Sunday, April 25, 2010

"...the strawberries are strawberry sized and not cantaloupe sized...sir"

SO it has been a few days after my deadline for figuring out what I wanted to do with my little life. So far I have had many ideas but still unable to decide on one. I now want to be any of the following:

A glassblower
A metalworker who makes awesome stuff
A silversmith who makes awesome stuff
A coffeeshop owner who is mad chill all day
A bar owner (a dark, moody little place) with an apartment above it.
A bakery owner that has an apartment above it that I live in.
A cake decorator
The advertising person at GarlicValley Farms
A ceramic snail maker who listens to Rush in the garage all day
A professional organizer who goes wherever
A furniture designer that makes awesome stuff
A coffee taster and critic who is sought after.
or a vagabond who lives in the forest.

This is huge progress by the way, but the only jobs that are available and that I have applied for have been the following:

Photographer of snotnosed children at LifeTouch Studios
Teller at a Credit Union
Market Development at a screenprinting place
The advertising person at GarlicVally Farms
and Head Blogger for Alicia Keys talking about women's rights and junk all day.
and other things not interesting enough for me to remember. (monster.com didn't even keep track of them so you know they are godawful.)
They were various receptionists positions.


I have one match though which is hopeful. The advertising person at GarlicVally farms! I think that would be fun. But yeah probably not going to happen because I think they are looking for an older person because the work is so slow and easy. But we shall see.

Meanwhile in the beautiful meantime, I have been going into my cushy fruit job everyday with a slight big fat hankering to walk out or either punch the Kraken "up under her froat" as it often says about whoever its talking about. Here is a snapshot of what sort of thing has been happening in the meantime:

Amanda was speaking with a customer trying to take an order. Amanda asked the customer her name so she could get the order placed and for some unknown reason this offended the customer in such a way that Amanda got verbally accosted for about ten minutes. Apparently the customer thought we were supposed to know who she was by the sound of her voice through the phone.

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHO I AM? YOU SHOULD HAVE MY PICTURE HANGING UP IN YOUR STORE RIGHT NOW SO YOU CAN SEE MY FACE EVERYDAY! YOU SHOULD HAVE MY PICTURE IN YOUR WALLET AND SEE ME IN YOUR DREAMS AT NIGHT! YOU GONNA SEE MY FACE IN YOUR WINDOW WHEN YOU'RE TRYING TO SLEEP! YOU SHOULD KNOW WHO I AM!"

Oh my Lord. Help us in this fruit shop.

Poor Amanda! I know I don't really like her that much but I would rather her not get yelled at by some crazy ghetto lunatic.
Understandably, Amanda still didn't know who this customer was so she asked the lunatic to spell her last name.

"OH YOU STUPID BITCH DON'T KNOW HOW TO SPELL NEITHER?"

Poor Amanda! The girl is only seventeen and the lunatic is making her lip quiver and giving her a lump in her throat. Amanda puts the lunatic on hold and comes in the back and asks one of us to finish the order for the nice lady on the phone. The Kraken looks at Amanda with the ugliest Kraken scowl and tells her she better get off her ass and do some work around here and suck it up and finish talking with the customer herself because she is not doing any work for her. (The Kraken isn't even allowed to answer the phone anyway. I don't know why she was so angry.) I think the woman on the phone was the Kraken's mom or something. I don't know.

So yeah. Fruit shops are hostile environments. I didn't know and I bet you didn't either. Maybe all workplaces are hostile because the majority of customers everywhere are HORRIBLE PEOPLE! If you are a decent person, I thank you. All fruit shop workers thank you.

Oh yeah- and this one guy got mad at me because the strawberries were not as tall as cantaloupe slices when they were put on skewers. I had to give him a box of strawberries for free to get him to stop crying.

"Sir, there is the same amount of fruit as the arrangement you see in the flyer, the strawberries are just strawberry sized and not cantaloupe sized....sir."

"Did you make this? I just want you to know that I know you are cheating me, and I want you to know. I'm not going to do anything about it, I just want you to know."

"Sir, I am not cheating you out of anything, strawberries are just not as tall as slices of cantaloupe. The strawberries are strawberry sized...." (?)

He looks at me angrily for about 48 minutes without a word.

"Let me go see if I can't do something for you..."

I dip a box of beautiful, free strawberries (strawberry sized strawberries) and gift wrap them for him because I am a pushover and he leaves ...but not before he tells me one last time that I cheated him.

Just crazy.

Just as this crazy guy leaves, Frank the delivery driver comes in and the Kraken puts on her fake happy masks and yells "FRANKY! Franky's here!"
I hate her.
Frank isn't that bright of a ray of sunshine either. He is an asshole to most people. He is about eighty years old and with that comes a bitter attitude to all the "youngsters" trying to "take his job". Everyone except me apparently. For some reason he likes me okay and told the owner how great I am. I've never spoken to him in the three months I've been there. I decided to say good morning to him this morning.

"Good morning, Frank."

Frank looks in my direction and scowlgrowls. He looks at me a few seconds longer. With his weird boston accent he says "Oh Hello! I thought you were that idiot, Amanda!"

"No sir, it's me, the idiot Samantha." I go back to typing the rest of the order that I was editing on the computer because I don't want to talk to Frank anymore because he is an asshole. Frank surprisingly continues to talk.

In his low, growly voice he asks me "Well how are you doing today, miss?" I look up to answer him. Maybe he is not such a angry old man. My eyes met his and the bastard winked at me.

Don't wink at me.
Don't wink at me.
Don't. Wink. At. Me.

So after this day I decided to continue to go into the fruitshop everyday. The more horrible the customers and the workers become, the more motivated I am to come home and look for jobs and write cover letters and work on my portfolio. The fruit job instills its own motivation for me. It is helping me both stay there while helping me leave.

















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