Woot® : One Day, One Deal™

Boy, this place is dead.

And talk about your creepy clientele. Everyone who comes through here has some kind of a sob story. You think I want to listen to people wailing their regrets all day? Because I don’t.

I should have stayed in obedience school. I could have been a police dog, or maybe gotten a job herding sheep or something. But no, somehow I got this bright idea in my heads that I should be a doorman. I pictured myself working a nice joint though, like Valhalla, Swarga Loka, or someplace like that. But no. I get a job at the Greek Underworld. Neuter me.

Occasionally we get someone trying to sneak back out through the ropes unauthorized. So that provides some excitement. But usually I just feel bad for the schmucks. Of course they beg and plead. It’s embarrassing. I always tell ‘em I don’t make the rules; I just work here, but still they moan.

I’m telling you, man, it’s Hell down here. There’s zero workplace camaraderie. And I never get a day off. They got me working like a three-headed dog. You know what that’s like?

It’s RUFF, RUFF, RUFF, that’s what it’s like.

Wear this shirt: with two extra neck-holes cut in the shoulders, if necessary.

Don’t wear this shirt: if you’re an actual dog. Dogs in clothes are undignified.

This shirt tells the world: “I performed a dozen impossible labors and all I got was this crappy t-shirt. Oh, and immortality.”

We call this color: Charon, One-Man Navy On The Styx