Last Day!

It's finally here. My last day at the bookstore.

I thought people were supposed to be sad when they left a job, but I'm really happy about it. I can't wait to not have to deal with customers' stupid questions and complaints. I won't miss the literature nerds who expect me to know every obscure author (or simply pick obscure authors to try to make themselves sound smarter). Even with the more well-known writers, there are always those who want to discuss authors' works with me while I'm trying to work. "Did you know that Vonnegut got his start writing science fiction for magazines?" Sure I did. But I really don't care. And I'm not impressed that you knew that.

I also don't care about your fad diet. I'm sorry Atkins didn't work for you. No, I don't know if the Zone is any better. No, I don't know if the Biblical diet is really based on scripture (What Would Jesus Eat?). Yes, we have the caveman diet book; it tells you to hunt squirrels in your back yard with a stick and eat them raw.

I sure as hell won't miss having to chase stinking homeless people out of our restrooms. Why choose a bookstore as a place to bathe in the sink? You're scaring the children. Get out.

Speaking of children, the childrens' reading events have to be the most horrible torture ever devised for book clerks. Look, they're three and four years old. They aren't going to pay attention to these boring stories written by new age parenting experts that are supposed to teach them complicated life lessons. No wonder they wander off and pee on the floor somewhere.

I figure all these folks telling me to pass on this television job don't remember what it's like to work at a McJob. I'm glad to be getting the hell out.

One more day. Just one more day.