The last person I worked with who had a goatee was a young man named Jarid who not only had a single ear but also left town about a year ago with a girl who worked at a prosthetics factory.
But those weren’t the only things that made Jarid awesome. Most importantly, he was an artist.
No one should try to understand his art, however, before they understand him as a person.
Jarid was an assistant manager. He began combing his hair forward, rather than back into a spike, when he got that promotion.
Jarid bought a brand new periwinkle PT Cruiser when he moved west. He twirled his keys in the air when he walked into work.
Jarid liked to reference and quote television shows. He once took a short vacation to watch a Friends marathon.
But that is not enough to know the man that I knew. Please look at his MySpace page.
Jarid’s page quote: “Unemployment is like sex, it’s only worth it if you get paid at the end.”
Jarid’s favorite music: “Whatever sticks in my head. Everything from rock and Hip-hop to country and pop. Currently in my CD player is The new Chili Peppers.”
Jarid’s favorite television: “Two and a Half Men, Scrubs and South Park are the staples with dashes of the Simpsons and Family Guy on occasion.”
Jarid’s favorite books: “Too many to name. I am working my way through Ken Follet’s newest offering with Clive Cussler on deck.”
Good choice.
Graciously, Jarid also has a few pictures for us on his page including: him with sunglasses on, him under some dramatic light, him looking official and him drinking a beer and giving the middle finger (Jarid!).
Now gaze at the man behind the mask. Jarid wrote a hilarious column for the newspaper. It was called “Party of One.” Thankfully, he has archived some of these columns on his page.
Here is one of my favorites. In “A Study in the Obvious … with a Side of Egg Rolls,” Jarid talks about how he isn’t fat anymore but still struggles with his weight:
I guess I should begin this week’s cute little rant by stating for the record that I am in fact a recovering fat kid. Not like all the way recovered, but working my way through the steps.
For the record, step four, “Make a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves,” is a real pain in the ass.
Even though I say “recovering,” please don’t take that to mean I would use words like “skinny” or “attractive” or “worthwhile” to describe myself, it simply means the scale only spins three revolutions when I step on it.
However, this is an improvement I assure you. I used to be really fat – like people would avoid being confined in small spaces (like elevators) with me for fear we would be trapped and I would try to eat them.
Jarid, or as my friend used to call him — J-Rod, goes on to lampoon a study that says overweight people eat a lot more at buffets than non-overweight people. J-Rod’s reaction to the study:
Ok first off – DUH!
In “The Obituary for Customer Service,” he laments the replacement of employees with machines, turning his razor-sharp wit on the all-too-common incompetence of grocery store workers.
J-Rod:
Alrighty, so I went to cooler with the expensive cheeses and got the Bruschetta. Now for the bread crumbs. Having no idea where bread crumbs might be (are they with the croutons? Are they with the bread? Maybe with the bird feed, I don’t know.) I see a somewhat normal looking employee stocking the cooler next to where I was standing.
“Excuse me,” I ask politely and totally prepared to act naively about my bread crumbs.
Nothing. He continues stocking. Ok, maybe he didn’t hear me, I do have a very quiet voice … sometimes.
“Uh, hum. Excuse me,” I say staring right at him.
Nothing. Ok, I know he heard me because the woman three feet past him heard me and turned to look but he is still stocking.
Now, I’m pissed.
“Umm, excuse me, “I said while tapping him on the shoulder.
He suddenly jerks his head to look right at me and says, “I’m busy, ask someone else.”
And the winner for customer service provider of the year is …
Uh … yeah. Tell me about it!
But don’t think J-Rod isn’t just as hard on himself. Oh, he is. In, “Rest in Peace Summer, You Won’t be Missed,” he turns his observations inward. As you will see, he has quite the eye for relevant and appropriate popular cultural references:
Now don’t get me wrong, I love summer. Summer means skimpy outfits and outdoor beer gardens and explosives disguised as “patriotic devices,” but I’m so very happy that it, like Madonna’s career, has officially begun its slow march of death.
Bring on Fall, take summer out back and finish it off like Barbaro.
Hurrah for Fall, when the temperature finally loosens its grip after four long months of bending us over and sticking that sweat rod called humidity in our fudge-icicle maker.
As a fat guy, there is nothing worse than the summer, because you sweat when you do anything.
And I mean anything.
Take out the trash – and it smells better than you.
Peel an orange with your hands – it tastes like salty butt.
Walk to the bank at the end of the block – die of dehydration.
J-Rod!
Also, be sure to take to the time to read the other nut-tugging pieces of humor he has on his site including “I Give You, the Magnet for Crazy” and “One Man’s Trash is Another Man’s Juicy Tidbit.”
Ah, it’s funny because it’s true.
Thanks for the years, J-Rod.
