Draculas of a feather . . . . suck blood together

The third installment in a series following one man's quest to rid a warehouse of Vampires.

I've noticed Arturo has been a little more nervous with the proximity of Halloween around the corner, or around the week if you prefer. He stated on Monday that we were all forced to wear collared shirts so that when the Draculitos bit our necks to suck blood out the evidence would be hidden behind a collar. (At least it's not a popped collar, we aren't that cool) We enjoyed a nervous laugh together as I say his point and wondered to myself why indeed we had to wear collared shirts.

Things got a little bit more intense this afternoon. . . .

Arturo approached me with a few minutes to spare before he left for home. He asked if he could buy two rolls of the plastic wrap that we use to keep product on the pallets when it goes in trucks, (above is a picture). I asked him what he needed it for because I thought it was a weird request that he asked me to question the crocodile (this is what he calls our boss, there will be another story elaborating on this) and he would wait. I went into my boss' office and asked if Arturo could buy two rolls of the plastic wrap. The 'crocodile' was a little perplexed at such a strange request and replied that we did not normally sell these wraps to employees and that a box of it (4 rolls) cost $86. I returned to Arturo with the news that he could purchase a box of the wrap. I again inquired to what use he intended this wrap, the reason being that the wrap is hundreds of yards long and you do not need a large quantity to wrap a lot of things. He was once again vague and said he had a lot of things "fuera da casa" that needed to be wrapped many times. I went inside and finally convinced the 'crocodile' to sell Arturo a roll and he agreed to do so for $20. Arturo was excited by the news when I came back outside the office. This intermediary business had tired me out and I intended to find out the purpose of all this wrap. As Arturo was leaving I asked him once again why he needed so much plastic wrap. This time he finally heeded my call by simply replying with a sly smile To set traps for the little draculas." and walked out the door. To be continued . . . .

The assasinated gato

This is the second part in my series of the Draculitos and Arturo.

The last few weeks have brought 3 kittens into our lives at the Coca-Cola warehouse. They showed up out of nowhere one day and a couple of the guys started leaving scraps of food out for them by the parking lot in back. The cats have gotten bigger (as kittens are known to do) and eventually one of the ladies even bought them a small house to keep warm in because of the ensuing cold. One day last week I got to work very early and walked inside and started my normal routine of work. A few hours passed before Arturo approached me. He said that the Draculitos were in need of blood and had killed one of the cats ( his spanish words were, Los Draculitos estavan con hambre y assiniaram el gato). I was a bit confused and thought he was kidding so I didn't think much of it. A few minutes later another co-worker appeared and said that one of the cats had been killed in the parking lot. I didn't know quite what to think, I hadn't grown particularly close to any of the cats, but I thought it was strange. About five minutes after this my boss came up and told me he had pulled in and seen the dead gato on the pavement too. News was certainly moving fast. Maybe the Draculitos were really out for blood and Arturo had been right. When I walked in that morning I had seen no dead gato's on the road and the Draculitos always got to work after I did. Well, being on the low end of the totem poll at work, I found Arturo recruiting me to help him pick up the remains of the cat. He drove his forklift out with a garbage bin and I had a shovel. Sure enough when we got outside I saw the assassinated gato. The entrails were sprawled out next to the flat body and a bird was picking at them. (I said assassinated because gatos are usually quite agile and this one had been hit by a car, I suspected foul play, but unfortunately no proof was ever found.) I moved into position with the shovel and had to turn away while Arturo pushed the gato with a broom, I seriously almost yacked all over when I felt the weight of the gato in the shovel. I tried to do a no look lift into the garbage can and missed . . . . the gato smacked back onto the ground. Arturo chuckled and made fun of my weak stomach. Much to his chagrin I found my mark on the second toss and the gato was out of sight. Perhaps the Draculitos had struck again, I am not sure how the gato died other than it was hit by a car, but I do think something must have happened to impede the gato from moving. When will the Draculitos strike again?

Just as I wrote that last part down I remembered a story that happened about two days after the gato incident. I was sitting in the break room with Arturo and Lupe. I looked on top of the Coke machine and saw a bottle of Fruit Punch Powerade. I inquired of Arturo if it was his, to which he sheepishly replied, "es la sangre para los draculitos" (it's the blood for the Draculas). I couldn't stop laughing for the next 5 minutes. This guy seriously has me convinced that there are Draculas at my work and they have taken the form of two half-Samoan kids.