Sandy Sawbuck
This space has been very useful for complaining about my crummy retail job. I am a huge baby and I exaggerate; the job is not that bad. It started out as seasonal, which was fine for both parties. But after Christmas came and went, no other job opportunities revealed themselves to me, and the store still needed help. So I stayed on and became a permanent part-time employee.
This means that I now have no clear escape in sight, like I did when I was a temp. I see these prime years of my life goign down the drain as I spend my days adding customers to our mailing list and straightening bra tops on hangers. The clothes at the place make me sick now. They are so lame, so Bay Area Mom. I have to wear a small or extra-small in most of them, and lemme tell you--I'm thin, but I ain't no extra-small. Spending so much time around casual, baggy pastel clothing makes me wanna revert back to my black denim and motorcycle boot mode of attire, but that would kind of stick out. So I wear the few baggy, shapeless, unstained and unholed clothing items in my closet over and over again. I have, like, one work outfit because everything else is too dressy (?!)
Some of the women I work with get to me as well. I like working with men, who may be just as sensetive, but they cover it up with cussing and crude jokes. My catty nature is rising up at this all-woman clothing retail job, and I don't like it. I'm trying to be more zen.
However, I have made some work friends who feel just as I do about the retail life. This helps a lot. One of these people is Leslie, who is also keenly aware of the time and talent that Fat Woman Fleece is sucking from her vitality. Yesterday we were both off, and we took her chocolate lab Hannah to the Bulb for a romp in the frothy chemical stew that is the Bay. Standing there on the little strip of beach behind the horse track, I noticed a slip of green sticking up from the sand. A ten dollar bill! It made our day--well, no, not really. But is was a nice bonus. After touring the Bulb we went to this coffee place down the block from my apartment and were big spenders. I got a 12-ounce latte instead of an 8-ounce latte, and I tipped a whole dollar instead of my usual 50 cents (and that's only if I have change). Yes, we were riding high, sipping grandiose coffee drinks and talking about what the hell we should do with ourselves and our mangled careers.
I wonder who dropped that $10 bill in the sand? Why would anyone have their wallet out at the Bulb, anyway? There's nothing to buy there, which is why the place is so special and fun. Bulb entertainment is free: the spectacle of nature's bottom-feeders taking over mankind's industrial flotsam. Well, whoever you are, person, I hope you had 10 bucks to spare.
This means that I now have no clear escape in sight, like I did when I was a temp. I see these prime years of my life goign down the drain as I spend my days adding customers to our mailing list and straightening bra tops on hangers. The clothes at the place make me sick now. They are so lame, so Bay Area Mom. I have to wear a small or extra-small in most of them, and lemme tell you--I'm thin, but I ain't no extra-small. Spending so much time around casual, baggy pastel clothing makes me wanna revert back to my black denim and motorcycle boot mode of attire, but that would kind of stick out. So I wear the few baggy, shapeless, unstained and unholed clothing items in my closet over and over again. I have, like, one work outfit because everything else is too dressy (?!)
Some of the women I work with get to me as well. I like working with men, who may be just as sensetive, but they cover it up with cussing and crude jokes. My catty nature is rising up at this all-woman clothing retail job, and I don't like it. I'm trying to be more zen.
However, I have made some work friends who feel just as I do about the retail life. This helps a lot. One of these people is Leslie, who is also keenly aware of the time and talent that Fat Woman Fleece is sucking from her vitality. Yesterday we were both off, and we took her chocolate lab Hannah to the Bulb for a romp in the frothy chemical stew that is the Bay. Standing there on the little strip of beach behind the horse track, I noticed a slip of green sticking up from the sand. A ten dollar bill! It made our day--well, no, not really. But is was a nice bonus. After touring the Bulb we went to this coffee place down the block from my apartment and were big spenders. I got a 12-ounce latte instead of an 8-ounce latte, and I tipped a whole dollar instead of my usual 50 cents (and that's only if I have change). Yes, we were riding high, sipping grandiose coffee drinks and talking about what the hell we should do with ourselves and our mangled careers.
I wonder who dropped that $10 bill in the sand? Why would anyone have their wallet out at the Bulb, anyway? There's nothing to buy there, which is why the place is so special and fun. Bulb entertainment is free: the spectacle of nature's bottom-feeders taking over mankind's industrial flotsam. Well, whoever you are, person, I hope you had 10 bucks to spare.
posted by Lefty at 10:10 AM
1 Comments:
"I wonder who dropped that $10 bill in the sand?"
why, it was none other than the $10 bill fairy! the $10 bill fairy leaves loot at random in places not accessable by wallets. this differs from the $5 bill fairy in that it will leave loot in and around areas heavily trafficked by wallets, and purses. while discovering ten bucks is fun, it's nowhere as cool as receiving a 20 spot from the $20 bill fairy. the $20 bill fairy is an extreme recluse though so you should only expect to find that kinda scratch at it's usual haunts. gas stations, ATMs, and post offices.
yep.
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