Remember my coworker that I affectionately refer to as Pink Panties, due to his tendency to get his panties in a wad over every little thing? It would appear that his problems are more serious than I realized.
If he is to be believed, he’s had quite the run of bad luck. He’s had a couple major dental issues recently, including a current one that prompted this post. He’s in a custody fight for his daughter. As part of that, he has no bank account. He has convinced FaucetCompany to FedEx him live checks every week in exception to the mandatory direct deposit rule.
He claims to have his money in gift cards, but he always seems to be hitting people up for cash. Whether it is five dollars for lunch or thirty-five for a prescription, it’s a common occurrence. So common, in fact, that not only has he lost any shame that he may have once had, but he won’t hesitate to badger one relentlessly if they decline to help him.
I have loaned him money a few times, despite my better judgment. You see, I have a hard time saying no. Even to people I’m not all that fond of. Two weeks ago, I loaned him $35, supposedly for a prescription. He paid me back on payday, which is Thursday. By last Tuesday, he was out of money again, and he wheedled me out of $20.
On Saturday, he dutifully repaid me. Last night, he started calling me two hours before I was scheduled to start my shift. I honestly missed the first couple calls, since I turn the ringer off when I go to bed. He called every five to ten minutes for an hour and a half. This is a sure sign that he wants money.
I moved what little cash I had to a hidden area of my wallet, and waited until I was at work to “realize” that my ringer was still off, and that I had missed his calls. I probably shouldn’t have responded at all, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He was already at work, waiting for me. I guess I’ve said yes a little too often, so he made the drive, assuming that I would probably do so again.
As expected, after the initial greeting, he asked for money. I feigned ignorance of what was in my wallet, and opened it in a way that he could see the empty bill compartment. I hadn’t yet clocked in, but it was too close to my shift start time to leave and go to an ATM. Sorry, man. I can’t help you.
Did I mention that he reeked of booze?
That’s when the sob stories started.
I lost the cap on my tooth last week, but my dentist can’t see me until Thursday. It’s infected, and I am in so much pain. I have this prescription for pain medicine…
It’s 2250 at this point. MyHometown has few if any true 24-hour pharmacies. I pointed this out to PP. He mumbled something about buying something off the street. Then he mentioned the pharmaceutical use of alcohol. Sorry, man. As you saw, I don’t have any cash. I don’t have time to go to an ATM before I have to clock in. Maybe I can hit an ATM after my shift, but that’s the best I can do.
But it hurts so bad. What do you suggest that I do? I need something tonight. Can you clock in and then go somewhere and get some cash?
I don’t fucking think so. No, I’m not comfortable doing that.
Can you loan me your ATM card? I swear I will bring it right back with the receipt and everything.
Have you completely and totally taken leave of your senses? There is no fucking way that I am going to give my debit card and PIN to a drunk, annoying coworker. No, I can’t do that.
This went on for a while. He followed me to the time clock and up onto my machine, begging the entire time. After I refused to give in, he started pestering everyone else in the building that he knew.
Finally, one guy put the fear of God in him with this statement, and he left:
How can you come up in here, drunk off your ass, asking people for money? I smelled you twenty feet away. If the wrong person notices, they will walk you the fuck up out of here, whether you are on the clock or not.
Two people came up to me later, asking about him. According to both of them, he admitted wanting the money to buy booze. For medicinal purposes, of course.