Work Stories: Episode 40: Moondance

Previously on Work Stories, I ranted about a rude man that came to the museum that I work at.  I used the Work Story as a release for the anger that was bubbling up inside of me.  I’m sorry for pushing that upon you, my readers, but at the same time, I’m not sorry at all.  It got some of the fury out of me and that was a good thing.  It went onto you, and I hope that some of you were understanding in what I was going through.  This week won’t be a rant.  Don’t you worry your little (or big), tight (or not so tight) bottoms this week because I’ve got something for you that will maybe blow your socks off.

This is episode 40 of the Work Stories, and that means that I’m going to give you a story about when I worked at the New Year’s Eve concerts in my hometown of Niagara Falls.  I’ve been doing these at intervals of 10.  If you hadn’t noticed that with episodes 10, 20, and 30, you know now.  That’s because I just told you.  This is another concert tale.  I hope you enjoy it.

The difficult part of this week’s Work Story is breaking into it.  I’m not sure exactly where to begin.  I might as well begin the night before we were all told about what had happened.  No.  I’ll begin with a background of the workers, then give details about the night, and then what got told to everyone the next day.  Names will be changed to hide the identities of some of the people involved.  That way, if they remember who I am, they won’t stumble upon this and remember this story.  Hehe.  I’m sneaky.

There were three sets of workers within the concerts, excluding performers.  The first were the parks commission people that were holding the concert.  This makes sense since the concert takes place in one of the Niagara parks, so the parks people should be the ones in charge.  They are pretty much the managers of the thing.  Then there are the concert workers that are specifically hired for their expertise in running concerts.  These are the laborers who build the stage, the lighting towers, put up the lights and sound equipment, and make sure everything works.  Then there are the volunteers, like me, who are high school kids trying to get their volunteer experience up.  We basically do the same stuff as the laborers, but the laborers oversee and make sure we do things properly.

Chris was one of the laborers.  After work one night, he went to the bar to pick up a woman for a quick sexual encounter.  That night he scored big.  At least, according to what he told us the next day, he scored big.  It was some of the best sex that he had ever experienced.  The woman was so dirty, and she would do anything that he wanted to do.  She would even swallow.  He had the best night of his life with the woman and would gladly get with her again.

We listened to his tale of debauchery, even though none of us were interested.  Chris wasn’t a good looking guy.  Nobody wanted to picture what he was doing behind closed doors.  It probably would have caused a sickness that would shut down work for the entire day.  Nobody was thinking too much about it until we looked at another coworker, Tony, sitting silently in the corner.  He was sulking.  The reason for the sulking was that the woman who Chris had just told his story about was a woman that Tony knew.  Tony knew her real well.  It was Tony’s mother.  Chris had had rough sex with Tony’s mother and was now telling the rest of us about it in front of Tony.

This all occurred about two days into a two week period of working together.  For the remaining twelve days of work, Chris would continually make jokes to Tony and harass him about what had happened.  Nobody would do anything about it, however, because we all quickly learned that Chris was insane.  We were afraid of Chris.  So we put up with him.  A lot of us made sure not to work with him.  We went and built the lighting tower and worked on the lighting equipment instead.  At least, that’s what I did.

That’s the end of the Work Story for this week.  I think it turned out fairly well.  It’s not a disaster like I’ve felt that so many of the past Work Stories have been.  What will I write about next week?  I don’t know and I probably won’t until next Friday.

Until then, as you wish.