One would think that my glamorous job duties would include dealing with Thurston Howell III types and tightening the laces on my deck shoes.

No such luck.

Today I got to deal with someone I will call Mr. Brightums. He had called me earlier about leasing a space for his boat trailer and came in today on his bicycle. The guy looks and smells like he hasn't shaved in 5 days and if there was an open flame anywhere in the office, the place would have blown up. I always find it's good to be drunk before 10:30 in the morning.

So, Mr. Brightums goes to looks at spaces and comes back. He couldn't figure out how to get out of the storage lot (despite the fact that there's a BRIGHT YELLOW sign at the exit) so he jumped the fence. Mr. Ums cuts his hand on said fence and then proceeds to bleed on my desk and on the paperwork he's signing. He has no state-issued ID and has to show me his "I'm not in the military anymore but still getting vet. services" card instead. I was happy to see that he was riding his bike.

But I was nice and polite. Even when I pointed out he was bleeding on my desk.

After he left I took out the Lysol and sprayed my desk and the air behind the counter. It still smells like booze and stale cigarettes in here.