I only had one job I ever liked. It was totally unlike me. It started often before 7am. It was at a cafe on main street in our little provincial cape-ish town.
For just about 3 months, right after my highschool graduation, the most unlikely of everything came together and now that I look back at it, even though I was doing crappy work for low pay I loved it and that made it mine.
I got the job through the quietest kid I'd ever known who I'd gone to school with for 12 years and managed to maybe speak 3 whole sentences to. But since we were both the last dregs of the alphabet (Y and Z) we got stuck together in the same homeroom. Through a mutual aquaintance I got offered a job that the girl in front of me turned down.
I went to the interview, looked wrong, said everything wrong, and got hired anyway because i guess they thought my purple hair was a statement in this burg (I can't believe it *actually* worked on someone!), and started as a baker/salad maker/general sandwich maker/lackey. I washed dishes, I made croutons. I baked the *most* fabulous chocolate chip cookies ever. People honestly came in just to eat them. I liked that.
Through there I met a girl who I would have never spoken to under any other circumstances, if only out of fear of saying the wrong thing and evoking her wrath. She had 3 inch fingernails and lived in New Bedford, which unless you live here can't truly be explained. Its the most depressing dirty little ex-whaling city that ever was. The kind of place where the buildings all have 3 floors, 1 apartment per floor, and the whole place smells of sadness, poverty, and crime. Oh, and the odor of 1000 acidic meals and misc. human fucntions.
Anyway, she was actually very sweet, and very kind, and living under he own giant oppositions. Her mother was an alcholoic who'd abandoned her at 14 and she had to make her way in that rough ugly city and she'd done it and had even managed through the wonder of credit and shady boyfriends to get a decent job, a decent house, and a decent car. Now at 19 she seemed ages older than my country-fried/just graduated 18 year old ass.
She moved on to bigger and better things, which was smart because after she left the cafe was only open maybe another 3 weeks? Sometimes, I miss her alot, especially when I hear the song "Goodbye Earl" a song I'd have never picked out to listen to either.
I guess that says alot about things I don't usually do.
