TontoandFriends.com

By Tonto Balboa - tontobalboa@hotmail.com  

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The times are sure getting tough around here for an ex-boxer turned online publishing entrepreneur. As a famed dramatist said, “Everything is prelude.” Allow me to explain: Two weeks ago, the brain trust that runs my apartment complex made a decision to add a fourth washing machine and dryer to our 40 unit complex. Accordingly, the rent was raised. In my case, it jumped $27 dollars, suddenly blowing the lid off my monthly budget. Changes needed to be made. I had to temporarily put a hold on the perks I lavished upon my writing staff.

No more addresses of random people who “look like they possess two fully functioning kidneys and could spare one.” No more spare change. No more bottles of rum and track lighting. No more Vicodin.

No more.

Worse yet, I needed to take on a real job.

This is something I haven’t done since I cashed in on my boxing fame as a greeter for six weeks at “Mamma Rue’s Bingo Parlor for Seniors” on the Mexhicapti Tribal Reservation. Who knew that there was no Mexhicapti tribe and that it was a front for a corporate money laundering scheme? I didn’t. Same can’t be said for the FBI…

So far, I’ve found limited success as a temp. Bouncing around from office-to-office is now way to live for anyone, let alone someone who went toe-to-toe (and face-to-canvas) with Larry Holmes for the world title!

In the boxing and publishing world, I’ve encountered some real gems of human beings, but nothing compares to the collection of humanity that populates the office work world.

This is what I deal with now for 20 hours a week:

The God Guy – This is the guy who wears the big hemp looking necklace with a big brown cross over his shirt and tie. Usually tall and lanky with scruffy sideburns and mop-top hair cut, The God Guy will always be nice to you, but if you’re careful, you can catch him praying that “… the new boxer guy finds work that will keep him far away from me, like a construction yard. Lord, please push him and his sleepy eye in a new path. I don’t like looking at him…”

Typically, he’s not very effective at work, but he’s so nice that they keep him around. Perhaps, the HR manager fears Hell?

The One-Track Mind Guy – I’m not opposed to witty banter, but I can’t even talk boxing for eight hours, let alone import cars or reality TV.

I sent in a tape for Dancing with the Stars, and I got a return envelope with a form letter emphasizing that the show was for “...celebrities only. Thank you, Mr. Balboa for your interest, but unfortunately, the selection process isn’t open to the general public. We have to limit our contestant pool to applicants who are at the very least marginally known across the country…. Best of luck in your attempts to secure a role in a reality program.”

Anyway, back to Mr. One Track Mind, these people are completely oblivious to non-verbal communication. Things like turning my back to them, putting on headphones with Slayer blaring, interrupting them mid-sentence by saying, “Wait, what are you even talking about, I wasn’t listening,” or just walking out of the office with a primal ass-blasting of last nights canned chili.

He may talk much more than you do, but at least he listens about the amount that you do.

The CIA Operative – For many people, their day truly ends at 5:00 pm. The only thing left living for is surviving long enough to be back in the saddle at 8:00 am the next morning.

For this woman, the office is her Camelot and we are mere subjects for her imperial rule. She’s the one who tells everyone else about the ketchup stain on your pants, but waits until the end of the day to remind you how inappropriate that is.

She’s the one who tells everyone that she watched a bus driver not allow you on the bus for not having exact change.

She’s the one who lets it slip that you accidentally went onto a Taiwanese blow up doll website on company time, despite your pleas that it was an errant pop up ad that you had no control over.

She knows everything. Thus, as do your co-wokers.

The “Yes, and…” Fella – If anyone needed to go 15 with Larry Holmes with his arms tied behind his back, it’s this guy. The first word of Improv Comedy (which I learned when I was the celebrity guest host for “Chico’s Wednesday Afternoon Comedy Showcase” in LA back in ’91) is to say, “Yes, and…”

It means to don’t deny the situation while adding on a joke of your own. I find that a planned midget joke works well in an improvised situation…

So yeah, this guy makes everyone else look like at total asshole by saying “Yes” to every and anything the boss asks. Plus, he suggests something else he can do to make the project that much better.

Then, when your boss asks you to make 2500 more photocopies and you tell him you can’t, they shake their head and say they’ll ask someone else “who isn’t as punchy.”

You know damn well who’s getting asked!  

The Sports Guy – Very similar to the One-Track Mind Guy, The Sports Guy is singularly focused on sports. Everything in life is a sports metaphor.

Strange, I’ve never called a knockout punch a “snarky memo emailed to the whole office.” I’ve also never heard someone describe a home run as a “great new hire to the company.”
His only interaction with anyone is if they heard about the latest trade or watched the game last night.

Oh, you haven’t? Didn’t see? Go fuck yourself.

The “I’m Only Here to Fuck Everyone Except You” Lady – Perhaps the most frustrating of all is the middle-age co-worker with fake taa-taas who lets everyone touch them (if bathroom walls are to be believed) but the new “stocky guy with wide shoulders who looks a bit creepy… is it normal to have circles that dark under his eyes” guy?

The Functional Coke Head (Employee of the Year) - Everyone loves this guy even though it’s clear he likes to do some nose skiing year round. He’s not really funny, his punchlines are tired, but holy crap if he doesn’t commit to everything he says. You’ll typically find this person working on a phone, most likely in the customer service.

Whatever you do, don’t run into him in the bathroom when you really have to go. It’s awkward ending a conversation with, “look, that’s great, but I really need to shit.” I’m still on medication for a bladder infection thanks to ill-timed piss break.

Without fail, his powdered enthusiasm has netted him multiple Employee of the Year plaques and trophies. Way to reward drug use, corporate America.

Oh, I yearn for the days when I was getting punched in the head for a few hundred dollars…  

- Tonto Balboa, real name unknown, is a former prizefighter with a record of 48-10. He is best known for getting his ass royally whupped by Larry Holmes in Madison Square Garden. Since then, Balboa has toured the country as a salesman, attempting to cash in on his 1/64th Native American heritage, by selling Indian artifacts. He is currently the editor and chief (after all, he Native American) of Tonto and Friends.  

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