I feel old.

Ah, I am free. I am sitting in my boyundies. Maybe I’ll put my shorts on later. I couldn’t find my copy of CCR’s Chronicle I yesterday, so I put in the first disc of Physical Graffiti. Since then, I’ve had Kashmir stuck in my head, and am still listening to it.

A girl came in today and asked for an application. She also asked how old you had to be to work. She said she’s be 15 in September. GM said she’d have to be 16. Tracy and I reflected that she didn’t look 14, she looked at least 16, and 17 at the most. As a delayed reaction, I realized something: I am ten years older than this girl.

There’s seriously something wrong with that. This isn’t right, and it isn’t fair, damn it! Not that many years ago, while it wouldn’t have been proper, it wouldn’t have been that bad to lust after a 14 year old. But now? Shit, that’s asking for a jail sentence! NO FAIR. Is it my fault 14 year old females can be that, well, developed? Whatever. It’s not like I’d bother with a minor, it’s just disorientating, and I know how judgemental people can be.

Our GM, who is a mother in her 30’s said, “I’ll pretend I’m not hearing this.” Ha ha. I’ll assume she knows my character better than that.

Speaking of questionable situations, a cute girl orders, right? Now I notice this constantly, and I know how to make eye contact and otherwise not stare at a girl as she walks away. Jordan and Marcos are leaning against the counter. Marcos is this hilarious hispanic kid. He glances at the girl, looks at me, and smiles. I shake my head. Did I write about the time he pointed out a girl eating, and said to me, “Do you like the big boobies?” Like I said, hilarious odd hispanic kid.

So our GM says to us, “Gentlemen, our counter has been tested to be quite sturdy, we don’t need all three of you leaning over it. Only Tim is the one who should be on the front counter.” Or something like that.

Usual shit today. I always wondered why people coming into Panera asked if we accepted 100 dollar bills. (We did. I remember the morning a guy waited while I got my manager to break it, as it was early morning and the drawer was fresh.) Nobody ever asks us if we accept them. Instead, they throw a hissyfit that we don’t. It’s perplexing. I really don’t care if customers get upset, it’s just store policy. At least we have a credit system now, which is sometimes handy. “I’m sorry you don’t accept real money.” “What, can’t you count that high?” Obnoxious.

I think to myself a lot, “These are the people making more money than me?” Strange world we live in.

What else…

I woke up this morning at 7 AM. It was glorious. Reminds me, I need to intake more water now. I tend to intake zero water while I work so I don’t have to pee. I AM IN CONTROL OF MY URINE OUTPUT.