Emo in the Casino
As if the smoke that’s slowly infiltrating my body and laying tar across the lining of my lungs wasn’t bad enough, everyone else seems to be doing just fine. I walked into work the other day and found out that two people on my team had been promoted to better positions. Then, one of my coworkers took out his wallet in front of me, opened it up, and pulled out a ten dollar bill, waving it in front of my face and smiling so wide I could see every one of his yellow teeth. He bragged that he had received that money as a tip from one of the customers. He and I never get tipped, although when we were first hired we were told we would be. Then the gaming director changed his tune and told us our positions had the possibility of being tipped. Well, sure, if you want to say it that way, every position in any job has the possibility of being tipped. You could tip your accountant or the cashier at Blockbuster but most people don’t.
“God is good,” he told me with his buttery mouth.
That was not something I wanted to hear, as me and the G-man aren’t on good terms right now.
Not only that, but a lady won fifteen thousand dollars during the night and literally two minutes later, her husband won ten thousand dollars. Needless to say, they were pretty happy.
At the end of the shift, I asked one of my coworkers who got promoted if she liked her new position better.
“I love it better,” she replied.
Well, good for you.
Paper cuts, ya know? Paper cuts.
It just sucks to be surrounded by happy people when I feel like I am slowly suffocating both physically, emotionally and spiritually. It’s like being stuck inside a glass box that’s slowly filling up with water and everyone on the outside is yucking it up and going about their merry way while I shriek and pound on the glass and no one notices or no one cares to. Everyone is just so oblivious.
Plus, the ten-dollar tipped guy with the sulfur smile is so patronizing to me. I suppose he sees himself as above me because he makes more money and because my job is basically bitch work. He’s always so quick to say, “Oh, Brannon you’re doing such a good job around here.” I can push up chairs in a straight line. Thanks so much for telling me I do it well. Jerk. And he tells our supervisor, “Brannon’s the head customer service guy here. He knows what the hell he’s doing.” I know that sounds pretty nice but it’s his cadence, his inflection, his sliminess that corrupts the compliments. What really ticks me off is the fact that I think he thinks I’m pretty stupid and we all know that I hate to be made to feel stupid and I hate for other people to think I’m stupid. Just because I have such a low-end position doesn’t mean I’m unintelligent. Crap, maybe I am unintelligent but he shouldn’t deem me as dumb just because of what I do. Just because I have to scrape soot from ashtrays doesn’t mean I’m not worthy of your respect, you douche lord.
In other news, I started applying for jobs once again. It’s such a frustrating process because the only jobs that are ever offered are those of the manual labor, chicken deboning or medical variety. Oh, three of my favorite things! And all the office jobs require you to have all these years of experience, which I don’t have. I simply can’t catch a break. I keep applying, regardless. I also applied for different jobs that were advertised within the company, including a bar back/bartender. I wasn’t too sure what a bar back was but I thought I’d give it a shot, reasoning that it couldn’t be much worse than what I was already doing. How silly of me to think such things. It could always be worse. Shouldn’t I know that by now? I got called into the bar manager’s office and he went on to tell me that he was restructuring the bar (things change just about every ten minutes at this company) and that he wasn’t in need of a bar back but that he would bring me on as a bartender’s apprentice. I’d start out stocking soda and then serve coffee and eventually work my way up to alcohol. I’m completely anti-alcohol so I wasn’t thrilled with this job description but I was so desperate to get out of my current situation that I blurted out, "Sounds great to me, thanks!" It’s sad that I have to contiually compromise my principles like that but I have to do what’s necessary at this point. I’ve sacrificed a lot to work here. I drive an hour and a half to and from work. I work in a smoke-filled environment (I’m also anti-smoking) and I’m generally uncomfortable all the time but this job was seriously the only decent opportunity to get out of my crap town so I had to take it. I just told myself all these sacrifices would be worth it one day. I’m having second thoughts.
A few days pass by and the bar manager told me he had placed me on his schedule. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing I had escaped customer service slavedom. I start on New Year’s Eve. While I’m excited that I won’t have to scrape soot or clean up after disgusting people, I’m still not excited about what I’m doing. I am looking forward to just working with the servers and not with the general public. It’s not a typical bar like you’d imagine. Really, it’s just a hole in the wall where the beverage servers go to pick up the drinks for the customers who are sitting. Sometimes a random customer will come in and order something but those occasions are usually few and far between and I’m glad for that. I’d much rather work with my peers instead of the filthy public. Plus, I was told it would be a pay increase. And I’ll actually be getting tips this time. So, that’s a plus.
Basically, I’m just hoping this position doesn’t suck as much as customer service because I really just want to work my way over to being a point of sale clerk, which is basically handing customer’s their winnings in cash. It’s easy and it pays pretty well. And it’s not that I’m lazy but this job is only to support my continued ventures into animation. I can’t even think straight when I get off work now, much less be creative and work on animation. The work is literally too physically exhausting. But, if I was a point of sale clerk, I would sit in a chair and work a cash register for eight hours. Sounds pretty sweet to me! It’s not that I’m lazy, I’m just trying to concentrate on my hopefully eventual career. That position wouldn’t be as tiresome and I really feel like I’d be able to get off work and pick up a pencil and start drawing right after.
Plus, I’m not trying to change over jobs so soon. If I were to do that and get a new job, that would mean three jobs in three months and that does not look good on my resume. Also, since I am among the first employees, I have seniority over everyone else. That could really help out if a point of sale position ever opens up and I apply for it. Ya know, as much as I want to jump ship, I really am trying to be practical. I don’t want to do anything too drastic or irrational just because I’m miserable. I don’t want to get myself out of a sticky situation right now only to cause more problems down the road.
I’m going to be a freaking bartender? Can you believe that crap?