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| Six shifts and counting...It's the end of an era that feels like an eon.5 years doesn't look like a lot of time on paper, but when you've hated your job for more than half that time, it seems like an eternity.It's the longest I've ever worked at one place.I should have gotten out a long time ago, but a combination of laziness, procrastination and loyalty made it all but impossible to leave until this very moment.Ironically, the event that made it a necessity was out of my control.Who knows how much longer I would have been a fly in the vaseline (oh shit, I just got caught quoting Weiland again, fuck!)if my ol' lady didn't drop me like a flaming spud?I'm ecstatic about my impending departure, but I still feel a bit weird about things.Maybe it's because of those six remaining shifts.Or maybe it's because I just spent a cool grand on a new computer and working two weeks beyond those half-dozen shifts would nearly pay for it.At least, in due time, I'll be receiving that "Republicans are cool again...vote for us!" dough soon, but my cursed numbers put me in the final category, meaning that I may not get my funny money until I return from Bonnaroo--the fabulous rock festival with the funny name.Speaking of which, I still have no idea how I'm getting to Manchester, TN.Maybe I should call Arrested Development.The "Tennessee" rap collective, not the pivotal television program.How do you call a sitcom anyway?It's not like Larry King (thankfully, although I hear Jeffrey Tambor likes to mix Garlique and Viagra).For the record, I enjoy Speech and?the rest of the rap AD, but I'd much rather hitch a ride with?George Michael Bluth.Catching a plane would be?as costly as driving my happy ass there at this point.I saw a little thread on the?festival's website for people trying to find rides to the middle of nowhere, but I didn't see anybody on there from Tucson or anywhere?else in Phoenix, for that matter.And although I can handle my shit, the thought of riding halfway across the country with a complete stranger doesn't?quite tickle my fancy.I saw the Hitcher remake.Okay, I didn't.I'd actually rather be raped and murdered (and have my fancy tickled?)by a hitchhiker than watch that crap.If anyone has any ideas, I'd love?to hear them.I suppose I could catch a Greyhound, but I've done that before and it was no picnic.Unless your picnic was ruined by a bunch of smelly hobos and ex-cons instead of ants.In fact, I think even Mr. Wendel himself was on one of those?god forsaken buses.Listening to Rage Against the Machine while in the midst of a severe?case of senioritis is not very healthy.?I'm chomping at the bit to?bust out of my rusty cage and run (Johnny Cash version) while Zach De La Rocha is screaming in my ear about rebellion and anarchy, and subsequently, the same question is on seemingly never-ending repeat on my brain's?CD player: "Why am I still here, again?"And I have an answer for you.It's not a very exciting one, but it's the simple truth.I'm working to get one more paycheck.And who's?to say that I shouldn't work a couple more weeks and get one more?If this was year two, I'd do it in a heartbeat, but this is year five.5 years.That's longer than high school.Longer than a presidential term.Only slightly shorter than Pauly Shore's "career".I have nothing against Mr. Shore, to be honest with you.Well, he's a bit douchey at times, but not any more so?than most other celebrities.I?just couldn't think of anybody else.I actually considered saying "Jesse Camp", but his fifteen minutes lasted about...a quarter of an hour.But nonetheless, five years is a long fucking time.As an inherent lazy?ass, I deserve a medal honor for sticking around this long.Dave Grohl would be proud.(And Kurt would call me a "sellout")
...to be continued... |
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Last Updated ( Thursday, 17 July 2008 )
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