Gosh Sandy, What’s Your Last Name


It is from the perspective of the lady working the cashiers desk at the Tops, right before I murdered everything. Enjoy!)

Jesus Christ, Sandy, you would not believe the day I just had.  Uuuugh, I need a drink.  Do we have any of that Jake Juice left?  Oh, you bitch.  Okay, we have vodka.  I am going to drink this whole bottle, I swear to gawd.

Okay.  So.  The day started out normal.  I had Swank chasing me around the pit for ten minutes after I walked in the door, but that’s Swank for ya.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  But two hours into my shift, and I remember exactly, because I was about to go on break, two hours in, this crazy lookin’ lady walks up to my window.  Crazy lookin’, like wild-eyed, blue hair, scar-that-looked-like-someone-shot-her-in-the-head crazy lookin’.  Oh, and with her, is this freaky-ass dog that I swear to gawd is like half robot, I mean I could see its brains and shit it was disgusting!  No, it had like a glass jar for the top of its head, with like lights shining in.  I almost puked when I saw it.  And then behind her is some other person, i think it was a chick, but she was wearing this armor like in those old holos we used to watch down in Vault 21 when we were kids, remember?  Like that, it was the craziest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

Soo this crazy-ass lady walks up to my window, and she tells me she wants some chips.  I’m like sure thing, crazy, how many?  And she slides me a $100 NCR note.  So I count out 40 chips and slide them across to her.  I ask if she needs anything else, and she looks me right in the eye, straight face, and tells me that she wants some chips, and slides across another $100 bill.  So I count out another 40 chips, and I slide them across the counter again, and she shovels them into her weird person sack of crap.  I ask her again, if she needs anything else.  And she tells me–yeah, she tells me that she would like some more chips.  And she slides another $100 bill to me.

I swear to gawd, this WENT ON.  Like, four more times.  Finally, she runs out of $100 bills, so she switches to twenties!  No, I’m not even joking!  For like fifteen minutes, we’re there, she’ll slide a twenty to me, I count out 8 chips, ask her if she’d like anything else, and we’d start all over again!  I thought it was some kinda performance art or somthin’, like she wasn’t gonna stop until I quit askin’ her if she wanted anything else or somethin’!  Or maybe like this was some kinda test, like maybe they were pushing me to see if I’d crack, and I had to stay polite to this lunatic lady or I’d get fired.  And I ain’t gettin’ fired, I’m not going back to Gomorrah.

Then, after a while with the twenties, it’s like she got bored or somethin’, and started giving me other stuff, like NCR 5’s, and Legion shit.  Shit, Sandy, she even had some of those, whaddaya call ’em, Areolas?  The gold ones, the ones that are worth like a hundred caps?  She had a bunch of those, and I don’t think I’ve ever even seen more than one of them in the same place at once before!  I don’t know if she and armor-chick were knocking off Legionaries or jerking them off, and I don’t think I want to know.

Finally, after another ten or fifteen minutes of this crazy chick exchanging one coin at a time for chips, she finally just decides she’s done.  And I mean, I snuck a peek in that big sack she was pulling all this money out of, she had PLENTY more crumpled up in there.  I don’t know if this was some crazy…  I can’t think of anything!  Just, look, Sandy, you have to promise me that if I save up all my money some day, and dye my hair blue, and make you put on a big-ass suit of armor to come to the casino with me, I need you to slap me as hard as you can with your big metal hand.

No, like from the armor.

No, Sandy, I know you don’t have metal hands.  Jesus, Sandy.

Anyway, this crazy chick decides she’s done, and turns to leave, and I’m like “Thank.  Gawd.”  But before I can grab my “Next register please” sign so I can take my break, I blink and suddenly she’s BACK.  Looking at me.  And it’s like a reflex by now, I just blurted out, “Welcome to the Tops, how can I help you.”  I know, like, “Welcome?”  What?  Like I didn’t just spend the past forty minutes dealing with your crazy ass?

So I ask her how I can help her, and she looks me right in the eye again, same crazy straight face, and she says to me.

“I’d like to turn in my chips.”

Not one game!  Nothing!  Not one spin of the slots, not one hand of blackjack, not one spin of the roulette wheel!  She didn’t get more than ten feet from the window!  I’ll tell you this, robot dog or no, she is damn lucky they reinforce both sides of that screen, because I was ready to wring her neck.

Thankfully she just dumped all ten-thousand-odd chips out of her big crazy person sack at once, instead of doing it one stupid chip at a time.

I swear, first thing Monday, I’m tellin’ Swank i want off the night shift.

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