Bullshit…Was the King With Fries
(Working at Castle King Summer/Winter 1989)
As I listen to A Tribe Called Quest’s classic album “People's Instinctive Travels and the Paths
of Rhythm,” my mind drifts back to one of the many “jobs” that I had during my early
formative years between 1988-1991, also known as my high school years. Looking back on that
time now at the age of 45, I can claim, with the utmost confidence that I was a very focused
and determined young man, with a vision and a goal. My vision and goal was cool, as far as
the average 16 year old, who was still figuring out himself was concerned.
I was a member and a large participator (i.e. starter) for my high school football and track
teams. Thus, I knew much of what would become known in the 2000’s as multitasking or doing
too much at one time. However, even with my schedule of after school activities and academic
devotion, I wanted and needed some MONEY. I wanted to dress FRESH, like Big Daddy Kane
I wanted to attract the girlies with a few new outfits and of course I needed a few dollars to go
and kick it at the movie theater and eat afterwards. Mom and Dad preached the importance of
hard work, perseverance and that was great inspiration, but inspiration was not buying me a
new pair of suede shell toe Adidas.
So when football and track season was over, I knew I had to find a job, a summer job. My first
option of course was to get a job at one of the two local malls. Come on…think about it,
getting a job at the mall at the age of 16 for any teenager is on the same level as an adult
winning the lottery!
I envisioned the opportunity to be at the mall and actually getting paid to be there. I saw
myself working at a store were cute girls would come in often with a need for help and who
better to help them than me! I envisioned myself high fiving friends that would stop by and
making the extra money that I wanted, while being a first class flirt. Yeaahhhh…that’s what I
However, those so called managers at the various stores I applied to at the mall could not or
would not see any potential in me. They refused to see the vision! Looking back, I still cannot
understand what qualifications they were looking for that I did not have. Let’s examine the 16
year old me, shall we. You had a young man who was making great grades in high school and
was a great athlete, who was on track to do the college thing. I never got into any serious
trouble in school and the school’s definition of trouble, was me getting detention on certain
afternoons, because I was late to class or to school. Please…where was the problem?
I remember my last point of frustration, after weeks of applying to several mall stores and
visiting them several times to follow up on my applications. Following a recent follow up visit
to the mall I was walking and I came across this older looking man who happened to be
wearing a manager name tag. He was in charge of a store that I really did not want to work for.
It must have been a pet store or a hardware store.
The guy told me that their store did not have any job openings rather quickly, as I began to
initiate a conversation. I looked at him like he was stupid, because I really did not care about
that, I just wanted an honest opinion from someone that was in a position of management. I
needed answers dammit, minus the attitude!
I told the man of my qualifications and asked him…very boldly…”Would you hire me if you
could?” He said yes and I demanded to know, what seems to be the problem with these other
stores? He shrugged his shoulders and said “I don’t know?”
That’s when I was forced to downgrade my “high level” job outlook. From visions of the mall,
to Blockbuster video (remember them, good riddance), Kentucky Fried Chicken (Ugh!!!),
McDonald’s (Nooo!!!), The Dollar Store, Family Dollar (what is the difference…) Krogers,
Winn Dixie, Food Lion and of course (BooBoo) Castle King.
I remember receiving a call at home one afternoon, from an individual whose voice seemed
moderately professional. After answering the phone I heard a voice say “May I speak with
Jassiri,” “This is he,” I replied. "My name is Jack Sharass and I am the manager at Castle
King on Peach Orchard road. I had an opportunity to read your application and I would like to
invite you in for an interview.” I must admit that after hearing this guy say the words “invite
you in for an interview,” I was not buzzing with excitement. I did not see the excitement in
working there, but I figured it was at least a job.
I asked this slouch when would I need to come in for an interview. After a short interaction
based on our availability, we agreed on Thursday at 4pm. It was Monday at that time, so I had
a few days to “prepare.” I told my mom about the interview and she told me to make sure that
I dressed very professionally for the interview. I recall saying to my mom that I was
interviewing for a job to sling burgers and fries.
She replied with conviction that “You do not dress for the job you are applying for, you dress
as if you are applying for the manager’s job, that is your outlook and the impression that you
should give.” I thought that can be good and bad, however her advice was well noted. My
thoughts going into the days leading up to the interview and the day of the interview were that
on one hand I will appease my mother’s wishes and wear a suit to the King’s interview and yet
my other thoughts were on the total opposite end.
