Shit Job Tales

Not Quite Binary Code

2012-01-24T13:57:00.000-08:00

One of my classes is called Introduction to Computer Architecture. Don’t ask me to tell you what it’s about, because I haven’t learned that part yet. I’m told we’re getting there.

It’s actually one of my favourite courses, though, mainly due to the amiable, somewhat eccentric British professor who teaches it. I’ve learned more about Douglas Adams and the gospel of open source, than I have the actual coursework, but we’re only two weeks in and we’re getting there.

Anyway, our most recent lab was based on a programming language called CRAPS, which he wrote himself, a modified, simplified version of SPARC. It’s a very low level language - for those not familiar with programming. It’s a language that makes you essentially tell each individual transistor on a computer chip what it should do at any given moment. It isn’t quite binary code (0101010011110010101001010), but it’s only one level up.

To compare, English is a high-level language. It’s way too subtle for computers to understand. Machine code, the lowest level language, is much too simple for humans to understand. So all the levels in between are intended to find a compromise.

The goal of our assignment, as far as I can tell, is just to demonstrate that when you get right down to the transistors and wiring, there is no magic. A computer never does anything other than exactly what you tell it to do.

It was a failure, in my case. I’m still convinced that it’s magic. I definitely didn’t understand the program I was to modify, even after working on it for a week, with the professor holding my hand the whole time. After I finally got it “done” (with much help), I asked, “how can I possibly reproduce this on a test?”. He replied, no, this won’t be on the exam. So I asked, “will I have to reproduce it for an employer at some point?”

He said that in a survey, most employers thought that the Computer Architecture class should be dropped from the curriculum, but they also thought that graduates should possess the knowledge of low level programming that the class teaches. A bit of dichotomy.

So I find that I must have learned/be learning something very important and profound, but no one will ever call me on it. What was the point? I hope, really hope, that in a few months or years I’ll be able to answer that. I can’t now.

Kill Hollywood

2012-01-21T10:18:00.000-08:00

YCombinator wants to kill Hollywood. I'm on board, let's do this.

My idea is a new video game format. Instead of sucking you into 40 hour quests, you get episodes that take half an hour or an hour, so that the game doesn't eat your life. You can play for half an hour and move on.

It may be a dumb idea, but I'm looking for others, and I'll post them up. Even if I don't have the motivation to do it at the moment, ideas are free, and someone else can.

http://ycombinator.com/rfs9.html

Job Creation Is A Dumb Idea

2012-01-20T17:49:00.000-08:00

I hear a lot of noise about something called “job creation”. Something about the conversation doesn’t ring right to me.

It's as if job creation is an act of charity. A company or a government will allow you to work for them, pounding nails into boards, or whatever, in exchange for wages. They won't just give you the money. They require 8 hours of your day in exchange for it. Even though they will only waste your time, you can’t have it. You must trade your time for money. This is supposed to be better than outright charity, for some reason.

They treat all these human beings as if they are worthless, and their time is worthless. I guess a lot of them are. There was this video the other week from Mike Holmes, about the massive and weird shortage of skilled tradesmen. Every week on Hacker News, I see someone saying “my god, do we ever need more software engineers!” And I guess some cotton fields down south are going unpicked, now that they’ve successfully chased out all the mexicans who picked them before, and they can’t convince any of the many unemployed americans in the area to take the jobs.

So why all the job creation talk? It seems like there are jobs, a lot of them. There just aren’t enough useful people. Or maybe the prices aren’t right. Like, those cotton farms. It’s not worth doing that job, paying 40 bucks for the gas just to get out there, work all day in the hot sun, make barely enough to cover the gas, and then another long drive home before you get any time to yourself. But if the cotton farmers paid the workers a living wage, they wouldn’t be able to make a profit. So then what?

Go out of business paying better wages. Someone else, someone smarter, will take over the land and make a profit with something else.

Charge more for cotton - another way to go out of business, unless everyone else does the same thing. Maybe that’s happening already? I think probably it is.

Or limp along as before, abusing immigrant mexicans, abusing poor americans, charging too little for cotton, and getting away with it. I don’t think it can last.

All I know is I don’t want any part of the whole mess. I don’t want a job someone created for me. If I can’t get work because I’m valuable and in demand, I think I’d rather be a thief, or an anarchist, and try to ruin the system until it falls apart.

Creating Is Better Than Consuming

2012-01-17T17:13:00.000-08:00

I discovered reddit.com in 2008, during the US presidential primaries. I was hunting for election news and kept winding up on reddit. My original goal was to become a more well informed person, and keep track of what was going on in the world. CNN, the Globe and Mail, and Time magazine were my original sources, but someone how reddit was always more attractive.

I’ve learned an awful lot of stuff from reddit: how to prevent acne, how to hold a relationship together and when to let go (from kleinbl00 ), and the events that led up to Arab Spring .

Eventually, I forgot about all the other sites I used to go to before reddit. Seriously, I have no idea what I used to do on the internet. Maybe I just checked my email then turned it off? What a concept.

Last December, I realized that I was going to fail my exams if I didn’t study, and I wouldn’t study if it was possible to flick back to reddit every time I got slightly bored. So I stopped. Reddit turns out to have been my drug of choice. I can’t go back because I don’t trust myself.

Fortunately, there are other ways to feel good besides getting an information hit every 30 seconds or so. Creating is just as rewarding as consuming, but since it takes longer and more effort, you don’t end up doing it if your drug of choice is handy for instant consumption. Since quitting reddit, I’ve built a couple websites, passed my exams with room to spare, and done a couple blog posts. But I still miss it.

The problem I’m facing just now is that reddit made me aware of all the incredibly neat things that people have done. It’s intimidating to do anything. Oh well. I’ll suck in public, I’m big enough.

Java Programming, as taught by an Army drill sergeant.

2012-01-13T14:25:00.000-08:00

This is a teacher who has a very rigorous method of teaching programming. As far as I've seen, it's very effective. He's unusual in that he explicitly tells us not to read textbooks about the subject, not to comment our code, and not to ask stupid questions. It would be easy to find him intimidating. Just now, for instance, I mentioned that I was following along with the code that he was writing on the overhead projector, on my own machine. I got a bunch of error message. He says he's not really interested in talking about my error messages at the moment.

A bit harsh, but on the other hand, many teachers allow students to derail them with inane questions, which slows the class down considerably. This class is very fast paced, and you have no choice but to keep up. It's very tough but you learn very fast.

Two things:

A man who is this sure of himself had better be right all the time. So far, he is.
Second, his style gives him an easy out if a student is having trouble. He can simply say, if you did what I told you, you would have no problems. Go away and don't bother me.

