Reflections after hemmed jeans.

Feelin' alright after a somewhat productive week.

But really folks, this blog ain't about life - it's amount mini-storage.

My responsibilities at the entreposage are less than minimal. In fact, some would even remark that I have none - especially my boss. My duties consist of showing up around 9 am and turning on lights. Sometimes, I don't even have to worry about turning the alarm on/off, if Jeff shows up. Though rest assured, it's always on.

Sunday is homework day, and a day for catching a few friends on fb chat. It's too cold in the office to get all comfer-cozers.

At some point after 1 pm, but before closing time, a man will approach the office counter, often asking for Ibs or some other man who 'should be working'. This man will usually give an indeterminate description, and the profile usually fits a number of the guys who do the demenagements. Asking for the anonymous man never catches me by surprise, though I am often eager to encourage the brief of the sketchy character. The description of the man is generally: tall, Indian, has an accent, nonexistent. All I can do is apologize and state that I have not seen him.

Zoo has been the latest character of interest in my Sunday Beaumont experiences. An Asian, averaged sized man in his mid 50s with an English accent, Zoo bears a poncho-esque top with some sort of polyester bottom. He always has his lime green plush-material cowboy hat with zebra-print trim. The man goes in and out of his locker with half a dozen garbage bags, frazzled and usually wearing a look of confusion. His story is much to involved to describe fully, though his schizophrenic behaviours entice me with every interaction. Whether he is regaling me with an anecdote about his affair with 'Princess Di', or giving me his cheaply printed art with lesbian-mermaid-infused themes, his eccentric disposition reflects the tragedy of people like him, keeping garbage in 50 square-foot lockers for years at a time.

A small girl from a big city takes on miniature spaces.

To whom it may concern:

After my first shift for the week of February 15th 2010, I reflect on the latest news about Sefi (Sephi?).

A tall man with a marginally drunken gait, I see Sefi usually during my Sunday shifts waiting around for something, someone and no one. He is usually without a winter coat in the winter, though wears a generic baseball cap throughout the seasons (backwards) over his dark, dense hair. He smiles constantly at me, greeting me with overwhelming affection at each visit. It is a shame that I work alone on Sundays, as I constantly try to assess his interactions with others.

He works for the moving company who often move customers into their storage lockers, for an extremely affordable rate, yet it is a guarantee that 'your dresser will be damaged'.

Sefi and I have developed a seemingly polite and amicable rapport, though my acknowledgment of his presence could never compare to his over-bearing friendliness. His teeth are shockingly crooked and his skin reminds me of the scene from Grease when Dennis C Stewart is referred to as 'Crater face'.

As Jeff casually drove me home tonight, he informed me about Sefi's latest interaction with the Beau premises. During a routine 'demenagement', the superficially-friendly man (apparently) assaulted a female tenant in the elevator. It may have been his way of welcoming her to the establishment, or he may have had a raging boner. I don't know.

Sefz is apparently banned from the premises, though so are a handful of employees and customers who make regular appearances.

See you Sunday.