My mind was constantly stuck on the thought of “Why in the world am I going to were a suit to
get a job where I am going to smell like fries and burgers?” I imagined myself telling my
interviewer asinine things like “Sir I will be the best french fry fryer, burger flipper, onion cutter
that you have ever seen!” “By golly, I will mop the floor to a magnificent shine!” Please…
Wow, what types of stupid shit were they really looking for a high school cat to say? I imagined
the guy asking me a question like, “So, where do you see yourself in five years?” The standard
interview question, yet, coming from Castle King and directed towards a 16-year-old. In my
mind I envisioned answering the question with one part affirmation and one part audacity,
while holding my nuts. I imagined…looking around the restaurant at employees and customers
engaged in mindless activity. Lastly, after taking in a deep breath, I would, explode with a
blunt and obscene, “Ha” just to shock my interviewer and then…continuing with a sheepish
grin…”Muthafucka, I ain’t gone be in this bitch!,” The thought made me laugh to myself in the
days leading up to this interview.
I was not much of a healthy eater in those days, so I frequented many fast food restaurants. I
would see these managers with their white short sleeve shirts, wearing the clip on tie. I
examined the dress slacks, that did not really look the part of dress wear, decorated with
perfectly placed wrinkles, the kind that dry cleaners can never get out, not even under 2000
degrees of iron pressure. I honestly was never impressed with the fast food manager image.
I did like seeing the cute girls who worked there with their uniform pants on.
Of, course my attraction was from 16-year-old eyes, so get your mind out of the gutter.
I did not prepare any special speech and I was not nervous, just very comfortable leading up to
the interview. The day of the interview, my dad gave me a ride there and would come back
when he thought I was done. Before I got out of the car he asked me if I was ready. I smiled
and said “sure no big deal.” He gave me a smile of approval and a fist bump, then I was on my
I walked into Castle King with a confident stride, a fresh Box Fade and wearing crisp grey
dress pants, black dress shoes, white dress shirt and a grey dress coat. No tie. I can honestly
say that I was more handsome than the manger that was going to interview me, I was in better
physical shape and I clearly had a much calmer personality.
When I saw the person who matched the description of a fast food manager, he looked like life
was whooping his ass and beating the back of his neck like a drum. I stayed cool. After the last
customer placed their order, I asked the young lady at the counter if I could speak with Jack
Sharass. “Sure, I’ll get him for you” she said. She was cute, but my mind was on business. I
moved away from the counter a little, in case someone wanted to place an order.
Then…out from the smoke of popping grease and crackling cow flesh, stepped good ole’ Jack.
He told me that he would be back out in about fifteen minutes. He led me to the area were the
interview would take place, where I sat and looked around the restaurant while I waited. I
noticed people constantly coming in and out and then all of a sudden, no customers being in
It is funny how every time that I have gone somewhere for an interview in my life, that the time
which I agreed to be present for an interview, was never the actual time that the interview took
place. These inconsiderate bastards have always had me sitting and waiting, as if my whole
world is going to rise, fall and revolve around a job. As if I never have anything else to do.
While waiting, I decided to entertain myself by looking out of the lobby windows at the
Kentucky Fried Chicken across the street, the Nissan dealership nearby, then the traffic that
passed the restaurant. Before long, I was just gazing out of the windows. After about twenty
minutes of this, Sharass appeared.
He may have been about 6’2’, in his thirties and he clearly had not missed a day without a few
burgers and fries, as his pot belly gave that away. He was a Caucasian guy with brown hair and
a brown wannabe Tom Seleck mustache. The stains on his shirt and the smell of food on his
clothes, spoke to a long day at the kitchen. As he extended his hand in greeting I did the
proper move and shook his hand.
The first thing out of his mouth was one of those cliché interview questions. “So tell me
why would like to work at Castle King?” After feeding him some well-placed bullshit. The
fool smiled and then asked me the next well know question. What type of skills and work ethic
can you offer to Castle King? I remember that while he was asking me these questions, that
he would look down at this paper. It did not take me long to figure out that this slob was
reading questions from a list! “Wow,” I thought, “He cannot ask me some questions off the top
of his head!” I also remembered that he had “THE DRAGON” something terrible aka bad
breath. His breath smelt like a combination of ass, whoppers and coffee , goadddamn!!! I
controlled my urge to laugh and continued with the interview.
