Brewstew – Crazy Customers

Brewstew – Crazy Customers

Alright, for those of you that don’t know, I used to work at a car dealership
in the service department. When people would come and get their car fixed, it was my job to bring them back home
in a shitty soccer mom minivan. For the most part it was a decent job. I mean, if you don’t mind having
the same three conversations fifty fuckin’ times a day. “Boy, the weather sure is nice outside!” “Look at these goddamn gas prices!
They’re way too damn high!” “So do you just drive people around all day?” It gets a little old pretty damn quick! After a while when people would get in,
I’d just be like: “Before you say anything, yes, the weather
is nice outside, yes, the gas prices are bullshit and yes, all I do is drive people around all day,
because I make shitty life decisions!” Half the time people didn’t want to talk to me anyways. They were too pissed off
about their car being a broken pile of shit. I try to strike up a conversation: “So uh.. so what brings you in today?” “Uh, well, my car caught on fire,
because it’s a pile of shit and it killed my goddamn Cocker Spaniel!
That’s what brings me in today!” “Oh, okay! All right! Well,
I guess I’ll go fuck myself then, fantastic!” But pissed-off people I can handle. It was the crazy people
that would come in on a regular basis. Those were the ones you had to look out for. People, like Mr. Mortega,
who was a lunatic in every sense of the word. He’d roll into the shop with his Ford Explorer
covered in Donald Trump bumper stickers. They weren’t even clever stickers either,
they would just say, like: “Hillary’s A Bitch.” And you’d be like: “Okay, that’s the best you can do?
Not very clever there, Mr. Mortega, not very clever!” Now, this guy was a psychopath,
and it was pretty easy to see, because he would wear a button on his shirt
with an aborted fetus on it. Quite the conversation piece, I must say! He’d walk up to me:
“Yeah, I’m here to get my brakes fixed!” I’m staring down at his feet, trying not to make
eye contact with a goddamn dead fetus on his chest. But then I realise this guy is wearing crocs,
now I’m even more upset! And I don’t know where to fuckin’ avert my eyes to. So I’d have to drive this guy back to his house. And it was at this point
that he would try to say something racist to me. I don’t know what it is, he’d just look at me
and think: “Oh yeah, this guy must be a racist!” “I’m sure I can share my beliefs with him!” And I could always tell
when he was about to say some racist shit. He’d say something like: “Yeah, this neighbourhood
is not what it used to be, that’s for sure!” (“Oh boy, here we go”) “It’s all these fuckin’
Mexicans moving in, I tell you what.. (“WHOA!”) .. they need to build that wall for Christ’s sake!” “Hell, they should build two of them
while they’re at it, fuck those Canadians!” So needless to say, he was a real treat to deal with! But he wasn’t the only one. Because there was a guy, named Tom Plunkett. Who just so happened to look like a mall Santa Claus,
that maybe did a couple tours of Vietnam. And Tom Plunkett drove a big-ass cargo van,
which isn’t very strange. But all the goddamned stuffed animals
he kept inside of it, well, that was a bit perplexing! I don’t know, why a sixty-year-old man
would have a bunch of stuffed animals in there. But you know what? Just like Mr. Mortega’s baby button, I just
tried to pretend that they weren’t even there. But boy, would he get pissed,
if one of those stuffed animals were out of place! “Who the hell moved
my Magilla Gorilla stuffed animal?!” “It’s clearly four inches to the left!
What the hell happened?!” Now, I’d always had to take Tom Plunkett
to his mother’s house, which was about a 20-minute trip. I mean, it took five minutes to get there,
but for fifteen minutes we’d sit in front of her house, while he gave me a play by play of the Yahtzee game,
that him and his mom played the night before. “So then I went for my large straight,
but I couldn’t get that, so I had to use my chance!” “Damn! That’s great, Tom, that’s great!” “And my mom, she got her 35-point
bonus, so that put me in a pickle.” “Yeah, Tom, I’m sure it did!” “So then I roll four sixes
and I’m tempted to use my four of a kind!” “I’m sure you were, Tom, I’m sure!” “And then my mom rolls again,
and wouldn’t you know it..” *BANG* “She got another Yahtzee! What a bitch!” But Tom Plunkett was nothing,
compared to a customer, named Fred Arnold. And let me tell you, I’d listen to hours
and hours of Tom’s incoherent Yahtzee babble instead of dealing with Fred Arnold! You see, Fred Arnold
would bring his truck in to get fixed. And the only problem with that is
Fred Arnold LIVES in his truck! And when I say lives in his truck,
I mean he eats there, he sleeps there and most importantly, he SHITS there
when he has to, in a bucket! In this bucket right here! That’s right, I managed to take a picture
of one of the many-many times he came to visit. Doesn’t it look like Disney Land?
Put that shit on a post card, wish you were here! So on top of the truck being filled with garbage, sometimes there’d be a big ol’ bucket
of Fred Arnold’s shit riding shotgun! “Oh, cool, human shit! Boy, I’m sure
earning every cent of these 8 dollars an hour!” Now, Fred Arnold didn’t have a house
for me to take him to, since.. Well, we’re fixing his house! But he always had me take him to the bank. You see, Fred Arnold was independently wealthy.
He had a bunch of money! He chose to live in his truck just because..
Well, he wanted to live in a fuckin’ truck, I guess. Now, Fred Arnold never said a word to me,
when we’d go to the bank. Which is fine with me, I mean, what kind
of small talk are we gonna have? “So Fred, you shit in your own truck, huh?
That’s pretty neat!” “I mean, I shit in a toilet,
but different strokes for different folks.” But out of the dozen or so times,
that I’ve given my man a ride there was one occasion,
that he actually said something to me. And it caught me off-guard! He leans over and *clears his throat* (“Oh my God, he’s gonna say something!
What’s it gonna be?!”) (“Is he gonna tell me how he has so much money?
Or why he sleeps in his truck?!”) (“Or why he shits in buckets?
What is it, Fred?!”) *Clears his throat*
“These gas prices are ridiculous!” “Oh, God damn it, Fred!” Special Thanks To: Tiffany Teague, Brandon Armstrong,
James Ballew, Patrick Bowlin. Special Thanks To: [These wonderful people]
& All the other patrons!

