ALL WORK
I sat behind the counter of the EZ Mart. the night is Saturday. I'm working until 6 a.m. Where once I would be out enjoying the nightlife, I was sitting behind the counter.
The bell on the door chimed, announcing a new customer. I smile and have to hold it. The new customer is my ex Mr. Relationship. He wasn't alone.
They were in the mist of club-hopping. They had once been an item. One was at least visiting. Both were so happy.
I was happy making money. Sure, I sacrificed weekends, but I can say I'm not broke. Besides after all the John/Glenn/Mr. Spiritual drama, I didn't really want to be out and about.
As I watched Mr. Relationship run off to another little adventure, I found myself sighing. I was a 24 year old at a gas station job (with another job at a deli). I wondered: was it worth it?
THE DELI
We all worry about not having money. There isn't much that can be done without it. For me, I needed it to not only pay various bills, but also a nice quaint $450.00 per month basement apartment. Because my credit is bad, I cannot move anywhere in town.
I originally worked full time at the deli. In the two years that I've been there, I can say I lived a lot. From the original gang to my depression over Mr. Aries to various hair color changes, my experiences at the deli resulted in something unexpected: I became responsible and got respect for a job. I actually loved it, the customers, and the respect from others. Where once I would clock in and do the work, followed by leaving and club-hopping...I went, did the best job I could, and left to relax at home.
Sadly, I started to have drama of the homophobic kind with two of the new managers. Add on the fact they were irresponsible drug addicts and my work environment became a place I did not want to be at. After much torment from them, I decided to reduce my hours. As the best worker and most experienced front worker, my loss caused a less and constantly-changing staff to pick up the workload. They still struggle.
THE GAS STATION
With a lot of free time on my hands, my homework improved. However, I had to get back to work. I realized then how I had changed. Where once it didn't worry me to not work (more time to party), now I had to think of bills. So I went on a job search.
Note: If you see any HELP WANTED signs and the manager won't talk to you...they are not interested. Move on.
After a month, I went into the EZ Mart up the street from my apartment. Got a job in five minutes. I became the 3rd shift worker.
3rd Shift? As in graveyard?
Yes. It was something I was used to since I was a host at a Perkins family restaurant in Jonesboro.
After a few weeks, I got the hang of it. Like at the deli, I could do my job well. When I was off, no one else could do it better. Seeing customers and workers happy to see me made me feel proud of the work I was doing. It made me feel important...and I liked it.
LEFT BEHIND
Then I would have times when someone I knew would walk in. It was usually someone from my wild partying time...which was growing farther and farther from my mind as time went on. It made me think of the wild times, the flings, Mr. Aries. Those were great times that I did miss, but had no time to make new ones.
Glenn would call every weekend to see if I was off work. Of course, I wasn't. And then people...guys...were actually asking about me at the club. I didn't even think anyone cared.
So the thought came to mind. While I was busy making money, was I missing out on life?
AND NOW SOME PLAY
My birthday came around. And as has been my tradition as I grow older, I took the week off. To everyone else, I was traveling Arkansas. To me and Glenn, I was only club-hopping.
I did with hesitation. It had been months since I last went out. Did I even know how to have fun anymore?
*s* I shouldn't have wondered. I was such the make-out slut that weekend. And while it was fun, I came to the realization that it really wasn't my scene anymore.
That shocked me.
I never thought it would happen, but it had. I had outgrown the scene. Yes, I had fun, but I would prefer to have traveled out of town, gone to dinner, or go to sleep rather than go out. Best of all, I did all of this with money that I had work my ass off to get in my pocket. I've never felt so vindicated about myself before.
I was proud.
So...is the job worth it? While my goal is still to write for a living, I can say...yes. Yes, it takes up a lot of time and I rarely see people. However, in the long term, it helps me become a better (and productive) person.
And that's more important to me than who did who last weekend.
Diego (25...and still counting)
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