As a response to his question, I told him that I had a strong work ethic and a since of personal
responsibility that was instilled in me by my parents, which has been perfected by participating
in organized team sports such as football and track, which I am highly involved in at Butler
High School. “I take pride in making sure that I take care of the responsibilities that I have
been entrusted with, in other words, doing my part for the overall success of the team.” I
sealed the deal with those words and I did not need a paper to read off of. I also was only
partially looking him in the eye, as I was slightly turning my head, for gulps of fresh air.
I felt that I was clearly more intelligent than this person interviewing me, but I was willing to
play along. I mean after all, I wanted some new clothes to carry out my lowly teenaged
ambitions. The next thing I know, the guy offered me the job and wanted to know when could
I start. I told him I could start on Monday afternoon. I figured I would take the job, yet I wanted
to enjoy my weekend and start off fresh with a whole week at my disposal. Plus, I was not
about to start looking desperate.
The whole interview process took about an hour and a half. My dad had gone to run some
errands and just happened to come back right as I was exiting the building. As I entered his ’89
Camaro, I told him I got the job and that I would start working on Monday afternoon. Dad
was happy, when mom found out she was ecstatic along with my younger sister. When my
friends found out about the new job, instantly they mentioned FREE FOOD!!!!
On my first official day as a laborer for CK. My mom and I arranged for her to give me a ride to
Burger King after she got off from her job. I agreed to be there a 5pm and I was there at
4:40pm. I walked towards the entrance wearing my brand new burgundy polo shirt with the
blue collar and sleeve trimming, spruced up with a splash of white and red for added flash. My
blue trousers matched my blue sun visor hat with the “Da King” logo centered in the front. I
wore my shirt and trousers a little loose, but not much, in keeping with b-boy style rules.
Otherwise, the uniform would have been too tight and I was not about to look like that.
I bopped in and noticed another manager was on duty at the time. This guy would prove to be
very two faced in the long run. A true “company man” whose actions, thoughts, speech and
mannerisms were always the best for his own personal gain, his smile and flimsy hand shake
could not hide the fact. “How are you, you must be Jassiri, I was told by Jack that you would
be starting today,” he said.
His name was Tim and he was an African American brother from the Augusta, GA area, who
appeared to be in his late-twenties. He stood about 5’9’ tall and I guess in order to fit the
stereotypical manager type, he had a “pot belly” as well. His manor of speech and diction gave
away a hint of some type of higher educational achievement, however he was not a walking
dictionary. Tim would take the next hour showing me around the kitchen which was manned by
other teenager’s such as myself.
After I clocked in, he first introduced me to Lakisha the cashier. “Lakisha this is Jassiri, Jassiri,
Lakisha.” She smiled this big beautiful smile, “How are you?” she said. “I’m doing good,” I
replied, as I was thinking of how I was going to get her phone number. Tim immediately
introduced me to Stacy who was working the drive through window. She gave me a smile and
polite wave as she was handing an order to a customer. I thought “She’s cute, too.” I was still
sour about not working at the mall, but I saw two reasons to not be so sour anymore.
Next, I was introduced to Rolo who was working the fryer and sandwich board. “What’s up
man,” Rolo asked as we gave each other dap. “I’m good bruh, just trying to learn the place.” I
replied. “Oh, its easy once you get a hang of it, we’ll take care of ya.” Rolo seemed like a cool
brother. I was next introduced to Cody, who was working the burger and chopper board,
we shook hands as young Black men do. “Yo, what up son,” I was caught off guard by his
accent and choice of words. I had to ask,” Where you from man?” “Ah, man I’m from Brooklyn,
NY, a summer vacation ended up being a stay, my mom and pops is wildin’, ya dig,” he
painfully replied. “We’ll get up.” “Cool,” I replied, as he got back to preparing burgers.
Then Tim introduced me to Lamar, who was assisting with the fryer and working the broiler-
toaster, which was the heartbeat of the King. The machine that was constantly churning out
cow flesh for eating enjoyment. Lamar and I dapped each other while he gave me a ”What up,
mane.” “I’m cool man,” I replied. “You’ll start training today on the broiler and fryer with
Lamar,” Tim revealed.