About the Author: Michael Flood


  1. You have a ton of money saved up because you live in your truck. Think about it. No rent, no electric, no gas bill. Only the occasional truck repair bill and the need to eat. The savings would be through the fuckin roof

  2. You know what is stupid people can be rasict but really they aint fully white i mean America was founded by imagrents

  3. I've been watching you for so long my brother showed you you and I love you so much I love your videos and they're hecka funny I was just mad and I just watch this one and it made me happy again

  4. Petition to get brewstew to make a diss track on the all Storytime Animators he can get his stick figure hands on.

  5. Thank you for the pic of a bucket with Lindsey Lohan heads in it. I did not know I needed that in my life until I saw it.

  6. Fred didn’t want to live in his truck he was just a dumb greedy bastard who wouldn’t spend a scent on a living space

  7. Well this video is pure GOLD
    And just so you know I took a screenshot of the truck house shit bucket mess…. I'm thinking T-shirt baby.

    Got a few sayings to put on it. 😁😁😁

  8. Fred Arnold should be an uber driver, a work- at- home calling right there for ya. (the shit bucket is a one-star for sure.)

  9. My father in law was a diesel mechanic and had a truck come in like Fred's. he left it in the lot and opened both doors then proceeded to blow it out with an industrial steam/pressure washer. needless to say both the driver and his boss were none to happy, well until the boss saw the bugs streaming out of the rig. needless to say the driver was charged a cleaning fee in addition to the repairs( that were in the cab, yuck).

  10. I know he's telling the truth..I work in customer service and trust me. You think there's a glitch in the matrix because different people ask the exact same questions the exact same way. Same with "the jokes". That and uh. People are strange. Very, very strange.

  11. I know the feeling of shuttling crazy people around for a dealership and I had answers prepared for all of those questions

  12. Hahaha I’m 4 yrs old this episode reminds me of when I was 86 and I jumped off a 3000 ft mountain. 😂 good times

  13. That shits not entirely racist though kinda fucked up…he said look at all these Mexicans moving in…well….was that true?

  14. When I was little my retarted ass thought gas was like $1.68 and then my mom would complain and my retarted ass says they’re literally a dollar

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