Why Don't You Get A Job?

My first job (that wasn't babysitting) should have never happened. I am certain that had it not, I would swear less, never have smoked, and would be far less versed in verbally destroying lesser individuals.

The summer of my 15th year, I was living in a town CCR allegedly got stuck in, California. You know what there is to do in the aforementioned town? Not a damn thing. Sure, people hung out in the Walmart parking lot til all hours, saw one of the two movies playing at the only theater in town, went partys out in the vineyards, and if you were me and my not-yet-ready-for-hard-shit friends, hung out at Sno-White Drive In across from Town Name Lake. Oh, and by lake I mean man-made cesspool of filth and river waste that was closed most of every summer due to high Ecoli levels.

Sno-White used to be part of a chain in California, but I choose to believe that when the health conscious hippies took over the state, so went the way of awesome burger stands. These chains got sold off to locals and even with it's burnt out sign that read "Home of the Super Burger", cracked paint, even more cracked wooden picnic tables, and all around dilapidation, people still flocked to Sno-White. Or Super Burger as people sometimes called it because they were idiots. There was (and is) a Foster Freeze in town, complete with the ice cream cone named Mr. Freeze neon sign, but their ice cream wasn't as good and their bathroom was too clean. Everybody knows the food is always better when they have a nasty bathroom.

So the summer of my 15th year, my girlfriend KiKi and I (not to be confused with a one Ms. Quiverbone) were sucking down some bomb-ass milkshakes and spotted the ice-cream splattered help wanted sign in the corner of the window. We both applied on the spot. Who wouldn't want to work across from the lake and flirt with all the hot guys that were sure to flock there? About a week later I received a call from Jade, the manager. I was excited, my first real interview, but she manically explained to me that I was the youngest who had applied and no one else had called her back and could I start the next morning and somewhere in all of her crazy, I said yes. I called KiKi right away and told her. She wasn't happy. She was almost 8 months older than me and was higher on the hire list, but apparently didn't get a message. She implied that I should have turned down the job, but I didn't care. I was going to be making money all summer and shopping and flirting and she should be understanding of that.

I took the GrapeLine (our town's bus equivalent) from my place to Sno-White and showed up a good 15 min early. Even before the AF I was prompt. I knocked on the back door and the oldest living hunchback I have ever seen opened the door. "Are you Tiffany?" she asked in an obvious Arkansas drawl. I nodded and said yes as she ushered me inside. I should have ran to catch the bus as soon as I saw the inside. Ick. The outside was dilapidated but the inside? The inside was comparable to what I would imagine I would see in a third-world country's diner would look like. Straight ahead from the door was the front window and the view of the pristine Lake Ecoli. But to my right was a walk-in freezer and sink area, to my left was a set of deep fryers and a grill, and right next to the back door was a mini-freezer that was dripping some sort of fluid. I'm still not confident it was really only water.

Joy led me to the front left of the establishment with a waddle and a wave and sitting at a tiny desk surrounded by shelves of cups and napkins sat Jade. She had buck teeth that gap in the front, a femme-mullet, broad shoulders, a broader waste, and she wore a man's XXL polo with coolots and sneakers. I saw a hint of mustache over her sweaty lip (in all fairness, it was like a sauna in there), and she reached out her hand for me to shake and said "Heya kiddo. Welcome to Sno-White. Let's go out back and chat." We stood outside for what seemed like hours as she smoked Marlboro Red after Marlboro red and talked mostly about herself, her kids, her grand kids, and her husband, all of whom (mind you, I had not seen them yet) seemed like they would go well on a Jerry Springer stage. I nodded and tried to ask questions about the job when I could, but eventually gave up. 1130 hits and Joy yells out for us that there were cars pulling in. Jade hands me an apron and a pencil, literally pushes me towards the cash register and says "You've done this before, right?" and goes back into the freezer to grab some stuff.

I made due. It wasn't rocket science, but you'd have thought I was Stephen Hawking. Joy cooked the orders and Jade made the shakes and Ice cream when those orders came up. I filled drinks, wiped tables when it was slow and with every good deed, praise could be heard from both women. "Girl, you're so smart. I ain't never seen somebody work that hard" Joy said to me at the end of my shift. I smiled and said thank you, despite my thoughts that they must have the worst employees ever if doing your job made you "so smart." Within 3 days I was making shakes and perfect swirls on ice cream cones, working the deep fryer, slicing buns for our Super Burger (Big Mac rip-off), restocking and organizing, and each day, Jade and Joy sang my praises. I worked from 9 to 1 for the first week and had only met the two of them. The night crew didn't come in until 4pm and the owner, Dan, hid in his trailer/office that sat behind the building.