I was then taken to the toaster and special sandwich board where I laughed due to the sight
of one of my friends from high school, cool ass Raymond Lee. We laughed as we dapped each
other up. Raymond and his family were from Korea. Though he was Asian, my being African
American didn’t prevent us from having huge similarities. An equal appreciation for INXS,
Tribe Called Quest, Big Daddy Kane, The D.O.C., jokes and girls bridged the gap across the
so called “racial lines.” “Man, how long have you been working here?” I asked. “This is my
second day.” Raymond replied. “I didn’t want to say anything until I finished my 90 days, you
know” he added. “It’s cool,” I replied. Though Raymond spoke perfectly good English, his
accent tended to show here and there. His accent would hilariously take the spotlight when he
would repeat the rhymes from his favorite song “Smooth Operator” by BDK. Imagine a Korean
man with a heavy native accent rapping “Will excuse me take a few minutes to mellow out..”
“I see you guys know each other…that’s good,” Tim’s phony appreciation of my friendship
didn’t go unnoticed. Tim took me back over to Lamar and Cody for them to show me “the
ropes” on how to use the fryer to cook fries and other items, which did not seem that difficult.
I was also shown how to place chicken nuggets and potato wedges in a fryer next to the first
one I was shown.
Cody’s job mainly was to put sandwiches together, which Lamar helped him do often,
depending on the amount of customers that were ordering. “Man we got ya bruh,” Lamar and
Cody reassured me. “This job is gravy, you feel me?,” Lamar added.
They began to explain the steps of how to take the wire baskets off the fry rack, operate the
lift arm, taking the fries from the fryer and making sure the fries had the right amount of salt,
once they were taken out of the fryer and placed in the fry bagging station or warmer. I
followed Lamar to the freezer after placing a batch of fries in the popping grease. As I walked
off, I watched the results of pressing the red lower button on the fryer and watched the slow
decent of the fries into the grease, to begin their snap, crackle and pop.
Lamar opened the freezer door or should I say the CK safe, were I observed processed food
gold in an iced heaven. Lamar’s first action was to show me the red emergency button inside.
“Emergency button?” I blurted out puzzlingly. “Yeah man, in case the door closes on you or
whatever, you press the red button to get out this muthafucka. Sheeeeeiiiit, if you get stuck in
here, yo ass gon be cold as fuck,” Lamar instructed. I agreed and followed further into the cold
I was shown a box that was stacked on top of several others. From this top box Lamar pulled
out a reasonably sized bag that must have weighed at least 15lbs. “These are the fries and this
is were they are kept.” The brother then showed me were the vegetables or should I say the
only four vegetables, onions, tomatoes, lettuce and pickles were kept. I was shown the location
of the burger patties with the trademark black stripes, “stiffed” chicken nuggets, buns of
various sizes and breakfast items.
Just outside of the freezer as we exited, I was shown the location of various utensils that were
placed in the bags of customers as needed. I was then shown these small rectangular boxes
containing clear bags of brown liquid. “O.K what’s that?” I asked. “That’s the syrup and water
bags, that’s how they make the Pepsi and Coca Cola.” With a look of confusion I said “What!?”
“Yeah man, its crazy and the boxes with clear syrup are used for da Sprite, Orange and Purple
Sodas.” I couldn’t resist making a comment, “People don’t know what their eating and drinking,
but it taste good.” “Yeah and you know you gone’ get a burger, fries and soda the first chance
you get.” Lamar rebuked my short lived health observation, with perfect timing.
My being shown these new things was done so in a hurry, since we needed to get back to the
fries. The fryer would beep several times when the fried side items were done cooking and
rising like Lazarus, from the grease. I spent the next five hours trying my hand at the broiler
and fries section of the kitchen. We would constantly keep moving as the burgers and the buns
would roll off of the broiler and toaster, sometimes so fast that if we didn’t hurry, the product
would fall on the floor.
The longer I worked with Lamar, Cody, Rolo and Raymond that first night in the CK kitchen ,
the more we joked over male, 16 year old, topics. “Why the brothers always calling girls bad?”
