On the days where I hate my job I like to think of other jobs that I have had that have been crappy. And I have had a few bizarre jobs. Maybe not of the ultra- difficult variety, but the character-building, ridiculous kind.
One of those was at a kiosk in Ford City Mall called Similarities Fragrance Company. I was a senior in high school so I was most offended by the ugly jacket I had to wear and that my former beauty-queen boss kept attacking me with her red lipstick saying, "You'll just look so pretty with a little splash of color."
In between tracks on the Basia CD my boss insisted be played, it began to dawn on me that I did not have a bright future in sales. (Basia: cheap Enya imitator) The only thing that stuff smelled similar to was butane. Old ladies and pre-teen girls would come up to me and ask, "does it still smell like White Diamonds/ Eternity/ CK One after an hour?" And I would say a definitive, no. I think I earned maybe five dollars of commission.
The most pathetic part (and therefore hilarious to me now) was my one big, rebellious day. My high school boyfriend had broken up with me an hour before I had to work and my seventeen year old heart was just shattered to pieces, y'all. So I refused to play Basia that day and instead brought in the soundtrack to The Bodyguard. I put it on repeat and stared vacantly out at the crowds of shoppers, (none of whom were shopping for fake perfume, icidentally) and wallowed in my sel-pity to the tune of "I Will Always Love You". Teenage girl angst in all of its lame glory.
So, although my job as a high school teacher can have its soul sucking moments, I don't ever actually have to be a high school student (or a sales person) ever again. Oh yeah, and tomorrow's pay day. I can deal.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment