23 December 2010

Washing Cars, 1

The current job: Washing cars.

Got this one from my cousin, who let me know that BMW was hiring a new lot attendant last December. I jumped on the opportunity, of course, and washed cars there on the weekends for the next 7 months. That was the Saturday carwash, with friendly customers, free lunch, and decent tips. In August I was offered a full time job as the lot attendant, and did that for a month. Then my cousin, who held the same job at Mercedes-Benz, went back to school and I stepped into his place.

So right now, my day consists of driving these fabulously expensive cars into the wash bay, scraping the dirt out and off of them, and driving them back out, about 30 times.

It's not bad, but my ambition (short term) is to move up to detailing, which is a much more involved form of car washing. I'm continually surprised at how much I enjoy the process of washing the car, claying it, polishing, waxing, buffing, cleaning the windows, vacuuming, dressing the rubber and photographing the results. It's slow, soothing work. Shouldn't like to do it for the rest of my life, but I could certainly spend a couple of years at it.

Since the dealership is expanding its detailing department to 3 or 4 people and a new facility, I should in theory be able to move up. In practice, who knows. Right now, it looks like the semi-retarded lot boy is going to get the promotion instead, on strength of seniority, and I may be leaving town early next year and give up my place.

At this moment, I am about as depressed as I could possibly be, for this reason and others. Fuck everything about today, fuck Christmas as well, and see you next year.

10 December 2010

Hate

I think it's time to write again.

In the trough of a deep bout of depression, I figure it's worth getting some of the rage out so I can remember it fondly when life gets good again.

Ok, so shit jobs. Since last post, I went to Katimavik, got thrown out of Katimavik, and got a job at a BMW dealership. I washed cars on the weekends for 7 months, then washed cars full time for a month (by full time, I mean ~50 hours a week, hardcore) then moved to a Mercedes dealership owned by the same company, where I remain.

Mercedes is all right. There is one minor problem. His name is Frankie. Frankie hates me. I know not why Frankie hates me, but he surely does. I'm spraying water on the car he's detailing. I'm waving the wheel brush around too energetically. I parked too close to him. I rolled my eyes at his 19 year old idiocy. He hates me, and there's nothing to be done about it.

I learned my lesson at Safeway. This is a good job, I like it, and I'm never going to lose my temper again. But my god, does this man ever try my patience. He does NOTHING but complain. He's not spoken one word to me in three months that wasn't negative. He thinks I get his fucking cars wet on purpose. No, it couldn't be that the hose is high pressure, he's 5 feet away from me and water hitting a hard surface tends to splash. I'm doing it on purpose, so now he's splashing me on purpose, like a passive aggressive little bitch.

Now, I want to be friends with this kid. He's good at his job, he seems to get along with everyone else and he'd probably be a good contact in the industry. We could help each other with our work and defend one another against the madness of Management. We could talk. It would be nice.

But every friendly question is met with grunted monosyllables, and every friendly overture is treated like an offense. I've given up, and all I can do is ignore it, but his personality is eroding my sanity. I will hold on. I will not go crazy. I only have to hold out till January and his job moves to another building. I'll be okay.

But I won't be happy...