“I mean, if you like her, why you calling her bad? Raymond asked, while hooking up special
sandwiches. “Because, if she looks better than any girl you ever seen before, she looking like
she got a spotlight on her, and the only thing you can think to say at that moment, is damn she
bad.” I replied. We all let out a good belly laugh. “Stay focused fellas,” was Tim’s chime in on
our friendly conversation, as he would constantly move from the kitchen to the cashiers
In the process of it all, I couldn’t help but notice that the guys would freely eat a few fries from
the warmer bin, go in the warmer bin where chicken nuggets were kept and eat a few, then
take a chopper or other sandwich throughout the night, go in the freezer and eat it.
So, I eventually had to ask like a true slow poke, “Hey, are we allowed to eat this food?” “Man if
I cook it, I eat it, word,” Cody answered. Lamar shook his head in agreement, “I will tell
you this,” added Lamar, “When we leave for the night, we are allowed to make a sandwich to
take with us, but we gone eat.” I took note of that for later.
The calm and then sudden rush of customers was a regular part of a fast food restaurant. My
first afternoon/night had proven to be successful and I gladly went home to get the smell of
burgers and fries off of me. I worked four evenings a week during May, June and July of the
summer of 1989. I voluntarily arranged my working hours to just weekend eight hour shifts in
August, so I could work around my football games and practice schedule over the next five
As the months went by, I found myself in the month of October, feeling very comfortable
working at Castle King. I reached my original goals of buying at least one pair of dope suede
shell toe Adidas, jeans and a matching shirt once a month. My pockets were fat, so it was
nothing for me to go see a movie, hang out at the mall and go on a date every once in a while.
I was feeling good. But, you know for some reason, as a successful 16 year old doing my thing, I
seemed to begin to draw the displeasure of Tim and Jackass, I mean Jack Sharass. I always came
to work on time, did my job properly, was trained on all stations, and kept my uniform clean. So
what could have been the issue?
My first hint of foolery started not long after one Saturday night of helping to close the store, I
asked Tim if I could take a chopper and fries home with me. I asked him specifically if I had to
pay and he clearly said “no.” That first time occurred in September of ’89. Every other week
after that I would make a chopper and fries for myself and either eat in the actual restaurant
during my short break or take it home without paying. If I ate the “food” in the lobby during a
break Jack or Tim would give me a “screw face” as I sat down taking bites. I couldn’t help but
notice the “funny vibe” they would give me as I clocked in and as I worked. My folk, Raymond,
Cody, Lamar and Rolo all kept treating themselves to food as they worked and I helped myself
We knew how to be discreet and to look out for each other to make sure the “managers” were
not around. Yet, as Halloween was approaching, the “Pot Bellies” in charge called me into the
management office as soon as I came in one Saturday afternoon. “Jassiri how have you been,”
Jack asked as he reached out his hand for a greeting. “I am doing good,” I replied as I shook
his hand and then shook Tim’s hand.
Tim then dropped a gut punch on me followed by an uppercut. “We have noticed that you
have been eating sandwiches and fries very frequently, without paying for them.” My face
contorted and I looked to my left at Jack and then to my right at Tim in the small cramped
manager office. “So watcha sayin?” I asked. “I think that I gave you an opportunity and you
stole from us, that’s what I’m saying, buddy,” Jack replied in an agitated voice. These old idiots
were trying to front on me! I looked directly at Uncle Tim and said “Man, I asked Tim months
ago if I had to pay for the food that I take home or eat on breaks and he said no!” I retorted
angrily. These slouches were trying my patients and calling me a thief and I didn’t appreciate it.
There were no cameras in the kitchen area in those days, so there was no way they saw me or
the other guys eating buffet style anytime we chose. So it wasn’t that.
The next thing I heard was the icing on the cake. “I did not tell Jassiri any such thing, clearly
employees have to pay for the food, according to Castle King policies.” I felt like I had been
punched in the gut.
I looked at Tim with amazement and asked “Are you serious? “I have to steal your stinking
burgers!?” “I asked you a long time ago. If there was a problem then why didn’t you say
something to me months ago?” Jack stepped in to save Tim’s sorry behind. “That’s irrelevant,
you violated store policy and you’re fired.” I looked at those two clowns with shock and I
wanted to hit both of them in the mouth, especially lying Tim. As I began what felt like a long
walk out of the store, my friends were looking at me with shock and gave me a look like they
wanted to say something, but didn’t know what to say and they wanted to keep their gig, so
defending me was not a choice.
