I Got Home From My Warehouse Shift To Find All My Stuff Dumped On The Front Lawn. My Mom Was…
So, here’s the thing about working third shift at a warehouse. You come home exhausted, covered in dust and sweat, and all you want is a shower and maybe 6 hours of sleep before you have to do it all over again. What you don’t expect is to turn onto your street at 7:00 a.m. on a Thursday and see your entire life spread across the front lawn like some kind of twisted yard sale.
My 2009 Silverado—with the dented passenger door and the check engine light that’s been on since 2019—rolled up to a scene that would have been funny if it wasn’t happening to me.
My mom, Georgina, was standing there in her bathrobe and slippers, phone out, recording the whole thing like she was some kind of documentary filmmaker.
My Xbox was in pieces near the garage door. My clothes were stuffed into trash bags. My weights from the basement were stacked next to my gaming chair. Even my protein powder containers were out there.
I sat in my truck for maybe 10 seconds trying to process what I was seeing.
The Hendersons across the street were on their porch with coffee mugs. Old man Richard next door was actually in his driveway pretending to check his mailbox at 7:00 in the morning. Nobody pretends to check their mailbox at 7:00 a.m. They were all there for the show.
Georgina saw me and started walking toward my truck before I even got out. She was shouting about how I’m 27 years old and sucking them dry like some kind of vampire. How she wants me gone, how this is her house and she’s done enabling me.
My brother Glenn came out of the garage and kicked my gym bag into the street. He was grinning like this was the best morning of his life, saying they were changing the Wi-Fi password too, calling me a loser.
Then my dad, Arnold, came out. He picked up what was left of my Xbox and smashed it against the garage door again. Just really made sure it was destroyed.
He started going off about what kind of grown man lives in his parents’ basement playing video games all day, how I’m an embarrassment, how the neighbors have been complaining.
And right on cue, Richard shouted from his driveway that my truck has been bringing down property values for two years and good riddance, like he’d been waiting for permission to say it out loud.
I got out of my truck, didn’t say anything, just started loading my stuff into the bed. Trash bags full of clothes, my gaming chair, the weights, everything.
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