He gets on my nerves. At the moment, I understand why he operates the way he does, and respect that it is very effective. Hopefully I can maintain my calm for the rest of semester.

Teachers

2012-01-12T13:09:00.001-08:00

I'm pretty hard on teachers, sometimes.

My reasoning goes: I'm about as smart as anyone else taking this class, and I'm working pretty hard. If I don't understand what you're talking about, then you aren't communicating clearly. Try again.

Depending on the day, I may be more or less sure of this statement, though. For one thing, it's pretty arrogant. You'll notice that I chide myself for arrogance pretty often, but I never stop doing it.

It's arrogant, because there are people who are actually less smart than me, but they work much harder, and they get it. Or people who are as smart or smarter than me, who have no problem. Also because I usually get the concept once I stop complaining about it and try reading a bit.

Then again, I think it's fair to hold teachers to a high standard as well. I had an exceptional teacher last semester - Patricia Wrean. Good math teachers, I believe, should be given knighthoods and and millions of dollars, but instead all they get is the same salary as every other teacher. Logically, then, we should hold every teacher to the high standards of exceptionally good teachers.

Now, it's true that the teacher in question is a genuine rocket scientist, but that's not what makes her good. The difference was that she analyzed the performance of past students (using advanced statistical models - she is a math teacher), sought feedback constantly (do you like the colour of the pen I'm using? Is the text big enough? Do you get this concept or should we do another example?) and overhauled her curriculum every year.

Every teacher should do this. Not all of them are smart enough. Not all know how. Not all are willing to make the effort. And I'm pretty sure none of them get paid enough.

Anyway, if I'm hard on teachers, I'm just as hard on myself. They seem to enjoy me, too.

School

2012-01-11T20:20:00.000-08:00

School is a job, they say. You should give it your full attention. But what I've found is that if you just do what they tell you to do, you won't do very well.

There are plenty of people in my course who tried hard and studied last semester, and squeaked through the assignments and passed the tests, but they didn't like it. They felt overwhelmed and realized, correctly, that they weren't learning very much. Some of them dropped out.

I find that a better approach is to start with the stuff they teach you, then go off and start your own projects with that knowledge. Which doubles your course load, of course, so it's best not to bother unless you're really, really serious about this line of work.

By the way, what am I talking about?

I just spent the last 2 years working in the car wash at a Mercedes dealership. I learned a lot. Things like:
You're not that clever,
You have no idea what hard work means,
And quit being such an arrogant prick.

Having learned these things, I feel that I've gotten as much mileage out of washing cars as I'm ever going to. So I went back to school last September, studying Computer Systems Technology at Camosun College.

The program turns out to be exactly what I've been looking for all of my life, and I've just gotten to the point where I'm mature enough to not make an absolute hash of it.

All the courses are intensely interesting, even if some of the teachers are pretty deadly. And this is where my earlier statement comes in - there's no way to learn from a lecture if you fall asleep in the middle of it. So if the class is that bad, I start working on assignments on my laptop, and by the time we get to the lab I'm already halfway done and have a series of good questions for the teacher. I'm pretty happy with my strategy so far.

Last semester I had a tough time with the web design course, and felt like I hadn't learned enough. So I built two websites over Christmas break. Now I think I'm up to the level I should have been at the end of the course, but I still have a ton to learn. At least I have a starting point - the rest is a matter of hard work and lots of it.

Unfortunately, the same situation is starting with the Database Concepts course - and no one wants to spend their spring break reading about databases. It is literally the most boring subject ever. In this case, paying attention and taking notes seems to be the way to go. Here's me, old enough to employ obvious strategies for success, and not make an absolute hash of it. Will it work?

Well, yeah. Obviously. But I'll have to check in later and see just how well it went.

Falied Attempts, 3

2011-07-21T07:54:00.001-07:00

Step 1: Decide to go on an adventure.

Step 2: Pick a location. Argentina. Like the sound of the word. Okay. Get your passport. Look at a map. What’s in Argentina? Buenos Aires, ah that’s nice. You could go WWOOFing. Get the WWOOF book. Contact a farm. Decide to go to Peru instead. What’s in Peru? Cuzco, Macchu Picchu. Start saving your money. 4000, 5000. How much is a plane ticket? Quite a lot. Decide to Go to Mexico instead. Hey, I could ride my bike, no big deal. Hell, I could get on my bike this minute and start riding…ok, don’t do that, do some planning.

Budget. 5000. 1000 for tickets, 1000 for gear, 3000 for food/booze/snooze. Buy a bike, panniers, some lights and tools. Hardly anything really, well under 1000. Get tickets for the Clipper to Seattle. You know, it would only cost 200 to bus it to San Francisco. Do that as well. How far is Mexico from San Fran? It’s like… a long way… screw it, I’ll just go to LA. That’s pretty far.

Step 3: Start riding.

Step 4: Next time I’m going to goddam Mexico. That wasn’t even hard.

Failed Attempts, 2

2011-07-14T22:17:00.000-07:00

Step 1: Decide to become a famous drummer.

Step 2: Join the middle school orchestra. Decide to play trumpet. Get talked out of it by your mom, who knows that a deaf kid won’t have much luck with a pitched instrument. Take up drums instead. Half-ass your way through 6 years of boring music and mutual-hate relationships with your teachers, never giving up on music because the only other electives are art or business studies (screw that).

Decide to become a roadie instead. Take someone’s suggestion to volunteer at the local community theatre as a whatever. Become an usher. Receive no training that would be useful to a roadie, but meet someone who introduces you to a drum section leader of the local bagpipe band.

Join the bagpipe band. Learn the marches. Drink much beer. Move to Victoria, and join another band there. Drink still more beer. March around, learn more songs. Never practice enough to get any respect. Take up playing the djembe at open mike and jam nights at local bars. Meet cute guys, date them. Wear headphones everywhere you go, and dance in the street. Still don’t practice effectively.

Step 2 still in progress.

Step 3: ???

Step 4: Profit!

Failed Attempts, part 1

2011-07-13T21:14:00.000-07:00

Step 1:
Decide to become a bicycle mechanic.

Step 2:
Try to fix your own bike. Make a hilarious mess of your gears and brakes. Apply for a job at a local bike shop, with your resume full of things like “good with my hands” and “cash handling experience. Never hear back.

Begin hanging out at the local hippie bike co-op. Patch a lot of inner tubes. Learn to strip wrecked bikes, adjust cranksets, install chainrings, build wheels. Put in a lot of free labor while fending off the advances of various creepy, older men who hang out there also.

Get tired of your job; quit. Plan to ride your bike to Mexico. Chicken out and downgrade your plan to riding from San Francisco to LA; do it; have a blast.

