Things that happen in a too small town:
Customer: *blahblahdroppedsomethinginthedarktheaterandnowImupsetatyoublahblah*
What’s important to note here is that the entire time this person is upset because an usher cleaned the theater between showings, sweeping her debit card into a mountain of trash (when it should have been in her pocket/wallet/purse) Whereas if my usher hadn’t she would be complaining about the filth she had to watch a movie in and still unable to find her card because she would have then dropped it amongst a river of refuse.
Of course I’m also getting the vague impression that she really just thinks we’re running some kinda long-con to get her debit card....because it’s my master scheme to supplement my managerial wage of $7.50 an hour with whatever paltry amount is nestled within the confines of her checking account. And then she drops the omega bomb in an attempt to bring me over to her side.
Customer: “We went to high school together.”
Yes, we did, I remember you, you never said two words to me. Of course, those were the Best Years Of Your Life, and you seem to remember high school now as some kinda Christmas Morning in Whoville where we all joined hands and sang songs to usher in the day.
Bad Newz....none of that happened, in fact those were four of the worst years of my life. I didn’t go to parties and football games because your kind made sure I knew my place. I didn’t exist on a sunshine diet of McMoments like you and your brethren, and while I’d like to say I’m not bitter I obviously am, because all it took to bring that out was you trying to curry favor with cheap false memories.
Customer: “Aren’t you still at KQ2?”
(No, I left two weeks ago because working two jobs, seven days a week, was ALMOST paying my bills but leaving me no time with those I pay the bills for.)
“I haven’t seen you on the morning show in awhile.”
(That’s because I haven’t been the morning anchor for almost 4 years, but that’s an entirely different tale of philosophical warfare in small market television. But thanks again for being like every job interview I've been on since I got the on-air shank)
“I really liked seeing you in the morning.”
(Really? Because it seems to me you'll take whatever is thrown out there....seriously, this is what the 99% argument is all about, I got put into the “new economy” a few years back while you go about your blissfully ignorant life of comfort built upon the backs of those like me. My wife was told she's "maxed out" on raises and her insurance coverage is going down while the premium is going up. Every aspect of the "American Dream" has been forbidden to us, but by all means I should happily go about providing you the life of comfort you expect to enjoy. Don't worry though, The Occupiers can go f-themselves too, I ain’t too proud to work, but I may be too proud to smile while you fuck the asshole of my soul with no lube and nary a kiss on the lips.)
Thanks for bringing that all back because you think you’re being picked on and there isn’t a back-pocket authority figure to rub your ass and tell you you’re special. You’re not, nobody is, and I resent that some of you get to delude yourselves otherwise.
But if we find your card I’ll make every effort to get it back to you. Not because of some Alma Mater B.S., this ain’t a Beach Boys song; I do it because it’s my job. Now go back to fantasy land, the real adults are working here, and I'll be damned if I go dumpster diving for you.
