Work story time! The mouse speaks....

I realized that my first job experience was pretty unique. I've told the stories to my friends before and it has always been entertaining but maybe it's time to share the same stories with internet strangers to entertain them as well. Plus, I've always enjoyed work story posts so I thought I'd share one of my own (and, oh boy, I have had MANY interesting jobs) First of all, read the tags and forgive any typos, ramblings, or dumb shit....please and thank you.

Front page edit:
So glad you guys enjoyed my childhood trauma....how cathartic! For real, I've had good laughs reading your comments and similar experiences. I had other tags on here that revealed i was drinking when i wrote this so that explains the typos. And this slide was supposed to be last but alas....so I'll do FPE here. You guys are awesome!

I hope you enjoyed my work stories! I'd tell you more but I have my own kids now that I have to put to bed. Stay classy, San Diego! Be excellent to each other!

So yeah, this was pretty much it. Not exactly, but, you get the idea. A hot, sweaty mess of an outfit. But...how did I get there????

I was 16 and needed a "first" job. My older brother had worked there and, being the workhorse that he was, offered me a good reference. Needless to say, I got the job! Excitement abounds! I loved CEC growing up and wanted to play my part. It was circa 1992 so minimum wage was $4.25/hour so.....that's what I got. So shitty. Started in the kitchen washing dishes. Thankless work really. Hot, sweaty, nasty work. Before you ask, yes, I did eat pizza off the trays before I sent them through the washer. Don't judge me. I was a growing boy and that shit was just laying there. Am I ashamed? No. You should be ashamed for judging me. Anyway...boring stuff so far.....

EVERYONE remembers that CEC party room. It's where the magic happened. That's where the action was. I had to go bus tables out there occasionally because I was a grunt in the place....whatever. But I always noticed how shitty the people in the Chuck E. costumes were. No enthusiasm, no verve, dead persons walking. Just going through the motions. I always thought "man, these people suck. I'd kill that shit" Now you must understand, I grew up as a cut-up. Always entertaining others. Actually, I eventually made a long career as a front man in a band that travelled ALL over the country. But that's neither here nor there. Let's just say that I understood entertainment. And these people sucked at it. Always figured that I could do better.

Then it happened. One day someone didn't show up for their "Chuck E. Live" shift. Why would they? Fucking $4.25/hour. Management was shitting themselves. They were all running around like chickens with their heads cut off because it was a Saturday and the place was packed with bratty kids and drunk parents. NO CHUCKIE. I stepped in and said " I can do that...no big deal" Funny thing was, management replied "bUt YoU hAvEn't wAtCheD tHe cHucK e lIvE tRaiNiNg vIdeO yEt!!!!" I replied, " I think I'll be fine" With no other recourse, they had to let me do it. So yeah, I killed it. Mony Mony was the song. Jump up turn around....man the shit is not hard! Many pats on the back. Plus, I got a break from washing dishes so I was happy as fuck.

So I was officially added to the roster. Fucking management made me watch the dumbass Chuck E. Live video afterward because.....management. 2 shows per hour from then on and they loved it. Now to the good stuff.....

The costume was fucking disgusting! Multiple people wearing it, over and over, every day of the week and all it got was a quick douse of Lysol in the head after each show. It smelled like sweat, pizza, and death. I would gag every time I put it on but...the show must go on or something. Just remember, I was going from a hot, sweaty kitchen washing dishes to putting that on then back again multiple times a day. And so was everyone else. Barf.

Probably my favorite story.....so one Saturday the place was PACKED! Chuck E. Live going on as usual. Party room filled to the brim. You couldn't move in that place. To understand, Chuck E. always had to have an escort when he was out. 1. because you can't see shit in that costume 2. to keep the kids from mob-murdering you 3. to escort you back to the kitchen through the pizza-and-coke fueled carnage that was the party room. A simple chaperone. Well, one day, I did not have a chaperone. I trudged my way to the front of the party room, the music started, and I FUCKING SLAYED IT! I whipped those little shits into a wild frenzy. It's a gift I have, you must understand. Unfortunately, it backfired because of the aforementioned lack of an escort. As I tried to head back to the kitchen to resume my basely duties, I was surrounded by sugar-jacked children trying to talk to and touch me. With no one stepping in on my behalf, the children quickly overcame me. All I felt was kids grabbing me, kicking me, punching me, hanging off my nose, basically about to tackle and kill me while not a soul stepped in to intervene. Somehow, I worked my way upright, threw up my hands in a plea for help and all I saw was gleeful parents taking pictures. That's when I kicked it in ghetto gear and saved myself. I took my big mouse foot and raked it across a line of shit bastard kids in front of me, knocking them all down like bowling pins. Then I turned quickly and flung children off my back from the momentum of the turn. Like a tank, I blasted my way through the rest of the party room trying to reach the safety of my dishwasher. As I left the room I heard a phrase I'll never forget. Some dad yelled "Oh shit! Chuckie's pissed!" You're damn right he is you non-intervening shit ass! I can hear his voice plain as day right now. Management tried to yell at me for assaulting children but I put that to rest by pointing out that none of it would've happened had I had an escort. There were no more arguments after that.

You have no power here!

Sometimes I would game the system and cheat a bit while in costume. After a Chuck E. Live show, I would head to the arcade and play skee-ball on little kids' tokens. I'd just walk up to the game, look at a kid, point to the slot, and they would pump a token in and load me a rack of balls. (huh, rack of balls) I'd play until my rat-heart was content. I'd occasionally glance over and see management standing behind me with arms crossed and pissed but....who cares?! They could not do a GOD DAMN thing. Who is gonna pull Chuckie away from the kids?! I'd always get an earful after. This was a part I rather enjoyed. Lucky for me, I was really good at that the LIVE shows so they were backed into a corner.

Some of the many questions I'd hear in the outfit and how I wish I could've answered....

A big rule while in the costume is that CHUCK E CHEESE IS NOT ALLOWED TO SPEAK. Go on, next time you go there try and get him to speak....he won't. They'll beat you in the back room if you do. I'm totally serious. So hear are common questions I'd hear and how I wanted to respond but couldn't:

Are you a rat or a mouse? - I have no fucking clue, kid
Why don't you have a tail? - Because you little shits would rip it off in a heartbeat if given the chance
Do you like pizza? - Yeah bitch! I love pizza! And I'm gonna eat your leftover pizza in the dishwashing room when you leave it behind later.
Can I have a hug? - You betcha, little fucker!
Why does my dad beat me with jumper cables? - ...........
I love you Chuck E. Cheese, will you be my friend? - You're damn right, little person. I'll always be here!