next table where he would start the routine all over again.
So just picture this fast moving, wild eyed pig of a man wiping down a table furiously and with great speed all the while mumbling “son of a bitch” over and over. Only, Speedy was saying it so fast it was like the there were no spaces between them. The phrase “son of a bitch” took on its own life and just became one incredibly long compound word. “Sonofabitchsonofabitchsonofabitch.”
I don’t know what happened to Speedy why he appeared to have gone so mental. But I know he didn’t seem to be so obsessed with sex anymore. Or, at least, so I thought.
I saw him for the last time just a few years ago. No longer wiping down tables and saying “son of a bitch,” he had moved on to working in the frozen foods section of Meijer. Perfect place for him, right?
Anyway, here’s what happened. Speedy was seemingly minding his own business as I watched him from afar. He was putting away Swanson microwave dinners or something, not once saying “son of a bitch,” as far as I could tell. Just then, a female shopper was grabbing a few things out of the freezer next to him when one of her items slipped out of her hands and to the floor. Stepping slightly away from her cart, the woman bent over to pick up the product. In retrospect, she should have bent at the knees. She didn’t. She bent over at the waist, causing her butt to stick up in the air.
And Speedy didn’t even hesitate.
Seeing the woman’s rump just a few feet away from him, he quickly sprung into action. He immediately stopped what he had been doing, stood directly behind the woman, and proceeded to give her 3 or 4 good “humps.” Yes, Speedy was simulating the act of sex on a woman he didn’t even know...right in the middle of the frozen foods aisle of Meijer.
Well, the woman seen him and just flipped out! But who could blame her? She went ballistic on him. Yelling, screaming, probably even cursing. She wanted the manager! She wanted this man fired! This was an outrage!
I stuck around just long enough for the manager, who had apparently overheard the commotion, to come over and ask what had happened. So while I can’t say for sure that he was fired right there on the spot, I do believe that is likely what happened. I never saw him again.
I don’t know where Speedy is today, but I’ll never forget him. How can you forget a guy with a legend like that? And one who lives up to it, nonetheless, right? But wherever he is and whatever he is doing, I’m sure he’s doing things the only way he knows how: Fast!
***** Read this and other stories at the BabesWithDouchebags blog *****
I first heard about the legend of Speedy from my parents, who were coworkers of his at a factory job they had together. He was always moving, moving, moving. Fast, fast, fast.
And he was a dirty man, too. Not just in the traditional this-guy-doesn’t-seem-to-shower-much kind of dirty, either, although I have heard he did smell weird. This was the kind of dirty that you normally either see or hear about coming out of the locker room. His mind was completely occupied by just one thing: Sex.
He liked to talk about sex, joke about sex and turn just about any conversation into an innuendo about sex. In other words, he was a true talent in the douchebag subculture.
So, that’s how I first heard about him. But I first saw the Legend of Speedy for myself at a greasy spoon type of diner years later, when I was about 14 years old. I was having a Gyro and fries at Charlie’s Coney Island when my parents noticed that the busboy across the room was none other than Speedy himself. He apparently looked very much the same from when they last saw him. From what I could gather, that meant he always had greasy, unkempt hair, the scraggly remnants of a beard, and a rather large and protruding gut that peeked out from under his shirt. Yes, Speedy was a real head turner. Although I bet the heads were usually turning to look away.
Not mine, though. Not today. I had heard so much about him, I couldn’t help but watch his every move. He would move at around Mach 5 from table to table, clearing the dirty dishes and wiping the table surface down with a wet rag. But what was funny about it was that, every time he wiped the table, he would mutter, rather loudly yet to himself, “Sonofabitch, sonofabitch, sonofabitch.” Then he would walk away and head to the next table where he would start the routine all over again.
So just picture this fast moving, wild eyed pig of a man wiping down a table furiously and with great speed all the while mumbling “son of a bitch” over and over. Only, Speedy was saying it so fast it was like the there were no spaces between them. The phrase “son of a bitch” took on its own life and just became one incredibly long compound word. “Sonofabitchsonofabitchsonofabitch.”
I don’t know what happened to Speedy why he appeared to have gone so mental. But I know he didn’t seem to be so obsessed with sex anymore. Or, at least, so I thought.
I saw him for the last time just a few years ago. No longer wiping down tables and saying “son of a bitch,” he had moved on to working in the frozen foods section of Meijer. Perfect place for him, right?
Anyway, here’s what happened. Speedy was seemingly minding his own business as I watched him from afar. He was putting away Swanson microwave dinners or something, not once saying “son of a bitch,” as far as I could tell. Just then, a female shopper was grabbing a few things out of the freezer next to him when one of her items slipped out of her hands and to the floor. Stepping slightly away from her cart, the woman bent over to pick up the product. In retrospect, she should have bent at the knees. She didn’t. She bent over at the waist, causing her butt to stick up in the air.
And Speedy didn’t even hesitate.
Seeing the woman’s rump just a few feet away from him, he quickly sprung into action. He immediately stopped what he had been doing, stood directly behind the woman, and proceeded to give her 3 or 4 good “humps.” Yes, Speedy was simulating the act of sex on a woman he didn’t even know...right in the middle of the frozen foods aisle of Meijer.
Well, the woman seen him and just flipped out! But who could blame her? She went ballistic on him. Yelling, screaming, probably even cursing. She wanted the manager! She wanted this man fired! This was an outrage!
I stuck around just long enough for the manager, who had apparently overheard the commotion, to come over and ask what had happened. So while I can’t say for sure that he was fired right there on the spot, I do believe that is likely what happened. I never saw him again.
I don’t know where Speedy is today, but I’ll never forget him. How can you forget a guy with a legend like that? And one who lives up to it, nonetheless, right? But wherever he is and whatever he is doing, I’m sure he’s doing things the only way he knows how: Fast!
***** Read this and other stories at the BabesWithDouchebags blog *****