Think outside the escalator.
*My secondary blog is queendopamine. If you follow that blog and get a follow back from this URL, it's because I can't do follows from a secondary account.
So, my obsession with Justin Timberlake and Jimmy Fallon’s History of Rap series is just embarrassing now.
I did pre-hire paperwork today for my new job. The customer service team leader, who meant well, rapidly recited the dress code and cleanliness standards in a well-rehearsed monotone. Her eyes kept glancing down at my hands, my fingernails, my hair, my ears. She’s done this many times before. Did I have piercings? Was I going to brush my hair differently? Did I understand I’d have to cut my nails and take off my ring?
Yes, I understood. Very well. This isn’t my first retail rodeo.
Being gone for almost four years, you think my return to barely-above-minimum-wage glory would be well-thought out and carefully considered. But there I was, face-to-face with unremarkable store policies, and yet I still felt the tight grip of authority wrapping itself around my neck. I nervously took a sip of water and tried to reassure myself.
Every store does this. I’ve worked for several of them, in fact. This one is supposed to be the best of the best. It’s not even “corporate”; it’s “privately-owned”. I want to be here. I chose to be here.
Squirming in my seat, nodding along, signing off, I never got the courage to tell them I had another job offer and wanted them to pay me a little bit more. I need a little bit more. I could probably use a lot more. After all, when I left corporate healthcare, and the like, I left a much higher salary. At the time, I didn’t regret it. Desk jobs, underneath the fluorescent lighting and micromanaging, are not for me.
As of yet, I still don’t regret that decision. However, staring company policy straight in the face and saying, “yes, sir, may I have some more” gave me a familiar rebellious feeling that won’t soon be forgotten. I can only hope that a conversation with my department manager and a swift acclamation will readjust me to being part of this terrorized world that is retail.
I forgot the word for necklace or ring today during my Spanish midterm, so I put down la joyería tiene cosas bonitas.
Okay where exactly did I lose you, last three followers who unfollowed me? Is it the ED shit? The MD shit? The random Tupac video?
Well, whatever. I’m doing me.
Seriously. How do people have a healthy view about food? How did I ever have a healthy view about food??
- self-loathing: ACTIVATE!
Martinis according to my brother
- Him: It tastes like a Christmas tree.
It is possible that where I’m at now is not where I’m meant to be
Still feeling this from August.
Satire According to my Brother
- Him: And next time, mom, buy Gain; I hate the smell of tide!