Ryan woke to a day full of interviews. He couldn’t believe we drank all of 5 pitchers of beer the night before. I told him I wasn’t surprised. I would have been surprised had we not drank all 5 pitchers of beer; we had been drinking heavily for all 3 days before the pitcher event. Feats such as this are trivial and only matter to one’s pocket book, and bragging rights. In any case, I can certainly out-drink you.
I woke the next day with a moderate hang over and a slight stomach ache.
Then you think… The day that social media dies how many people will go back into their caves and exist without even being noticed.
I use my phone less and less to actually speak with people. More so to update my status; I am not married, I make less than rich people, and I have an Associates Degree in Art. I am probably just to the left of the Standard Deviation, less than one Deviation, maybe a half…
How did people in the past exist without being in constant contact with everyone in the world?
The more people I follow on social media sites the less people I know. Yet, I feel if I know everyone then everyone will know me. I feel nothing is a big deal. I miss the people I used to know. The more we know the less we know. The wiser we are the more we realize that we don’t really know very much at all, other than work and play. We are all just kids with chores at the core, looking to get paid more. The phone rings we answer, they ask questions we answer, they tell us pay, and then we answer with money.
But the NSA knows this, I already told Daniel over the phone…
I said, “Bombs, Guns, Violence, Whistleblowers, Anonymous, and kittens.”
All that fun stuff. Maybe people just over react because they don’t interact.
I will be going to school in the fall because I need an education to exit a job that I don’t desire, and to get one that I feel is acceptable. To pay bills, to exist as a human being, in a social context-as a successful human being, apparent. I want to impress, to dress in the finest that fabric and tailors have to offer, drive fancy cars, and live in a big house. A permanent vacation. I want that and I want realism as well-seems oxymoronic. I want to show off my expensive possessions made by the most professional and authentic whatever’s. I want to exist and watch Fight Club and read Slaughter House Five and drink tumblers of whisky on the rocks and smoke copious expensive and rare cigarettes (minus the tax) and talk down to critics, instead of putting on a bullshit act. Stuff like that. Stuff like, not being stuck in the back getting told what to do kind of gig. Then again, I wouldn’t mind doing what I do right now forever. All that stuff would just be an adjunct.
Showing up in uniform. Blue shirt, black pants, black shoes, shaved face, fucking smiling and showing people where to sit, and bringing them water, and telling them specials-asking, “Would you like this, sir” and, “Would you like this ma’am?” repeatedly for hours on end. White shirt, white hat, same black pants, no holiday, no sick pay, no pension. Standing in old shoes, falling apart from the inside out, as I am-hardly able to stand. Watching the door, and while I do not watch I listen. There has been a point made; I have to.
Customers, I have been told, do not fall from the sky. What a novel idea, I would have never thought of that. So happy to be taught lessons daily. One wouldn’t want me to teach lessons. I am so graciously humbled.
At a moment’s notice the tide can change, in a matter of 2 seconds 20 people can be up on you asking, poking, prodding, and examining your every move, for the slightest mistake. Why did you say this when I told you to say that? I show up for the soup and the culture, apparently Greeks hate all ideas they did not think up themselves, and ‘nothing under the sun is new.’ I believe that last one more than the first, but these ideas are getting very similar. “We don’t use the word sir here…” I am told. “Did you forget?”
In the cold I would show up late most days, as in the warm. In the hot heat of July I show up on time because of AC. The weather in the summer is much different in Minnesota. In the winter I showed up to work early one day, 10 to 15 minutes early, only to find the doors locked. It was negative 20 out-give or take a few degrees, and I had to piss my pants. I almost did, but I decided to walk to the Aveda Institute, as I am a regular customer, and-they have rather good complementary tea for waiting customers-get a tea. I walked in the glass doors with a true passion; my pants were about to be soaked by my weak bladder. All that coffee. I walked into the restroom, unzipped, pissed, looked in the mirror. Took note of all the other mirrors while exiting the bathroom, and walked straight to the teapot. Small cup, I thought, they should be bigger. Luckily it was early, luckily it was warm inside; luckily it was across the street. I will never come to work early again. The tea at Aveda was great, as usual.