Come back to your same old job, with a newfound confidence, and further determination to become a bike mechanic. Patch more inner tubes.

Step 2 still in progress.

Step 3: ???

Step 4: Profit!

What I Want

2011-01-09T20:48:00.000-08:00

I want to be a better person.
I want to show respect for every person I work with.
I want to show respect for the job.
I want to show love to my friends in concrete ways.
I want to tell my boss that he's doing a good job.
I want to work 16 hours a day and 7 days a week to make the world a better place.
I'll start with Victoria. I want to make Victoria a better place.
Give me a minute to collect my thoughts.

What would make this city better?
More biking, less cars.
Better drivers.
More civic interest from younger people.
Less reactionary NIMBYness from the older people.
I'm just throwing out ideas here, not every item on the list is necessarily relevant to the task at hand.

But here's what I want to do:
I want to make Victoria a city famous for recycling, not in the sense of bottles and cans and stuff (though that's pretty good). Oh, hold on, there's a good idea.
How about pay a bounty for every bag of street trash collected by the homeless? Reduce the money we need to spend on keeping the streets clean, give them a way to make money (a lot of them already recycle bottles full time). Ok, leave that there.

I want to make Victoria famous for chopped up, cheap-ass, recycled motorcycles. Reduce the number of cars on the street, increase the number of people who own motorbikes instead of cars. Make it normal to take a bike to the office and vulgar to take a car.

How?
The beginning is the motorcycle salvage yard on Discovery Street. There are piles and piles of motorcycle parts stacked every which way in there, and while everything in the world can probably be found in there someplace, no one has the time to look.

To start, just to START (you have to start somewhere) I want to organize the salvage yard. Catalogue, photograph, stack things up nice and tidy. Make it user friendly.

Next step is taking bikes to wreck and recycle (there's about to be a glut of old Harley's on the market), and building new ones from parts.

That's down the road. What I want to do right this very minute is start spending 16 hours a day, 7 days a week, whipping that shop into usable condition.

Washing Cars, 1

2010-12-23T22:53:00.000-08:00

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.

Hate

2010-12-10T21:21:00.001-08:00

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...

After A Long, Cheap, Summer

2009-09-19T00:47:00.000-07:00

I spent a couple of months looking for summer jobs close to where I live - at restaurants, liquor stores and the like. While most of the places were hiring, none of them were hiring me. The low point was when I failed to get a job at effin' McDicks, even though I had an in with a manager. Apparently I failed the pre-interview questionnaire, a 30 question ordeal that resembled a Facebook quiz.

This shit has gone too far, I thought, and at that moment, the obvious answer came to me - go back to the old gas station. I returned to the Shell in Oak Bay, where I spent one happy month or so last summer. I left to return to the more lucrative (snicker) Safeway, but I've always missed it.

After a bit of badgering the manager, I got my old job back, with the understanding that it was only for a month or so. More on that in a moment. It's a beautiful place to work. The customers are easygoing, the staff are friendly, and I can play my Game Boy during the slow periods. Yes, it is still a shit job, but it could be a lot worse. As I said, it's only for a month...

I'm going to do Katimavik. It's a nine-month volunteer program, fully funded by the federal government, and I leave October 7th. I expect to have many adventures, which I will tell you about in time.

Meanwhile, here are some pro tips for working at gas stations:

1. I've said it before, but seriously, coffee is key. It makes you a better person, and customers like that.

2. When cleaning lint traps in the adjacent laundromat, it's not good to open them by kicking the key into its hole with a steel toed boot. This leads to broken keys. Who would have thought?

3. Don't take shifts with a meth head.

Fuck you, random internet blog.

2009-06-24T23:14:00.000-07:00

I was wandering around the nets and I ran into this blog. After reading the article, I tried to right-click back the previous page, and this little alert box came up to notify me that I was trying to steal copyrighted material. Since I wasn't, that pissed me off. Here's the content they didn't want me to steal so very badly. You can still copy and paste it. Doh. I will not credit the original author because they're a douchebag. You can find it with Google if you really must.

Joe,

Couldn't believe my Eyes!

Walked into Sam's Club in SBY today at noon with mother,wife and kids.

There was a table in the entry where they check your club card and faster than I could get my card back in my wallet an employee was handing my two daughters actual prescription pill bottles with candy packed in them. What the ...???

Now my 3 year old thinks all prescription pill bottles are just tasty snacks...
What in the world are they thinking over there?

There will be some calls on Monday morning from SBY to Arkansas to be sure.
I'm pissed, really pissed, what kind of pharmacy marketing is this...???

Meh. Who cares.

Unemployment

2009-06-22T13:23:00.000-07:00

So I finally sucked it up and quit Safeway. For realz this time. They won't take me back even if I ask. That was last week and I've been vaguely looking for a new job since then, but I don't really wanna. I've got enough cash for awhile...

Mainly, I'm just languishing in the fact that I never have to put another plastic bag on another 4-liter of milk ever again. Nevernevernever. I have learned. I've done a grocery store, and I've learned that it friggin' sucks ass, so I'm not going to do that again. I'm going to get some sort of qualification and get a decent job where I can sit down and take my coffee break when I damn well feel like it. Upthapunk, etc.

Yeah, it's kinda boring now, nothing to do but internet and wander around town. But I'll take a little more boredom, for now...

Hypothetical

2009-05-01T22:15:00.002-07:00

So. Let me stress, none of the following is stuff that I have ever actually done, nor would ever, EVER do, because I am a good, responsible employee who is respectful and hardworking and not psychotic at all.

Anyway, the following is a list of things you can apparently do at Safeway and still not be fired yet.

Call your supervisor a dick, over the phone, when customers can hear
Ask another supervisor "What the hell is your problem?" when she speaks too sharply to you.
Snap at other employees occasionally, things along the lines of "Fucking answer when I ask a question!"
Flatly say "no" when a customer asks for a second plastic bag, even when another customer who overhears complains to management.
Rack up one verbal warning, 2 written ones, one get-sent-home and one 1 day suspension. In less than 6 months.

Obviously someone (not me) who would do things like this needs to learn to control their language, as well as their temper.

It's possible that a hypothetical employee might do things like that, though. If driven to the point of pure rage by careless and incompetent management; if forced to remain in a position that they are uniquely unsuited to even after attempts to switch departments; if they routinely interact with customers who seem to get progressively dumber with age...someone might begin to lose their self control a bit, sometimes.

This is not good. Such a person needs to find a new job, very, very soon.

