Melvin The Mormon, Part Two

My previous post is part one. I could link to it, but you’re smart enough to figure out how to get there from here. We left the story with Melvin The Mormon loaning me some of the money he’d stolen from me so I could get by until the next payday.

The only disagreement Amethyst and I had in those days was over the gaggle of goofballs who were constant hangers-on, our entourage of losers who were only absent if they somehow came into money of their own. Melvin was the most constant and the least likely to ever have money of his own. I bagged the son of a bitch one night while we were out playing pinball, which usually always included my handing out the money to everyone, five bucks a head and when it runs out shut the fuck up. Amethyst and I could play the same machine all damn night on fifty cents, so I figured the rest could either learn to do the same or walk home when the boredom became unbearable. I didn’t want them around us anyway. Melvin, audacious little prick that he was, hit me up for more money after his five bucks ran out because it was really, really boring just hanging around watching Amethyst and me play. Then it hit me: The son of a bitch had money. I’d seen it earlier in the day. “So where’s that money I saw in your wallet this afternoon?”, I asked. “I’m saving that for smokes”, he said.

“So, let me get this straight. I’m supposed to give you money that I worked hard to earn so you can play pinball, because you want to spend the money you’ve got on cigarettes?”. “Well, yeah…”. “And what”, I asked while poking his shirt pocket, “is that right there in your pocket?”. “A pack of smokes”. “Yeah? A pack of smokes. And where did you get that pack of smokes?”. “Uh, you gave it to me”. “When you had money in your fucking pocket, I bought your cigarettes and your pinball?”. “Uh, yeah”. “It’s a long walk home, man, and you’d better get started so you won’t be late again”. 

He walked out, and Amethyst’s very expressive face told me she was displeased by my righteous assholery. She explained that I was right to be pissed off, but it was harsh to make the audacious little prick walk five miles home. I told her not to sweat it because he’d be back in a few minutes. And he was, too.

Later on, when I had an opening at the gas station I managed, I was having no luck finding an applicant whose references checked out so I hired Melvin. He didn’t really want that or any other job, but I told him that I was kicking him off the tit. Amethyst’s mother might pay to keep him fed on tasty snacks, but he would never get another nickel or another cigarette from me. Amethyst might not dig it, but the line was drawn and that was that. I didn’t really want to hire the clown but it made good economic sense.

Two or three months later I arrived one morning to find that the roll-up door in front of the vending machines was unlocked. The door from the garage into the front office was also unlocked. And, sure enough, the safe was unlocked, too. Melvin had set the place up to be burglarized. Son of a bitch! When he came in to work his swing shift I made like nuthin’ was nuthin’ and just watched the bastard sweat while I did my paperwork. When I was done I called him into the back office, asked him to close the door, and then sprung from my chair and stuck his ass to the wall. I told him that the only way he wasn’t leaving that office on a stretcher was to come completely clean with me all in one go and without making me work it out of him.

Sure enough, some criminal piece of shit we both knew and whom I’d eased out of my life had told Melvin that he’d be beaten up if he didn’t set that up, but recipient of half of the proceeds if he did. Okay, Melvin, you’re unemployed now but walking out under your own power, and fuck you for making me work double shifts until I can find your replacement.

I didn’t get off the hook that easy. Stay tuned.



8 thoughts on “Melvin The Mormon, Part Two

      1. LAMarcom

        Yes. Yes Yes Indeed!
        But what about a blind, drunk Texan with a hint of Comanche blood?
        Ever think ’bout that.
        Okay, I read all, now I must go back and read chap one: not my usual way of doing biz, but for you?
        Hell yeah.
        (the story deserves a revisit anyhow)


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