As I walked past the broiler, Jackass decided to shame me on the way out. “Everybody watch
your pockets, Jassiri’s a thief and he might take what you got right from under you?” That son
of a bitch was rubbing salt on my firing and enjoying it. I was heated, shocked and I didn’t
bother replying, I just wanted to bounce.
My Dad had just dropped me off at CK thirty minutes earlier, so I had to call for a ride home. I
didn’t dare try to call for a ride from the store. If I would have stayed in there any longer it may
have got ugly. So I walked to the nearest payphone at a gas station down the street. That was a
cold move those chumps played on me, especially Tim. I remember Chuck D from Public
Enemy having a line in one of his raps saying “Every brother ain’t a brother.” I found that out
the hard way, that clown Tim was the worst kind of crab, the kind to smile in your face.
I called my dad from the gas station down the street and he came back to pick me up in a
short period of time. He wasn’t happy about what happened to me, but he didn’t feel that
cursing them out was worth it. “The same way you found that job, you can always find another.
You’re gonna have plenty of jobs before you’re done. That was just your first experience.” My
dad told me as I sat angrily on the passenger side as he drove me home.
My mom wondered why I was home so early and after I told her what happened, she angrily
said “That’s bullshit!” “There is a right way and a wrong way to treat everybody and that wasn’t
right. They tried to embarrass you on the way out? I ought to go down there right now.” My
dad talked her out of it as she had already snatched up her keys. We talked about my
experience at CK as my sister chimed in occasionally. We agreed that I needed to just focus on
school and finish the football and track seasons before looking for a new job.
After cleaning myself up, I was coolin' at my house, still letting that episode at Burger King
marinate. Raymond gave me a call after he got off from CK trying to check on me to see if I
was all right. “What type of grown man hates on a 16 year old?” I asked. I told him I was
pissed, but I was a playa, so I was gonna be straight, besides I got football to think about.
They messed with my paper though, I was planning on coppin’ a hooptie, so I could stop
asking my parents for their ride, but oh well.
I would go on to get a job at a music store at one of the malls in Augusta, GA during the
summer of 1990 and stayed there until June 1991 before heading off to college. All of my
teen aged mall dreams came true! I was laughing at Jack and Tim on the inside every time I
arrived at my mall job. I was still borrowing my parent’s cars but I had plenty of 30% off music
in those cars to ride to.
So as time went on I wasn’t trippin' about C King. My situation was tight. I was still cool with
the guys from CK and my high school friends, while making new friends in college. The
summer of 1992, I was back in town from college for summer vacation. After driving back to
Augusta from Savannah, GA in an 1989 Honda Accord that my aunt Mildred gave me, I went
home hugged my family and dropped my suitcase in my room.
My first action was to called up all the homies so we could hang out. I ended up leaving
messages that I was back in town with whoever was at home or on an answering machine, this
was before social media and cell phones of course. I got a call back from Lamar who
promptly rode out with me to the mall.
Lamar was going to college in South Carolina, so it was good to catch up on old times and the
new happenings. As we were flitting with girls and laughing at each other, while strolling
through the mall, we decided to take a break and find a cookie restaurant. We placed our order
with a young guy working the cash register. “Let us get 10 chocolate chip cookies,” I order
while looking down at the menu on the counter. When I looked up, I caught the shock of a
“Peep game, ain’t that Jack working back there?,” I asked Lamar “Yeah…eh what’s up dusty
Cletus!?” Lamar spotted Jack and called him out on the spot. “I ain’t seen you in a minute! You
look like you S.T. rugglin, my G…what you doing…making cookies? Oh, you the Pillsbury
Dough Man now?” "Wooo hooo!!" I added in joyful expression. Lamar left Castle King on bad
terms also. He didn’t leave as calmly as I did and Jack called the police on him. Luckily, he
didn’t see jail time or violence. So when we saw Jack, we were like two wolves marking our
We could see good old Jack through the small square opening between the cash register and
the kitchen, he could not hide. He had his head down as he was preparing our order. Clearly he
was not at Castle King anymore. Lamar continued to rag him “You traded the crown for a
baker cap?” “Ah yo’ where yo hair net at? Do we need to call the district manager?” I couldn’t
resist, “Make sure them crusty ass hands are clean before you touch my chocolate chips…I’m
gonna need you to hurry up with my order, before I get upset…you feel me?" Lamar and I
laughed hysterically as our knees would buckle and we would fall over on the small counter of
“Cookie Co.” slapping the counter for good measure. Enjoying the fall of Sharass.
