I coulda been a manager.

Jabba the Russian offered to make me a manager, today.

"Are you the manager?" he asked me, with his back facing me, in his thick accent as I exited the store. I had to change the big trash.

"No," I said, weaving around the dozen people he had encircling him and much of the door way.

"What is your name?"

I answered him. He said something in Russian and everyone started to laugh.

"I hear you do good work," he said to me as I wrestled with the door to the trash, one of his people was blocking it.

Of course you had to hear, I thought, you're not a regular customer. I bet this is the first time you've ever come here.

"So," he said in his thick accent, "do you want to be a manager?"

"No," I said, my hand in the trash, taking off the top layer so I could actually pull the can out.

"I can call Seattle. I know Bill Gates." More Russian and laughter. "He owns part of this, or something." Everyone laughs. "Do you want to be a manager?"

"No."

"No, the manager here, at this store."

"I don't want to be a manager, especially of these people."

Some guy said something in Russian. Jabba answered. They all laugh.

"What do you want to do," asked Jabba "you know, later on, in you life, after all this?" He gestured with his arm at the store.

"I want to make enough money so I don't have to work for anyone but myself ever again."

Some girl spoke, in Russian. Everyone laughed.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" he asked.

"I don't know, win the Lotto."

Everyone laughed. I struggled with the bag in the can. It was too full, hard to pull out. I knew I needed to go faster, had to get out of there.

"You know," he said, "I've never played the Lotto because--"

"It's impossible to win," I said. "I never play it either."

"You look like a smart guy, are you going to school?"

"Yeah."

"How old are you?"

I told him. He said something in Russian and laughter erupted from the crowd.

"And are you married or single?"

"Single," I said as the garbage bag finally slid out of the can.

More Russian. More laughter. I started to line the can with a new bag.

"Seriously," he said, "what do you plan on doing, you know, to, uhh, make your fortune?"

"Honestly, I have no freakin' idea what I'm going to do. I'll probably be replacing trash right here for the rest of my life."

I gave the door to the trash a hard push and it shut with a thump.

"Okay," he said, "we'll let you get back to work."

I picked up two bags of trash and walked away. As I turned around the corner, there was an outburst of laughter. I stopped, took eight deep breaths, and continued on my way.