Jack was the grocery manager at The Tombs. He was a scruffy, skinny little shit, tough as nails and drove a big, gold Lincoln Continental. Far too big for his little body.
He was a nut. He'd flip you off at the drop of a hat.
I remember being at the store at some point during my first week of work - still training on the register - and I was on my break, sitting outside drinking a soda. He was coming in, walking through the parking lot and as he got closer to me he just smiled, flipped me the bird and kept right on walking.
I had a feeling I was gonna like this guy just because he didn't give a shit - he came in, got the work done and that was that. Don't piss him off though - if you did your work you got to stay on his good side. He was a good man and reminded me of a cross between Hunter S. Thomson and a rabid pitbull.