The Promised Long Post

2009-03-31T10:18:00.000-07:00

Yea, so. I had a few thoughts after reading this blog post by Hugh MacLeod, a very cool, if somewhat self-congratulatory, artist. I've been trying to sort out my thoughts on God, religion, Christianity, etc, and how it fits with all my new, and unavoidable, education. What I came up with is more or less this:

When the Israelites were let out of Egypt, they were free, but they were still slaves. That is, they still had the slave mentality; the idea that someone else should be responsible for taking care of them. They didn't want to take that responsibility themselves. They asked God for a king to tell them what to do, for rules, so they wouldn't have to think. God, being kind and indulgent, said, "Fine. Have some rules, here you go. And a king, if you must." Thus, the 10 commandments and King David. Thus, the rest of Leviticus, Deuteronomy, etc.

The bible contradicts itself and chases itself in circles so much that it's almost as if it's trying to point out how silly the rules are. "Thou shalt not kill," but also, "if your son is disobedient, have him stoned at the city gates". Other silly rules about not combing two different kinds of thread in the same garment. No one can follow all of them, and it's ridiculous to try. So you look past all that, try to see if you're missing something, and there it is, a simpler way. Not necessarily easier, but simpler. Just love.

The whole point of the stupid thing is to tell us the one thing God really wants us to do, which is love on another. All the rest will follow. Just in case you're so twisted that you don't even remember what love is, it's explained in detail in 1 Cor 13; 4-8. "Love is patient, love is kind, it is not jealous, it is not arrogant." It is possibly the only verse in the entire book that actually makes sense. If it's the only one you ever read, and you live by it, that is enough to live properly. Trying to follow all the bullshit rules in the Old Testament will get you nowhere.

I may revise this later, reinforce my reasoning a bit, y'know.

Suicide Is Painless

2008-12-24T08:12:00.000-08:00

I had no idea that the theme song from MASH had a title, nor lyrics, nor that they were so deliciously dark. The music was composed by Johnny Mandel, and the lyrics by Robert Altman.

Suicide is Painless

Through early morning fog I see visions of the things to be
The pains that are withheld for me I realize and I can see . . .
That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.

I try to find a way to make all our little joys relate
Without that ever-present hate but now I know that it’s too late,
and . . .That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.

The game of life is hard to play. I’m gonna lose it anyway.
The losing card I’ll someday lay so this is all I have to say.
That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.

The only way to win is cheat and lay it down before I’m beat,
and to another give my seat for that’s the only painless feat.
That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.

The sword of time will pierce our skins it doesn’t hurt when it begins
But as it works its way on in the pain grows stronger . . . watch it grin, but . . .
That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.

A brave man once requested me to answer questions that are key
'Is it to be or not to be' and I replied 'oh why ask me?'
That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.
And you can do the same thing if you choose.

Well, fuck

2008-12-20T23:53:00.001-08:00

Life sucks, everything sucks, I'm-a go jump out a window now.

Here's Allan Ginsberg, feeling insane:

...I'm with you in Rockland
where you scream in a straightjacket that you're
losing the game of the actual pingpong of the abyss
I'm with you in Rockland
where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul
is innocent and immortal it should never die
ungodly in an armed madhouse
I'm with you in Rockland
where fifty more shocks will never return your
soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a
cross in the void ...

Hey Allan, I'm with you in Rockland, wherever the hell that is.

My Awesome Boss

2008-12-13T20:33:00.000-08:00

One of our managers got snippy at 3 am and posted this on Facebook; I now reproduce it for your enjoyment.

By Erin McLeese

I am your friendly neighbourhood Safeway employee. I have advanced technical certifications in braising meats and vegetables, candy making, party planning, family counselling and MMA Refereeing, as well as financial planning. And I know exactly what you need, when you need it - ask me anything, I have a catalogued index in my mind of the entire store.

Of course I understand you needed that cut of meat three hours ago, and I should have anticipated your needs before you came to the store and asked that the meat cutter make those cuts of meats for you before he left for the day. Would you like me to take your order for him? No I am sorry I cannot cut the meat for you, I am not in the meat cutters union.

Peanut butter is in aisle 16 on the right.

It is completely my fault, I am not in the meat cutters union and therefore cannot cut your meat; would you like to try this cut of meat instead? Or how about a rack of lamb? Your Great Aunt Matilda is allergic? I am sorry to hear that, what about chicken? It BBQ’s well and is a great alternative to beef.

Peanut butter is in aisle 16 on the right, would you like me to show you?

I am your Safeway Customer Service Rep. I am a Person in Charge, a Courtesy clerk, a Deli Clerk, a Cashier, a Seafood Clerk and Grocery Clerk. I am sorry that we are out of coke, we would have made more, but the fizz machine broke and we are wait listed to have it fixed. If I had known on Monday you wanted 25 two litres I would have ordered accordingly.

Yes Ma'am the peanut butter is still in Isle 16, would you like me to show you?

I am sincerely sorry that the Club Soda is on sale 4 for $10 and we did not order enough to ensure you got some. Would you like a rain check?

Sir, you look lost can I help you find something?

The peanut butter is in aisle 16, left hand side, can I show you? I am sure you are capable of counting to 16, I am just… ohhh… Cream of tartar? That would be in aisle 5 with the spices, would you like me to show you? You can find it just fine on your own, okay, when you can't see it let me know, I will help you see it.

Yes our Christmas candy is in the display in the front lobby, you did not see the display? Perhaps I can show you? It is marked by Christmas balloons and bruised and battered poinsettias that toddlers keep pulling on. You see perfectly fine on your own? okay, again let me know if you need me to show you.

Cellophane is in aisle 6, right next to the cooking oil, and peanut butter is in aisle 16 between the jam and the syrups on the right hand side, would you like me to show you? Yes I am sure you can follow directions... Sir, aisle 16 is on your other right.

No Ma’am I don’t really work here, I just wear the uniform and stock shelves when I come into shop, it helps me consider what I REALLY want to make for dinner tonight. Yes, I am being smart, but you have seen me here before and you ask this question every day before asking me where the peanut butter is, and it is STILL in aisle 16

No we do not sell our donuts frozen, Superstore does? Well they are in Langford Sir, would you like directions?

Would you like your groceries in paper or plastic bags? Would you like carry out service? You're right I can see that you are spritly and lively at the tender age of 75, how dare I insult you by following policy and offering you exceptional customer service.

Molasses is in aisle 16 next to the peanut butter, no I am not S**tin' you, it's considered a syrup in Q'bec, and we keep it with the syrups.

Thank-you for your patronage, please come again.

Obligatory

2008-12-07T22:14:00.000-08:00

A kind of summing up, if you will. Since it's December, right. Cliche, but now's as good a time as any, and 2008 has been interesting.

