I Dare You To Have A Worse Day
I may have told several people about my worst day ever, but I don't think I've ever actually taken the time to write it down. (If I did, then tell me. It's hard to keep track of what post ideas I've actually written and what ideas have just been buried in my voice recorder for six months.) It was a couple summers ago, and as usual, I didn't have a summer job. My good friend John was kind enough to recommend that I apply at a place he had previously worked. It was a courier service called Trip Savers, and it was run by John's former... something like his former Boy Scout troop leader, I think. Anyway, I applied and got the job, because, well, it's freakin' driving around and handing people envelopes; I know monkeys that would've gotten that job. Or so I thought.
My first day on the job was fine. I drove around, dropping off inter-office memos and pay stubs all around the city. I even thought it was kinda fun, since most of the job was just sitting in the car, trying to read a map of the city. My second day of work is where it got a little hairy. I was at Woodmen and I-25, and I made pretty much the only mistake a courier can make: I locked myself out of my car. I called Gary, the Trip Savers owner, and told him what happened. He was less than amused. My dad's office wasn't that far from where I was, so I called him, knowing he had an extra key to the car. About twenty minutes later, my dad showed up, and I was back in the car.
I continued to make my rounds back and forth across the city. It wasn't really that bad a day so far, so I wasn't in too bad a mood. It was about four in the afternoon, probably five or six hours after I'd called my dad and asked him to bail me out. That's when I locked myself out of my car for a second time. And this wasn't any place where my dad could just drive over and open up the car. He was in Monument, and I was at the far south end of Colorado Springs. As in, somewhere along Highway 115. For those of you who are unfamiliar with our fair city, that's gonna be nearly a full hour-long drive. Once again, I called Gary, and once again, he was less than amused. I also called my dad again, since my mom was busy or unreachable or something like that. While he was understandably pissed at having to unlock the same car door twice in one day for his brain-dead son, I noticed a hint of glee in his voice over the phone. You know how you can tell when someone is smiling as they're speaking to you on the phone? That's how he sounded. Apparently, he thought it was pretty darn funny.
The rest of my day was pretty much ruined, because I'd had to give up about half my stuff during the two times when I was trapped in parking lots waiting for my dad to unlock the car door. I went into the Trip Savers office planning on quitting. And no, it wasn't just because I'd made a fool of myself in front of these people twice in a single day. I'd realized that I just plain hated that job. What's more I hated Gary too. He wasn't exactly the kind of guy you'd call, "clean" or "personable" or "not scary to children" or "nice in any way at all." He had a look to him that just made me want to cry. Or punch him in the nose.
Anyway, I had this whole excuse worked out before I got there. I clearly wasn't the best candidate for this job. I mean, look at what I did today. I locked myself out of my car twice. And plus (I can't believe I actually said this to him, but hey, I was desperate for an excuse), I wasn't really aware of exactly how much wear and tear I was going to put on my car. And I knew I couldn't work at this job during the school year anyway because of the worse-than-crappy hours. Gary actually tried to convince me to stay by saying that it was "taking the easy way out" to just quit before learning how to properly do a job. Uh huh. Really, Gary? How 'bout maybe you tell me something that I don't already know? You can't shame me into doing anything. I tell jokes about kids with Down Syndrome. I have no shame.
But it still feels really really bad to have to convince someone that you're going to quit your job. That was just the final straw for me. I went out for ice cream with my friend, Joy, to try and dull the pain with some Cold Stone double chocolate with Kit Kats. I think you ladies are onto something. Ice cream really does help...
My first day on the job was fine. I drove around, dropping off inter-office memos and pay stubs all around the city. I even thought it was kinda fun, since most of the job was just sitting in the car, trying to read a map of the city. My second day of work is where it got a little hairy. I was at Woodmen and I-25, and I made pretty much the only mistake a courier can make: I locked myself out of my car. I called Gary, the Trip Savers owner, and told him what happened. He was less than amused. My dad's office wasn't that far from where I was, so I called him, knowing he had an extra key to the car. About twenty minutes later, my dad showed up, and I was back in the car.
I continued to make my rounds back and forth across the city. It wasn't really that bad a day so far, so I wasn't in too bad a mood. It was about four in the afternoon, probably five or six hours after I'd called my dad and asked him to bail me out. That's when I locked myself out of my car for a second time. And this wasn't any place where my dad could just drive over and open up the car. He was in Monument, and I was at the far south end of Colorado Springs. As in, somewhere along Highway 115. For those of you who are unfamiliar with our fair city, that's gonna be nearly a full hour-long drive. Once again, I called Gary, and once again, he was less than amused. I also called my dad again, since my mom was busy or unreachable or something like that. While he was understandably pissed at having to unlock the same car door twice in one day for his brain-dead son, I noticed a hint of glee in his voice over the phone. You know how you can tell when someone is smiling as they're speaking to you on the phone? That's how he sounded. Apparently, he thought it was pretty darn funny.
The rest of my day was pretty much ruined, because I'd had to give up about half my stuff during the two times when I was trapped in parking lots waiting for my dad to unlock the car door. I went into the Trip Savers office planning on quitting. And no, it wasn't just because I'd made a fool of myself in front of these people twice in a single day. I'd realized that I just plain hated that job. What's more I hated Gary too. He wasn't exactly the kind of guy you'd call, "clean" or "personable" or "not scary to children" or "nice in any way at all." He had a look to him that just made me want to cry. Or punch him in the nose.
Anyway, I had this whole excuse worked out before I got there. I clearly wasn't the best candidate for this job. I mean, look at what I did today. I locked myself out of my car twice. And plus (I can't believe I actually said this to him, but hey, I was desperate for an excuse), I wasn't really aware of exactly how much wear and tear I was going to put on my car. And I knew I couldn't work at this job during the school year anyway because of the worse-than-crappy hours. Gary actually tried to convince me to stay by saying that it was "taking the easy way out" to just quit before learning how to properly do a job. Uh huh. Really, Gary? How 'bout maybe you tell me something that I don't already know? You can't shame me into doing anything. I tell jokes about kids with Down Syndrome. I have no shame.
But it still feels really really bad to have to convince someone that you're going to quit your job. That was just the final straw for me. I went out for ice cream with my friend, Joy, to try and dull the pain with some Cold Stone double chocolate with Kit Kats. I think you ladies are onto something. Ice cream really does help...
posted by Vaughan at
11:39 AM
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