Retail Overload

Just worked four nine-hour shifts in a row as a night cashier.  I usually work part-time and my shifts are more spread out so I'm not used to being in the store for so many days in a row.  Here's how that went…

Day 1: Exhausted, just happy if I can survive the shift without falling over.  I vigilantly count the hours until I get to go home and vow to go to bed as soon as I go home.  My tiredness gives me a drug-like numbness that helps me tolerate massive amounts of douchebaggery.

Day 2: Got 7 hours of sleep, which is an improvement.  I feel more well-rested.  The store is very busy, but I work hard and I am more friendly with customers and coworkers.

Day 3: My vow to get better sleep has been ignored again and I get 5 hours of sleep.  However, for some reason I am happy, contemplative and energetic.  The customers are a mix of entitled, ignorant people and attractive men; sometimes a combination.  I treat all of them way better than they deserve.  An indian woman asks me if I hate her, possibly because I didn't help her immediately and because she was being a pain in the ass.  I say "no," but my acting needs work.

Day 4: Everyone is an asshole and if I don't get out of here soon I will kill someone!  A woman asks if she can have a 5 cent plastic bag for free and I say, "I guess."  When she says goodbye I say nothing and give her a look of contempt.  A European woman tells me that cashiers are given chairs to sit on in Europe so their backs don't hurt.  "I bet you didn't know that!" she says, as if she is talking to a child.  She makes no visible effort to change the rules in our store or any Canadian store.  When customers ask for help using the self-checkouts, I try my best not to throw their items onto the carousel as hard as I can.  When I'm finally free, I do not feel joy, but confusion and a profound feeling of disappointment and regret.

At least I'm off for a few days… :)

New poem

I wrote a new poem at 4 am since I couldn't sleep, although I eventually did.  Lately, due to lack of classes and stuff to do, my sleep schedule has been 3 am to 3 pm.  It's exam time right now and all I have left is a vocal jury.  For this exam I sing five pieces for three "judges," which is like American Idol but the songs are better and the judges know what they are talking about.  So all I've been obligated to do is practice an hour every day, if that.  I hope I can go back to normal or somewhat normal soon...

Here is my poem...


Beer:

Cat call in the distance at three am

Someone far away is hot

And someone far away is horny

Decisions made with beer goggles

As you half-sleep in a bubbly, pleasant haze

There’s more evidence for evolution

Than skeletons and theories

I think as I hear a college girl

Shriek just like a chimpanzee

Below on Spruce Street

Far away noises sound so close

They are inside my tiny flat

Invading

How frightening it would be to venture outside so late

On a saturday night

And soak up the stupidity

Violence at the slightest provocation

Passive-aggressive friendliness

Walk past a bar

Would I make it home alive?

The city lights cast a morning glow 

on the trees and the now-grey sky

It looks as if the sun is rising

But, no, I’m still here in my warm, fluffy bed

Half-asleep, half-awake like most nights

When will I escape this vampire’s schedule?

I long for the early mornings of my youth

Seven am, the darkness lingering

Birds chirping, parents yelling,

Reading on the school bus

Innocence, naïveté, thinking life was so difficult then

But it wasn’t

That was just the beginning

The jock population skyrockets after two am

Because nothing good happens then

Birds, maybe robins, singing at four am

Everything is backwards at this hour

And so much more frightening

Terrified of even leaving my room

Down the dark, empty hallway

Maybe I’m just jealous 

I wish I had some friends to be stupid and drunk with

Some men and boys too

Even just some alcohol

A cold glass of beer

To help me sleep

To taste

So bubbly and bittersweet

Pop with a punch

I must imagine my glass of water as a mug of beer

And hope...