2008 was:
Sex
Drugs
Rock'n'roll

Screwdrivers with Kim
Movies in the park
Philosophy with Tom at 2 am
Waking up in odd places and making my way home in the wee hours
3 or 4 different jobs
About 9 school credits
Playing drums in the band
Many, many new friends.

It was pretty good, for the most part. There were tense parts, but I think I've developed a new Zen approach, which is very healthy on the whole. It's been good.

Next year promises to be even more interesting. Possibly it is a good idea to take note of the old Chinese curse: "May you live in interesting times." Now, for instance, life seems pretty excellent. I've done well in school and I've got a new, much cheaper place to live next year. I've got more friends now than at any other point in my life, and I've got plenty of money to spoil some loved ones at Christmas...
Yet...I've been snapping lately. This thing is called Shit Job Tales for a reason. And the job seems to be getting shittier. I've lost my temper with people who may or may not have deserved it several times in the last couple weeks...there's always a good reason to lose one's temper, but I never have before, so why now? I may have to quit before they actually fire me. Life goes...

Aaaaand we're back

2008-12-01T14:03:00.000-08:00

Rough times over here. On the playslist:

Parents just don't understand (self explanatory)
Train in Vain (I got a job, but it don't pay)
Oops, I did it again (and again, and again)
My stupid mouth (I'm never speaking up again)
I Will Survive (though I might wish I hadn't)

Stressful times, but at least life is interesting.

Sometime in the near future, I need to essay my thoughts on faith and religion and god, and all that good stuff. I don't really feel up to it right now though...is going to be Srs Bzness, and requires a bit of run up. Ta.

Spook-tacular

2008-10-19T13:26:00.000-07:00

is not a word, and it's not clever at all. And boys and ghouls? Don't. Just. Don't.

McCain

2008-10-13T19:25:00.000-07:00

I'm going to try to get in as a copy editor at the Times Colonist. My uncle says I haven't a prayer. I try, nonetheless. Also:

I got this from John Scalzi's blog, Whatever:

John McCain: If your campaign does not stop equating Sen. Barack Obama with terrorism, questioning his patriotism and portraying Mr. Obama as “not one of us,” I accuse you of deliberately feeding the most unhinged elements of our society the red meat of hate, and therefore of potentially instigating violence… you are playing with fire, and you know it. You are unleashing the monster of American hatred and prejudice, to the peril of all of us. You are doing this in wartime. You are doing this as our economy collapses. You are doing this in a country with a history of assassinations.

This is a comment by one of McCain's former campaigners, published in the Baltimore Sun.

Strong words, but this is a time for strong words.

So,

2008-10-06T15:27:00.001-07:00

The government decided to send me 87 bucks. Why? Haven't a clue. I suspect they're trying to bribe poor people to vote back in a government that plans to rape them up the ass as soon as the election is won. Won't work, assholes. I'm voting Liberal. But I'll keep the money, thanks.

I've just had my mind blown

2008-09-30T10:54:00.000-07:00

By this:

Brilliant Idea For Transporting Water In Areas That Do Not have Plumbing
(Photo credits in the link)

Bangbangbang

2008-09-28T23:55:00.000-07:00

When I'm keyed up like this I make random noises. On the computer they come out as onomatopoeia, hence the title.

So work was kinda good! It always goes better when they unchain me from the damn till and let me stock shelves or something. Think heavy lifting sucks? At least you get to move around. At least you get to pause and catch your breath. There aren't damn people wanting crap all the time. It's good.

So. Copy editing. To be a copy editor you need, quote:

- Thorough knowledge of the Internet, with the skills and imagination to deliver news in innovative ways;
- A strong knowledge of the English language, with the ability to merge various news stories and sources into compelling copy, in all formats;
- The ability to write clever headlines, succinct cutlines and snappy decks under deadline pressure, in all formats;
- Thorough knowledge of current events in Calgary and Western Canada;
- Page-building skills;
- A passion for fact-checking, nit-picking and absolute accuracy;
- A strong sense of teamwork and individual responsibility.

Dude! I can do all those things! You don't even need a degree!

Now I just have to convince them to let me try it. They'll probably want someone with experience or some of that BS. To hell with that. I am a master of the English language. I can do it.

Stop

2008-09-16T23:29:00.000-07:00

For a moment I thought I was wise. I'm not wise. Knowing that makes everything easier somehow...

Finding BOB

2008-09-14T21:12:00.000-07:00

OKAI EMO POST TIME AARRGH.

Yeah, so. School, whatever. Work, whatever. Life, no idea.

I mean, you go to school and take courses. For what? I still don't know. I work because I need to live. Why am I living? Don't know. So life continues. Work hard, study hard, what the hell am I doing? I need to quit my job and go dig wells. I need to get into a proper program and learn how to build rocketships. I need to stop getting drunk every weekend. Or alternately, start getting drunk way more often.

END OF EMO.

So the latest special thing Safeway is doing. Finding BOB. BOB is stuff left by customers on the Bottom Of Basket as the pass through checkout. Oftentimes the cashier doesn't see it, and the customer walks out without paying for the item. Apparently Safeway loses 10 million per year because of this. I don't really buy it, but w.e.

So to encourage cashiers to catch more of these, we're having a "Finding BOB Story contest". You write your story about finding BOB on an index card and put it into a box, and there's a draw each week. The winner gets a cheesecake or something.

An example story: "I was working on till and I checked the customers basket. There was a large bag of flour left on the bottom. I said, "Excuse me, is this your flour?' The customer said yes. I rang it in and finished the sale. The end."

It turns out I would have won this week, except my entry contained a little too much much "playing silly buggers" for the management's taste. Bleah. The thing is, the contest is so damn ghey I can't bring myself to write a BOB story without being a smartass. No cheesecake for me.

Edjamacation

2008-09-05T11:57:00.000-07:00

Five months of summer vacation is really to much. I was starting to forget that I'm still an irresponsible child who can't do anything right and isn't expected too. I almost felt like and adult for awhile there. Dangerous thoughts. Anyway, school is back in, and I fuckin' love it. Yes, tuition, blah blah, books, blah blah, screwed up registration at Uvic, whatever. School is good. No one knows me here, and those who do, think I'm hot stuff. It is so much better than the distant memory of high school on every level.

There is the downside, of course, which will hit me as soon as I fall off this caffeine high that I've been on. I haven't worked in a few days, and realizing that I have to go back tomorrow makes me remember how much I really don't want to. I did screw up my one course at Uvic, so I think the Creative Writing thing is out the window. I really want to take ACP (that's applied communications, working in tv, radio, media, whatever) or Economics. I'm trying to figure out which one would be more likely to get me a globe trotting job the UN. I'm pretty sure one of those is definitely what I want to do though, although Computer Science has become an attractive option thanks to a really cool teacher.

