Prefatory Note: the following are stories I made up out of whole cloth, just like last week. Again, the names and places have been changed to protect the innocent and anyone else I think doesn’t need a good cancelling.

THREE

The twins’ mother drops them off at 10 am before the shit hit the fan.

“They’re your problem for the rest of the week,” she said with a smile as she pushed them into my house with their miniature suitcases before riding off in a Camaro with her current boy toy, Todd.

Todd’s an idiot who runs the local Planet Fitness. I’m sure there’s several things the two of them are doing besides discussing form at the squat rack or debating the benefits of red light sauna therapy, but that’s not my problem anymore.

I bring my kids in and get them set up with Disney Plus while I figure out what I’m going to do for my runs tonight.

What ended up working out was the two of them coming with me on my deliveries. Talk about unexpected bonuses, but I got a $50 and a $99 tip while I had my two rugrats in the back of my car. I guess being a single dad can work in your advantage after all.

Only issue is when they go back to their mom’s, I lose the ability to use their cherubic faces for my fiscal gain. I think I have this licked though.

I still have their car seats from when they were infants. My daughter has two very lifelike baby dolls that will fit in them nicely. Next time they’re not here and I have to deliver groceries or food, I’ll put those in and see what I get.

Am I being an asshole? Maybe. I prefer the term “professional opportunist.”

FOUR

The snow started around eleven AM and got really bad around 5 pm.

We don’t really see snow too often, so when I heard there was a possibility of snow I discounted it. Most of these forecasts tend to be real chicken little things where everyone freaks out over a dusting.

This time was the exception. Snowflakes piled up in wet masses until the roads were packed with so much white crap I didn’t even make it up the hill to my house.

I pulled my SUV into a wonderful neighbor’s driveway and make my kids walk the last 350 feet to my house. The snow’s coming down hard now.

You can tell when snow’s really bad by two metrics.

The first, surprisingly, is when Waffle House closes for inclement weather. You would never guess it but if your local Waffle House closes, you’re in for a world of shit. They have protocols ready for anything short of a nuclear blast to still open. Waffle House goes hard.

Second is the delivery apps. These fuckers have such hard ons for capitalism they never shut down unless the weather makes it a matter of life and death if any unlucky sap decides to go out in it attempting to make money.

Imagine how much I cursed when my phone dinged with a text from both apps I use.

“Due to severe weather we are temporarily suspending operations until further notice.”

Well, fuck. There goes my revenue stream.

FIVE

I have not made money in two days and it’s driving me nuts.

I have not smoked weed in two days either because of a stupid parenting plan I had to sign with my children’s mother and it’s really sucky. I’m going through my edibles stash like crazy.

The delivery apps haven’t turned on service since we got snowed in. It was the worst snow in ten years.

People need their pizzas and bagels with honey walnut spread. They need their six cases of Gatorade. And I need to make some money. I need beer. And some skunk-ass weed.

These are the times that try men’s souls.

SIX

Grocery day. This is when I go out on Sundays and do grocery deliveries for people.

Sundays are a really good time to do grocery orders if you’re feeling froggy enough. These are days when your Costco and Sam’s Club addicts are more than willing to pass off their shopping lists to you and when you can make some money.

The problem with this is you run into the church crowds that are done listening to their pastors and want to browse aisles for the best deals.

I hate this. It cuts into my profit margin. But I have to deal with it if I’m going to get my $50-$60 orders. It’s what you do when you are not ashamed to make money.

Recently, I started hanging a sign from my shopping carts. It says “Stay In Your Lane, Dumbass!” and features a bright red arrow pointing away from my cart.

I don’t think this is appropriate for the customer relations side of my delivery app. We’re supposed to be paragons of virtue and wonderful to everyone.

But my sign is about two inches thick and solid walnut.

I’m totally braining someone with it if they dare to fuck with me.