Parking Lot Freak-Out

Man, tonight at work really beat me down. Nothing but busted box after busted box to repair. I need a drink, bad.

Meth was ready to bail out by the time I had put all my tools back in the cabinet and locked them up. We've had nothing but squabbles between our dayshift and swingshift crews over petty mundane shit like stolen ball point pens and torque wrenches so Gary and I decided to get a cabinet with a lock. We both have our own key and at the end of each shift we secure our shit. As a result neither one of us has had a problem with missing items. Anyway, Meth and I grabbed our stuff and began the walk through our building to the parking lot.

We weren't really paying attention to anything. As usual Meth was running off at the mouth about what I didn't know or care. Both of us walked down through the staircase leading to the east side of building one lower. Just as we made the final left turn and walked through double automatic doors into the night air, we both saw Screw Murderer. She was walking in the same direction we were out to the employee parking area in front of building one's lobby carrying her lunchbox and a coat. I'd say she was maybe fourty feet ahead of us. I guess she heard noises from the automatic doors closing behind the two of us and decided to look over her shoulder back in our direction. That's when she freaked out. Screw Murderer screamed. Then she bolted at top speed through the company car parking area. I couldn't believe it. I mean, I don't think I have ever seen a fifty year old Vietnamese woman run that fast. Ever.

Meth and I looked at each other like, what the fuck was THAT about. He hasn't been in any trouble with her since Mr. Mo and him hassled her months ago about eating meat. And I've never had any problems with Screw Murderer. Not personally anyway. In fact, for some strange reason when she talks to me she refers to me as a "good boy" all the time. Whatever. Neither one of us yelled at her or said a damn thing. We didn't make obnoxious faces at her or perform any obscene gestures. We didn't do anything to her. Yet there she was, running for her life in terror away from two electronics geeks.

It just so happened that when we arrived at Meth's car, Screw Murderer was sitting in the back seat of her husband's four door sedan right next to where we were. She didn't look at us even though I'm certain she knew we were there. Her husband seemed oblivious to the fact that his wife just sprinted close to a hundred yards to get away from us. Such a strange thing to see. Meth and I chuckled about it as her husband started the car and they pulled away. Their marriage is so old school that it's kinda sick. Screw Murderer doesn't get to keep any of her pay. Instead it all goes to her husband and he manages every last dollar they have. If we're planning a production line function at a restaurant or something, she has to go ask him for permission to attend and beg for the money. Also, he doesn't allow her to sit in the front seat of their car with him. She has to sit in the back seat no matter what.

Meth lit up a cigarette and told me he had to stop in town for gasoline before we headed to my house. That was cool, I was going to give him some loot for gas anyway. We passed through the front perimeter gate to the factory and made a left to head into town. Two blocks after that we made another left hand turn and ended up smack dab on Screw Murderer's tail. To make matters worse, every turn they made, we followed. I figured she had to be going apeshit in the back seat because she knew what Meth's car looked like. I said, "Dude. This isn't good. If she's completely lost it and going to say something to management tomorrow, like we harassed her, maybe it would be a good idea to at least drive over to the station another way?" Meth looked at me and laughed. "Fuck her." He didn't seem to care.