Buell Mfg.

Hello Responsible Citizens of This World!

I am pleased to report that today I joined my fellow brethren in supporting the foundations of my country by going to work! I’m sure I changed the world for the better. You may all feel free to feel safer now that I’m around.

I woke up at 5:47am, which was a preposterous notion, and then I went to the gym with my father, however, I seemed to be the only 12-year old boy there. Explanation:

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I seem to have the Beiber hair (and no ears)

When I got to the desk, I asked for a trial pass for the gym.

“Woah-oh-oh. Hold on a sec. Who are you?” said the old bearded man at the table that was haphazardly arranged at the exact point of entrance. I believe I was shocked into brief silence by the directness of the question.

But I should probably take some time to describe this “fitness center”.

Once upon a time an older man and a younger, muscly man decided to open up a gym together! It was a really nice idea and so they ordered like 4 million machines and bought a big, square building. All the machines got delivered to the building, but the older man and the buff man weren’t there, so to while the hours away, the drivers decided to arrange the machines in rows, for fun! By the time the owners got there and saw the rows, everything was so nicely arranged that the owners just said, “Eh, that’ll do. We’ll just pull… well, we’ll get  a table, yeah? And put that here? Yup, sounds good! Let’s get a pizza. We can open this place tomorrow.”

So because the “gym” is pretty casual and very unassuming, it attracts nice, normal people. The people are shy, but very friendly if they engage in conversation. That’s nice. I like that.

Anyway, after I was abruptly asked to state my identity, I automatically just gave my name: Hattie. Apparently that wasn’t helpful enough, for my dad had to explain: “This is my daughter.”

“How old are you?”

Why does he need to know my age? And I knew as I told him that he was going to give me a funny look. “21.”

He laughed. He actually laughed at me. I had to get my driver’s license for him.

Ok, then I made it and I pretended to lift more than 7 lbs on any given machine and I probably overdid myself because now I can’t pick things up off the ground or go upstairs.

Then I went to work. And, not to nix the climax or anything, but I operated one machine for 8 hours! 8 HOURS, my brethren, eight…. hours….open the machine, place the part inside, secure part, close door, press green button, wait 30 seconds, open machine, remove part, repeat.

…And there really isn’t any possible way to make it creative or interesting. I’m sorry. This is where you realize that not only have you been gypped, you’ve just lost about 2-8 minutes (depending on your reading speed) of your life where you could have been watching cat videos or this short gem: http://www.wimp.com/makelaugh/

I got the job done, though. And although I forgot to punch in, I did remember to punch out, and I think I will be getting paid. So yippee-kai-yay!

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