All this typing has made me remember what brought me to the computer in the first place which is to do some homework. That's the third downside: school is work. Brain work. No one to make you do it, just the threat of impending failure and a life of humiliation working at Starbucks. Onward...

PS. One other thing I'm psyched about: I can make my own coffee now! I got one of these.

Burn In Hell Bitch

2008-08-26T21:26:00.000-07:00

One of these days I will blow. On that day, I advise you stay about 20 feet away- out of range of flying objects, but close enough to film for the interwebs. It will be worth filming.

So:
I scan customer's ice cream and reusable shopping bag.

Me: "Do you have a club card?"
C: "No"

She pays.
I put ice cream in bag.

C: "Don't put that in the bag."
Me: "Huh?"
C: "Wrap it in plastic please."
Me: "O...kay..."
Me: "Why buy the bag if you're not going to use it?"
C: "If you out the ice cream in that bag it will melt and get the bag wet."
Me: "But it dries...no..?"
C: "Just wrap it in plastic!"
Me: (rolleyes)
C: "Give me one of those game cards."
(The store is running one of those silly contests with game cards, only card holders can play, she did not give me her card)
Me: (Doesn't hear, I'm deaf, yknow)

Me: "Wha...?"
C: "Give me a game card!"
Me: "No."

(Satisfaction)

C: "Why?!"
Me: "No club card." (Also, I hate you, bitch)

C: (storms out)

It is possible that I am overreacting. It is possible that I was being a little dumber than usual that day and she grew legitimately frustrated. This does not change the fact that if I ever get really angry when I've had enough coffee and am feeling energetic enough, I will do something really, really violent...lose my job, but by god, it will be worth it.

$$$$$$$$$$$

2008-08-20T11:19:00.000-07:00

Holy cow, we're getting a raise! It's significantly lower than what the management hoped for, but what the hey. I'm out of here in a couple years anyway. It's 8.75/hr to 9.75, for me, plus .50/hr in back pay retroactively from the end of March. (Is the use of retroactively redundant? I'm not sure.

It means I'm still below the poverty line, but it's still a hell of a lot better than before. I'm going to spend the back pay on booze and clothes. I deserve it, don't you think? I spend like, 20 bucks a week on food. I live like a monk, only without the cool robes and Buddhist street cred. So yeah, this makes me pretty happy.

I still don't think 1 dollar an hour is enough of a raise, considering what a pain this job is, but my boss said something wise- "If both parties are unhappy, that's a sign of a successful contract. If one side walks away thinking, 'What a deal!' then the other side is fucked." It just remains to be seen if the corporation is unhappy too.

Headbang

2008-08-12T23:41:00.000-07:00

Not the rock on, pounding heavy metal sort of headbang, but rather the kind where you have no other outlet for frustration, so you let it out on the walls and your forehead.

I want to go to England. I want to have a proper job and things to do at the weekends. My online friends, who started out in the same boat as me (high school and bored as hell) have now graduated. They are nuclear engineers and newspaper reporters, website designers or in school for degrees in heavy, prosperous subjects. Me, I'm still at fucking Safeway, and it's time to get the hell on with life. This has got to change...

The Fish

2008-07-31T21:46:00.000-07:00

Last year I worked in a fuel dock, or gas station for boats, in Tofino, BC. As the float supervisor, I was meant to hang about down on the floats, rather than in the store with the other employees. One very foggy morning, I was going about my business, coiling hoses and such, when a small motorboat puttered into my line of sight. The engine was dying- the problem later proved to be a mucky carburetor. Anyway, they didn't quite make it to the dock. I had to throw them a line and haul them in.

These three old fellas were in Tofino on a fishing trip, which, unfortunately, could not get underway until the engine was fixed. While one of the gentlemen went ot up to the store to see about the carb, I stayed and passed the morning with the other two. As there were few other boats out on that foggy day, we had plenty of time. By the time the fog burned off and the motor was putting again, we were all fast friends. They swore to bring me a fish in honor of the way I had reeled them in.

I assumed I'd never see them again, of course. To my surprise, though, they came back at the end of my shift, the next day. With a fish. A coho, just like this one:

Such are the good days, even in shit jobs.

Plastic Bags: It ends here.

2008-07-28T13:40:00.000-07:00

A letter to the editor of my local newspaper, published here for anyone doesn't live in Victoria.

I want to commend Oak Bay residents. Many of them try to reduce waste by using cloth grocery bags rather than plastic ones. As a Safeway cashier, I’m in a position to notice and appreciate this.

However, for every conscientious person who brings bags, there’s another who doesn’t seem to care. They wrap each item- the coffee, the chicken, the single apple, and the tiny box of pills- in its own produce bag, and expects the cashier to put the whole lot in another plastic bag at the checkout. Sometimes they even ask for double bags, lest their hands get sore from carrying that heavy load.

The usual justification for this is to prevent coffee grounds from getting on the apple, or fluid from the chicken leaking out. But why? Stuff washes off.

It almost hurts to think of the reams of flimsy plastic that pass through my hands every day. I want it to stop. It’s possible- Ireland has almost eliminated the use of plastic bags by simply of taxing the heck out of them. People waste things that are free, but a 25-cent tax will make them think. It would make me think too- I occasionally use plastic bags myself, even though I have fabric ones at home. I wouldn’t mind some help breaking the habit.

Not to generalize, but I have noticed a pattern in the worst of the bag-wasters. They tend to pay close attention to discounts, quibble over sales prices, and count their change carefully. I think people of this temperament would respond very quickly to a bag tax.

I don’t understand, in fact, why BC doesn’t have a bag tax already, seeing how well it has worked for the Irish. Perhaps the people in charge of these things are just waiting until enough citizens demand it, to be sure it’s what we really want. In that case, add my name to the list.

How To Deflect Hatred

2008-07-23T00:03:00.000-07:00

When you are paying for your purchases in a store, especially a high volume grocery store, 9 times out of ten, you are in close proximity to someone who hates you. Severely, passionately, hates you. I speak of the cashier. S/he hates you because you do the same annoying things that every single customer does. Time wasting, idiotic little things that make the poor cashier want to do violence. As a public service, I want to explain how to avoid bringing this psychic wrath down on yourself.

1. Don't count change.

If you're paying cash, use bills. Don't count out every damn penny, especially if you're old and you don't know how to count and your hand shakes. Just put your stupid change in a jar and take it to the bank once a month. Let them deal with it-it's their job. At the store, just pay fast and get out.

If you really don't have any money but change, forgawdssake let the cashier count it, okay? They're good at it. It's their job.