“Jackkkkkk…Jack…you better not spit on those cookies…I’m serious…don’t start no trouble
Jack,” I threw a hay maker and then I got him with a jab,” Heeeeeyyy Jack, pull out two of
those 10 dollar food stamps and hook us up for…old…time…sake." “You Big Dummy, your future
is CLOUDY with a chance of PAIN” I got Jack again. Lamar and I kneeled over in laughter
again! We clowned him relentlessly, his face was stop sign red.
There was nothing he could do about it, he was strictly kitchen staff as the managers name and
number was listed in a picture frame on the wall, above the cash register. When I saw that, I
couldn’t stop, I told Jack “Yo, calm down. Take a deep breath and then hold it for about twenty
“Ah, man, you still got “THE DRAGON?” I couldn’t help myself I had to ask. I continued without
mercy, “You mad Cletus? We just jokin’ bruh…come on…bruh. Eh…repeat after me, I…am…
somebody…you busta!” We laughed louder with each insult, holding each other up and falling
over in laughter between each joke. The young guy behind the register was having a hard time
trying not to laugh with us, as he tried to cover his mouth, but the frequent sight of his teeth
and the tears coming from his eyes gave him away. He was enjoying the show!
I made a second order in between trying to catch my breath, ”Let us get 10 almond, chocolate,
caramel cookies.” We received our chocolate chip cookies, but I wasn’t through with Jack. I
had more to get off my chest. I took a bite of the fresh out of the oven cookies and continued
verbally smacking Jackass.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You tried to embarrass me back in the day, I was 16
years old? You see how things change, we on the good foot, fool you on the bad foot, with 2
left feet, looking like a fat ass Barney Fife.” Lamar wanted some, “Man you know that music
they play on the Price is Right when somebody gets the answer wrong?” He pointed at Jack,
“Cletus, yo LIFE is the WRONG ANSWER!” Lamar tapped me on the shoulder,
“J, sing it with me, dumb, dumb, dee-dumb, duuuuuuummmmmmmmmbbbb?”
It was my turn, “How can a grown man get fired from Castle King? What kind of insurance did
you have? A band aid and vaseline? By this time, the young guy behind the counter was falling
over in laughter with us. I let Jack have it again, “Man ya’ll threw away more food than I ate.
Man you are a SINNER…and I’m gone ROAST yo’ ass to HELL!” My stomach was starting to hurt
from laughing at Jack, as I continued. “Boy, Jesus said I can’t do nothin’ with you. Lucifer told
this fool, its hot in here, its hot in here, its hot, its hot, its hot in here!...Man your LIFE needs an
My joke partner and I couldn’t take it any more, our sides were hurting. As we were leaving the
Cookie Co., we noticed that we had drew an amused small crowd. More teeth were on display
from the cheerful rainbow colored crowd. We were so into laughing, that we barely noticed.
We should have passed around a collection plate, from our focused roasting.
It was one of the best summers I ever had in my life and it started with a bang! I never saw Tim
again, but we let Jack have enough for both of them. Myself and the other young guys and
young ladies formally of Castle King ,were at well respected universities trying to figure out
adulthood and this thing called life. Exploring unseen places, taking college road trips,
studying and playing hard, while learning well earned life lessons. While, Jack was making a
new batch of cookies. He caught the VAPORS
The moral of my story, the lesson to be learned is that it does not matter what anybody tries to
do to you, you always have the option to rebound and be successful on your own terms. The
person that you think is on the top may not always be on top and if you are at the bottom, who
said that you have to stay there? The last point is a lot of people allow early life experience to
plague them their whole life. Something that happened at age 16 can still affect a person at
age 50 or older and for many people has done so their entire life. Getting hold of yourself and
being bold enough to check past experiences and bold enough to grab a better way of life is
the only way and no one can do it but you. Don't let a Jackass stop you from being happy!
COPYRIGHT 2018 JASSIRI NASSOR/THE SPIRITUAL SATIRE/ THOUGHT ELEVATION OLA LLC
Shout out to Biz Markie, Big Daddy Kane, The D.O.C, A Tribe Called Quest and Bell Biv DeVoe