The Second in Command at my job really gets off on the arbitrary exorcise of authority. I can understand. If my job was the only place I felt I had control in my life and could take out my frustrations, yeah, I'd dig on it. But, I'm just not that fucked up of a person (yet).
So, the other day, I see there is a gay and lesbian literature end cap (right next to the religion section, which I think is rad) but there is a gap in the fixture. I hit the mic, ask him what he wants me to fill it with and the lispy response, "Something gay or lesbian" pulses through my right ear.
I pick up a Rimbaud book and fill the gap only to hear, "Why did you put THAT on the end cap?"
I calmly responded, "Well, Rimbaud was gay. Oh and he has way more significant than the Dorm Porn trilogy you put up, ya know, since he inspired the Beats and Patti Smith and Lou Reed which started the last true rock n roll revolution."
He didn't respond. And this is probably why I'm full time and get 24 hours this week. Now, if he knew the singer for Pansy Division hit on me in front of Saint Semen, he might shut the fuck up and recognize my awesomeness.