Boy, do I have some Tales to Tell...
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
 
I can now cross off "Walk from 92nd Street to 24th Street" of my To Do list. Thank goodness.

For the first six hours of work, it took every ounce of humanity in me not to bash anyone over the head for asking stupid questions. I think people were purposefully avoiding me when they got a glimpse of my face. Some of my co-workers would come over and ask if I was okay. Others would just look in fear from a distance as I worked. The few that I am good friends with would just come over and give me a hug. Needless to say, after walking 90 minutes in the freezing cold only to work on my feet for 8.5 hours drained me of any compassion for people in general (let alone the striking Transit workers who make double what I make, may they rot in hell with their kin).

Around 7:30pm, as we began the last phase of our shift, I took on the task of restocking the water aisle; the very-heavy-gallons-of-water water aisle. Let's just say, I need to take out some more agression by throwing around cases of spring water. I'm in a frenzy of activity when this lady, probably in her 40's, comes up to me and says, "I just want to thank you for coming in. I know it wasn't easy to get here and work, but I want to say thanks for watching out for people like me." I stood there for a second, smiled at her, and said she was welcome. I suddenly felt tired but not as angry.

Maybe the Christmas spirit does still exist. Later.
 
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Eating up the City before it eats me up. I'm a freelance cook who spends his free time working out, cooking for "my man", and wondering why the Right is so concerned about my bedroom.

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