The Fall of the Average Joe

So.. it's been awhile. I decided to start doing the 'blog' thing again. I'm not sure how long I'll keep up with it, or how often. Usually I just write when something strikes me as noteworthy, to some degree. I've never really used this blog to 'bitch' and 'rant'. Well.. perhaps I have on a few occasions, but generally speaking, no. Anyway, that's besides the point. What is the point? Hmm... I'm sure I'll get to one some time... maybe.

But yeah, anyway, so... I've said time and time again how I'm going to write a book based upon my experiences working at the store. It's funny... it's kind of like living Clerks. That seems really humorous when I say it to people, and sometimes it is, but usually after the fact when I'm retelling the day's events to friends and/or family. The people that come in there are straight up fucking characters, I tell you. It's amazing just how well most of them fit into this boxed little idea that seemingly sums up their entire personae. Really... its strange. Sometimes it makes me a little sad, seeing the rapid decline of an older someone, falling to their vices... their pleasures being their ultimate undoing. I've seen the rapid decline of someone one might call 'the average joe'. He starts out as just a normal, everyday, working class type guy, coming in after work to buy a pack of smokes before stopping in at the bar for a couple of beers with his buddies. Then, over time, he's stopping in again after the beers for a half pint of cheap whiskey and a 12 pack of Natural Light to accompany him home. One man, I'll call him 'Jim', was the picture-perfect example of such a decline.

When I first met Jim he was a hardworking mechanic at the motorcycle shop across the street from the store. He seemed like a nice guy, not bad looking for an older man, and usually cheerful. My co-workers and boss had mentioned how he used to be a hardcore drinker, but had managed to pull himself 'back on to the wagon' and sober up. But then the motorcycle shop got robbed and vandalized. It went out of business permanently, leaving Jim without a job. Within a few monthes he started drinking again. At first it wasn't a hell of a lot from what I saw... usually just a couple of 24 oz beers in a day. But then it was 6 packs, then 12 packs, usually coupled with a half pint of Barett's Whiskey or White Wolf Vodka. Eventually it was just the hard liquor, with which he usually bought a 32 oz fountain drink that he'd only fill halfway. What went in the other half? You guess it- the half pint of his liquor of choice for the evening. As if that wasn't enough, this went from being a daily habit to several times a day habit. Between the spiked sodas he'd scrouge up some change for a beer, and some Pall Mall cigarettes. He went from the average, decent, hardworking guy to a rotgut booze swilling, incoherant drunk who smelled like piss, cigarettes and old beer. Jim became somewhat of a hassle, always making a ruckus in the store, complaining about service. The truth was, everyone was tired of dealing with him, but people still felt bad. They remembered the person he was before... and not this travesty of a human being he had become. Eventually his self-destructive ways got the best of him, and Jim died. They found him on his apartment floor, choked to death on his own vomit. Pretty picture, ey? Heh.

Was it because he lost his sense of self? Did he lose value in his own existence? I'm not sure he would've been all that aware, but he definately lost something. And it's just sad. Is this what society turns it's hardworking average citizens into? Was it his own fault? Not wholly. Victim of circumstance. But most people want to be a victim of life itself. Yes, I said, " want to". I say that because a lot of folks seem to be happy playing victim. Then you have someone like ol' Jim there, who lost sight of who they were and what they were capable of. And again...that's just sad. I hope, if there is some kind of hereafter, that he can look back at who he was for most of his life, and remember the good that came with it.

That's about enough of that for me... time to do what I do best... space out.

Adieu.