Workingman's Blues

By B.A. Daniels

Workingman's Blues short story collection is about...well the workingman. However, this collection of workingmen is far from ordinary. They manage to get into situations that you wouldn't imagine. This collection of stories is sometimes thrilling and sometimes funny, but they are always entertaining.

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.A. Daniels
• Release date: Mar 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781386378730

B.A. Daniels

I love to write and have written short stories for as long as I can remember. However, it wasn't until a few years back that I decided to publish my stories. My writing has always been one of my main creative outlets, and I find that I enjoy sharing my stories almost as much as I like writing them. My first novel, Deception Game, came out in 2013. I have always been fascinated by anything that was police procedural, including TV shows and books. So, my first novel was a police procedural. My wife and I of 25 years make our home in the Pineywoods of East Texas. We have two grown children. It is my sincere hope that you get as much enjoyment from reading my books as I do in their creation.

Book preview

Be Careful What You Wish For

Dave Crandall pulled into Mo’s Mini Mart, like he had done every day for the past 10 years. He turned off his truck, but it always took another two minutes for the engine to actually spit and sputter to a stop. Walking into the store he saw Rosie behind the counter. She had been here for as long as he had been coming in. Maybe the store had been built around her. As usual, he went straight back to the cooler for a case of Natural Light, then back to the check out.

Hey Dave, you want your lottery tickets too? she said in the thickest New Jersey accent he’d ever heard, even though they were in Texas.

It’s Friday sweetie, five quick picks. When I win I am going to take you away from all this.

You’re such a flirt Dave Crandall.

Dave climbed back into his truck and threw the Natural Light on the passenger seat, his date for the night. The ritual of cranking the ancient truck came next, which normally lasted the same two minutes that it took for it to die.

The truck sputtered to a stop in the parking lot of his apartment building. With the beer under one arm and the lotto tickets in his front pocket, he kicked the door of his pickup shut. His next door neighbor, Mrs. Swanson, was sitting in front of her apartment in a lawn chair chain-smoking. The woman did not believe in bras and he had never seen her in anything but a house dress. He gave her a quick wave as he entered his apartment. Actually, apartment was a gross overstatement, it was really one room. He could sit in the recliner, which he had saved from a street corner, and see the whole place. It was affordable though, and Dave was all about affordable.

He pulled his boots off as he fell into the chair and picked the remote up at the same time. The beer was to the left of the chair. Dave reached down with his left hand and ripped the top off the case and fished out the first beer. He clicked the TV on to Friday night wrestling. Beer after beer disappeared until he hit the bottom and passed out.

The sunlight came through the blinds and hit Dave in the eye. He groaned as he sat up in the chair. He would be late to work...again. Jerry would be on his ass sure as shit. He got up, kicking cans out of his way and walked the three steps to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. Making his way back to the living room he slipped his boots back on, picked up his keys, and stepped outside. Locking the door behind him, there was Mrs. Swanson starting her first pack of the day.

Walking into the dispatch office with his sunglasses on, he saw Jerry at the desk. Dave sighed; all he wanted was to get his dispatch, do his loads, and go home.

Crandall, where the hell you been?

Car trouble.

That’s a load of crap. I should fire your ass.

If that’s the plan let’s do it before I pre-trip my truck.

Smart ass, Jerry mumbled as he continued the solitaire game on his computer.

The last thing Dave was worried about was getting fired. No self-respecting driver would have this job. So, what they got were felons, guys that could barely pass a drug test, and drunks like him. Jerry was one tick smarter than your average rock, so he got to be the supervisor. Since it was Saturday he only had two loads from the transfer station to the Brazoria County landfill. That’s right. Houston was so full of garbage they had to contract another landfill to take the overflow. So, five days a week Dave went back and forth four times and on Saturday two trips. For this he raked in about $300 a week after taxes.

Around five p.m. Dave finally rolled in. Everyone else was already on the yard. He was supposed to fuel the truck before parking it, but he never did what he was supposed to do. Why start now?

After finally getting the truck fired up he headed to the convenience store. Today would be an exact copy of yesterday, with the exception of the lottery tickets.

The drawing was tonight. Dave always wished he would win, and every Monday he was back in the truck hauling garbage. Man, he would live the life if he could get his hands on that money. He wasn’t even greedy; he would even settle for the three-million-dollar prize.

On the way home, a case of Natural Light in the passenger seat, he swung through the Burger King drive-thru and got a Whopper, fries, and Coke meal deal. Now he was on the sidewalk to his apartment with the beer under one arm, the burger sack and Coke in the other hand. There was Mrs. Swanson on her third or fourth pack of the day. Dave wondered if she even went to the bathroom during the day.

