humanoidioh,my favorite billie Holiday,მაგაში მოვუსმენ ყველაზე ორიგინალურად
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ამის კითხვამ შემაყოვნა:
Picky, Yes I Am!
So, I got a job, in a department store, selling crackers.
On my first day on the job, I realized two things; First, it's incredibly tiring to end every single thing you say with a question mark. Second, no matter how nice you are, there is a limit to the length of time you can keep a smile on your face. Mine was four hours.
It's all in the cheeks; you don't smile, you flex your cheek muscles, contorting your mouth into a polite crook that never reaches your eyes. If people are attentive enough, they might think you're constipated.
Your politeness is fake, the customers know it, and don't care. In fact, they demand that of you. They tell you something mean about your work cap, about how disgusting the product is, how ridiculous the prices are, and they expect you to smile back and say pathetic things such as 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry'.
Each and every one of them thinks he's the wittiest person alive. Their lack of originality concerning the 'smart' remarks they make, is astounding. See, I figured we're individuals, we react differently to different situations, and boy, was I wrong. By the time my sixth hour on the job passed, I thought I'd strangle the next guy who asked me, "So, do you come here often?" Really guys, if you're that desperate, jump off a bridge.
I admit that I do have a price for my pride, I'd stoop myself if necessary, but not for minimum wage! I quit on the second day. I know I didn't prove anything by it, but it felt fucking awesome.
I might make a habit of that; I was always afraid of doing something wrong in fear of getting fired, but suddenly I couldn't care less, and this apathy just might extend to all part-time jobs. This should make the coming months interesting enough…
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