Today really wasn't the day to put me into situations with customer service expectations. By any objective standard, today's shift at the Gap was no better or worse than any other. They'll never know it, and nothing dramatic happened, but I hated each and every customer that came to my register today.
"Your total comes to $186.59."
I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes of every Panda that wouldn't screw to save its species.
"Would you like to open a Gap charge account today?"
I wanted to open the dump valves on oil tankers and smother all the French beaches I'd never see.
"Have a great afternoon."
I wanted to breathe smoke.
Before going in to the Gap this morning, I went to the West Ottawa Schools administration building. I had filled out their fucking application with its extra fucking supplemental writing responses, and tailored a new fucking cover letter to their advertised opening. And the old bitch behind the counter told me that it was an old posting that the webmaster should have gotten rid of, and with 5000 people applying to be substitutes there's no way they could accept any more. As far as she was concerned, I could have been hit by an errant school bus on the way out of the parking lot and she would not have given a good God-Damn.
This rejection, followed immediately by my consolation job at the Gap, put into stark focus just how much I hate my life right now.
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2 comments:
Man, if only we could find you a job where your only duty would be to quote Fight Club.
Well, I was in an angry and self-destructive mood, and quotes from Fight Club kept popping into my head. Quoting them seemed like a better alternative than carrying them out.
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