Once in the apartment the routine would be same. Kick the boots off, fall into the recliner, and grab the remote, beer on the left. Dave took one look at the Coke, chuckled, and tossed it in the trash. Who was he trying to kid? He ripped the top off the case and cracked open the first beer.

Dave was 14 beers into the case when the Texas Lottery drawing came on. He fumbled around his pocket until he pulled the tickets out and spread them out in front of him on his lap. He cracked a fresh beer and waited for the announcer to start calling out the numbers. When the announcer was done the numbers across the screen were 5-10-16-38-47-53. Dave scanned his tickets, no winner.

Dave woke up on Sunday morning, or afternoon, he wasn’t sure. He stood up and kicked all the cans out of the way. On the way to stumbling to the shower he clicked the radio on. He was halfway through his shower when the announcer started talking about last night’s drawing. Dave thought he heard there was a local winner and the ticket had been bought at Mo’s Mini Mart. That was his convenience store. Naked and wet he ran into the living room. He fell to his knees and started pushing through the cans looking for the tickets. Finally, he found them beer-stained and crumpled up. He smoothed them the best he could. He dressed and ran out to his truck.

He stopped at the first newspaper hawker he saw on the corner. He threw a couple bucks at the guy and grabbed the paper. He flipped to the lottery page and spread the paper and tickets out on the seat of the truck. His eyes scanned the numbers and they stopped on one string, the third quick pick down. They were 5-10-16-38-47-53. He won! He always picked the cash payout. He had just won 20.3 million dollars. He had no idea what that was after taxes, but that still translated into a whole hell of a lot of Natural Light. He stuffed the ticket into his pocket.

With a jackpot he would have to go to Austin to get his money. There was no way his truck could make it that far. He drove downtown to the bus station and bought a ticket to Austin. It took the last $40 he had in his pocket but tomorrow at this time that would not be a problem.

***

He got to Austin around eight that night and slept in the bus station because he only had money for a cab ride the next morning. The cops had rousted him once during the night and he had just walked around the block and went right back to the bench he was on before.

Dave caught a cab to lottery headquarters the next morning and was waiting when the doors opened. He walked up to the reception desk and slid the ticket across the counter.

Yes sir, is there something I can help you with? the blonde receptionist with too many teeth smiled at him.

Yeah, I won the lottery Saturday night and I was wondering where I picked up the money at.

What game did you win sir? she said still smiling.

The big one. 20.3 million bucks in one lump sum, Dave proudly stated.

Okay, wait here. Please. I will get someone to help you.

She got up and walked through a door behind her desk. Ten minutes later she came back with another smiling lady. These are some happy people Dave thought.

Hello, I am Melinda Phillips. I am the payment coordinator for the lottery commission.

Dave, Dave Crandall, Dave said, putting his hand out.

She looked over his shoulder, which made Dave turn his head.

You are alone?

Well...yeah. Should I have brought someone with me?

It’s just that usually with this big of an amount people hire advisors, a lawyer or something, Melinda said, now frowning.

I don’t need none of that. I already know what I am doing with the dough.

That is certainly your right I suppose. Come on back and let’s see what we can do for you. Melinda was smiling again.

Melinda took Dave’s driver license and Social Security card to make copies while he waited in a conference room. He was looking at the pictures of the past winners on the walls when a man, smiling of course, came through the door.

Good morning, Mr. Crandall. I am Todd Johnson, public relations director for the lottery commission. I heard you are the big winner from Saturday night’s drawing.

Yep, sure enough that is me. Dave beamed.

He was now mister Crandall. My, how money changes things.

Mr. Crandall, we would like to hold a press conference and get some publicity photos of you. It is all pretty standard stuff. How does that sound?

That sounds great.

An hour later the room was filled with people, some with cameras, some with microphones, and all trying to ask him questions. There was a stand holding a giant cardboard check with his name on it. Todd and Melinda were there smiling their 1,000-watt smiles. After it was all over Melinda handed him a normal-sized check and it was pay to the order of Dave Crandall.

Where do you reckon I can cash a check this big?

"Mr. Crandall, I don’t think you can cash a check that big. Don’t you have a bank?" Melinda was frowning again.

Nope, never really needed one.

I have a friend that works at a bank here in town. Let me call her for you so they can help you.

That’d be so kind of you, Melinda. Dave folded the check and put it in his pocket.

***

Dave was in the office of Melinda’s friend at the bank. She had a big smile like Melinda and smelled like flowers. She told Dave she was the branch manager and her name was Darla Guthrie.

Ms. Guthrie, Melinda told me you could help me cash this lottery check.

"Mr. Crandall there is a problem with that. First,