2. If you brought your own bags, say something.

Don't wait until the packer has already loaded most of your stuff into plastic, and then make them take it out and repack it. Get your head out of your ass and speak up.

3. Also, don't bring floppy bags.

Look, you brought your own bags, it's good, you're a good person, saving the environment and stuff. You're much holier than the person in no. 4. Still, don't bring your grungy old bags from the seventies. They are floppy and hard to pack, and the cashier has to waste time wrestling with them. It sucks.

4. Don't be a pansy.

Ooh, this bag is too heavy. Can you double bag it? Wah, I have a bad back. Don't pack too much stuff in the bag. Could I have a bag for this tiny bottle of medicine? For this single apple? To put my asshole in after the cashier tears me a new one?

Man up and take the heavy bags. If you can't handle it, go die. You're probably too old to live anyway.

5. The cashier has no fucking clue how much stuff costs, and doesn't care.

It's a big store, okay? The prices are marked right on the shelves, if you want to know, go look. Don't ask me.

This is a partial list. I think I've forgotten something. But next time you go to the cashier, analyze your actions. Think, would it be annoying if I had to watch someone do this 1000 time a day? If yes, don't do it. Kthxbai.

Whoa, veggies...you can eat those?

2008-07-18T00:17:00.000-07:00

Hmm. So there don't seem to be very many motorbike mechanic courses around. In fact, the nearest one seems to be in Saskatchewan. That's on hold for a bit while I think about it, I guess.

Anyway, about actually working. It's simply amazing what sunshine, good sleep, and decent food can do for a person's mood. I've tried living healthily for the last few days, and I must say, I'm feeling pretty kick-ass. You know, spinach and such. Onions. Blueberries. Whatever, it doesn't take much.

Also, my sleep rhythm was completely screwed up due to having the night shift all the time, and then getting randomly shifted to day shift one day per week. It's hell, really. I was going to bed at three am and waking at 1 pm. Yeah, I'm getting enough sleep- actually, I'm getting too much. Who knew? Word to the rest of you- sleeping 13 hours a day won't make you less tired.

Today's shift went alright- the bitchy old ladies seem less so when I can bring myself to greet them with a smile. There's a cute guy who's been making unnecessary trips to the store and getting into my line. There were 8 police cars outside when I knocked off. Yeah, 8. An ambulance, a fire truck, and drug dogs as well. Who knows?

I'm all registered up for courses next fall- can't wait. Got to get an education, got to get a life.

Motorbike Mechanic

2008-07-08T01:33:00.000-07:00

Alright, I've decided to become a motorcycle mechanic. I'm still getting my degree in Creative Writing as planned, but I'm going to do this on the side so as to be able to eat. Also, I'm having a hard time actually finding a course in bike repair. I'm going to down to Action Sports and see if the lads in the shop can give me some advice.

I actually ride a motorcycle- or used to, rather. It was a 250 Kawasaki Ninja, about 15 years old but in great shape. I smashed it up about a month ago, though. I sold the wreck for 900, so that's my price range for my next bike. I'm hoping I'll be able to learn something about motorcycle repair so I can fix it myself next time I screw up.

Anyway, another tale of Safeway:
A young man bought a single banana. e paid with exact change- 20 cents, although the banana actually cost 21 cents. He couldn't come up with the final cent. I let him off the hook. As I closed the cash register, the gentleman spotted some sort of organic matter on the conveyor belt. It looked a bit like a pomegranate seed- I'm not really sure what it was. Anyway, he picked it up, looked it over, and popped in his mouth. Yup. Good old Safeway.

Love Handles

2008-06-25T00:18:00.000-07:00

Visualize a portly woman wearing tight jeans, a short knit poncho, and NOTHING ELSE and welcome to my life.

Also, I fell down the stairs. Not just a little slip, but a full story.

On the brighter side, I've decided to become a motorcycle mechanic.

Adventures At Safeway pt. 2

2008-06-19T23:25:00.000-07:00

Well they finally paid me, it's just not a hell of a lot. Like, 150 bucks, when what I need is more like 800. I've been working almost every day for about 3 weeks now, shouldn't there be a bit more than that? I don't know, I'm bad at math. Maybe if I was good at it I'd have a decent job. Emo..

I haven't been doing Kabuki lately either. Fun as it is, sometimes you're lucky to break even after paying the lease. I'm actually in debt to them at this point. Don't know if I'll bother going back and paying up. Bloody life. This sucks unbelievably. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home.

Adventures At Safeway pt. 1

2008-06-18T11:37:00.000-07:00

I've been back working there for 3 weeks now and have not yet seen a paycheck. This is illegal. I need to go kill someone.

Power and Money

2008-06-17T21:46:00.000-07:00

In Ender's Shadow, the protagonist, Bean, muses on the nature of loyalty and friendship. They're not things that come easily to him, so he spends a lot of time thinking about them.

Bean tries to puzzle out the reason why one person can control so many others. He figures it's because most people try to acquire power the wrong way. They see obvious sources of power-people and organizations that are powerful(which will henceforth be referred to as POPs). They try to get some of that good stuff for themselves, from the POPs. The problem is that those who have power also realize how very easy it is to lose it- so they hold on to it tightly and apportion it out in tiny, almost useless amounts. This is why your immediate supervisor has just enough authority to make your life miserable, but not enough to actually do anything useful. So you see, trying to get power from those who already have it is next to useless. Trying to work your way up from entry-level almost never works. You'll notice that there are thousands of entry-level slaves for every CEO who managed to claw her way up the ranks.

So how do you get power?

Bean is a bright boy- he saw the answer almost at once. You get power from those who think they have none. Average Joe. The kids who don't vote because one vote doesn't make a difference. From the starving villagers who will trade their freedom forever for food right now. It's easy to take these peoples power because they're willing to part with it. They think the little they have is worthless. So the few people who understand the nature of power can get a little from each person, and it adds up until they are unstoppable, until they control everyone...

Like I said though, Bean didn't understand about loyalty and friendship. He didn't know that power isn't the point at all, loyalty is. Loyalty isn't a means of getting power, but rather, the opposite. Power is a means of gaining loyalty, but if you already have the loyalty of good friends, you don't need to bother with manipulation and other nonsense...

Okay, now we apply this logic to money. I'll try to be brief.

Don't throw yourself into a career at Safeway. Or McDonalds. Or at any big company. You can work your ass off all your life, but you're just chasing the wind. They don't want to make you rich, they just want to keep you from being poor so they can control you. Instead, get rich off people who don't mind giving you money, because they think it isn't worth anything but dollars. Start your own company, providing stuff people want in exchange for the cash that they don't care about and which you so desperately need. You may not get wildly rich, but then money isn't the point. Money is only a way of keeping score.

