The Right Attitude

I'm working yesterday, the job that I love, my destiny, my calling - sympatico with my soul.

My favorite time of the day - alone. I end every Monday alone for an hour or two. It is the sweetest possible eventuality, the greatest moment of my life every time, eternal peace, sweet release, calm, introspection and reflection.

Unless a fucking customer walks in.

If the phone rings when I am alone, I am completely in charge - I never answer it. I let it go to voicemail, then I listen to the message to see if the person sounds like an asshole. If they do, I delete the message and go back to whatever podcast I'm listening to.

But if someone walks in I actually have to deal with them - face to face. It really sucks.

A woman walks in at the very end of the day yesterday. The very end of the day. She hands me a check to renew her membership.

Company protocol requires me to jump up and down and clap like an organ grinder's monkey whenever anyone pays for a membership. And to say "thank you so much", with humility and at least 100 times.

I don't do that. I mumble "thanks" like Steven Wright and that is it.

I thought I was done. But no - the woman starts to ask me questions. Questions about a show she's taking her grandkids to see.

Customers should never be allowed to ask questions. We should have a "No Questions" sign up in the box office. But we don't.

One of the great joys of this job is that we in the box office rarely have the information on a show that we should have. Like how long the show lasts, if there are any intermissions, is there this is there that. This is shit we should definitely know, but it is rarely available. No big deal, we're only on the front fucking lines.

So we look stupid. Which I don't really care about because the job is menial anyway but still, if you can answer questions you can shut customers up.

If you can't answer questions, customers get that insulting look on their face that makes me nauseous. Like knowing shit is part of my job.

Anyway, I faked my way through her questions about her precious grandchildren's show and she left.

Whereupon I started hooting and hollering, jumping and dancing like a madman.

It is a supremely satisfying thing to usher a customer out of the box office.

They take up too much space and make too much noise.