faux work persona’s

June 2, 2006 at 1:30 pm (Relating to Work)

OK,

being that I'm 23 years old, and have been working in an office setting for the last 1.5 years, i've gotten used to this, but it's making me a very bitter person because of it.

The "it" I am referring to, is the fake conversations, fake laughter, and altogether fake persona that comes with being in an office.

Now, for those of you who aren't sure what i'm talking about, think back to when you've ever associated with older folk…  Whether it be while folding clothes at the gap, washing their cars, mowing their lawns, or whatever your shitty summer job was, you have been forced to endure this as well.

Take this as an example:

Working as a cashier at (name any convenience store, merchandise retailer, etc.) you get this statement upon completing the scanning of said item(s):

"oh, now you want money from me?"

or even,

"what's the damage?"

you've been forced by society to put on a half-smile, make a semi-chuckle, and all the while, lose a little bit of your soul.  Your actual thought maybe something like this:

"Wow, so original, DICK"

or even,

"If i hear this again, i might jab that pen that you are using to sign the credit card authorization, through your neck repeatedly"

or worse,

"ok, that seals it, I'm going to climb to the roof of this place, and attempt to take a running leap into a Rodney Dangerfield triple lindy onto a shopping cart and an unsuspecting old italian lady with a bag over her head"

By the end of the day, you are restraining yourself from commiting a possible death-by-bludgeoning, just so you can whore yourself out for the paycheck at the end of the week.

Well, I just spent half an hour at a conference table, forced to listen to stories about crockpots, (still not certain what the hell that is) Old People Dietary Methods, and of course, conversations about people's kids.

Really, please, tell me more.  Don't worry about me phasing out, or systematically destroying every brain cell by bashing my head into this table right here… Please, tell me more about your son's cooking boiled spaghetti.

Why did i do this to myself?  Because I'm a dirty, dirty, paycheck-needing whore.

Yes, my boss was there.  Yes, her boss was there. 

And yes, my soul is worth $20 an hour, and all self-respectabilty.

On the bright side, It is drinking money….

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2 Comments

  1. R BO said,

    Could not have said it better myself. As a participant at said lunch at the conference table, I can only imagine how long the older folk have been going on doing this for. Have their lives turned into such a shithole that they think this is acceptable?

    Or are they thinking….”I can care less about your kids smoking pot in the woods around a bon fire?” Nah, they most likely go home and tell their husbands that so and so’s kid cooks…WHY CANT OURS!?!?!?!?!?!

    While the paycheck helps, you should consider how much of that $20 and hour is spent listening to these conversations and try to figure out if it is worth your soul and first born.

  2. C M E said,

    I told you a crockpot is an easy bake oven. Ha ha ha.
    Good lord. I really don’t know what to say because they have already said it all.
    My only pointer is don’t let your kid sign up for myspace because they will move out of state to live with their online significant other!

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