I eventually would meet Dan, a reservist Warrant Officer (Helicopter pilot), who had a white hair comb-over, 1980's clothing, and a pedophile smirk. He never looked at my face, always my chest (yes, they were big then too) and I always wanted to bathe immediately after being remotely near him. Years later, his only son would be killed execution-style in a meth deal gone bad on the outskirts of our town. Very sad and still unsolved. He sold the business to some woman who painted it pink.

As the summer progressed, I started meeting the rest of the employees. Robin ran the night shift. She was barely 5 feet and skinny like a crack whore. Sores in the corners of her mouth made me think this could have been true. She had a smokers growl and a Lorrie Morgan hairstyle. I made the mistake once of telling her she looked like Lorrie and she said "You know what, I get that all time 'cept I sing better." I laughed but she wasn't joking. She spent the rest of the night singing "Watch Me", "Something in Red", "Except for Monday" and "Fancy" which I wanted to tell her was a Reba song but I let it go. She quit not long after that and the last I had heard circa 2004, she had hanged herself in her garage.

Shawn took over for Robin after she quit. Big, burly, tatted up, fucked up grill and a woman. She never wore a bra and her tits hung down to the middle of her belly button. She fought with everyone, had a boyfriend who was just as nasty and abusive (and she hit him too), and had a southern accent for no apparent reason. Seriously, how do you have a southern accent when your are born and raised in CA? I hated working with her. She gave me the willies. I was always scared she might hit me or eat me or touch my no-no places. Her and Chris, the other night shift "manager", hated each other. Chris was a single mother of two and a super Chola. Butt crack lip liner, sharpied eyebrows, actually used to be in a gang, but she liked me. Said I was the baddest white chick she knew, because only a white chick who was bad would talk back like I did. She would tell me, while pointing at me with a knife that never left her hand, "Girl, you're a funny white chick. I wouldn't have kicked your ass back in the day." Thank you? She also gave me pointers on how to fight white bitches. Always punch, don't slap. Don't pull hair unless you're going to rip that shit out. Oh, and my favorite, "don't stop crackin' theys skulls til the cops pull you off." I actually took notes once, you know, in case I ever had to testify. Chris ended up with another kid and a parole violation and Shawn went head first into an overpass after a night of heavy drinking. She died.

Tony was a teenage boy who worked there as well. He went to the other high-school in town and was the definition of in the closet. He was over-weight, super feminine, and the biggest drama queen I have ever met. He would start a fight over who had to do dishes, who had to clean the ice cream machine, who touched his apron...it was never ending. I told him once that he didn't have to be a stereotype. He asked me what I meant and I said "No one cares if you're gay. Just don't be a catty little bitch." He raised his hand like he was going to slap me, but I didn't bat an eye. I just said "Tony, that is soooo Dynasty of you. And Chris taught me how to fight." He walked away crying, from that and several more verbal beat downs I gave him. It wasn't because he was gay, I have to make that clear. It was because he was a bitch. I love me some gays, I just hated me some Tony's. He tried to set me up on a date with his "friend" once. But he came along too. We saw a movie and Tony sat in between us. I'm pretty sure I was the beard. I got a free movie out of it, plus popcorn and a soda, so I'm not complaining. He found me years later on Myspace (you read that right) and he looked great, lost a ton of weight, started taking care of his skin, came out of the closet...called it. He was going to school in Southern California (Not SoCal because I am not a douche) and modeling. He thanked me for being the only person who understood him, to which I wanted to ask what the fuck he was talking about, but just let go and said "Your welcome." He looked happy. Good for him. Probably still a bitch though.

Tasha was our resident Teen Mom, before it was cool to be knocked up and still in high school. She had the roundest, fattest head I have ever laid eyes on and the intelligence of the grease that coated the walls. She had this rolly polly of a boyfriend who knocked her up my second summer at Sno-White. She was such a smug bitch. I know most pregnant women are smug bitches, the way they rub there belly when talking to you as if to say "You want what I have", but Tasha was super smug. I'm sure her mother's life's ambition was to have an unwed teen mom for a daughter and her mother's before her. That's not sarcasm. She had her baby shower at Sno-White and bragged about how her daughter beat her because she was pregnant at 15 and she had Tasha at 17. While writing this, I think I found her on FB through a mutual friend. I was horrified and deleted the mutual friend as well. Anyone who knows that can't know me.

There were random coke heads, perverts, lesbians, and other low-lifes that Sno-White employed over my tenure there, but they all came and went so fast, I can barely remember them. I still pride myself on all that learned there, you know, don't be filthy, work hard, how to make the most amazing mint-chocolate chip banana shake ever, and I loved having a job. When all my friends had to bum money off of there parents, I didn't. Very liberating. And while I picked up some awful habits there such as smoking (also where my mom caught me but that is it's own blog), swearing, and talking down to everyone I saw, I can look back and see how far removed I am from that. I don't smoke anymore, I don't curse...as much, and I treat others with respect. Okay, the smoking part is true at least.