Franz Kafka, Peter Kuper, �Give It Up!�
All right, don't get over-excited. The writing gig at the Honolulu Weekly is a freelance one, they don't pay much, and I'll be working in rotation with other writers, though the Senior Editor said if I have the time and the creative stamina to do it weekly he might make me �THE guy.� His words. I'm writing this entry instead of finishing up the first piece assigned to me.
Why? Because I'm working on deadline and the deadline is too far away. I want to seem eager, not insane.
Even if he did make me �THE guy� (opposed to THAT girl), however, the amount I get paid for each piece won�t come close to covering monthly expenses.
Which means I kept...
The other job.
Matter of fact, I had my first day three days ago. Keep in mind that in the last eight years I've worked at...
- A college library.
- An independently owned delicatessen.
- A used bookstore, also independently owned.
I haven't ever really worked in a corporate environment. Sure, I did work at The Olive Garden, which is part of the Darden restaurant chain of eateries, which is itself controlled by General Mills. That's pretty fucking corporate. But I was kept in the back and away from the public so I never had to deal with things like confidentiality agreements and selling strategies.
In fact, during our orientation, myself and another unfortunate were informed that as representatives of the corporation, even our private lives and practices can be used as basis for termination and legal action. The myspace community was listed as a frequent cause of such incidents.
Which makes it a good thing that when I signed these confidentiality agreements I wrote �Wilt Chamberlin.�
Still though, I really have no choice but to stick this out for the time being until something more desirable comes along. Something like, say, ditch digging or puppy mauling. In the meantime, I will not mention this place by name.
It's a good thing you're all such faithful readers. But you know, without faith. In any case, you know where I'm talking about, which heretofore will be referred to as The Company. Think of the Alien movies, as in �The fucking company used me!�
Peter Kuper illustrates a few of Kafka�s short-short stories for this book, with his oppressive thick black lines to accompany Franz�s oppressive tales. And that�s the perfect segue.
How to begin? The Company has a trademarked catchphrase, one that states (and I�m paraphrasing to avoid legalities or google searches) that they are �everything about music.� What they don�t advertise is they have limitations on the music that they are everything about. Restrictions include:
- Nothing involving nudity or vulgarity.
- Nothing promoting drug use or excessive violence.
- Nothing involving Satanism.
In other words, everything that makes music fun They�ve taken the Sex, Drugs and Satan out of rock and roll! It�s the Pat Boone School of Angst-filled Prepubescent Punk Rockers with Disposable Incomes!
Oh, it gets better.
Of course, I noticed several exceptions to this rule when it stood to make them some cash. Bettie Page posters featuring her in lingerie are OK, but show those cute nipples of hers and there�s no sale. Apparently, they�ve taken a blind eye to what Green Day really means. And apparently, the Iron Maiden �Number of the Beast� album cover is open to Christian-friendly interpretations, since you can buy the T-Shirt.
It�s the restriction against Satanism that I find fascinating, and I think a little research may be in order behind the people on the board of The Company. After just five minutes of poking around, I found some good stuff. How shocked would all these rebellious little ne�er-do-wells be if they found out their fringe store made Forbes 200 Best (meaning most successful) Small Companies for four consecutive years, peaking at number 4? Or that (and this is true) nearly 2 million shares are held by a Dutch bank, valued at over 41 million dollars?
Good thing this place exists for your one-stop street credibility fashion needs. What�s weirder is that I counted the shirts listed on the wall, and PTL played with eight, count �em, eight of the bands featured.
I guess we should have tried harder.
Nah.
But back to the first day. We go through the store walkthrough, as she outlines how every store is set up in exactly the same fashion so that regular customers can find whatever they want in any store, no matter how much of a mouthbreather they are. And then we�re led into the back for the group sales discussion. And this is where it gets weird. At the used bookstore, we didn�t use any kind of high pressure tactics for sales. If I thought of something a customer might like in addition to what they were buying I might bring it up, but apologized for doing so. �Not like I�m trying to get you to buy something,� I�d say, and I meant it. Here at The Company it�s the opposite, and they practically want you to fall over in delight and complements as soon as somebody walks in.
�A Family Guy shirt!� No. Way. You like Family Guy? That�s awesome! You are obviously a cutting edge kinda person, so allow me to show you where you can buy fifty more Family Guy products, because you�re obviously such a unique individual!�
Oh, dear lord.
We read from the handbook detailing different scenarios and how we can maximize our kill count. I mean sales. Whatever. The other hire reads aloud slowly and haltingly, and I can only take comfort that I�m getting paid for this.
I�m not getting paid enough.
Then it�s my turn. I�m can read aloud fairly well, with zest and enthusiasm and whatnot, so I began an account of a kid who was very pleased with his first shopping experience with The Company.
�As I was walking through the mall,� I said in a cheery voice, �I was reminded of a store my friend told me about called The Company. When I advanced towards...�
I stopped reading and put the booklet down.
�Is there a problem?� my new supervisor asked.
�Well, yeah,� I said. �You do realize that �towards� is not really the proper usage of the word, right? It�s �toward.� No �S.� Toward. I mean, towards is gaining popularity in usage, but it�s still considered improper slang.�
�Oh, well, I...� she stammered.
�And another thing. I�ve seen a few products that don�t know how to use contractions properly, and I�m just warning you if I see a shipment of shirts that say your when it should be you�re... I�m just saying, prepare to be ridiculed.�
Oh yeah. I�m going to do well at this job.
When I left, I had to open up my backpack for inspection. Yes, that�s right, on the first day of the job, they are searching you to make sure you�re not stuffing your pockets with David Bowie buttons and Nine Inch Nails patches. This procedure, called the pocket and bag check, will happen every time I leave the store, whether it be the end of my shift, or a simple run to the bathroom.
�How was your first day at work?� asked the lesbian when I got home.
I looked shellshocked. Finally, I spoke.
�I think I�m the saddest little monkey there ever was.�
What�s worse is to discover that I was wrong. There�s no parking anywhere on this island, and last night after running errands I had to park way down the road. I parked behind another car and looked up and down the street for signs about restrictions. This morning, I woke up early to move my car nearer to my house. It wasn�t there. Walking a block and a half further up the road, I saw a sign partially covered in ivy, saying the tow away zone began at 6:30 a.m.
This was at 7 a.m.
That�s still not the worst. No, the worst comes from the announcement that there will be a remake of Evil Dead. Taking on Bruce Campbell�s role will be Ashton Kutcher.
And why is this so bad? Because I know they will sell these shirts at my newfound place of employment.
If I�m not fired by the end of the week, anyway.