Good Things

2008-06-04T15:51:00.000-07:00

1. Got rent paid for one more month.
2. Parents coming this weekend- they'll bring money
3. Weather is warm for motorbiking

Again, trying to keep a positive attitude here. However, I've come to realize that there's no way anyone can possibly succeed by getting a minimum wage job and working their way up. It just doesn't work- I'll explain why next post, using a theory I've developed from reading Orson Scott Card's fantastic "Ender's Shadow".

Quittin'

2008-06-03T15:32:00.000-07:00

If anyone out there has gotten the idea that it might be a good idea to hold 3 or 4 part time jobs at once, let me assure you- it's not. No matter how many bad jobs you have, they will not add up to one good job. All they will do is sap your energy and reduce your sense of self-worth.

So, I've quite the gas station, because that job was only 12 hours a week at 8/hr. I am quitting Subway, though first I'm going to collect my last paycheck and steal some cookies. That job was only 6 hours a week. I eagerly anticipate screaming at my boss "I hate you! You suck! And I'm taking these cookies!" Tomorrow, I think.

I've gone back to Safeway, sadly. This is the job I'll likely be stuck with for a few years, though I'm trying to have a positive attitude about it. The Safeway uniform is better than average, lots of hours are guaranteed, and they give you a raise (25 cents! big money!) every 520 hours worked. Okay. Not bad.

I continue to work Kabuki Kabs at the weekends- ferrying drunks around the downtown core is pretty fun. Life continues...

Vector Marketing

2008-05-28T15:24:00.000-07:00

If you live in Victoria, chances are you've seen ads, posters and business cards advertising: "Work for Students!!! 16.85/hr!!!". The thing is, the ads don't tell you exactly what the work is, and you know there's going to be a catch, cause I mean, come on. Businesses are hiring in this city, but only for the kinds of jobs that pay 10 bucks an hour or less. So if they're offering 17 per hour and not giving information, you have to think, "do I get to keep my clothes on for this job?"

Well, purely out of curiosity, I applied for the job and was accepted. Only then did they tell me what the hell I was suppose to do. Here's the deal:

-The company is called Cutco
-They make cutlery
-The marketing branch of the company is called Vector, and they're the ones who are so desperate to hire anyone
-You're expected to sell the product via something like a Tupperware party, giving presentations to people you know and then getting phone numbers for people they know for your next presentation
-It does indeed pay 16.85/hr, but only when you're actually doing presentations, and you're supposed to find your own customers.

If this sounds like it would appeal to you, by all means, sign up. I didn't go back for the training. They just seemed too desperate to hire me- there's no way this kind of job is going to be fun.

Not A Shit Job, Actually

2008-05-20T14:37:00.000-07:00

Right now I'm doing Kabuki Kabs. Like every job, it has it's bad points, but on the whole it's one if the best ways to spend a summer vacation, aside from actually being on a yacht with the millionaire kids club.

The cabbies hang out in a huge old warehouse way out past the edge of downtown Victoria. Like, you go past Chinatown, then past Streetlink where the heroin addicts are, then you come to Kabuki. When not working, lounge about on couches, drink beer from the beer vending machine, play darts, Risk, and otherwise waste time. There's lots of weed floating around, and often free beer too. If you think this sound a bit more fun the average office break room, you're quite right.

As for the actual work bit, we do have to do that sometimes, too. On sunny days, warm weekend evenings, and anytime there is a cruise ship in port, we go out on these big tricycle-like contraptions and try to convince tourists to let us take them to dinner, back to the ship, on a tour of downtown, wherever. We charge a dollar a minute (no complicated math) plus tips. Generally, if we charge anywhere between 14 and 19 bucks, they just hand over a 20. That's all anyone ever has, 20s, so we get some multiple of that.

The best part is, everyone wants to take a picture of themselves with the cheerful young cab driver. I know for sure I'm going to walk into someone's house someday, somewhere in the world, and they'll pull out a photo album that contains my very own face staring back at me.

Anyway, between the drinking and carousing, it's possible to make $1000 a week. If, like me, you only like to work in the sunshine, it's still 40 bucks an hour but only maybe 8 hours. Pretty sweet joint altogether.

The Hangover Shift

2008-05-13T16:34:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I should know better than to party on a Monday night when I have to work on Tuesday morning. Tuesdays are bad enough without a hangover. At least I was smart enough not to try driving home last night, so I woke up on the couch of the Kabuki Kabs headquarters downtown. That gave me two hours to hustle home and make myself decent for work at 10. Along the way, I narrowly avoided losing my gloves and keys, and did lose my cell phone and my temper. No one should have to climb over a rusty iron gate at 8 in the morning.

Okay, so finally at work. No headache, just dizziness and general despondency. This translated to a sort of slow clumsiness that my new co-workers probably think is my normal state of being. A woman came in, your basic old-but-but-not-elderly type. She bought cigarettes and $50 in lottery tickets. Lord, this can't go on. If I'm still a minimum wage slave at that age, just strike me down with lightning.

And now, off to Big Bad John's to hopefully locate my phone.

History

2008-05-12T13:43:00.000-07:00

My dad worked in a liquor store for 30 years. I guess he liked it. Me, I'd rather die right now than spend the next 3 decades in retail hell. But as long as I'm in school, I can only work part-time, and I have no skills, so I'm stuck with the same kind of thing. This blog is a chronicle of all the crappy jobs I'm bound to go through in the next four years, while I finish my degree (or fail, or get distracted by something more fun).

I'll start with past jobs. At the age of 18, I've been the following:

Page at a library,
minimum wage,
8h/week,
stocking shelves,
no human interaction,
in my hometown

Fuel dock supervisor,
11.50, nice,
full time,
handing gas hoses to boat people and chilling in the sun

Clothing store cashier,
11.50,
boring as hell but a good coworker who was into air guitar,
in awesome Tofino.

Fuel dock again,
11.00, full time,
really cool people to work with,
back in the hometown.

Subway slave,
9.00,
nowhere near enough hours,
bitchy customers and mental patients from the hospital down the street,
coworkers who don't speak English,
in Victoria.

Safeway slave
8.75 minus union dues,
extra bitchy customers,
way too many hours,
brutal work in every way.

Pedicab driver
Most fun job by far,
free beer and weed,
but no money unless you're a born salesman, which I'm not.

And finally,
back in another gas station, a Shell this time.
8 bucks an hour.

yeah, I went from 11.50/hour, to 11, to 9, to 8.75, to 8. I'm obviously doing something wrong. In the future we will explore just how retarded I am and attempt to find explanations, maybe even solutions. Bear with me folks. Tomorrow is my second day at the gas station.