Denny O�Neil, �Daredevil: Love�s Labors Lost�
I mentioned in that last monthy roundup that all my belongings are in massive piles. Hence the second Daredevil title in a row. I�m pretty sure there was something else that I read in between but damned if I can figure out what it was. If I come across whatever it was that I think I read, I�ll fix the order. I wasn�t really planning to talk about this book anyway.
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So after all the tourist-related excursions The nightclub that I work at decided to open for a fourth night, this time under the heading Re/Mix. The flyer said �All your old favorites with a new twist!�
I had no idea what that meant. What it turned out to be was pop hits like the Madonna, Britney Spears and U2 remixed to have a thumping house beat.
Yes, it�s as awful as it sounds. The guy behind the turntables is the same guy who hosts the 80s night, so thank christ I didn�t hear Ghostbusters with a kickin� beat.
This was the first time the late night shift at the club had any bearing on my school. I have early classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and the club used to be open only on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday nights. So I guess I shouldn�t have been surprised when the alarm went off five hours later, I somehow managed to shut it off and go back to sleep with no memory of doing so. I woke up just as the class was ending.
�Fuck,� I muttered. Not so much because I had missed the class, but because it was time for me to go work at The Company.
I was still dead tired, and wanted to stay in bed. I would be working again at the bar that night, meaning I was looking at a 15 hour workday. I planned on quitting The Company anyway, so why not just stop going? Besides, They aren�t paying me enough to even keep me in cigarettes, and I just missed a class that cost me over a thousand dollars. More so, since I had to put it on a credit card and I haven�t been able to pay that off, obviously. Something has to give, and it may as well be the lowest paying job that I hate.
I kept repeating these arguments as I pedaled my way to the mall. I don�t know why I have such a Protestant Work ethic. I don�t even know any Protestants.
Still tired and loopy and needing coffee, I couldn�t remember what time I was supposed to start work. It was noon, and I was pretty sure I started at 12:30 but I had a nagging feeling that wasn�t correct. I decided to check in first. The manager was there and I asked what time my shift started.
�You were supposed to be here at 11:30,� she said.
My jaw dropped, hands clenching up into fists, eyes blazing. Goddamn it, I could have just stayed home. I�m not used to this. I�m used to being the star employee, the one everybody can count on. Christ, wehn I broke my collarbone on my birthday, I still showed up at work the next day, before I went to the hospital. I suppose I do all this because I�ve had so many people in my life who expected me to be a fuck up. And even with this shitty job that I hate, I still feel like I should be reliable and responsible.
There�s an added caveat to my work ethic as well. When I turn out to be the best worker they have or have ever seen, that means I get a hell of a lot more leeway in my obnoxiousness. Now I don�t have the zen balance of sarcastic asshole vs. productive worker. Here comes the added documentation.
Instead, the manager, the head person for this store, starts waving her hands and conspiratorially whispering to me. �No, it�s OK, don�t worry about it, I�ll change the schedule, and you�ll work until six instead of five-thirty.� She took the schedule out, found some white-out and completely altered the schedule for my benefit, which I assume is a violation of whatever other policies they don�t let the lower-level minions see.
She did all this to save my neck, because she knew if district managers noticed the discrepancy between schedule and login hours, I would have to be written up. And, considering it would be my second write-up in less than a month, I would probably be fired.
She wants me to stay with The Company. Presumably forever.
And ever.
And ever.
I now know it�s mandatory that I quit.
