I have made some poor choices in life. Chief among them was the decision to major in English and go into publishing. If I had half a brain I would have become a website designer or something, but alas, here I am. Furlough days, and pay cuts add insult to injury when it comes to working in a dying industry for a…um…”awesome” company.
I’ve got grand travel plans and no money to fund them so I decided that it was time to stop spending my evenings blogging and watching 30 Rock re-runs, and get a second job. I hate waiting tables so retail made the most sense and I went out and applied at a major retailer at a local mall (one where I didn’t think I’d be tempted to buy anything). That being said, I went to orientation for my new night-job a couple days ago. It seems unfair that I should have two jobs while so many people are out of work, but I figure if they wanted this job they would have applied for it. (Wait a few weeks, and I may be willing to give it to you.)
In high school, a creepy teacher who was most well-known for having a daughter in the porn industry told me I had a “superiority complex.” I don’t disagree. I don’t deal well with things I think are stupid, tedious, redundant, or otherwise not worth my time. Unless you’re one of my close friends I assume that I am smarter, funnier, and more interesting than you. I’ve gotten marginally better at hiding this attitude, but you can imagine how I react to four hours of my day being taken up by something that could take two hours, that is being led by someone who has what I would consider to be a tenuous grasp on the English language (not in an ESOL way but in a way that leads to entire words being left out of sentences and the word “yous” being tossed around). If I found this person snorting lines of coke in a bathroom I would not be the least bit surprised. In fact it would make me feel better because at least there would be an explanation.
Strangely, I liked my fellow orientation-goers. They were mostly college kids and none of them struck me as stupid, which is saying something. They seemed as annoyed by the absurdity of the whole orientation as I was and I liked them for it. I even felt a duty to speak up for them when we were informed that we weren’t enthusiastic enough, and inform the leader that I had absolutely no idea how to answer his question (mostly because he wasn’t asking an actual question but making a statement and expecting some sort of answer).
My fellow CuTters are taking bets on how long it takes me to storm out saying something like “I can’t work for someone who talks like My Cousin Vinny!” The Gay Guru had a little bit of advice from Ms. Tina Turner and his personal anthem, “Private Dancer”:
You keep your mind on the money/Keeping your eyes on the wall.