What do you mean, “died”?

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Opening weekend for Pirates of the Caribbean On Stranger Tides. If you work at a movie theater that means *headbash*.

Kind of an unruly last week or so.

Last Monday our second in command to the GM (with 30 years in service) had a heart attack after his shift.
I worked with him that morning. On Wednesday at 1am on my way home after my shift I get a text from Andrea:

Andrea: "So is everyone sad?"
Me: "Sad? Why?"
"Because of Steve."
"What? What happened to Steve?"
"Oh my gosh! You don’t know! I’m so sorry babe."
"WHAT HAPPENED TO STEVE"
"He died."
"…."
"…"
"What do you mean, died? Because I just worked with him."
"He had a heart attack. They didn’t call you?"
"….um NO."

Steve basically ran our major theater along with the GM. Our loyal customers knew him pretty well and people who have worked at the theater for a while obviously were very close with him. I’ve only known him a few months – I worked with him three days a week in the morning weekday shifts – but wasn’t particularly close with him. Honestly he was a little intimidating. Always reminded me of a walrus due to his half handle-bar grey mustache and kind of tall portly stature. Always called me Alyssa after a girl that worked at the theater a year ago.

But we had our moments. And to see someone today and find out they died tonight. *poof* …………………………………………..

It’s weird to me to think, Steve is not alive. As in no longer living. 

So last week was pretty depressing. Lana, the manager that opened with Steve every weekday, was a bit of a wreck (as was our GM. She’d worked with Steve for at least 20 years). It was awkward to have customers come in and say: "What do you mean you don’t refill these anymore? Where’s Steve. I’ll ask him." "Um, Steve’s…not in today. I can call another manager for you." "No, I’ll ask Steve next time."

or the customer that has a summer home here and is "good friends" with Steve. I didn’t want to break the news to him as a stranger, so I said nothing.

That Saturday we had a previously scheduled Employee meeting at 8am. It was also prom and it seemed like half our staff was still in high school (all our new hires are minors* and wanted to go along with some of our old minor staff) and wanted to go, so me and a few others offered to take doubles.

At the end of the meeting they made the announcement about Steve. Most of us – girls – cried. Our GM made the announcement but left shortly after to compose herself. A manager made a "we will all look out for each other" speech. And then "ok, openers you have to go." Such a depressing way to start my 8am-11pm shift.

So that was last week.

THIS week:

Thursday I had soccer at 7pm and the midnight Pirates (shift: 10pm-2am). Soccer was surprisingly fun. I mean I always have fun, but usually my complete and utter deterioration in athleticism over the years embarrasses me. I’m on an 18-30yo team, and although I’m one of the youngest, I’m also super out of shape. Had to take my inhaler along last week. But this week, I played forward (less running, especially since we’re not very great and spend a lot of time on defense) and rocked pretty damn hard. Even my teammates (probably mostly being nice) noticed and called me out. Not that I scored any goals, but I’m a great passer (because I have no kick and thus no shot on goal).

 [Last week was hilarious. We are a scrappy team with just yellow tshirts as our jerseys and numbers drawn on or taped on. We lost our first game 6-0. When we got to the field the other team is wearing legitimate matching uniforms and practicing shots on goal. In lines. Like a real team. We’re getting slaughtered. It was funny. Felt like a Disney movie where we were the underdog hard luck poor kids taking on the well trained rich kids. They also had probably had 20 lbs each on us. We actually weren’t killed. Lost only 4-2, and one of their goals was a bog

us penalty kick.]

 

After Thursday’s game (fun but lost our goalie after first half and so we were blown out the second half) I drove home, showered, and dragged my way to work where I was met with a leak in our breakroom. It was kind of a blessing since I was exhausted and got to spend about 40 minutes throwing paper towels on the ground and picking them up (soaked) in a continuous cycle until our handyman was called around midnight.

I worked a double yesterday (12-12) which is an entry in itself. Let’s just say it involved Vomit Girl, Nacho Cheese, and We Always Get These Pizzas for Free. Trust Us.

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